The Dare of Truth [slash]

Chapter 18

Fyn was indeed surprised. He had expected Sylair to have influenced some poor child to claim the heritage, but that... "When did you find out?"

"Recently. When I left the mental ward a year ago, I visited my father who's been living in Zarn for a while. He finally told me the truth, and I have no reason to doubt him. The only problem is the fact that I don't have a Holden firstborn's green eyes, but after a bit of research I found out that Aravin had a child he didn't know about, back in college. The mother never informed him, and the boy died of a heart defect when he was little." Sylair's eyes flashed. "You see, everything's been taken care of. Dear Othric will retire, and the Holden Empire will be mine."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Fyn interjected. "I'm still here. I don't have any interest in the heritage, as you might know. But what will you do if my children want to claim their right some day? I know you wouldn't kill any family members, Sylair, or you would have done away with Aravin, Othric, and me long ago."

"You're right, I do have a soft spot for my family," the other lifebearer allowed. "But I took care of that special problem a long time ago."

"What do you mean?" Fyn asked, feeling a cold shiver running down his spine.

Sylair inspected his perfect nails. "You know I kidnapped you when you were a child, right? Don't worry, I didn't hurt you. I gave you lots of toys and sweets. And you didn't even wake up when I gave you that injection of Lyzerol-C. Since scandals are your job, I'm sure you know all about it."

The journalist almost didn't believe his ears. Of course he knew of the scandal involving the experimental contraceptive Lyzerol-C. It had been on the market about forty years ago, promising any easy solution for lifebearer contraception, even suppressing the uncomfortable side-effects of seasonals. All it took was an injection once a month. But the long-term effects were serious: many lifebearers who had used Lyzerol for a time hadn't been able to conceive for years to come or birthed children with severe health problems, and some of them, mostly those under forty years old, had been sterile for good. The stuff was finally taken off the market after big protests, since lashran weren't the fertile sort under the best of terms. The human developers of Lyzerol-C had even been accused of trying to exterminate the lashran race.

"You...gave me an injection of that stuff...when I was FOUR YEARS OLD?!" Fyn finally had found his voice again. "And you call that 'not hurting me'? You murdered every single future child I might have had!"

He lunged at Sylair, but a sharp, hot pain suddenly shot up his right leg. With a cry, Fyn sank to the ground. One of Viper's tiny knives stuck out from his lower leg, right above the old injury. He tried to get up again, but it hurt so terribly that he gave up.

"Tsk tsk, Fyn. We are civilized people here, who would resort to something primitive like scratching my eyes out?" Sylair looked down at him in mock reproach. "You should be grateful that I put you out of the game like this. And having kids isn't really something to look forward to. I will have some more in the future, of course, to ensure the survival of the Holden family, but it's really no fun at all."

The journalist looked up at him, clenching his teeth. "You have kids? Who was so desperate to touch a snake like you?" he hissed.