Rewriting His Past

Start of the End

A soft, feminine voice said, "You struggle too much for a child of magic," and a cloud of white fur engulfed him. Word, in his original form, lay in the nest of fur.

"Word," Dusk murmured, reaching out to touch his familiar and feeling his chest rise and fall with great relief. He was doing just fine.

"Under your care, my child has matured; rest assured, I see to the why." Word's mother spoke to him, or so Dusk assumed, in a harsh tone.

"My apologies." Dusk bent his head and apologized, realizing she could not see him and that he was too unsteady to be lifted. Though not quite finished, the situation was resolved. Despite, or perhaps precisely because of, the difficult decisions he had to make, Dusk's resolve did not waver this time. This time, he would keep his resolve.

"There is only one woman who is to blame; she betrayed her commitment to me." Dusk had just noticed her voice, and it was not loud; rather, it seemed to pass through the space between them and directly into his ears. Magic was incredible. If only he had the room or the resources to receive appropriate instruction.

"I wonder if I could learn from her." Dusk allowed the ideas to drift by without filtering them. She might be able to teach Dusk what others wouldn't, or those who truly could not teach, if Word's mother possessed the strength and control to appear silent and speak in a whisper.

"My decision to entrust this school with you and my child has not worked out as planned. Once this is done, we'll talk about it properly." A heavy sigh that sounded like spirited wind down a narrow alley. "First, we'll deal with her; don't worry about your immature mates; they'll be meeting us there. I assure you."

Immature? Dusk was left a little stunned by the statement, but by the perspective of a legendary beast that was worshiped by the country he was in. Then he guesses everyone was a little immature. It wouldn't be his first thought if Micah and Pyrite were concerned. Feeling a little more settled, and his heart down to a steady beat instead of the race of wild horses. He sat up right; his body, waist down, was covered with the thick, soft fur of Word's mother.

"Amazing," Dusk said. Looking around, he saw the rush of crowds on the city streets. The pointed hands, the screaming kids, and the feverish prayers that made them kneel all reached Dusk, where they hadn't before.

"Had they been wise, they ought to have treated you with the same dignity." The first thing he saw when he turned to face forward was the head of Word's mother. She was covered in soft fur, of course, but her elegance was more regal, akin to an ancient dragon from picture books. "This I will take head-on." It was then that he realized they were approaching the castle.

"Are you speaking of the queen?" Dusk asked, his head feeling heavy with the very many problems that could arise from that.

"Since she was clumsily wandering around and tugging at my fur, that child has grown a bit. Only a bit." A solid gold eye shot him a sideways glance. "She enjoys testing people and acts in a way that fulfills her desires."

"That sounds like a characteristic of most royalty." Dusk said he was too tired to fight a battle he couldn't win, and he trusted Word's mother. He was skeptical that she would permit her to hurt him because it sounded more like she was angry with the queen than anything else. It was difficult to trust. After taking a long breath, Dusk nodded. "Perhaps this is not the best use for it."

"Perhaps?" A soft chuckle tickled, though her skin rolled while she laughed. "There is no, perhaps. "Rest assured, I will make sure you two stay safe." Dusk stroked Word's head, and the two snuggled in closer.

"Will Word wake up soon?" Dusk asked. Word wiggled himself across his legs, though he was thoroughly asleep.

"The child overtaxed himself; in due time, he will revert to his owl form." She told him that she spoke softly and with the genuine love that a mother has for her child. "My kin take other forms as children to leak off the energy our bodies can still not handle." It takes a lot of energy to change forms; that is true enough. Dusk knew that much, even in the absence of a magic teacher. "This is the bond of a familiar; the owl form he takes is from your memories."

"Is the queen your familiar bond?" Dusk asked, thinking back to the book the Duchess had destroyed. The main character was indeed a green owl. Dusk smiled and rubbed Word's fluffy body. Not that there was anything wrong with his true form.

"No!" Dusk winced at the sharp burst of energy that accompanied her snap. "The first king, a mage blood like you, and I had a familiar bond." Like me? Dusk did not think a king would harbor so many fears. "It would surprise you." With the same ease as if he had spoken, she answered his thoughts. Are you able to hear me? "Everyone, at all times." How exhausting. Dusk felt sorry for her. "Call me Dia; that's what he named me."

"Dia, it is my honor." At best, Dusk could consider his position to be one of offering her a bow.

"So much alike, if only she had a tiny speck of his honor." Dia said as she turned to face the castle. "I should bring up my promise to him with her. I will take care of that right now." A promise? Dusk was curious but didn't need prying, knowing the answers would come soon. While intrigued, Dusk did not feel the need to ask questions because he knew the answers would be revealed soon enough. "You have the ability to finish this task by yourself. Feel the magic I am about to employ. Like a summer breeze that caresses the skin, only inside."

"You make it sound easy," Dusk said with a chuckle at his own expense. He struggled to learn how to use magic until he was given a short chain that felt like it was choking him.

"You should have it; I will assist you." Dusk felt his skin tickle and tingle as before as Dia spoke, and her body rolled. Rather, it was slightly different; his blood seemed to be singing. It was difficult to put into words. Warm flame that made him feel alive, as though a light had been torched dry. When he had done it before, it had been very different. It felt more natural.

"This is how true magic feels." Dusk said, within that sentence, within one breath, really. His environment had shifted. He was back at the palace, in the same room he had been in. Dusk stopped, and he remembered yesterday. Now, things were happening so quickly that weeks rather than days or hours seemed to be passing.

"Dusk, I did not think I would see you again, let alone with Dia." The Queen of the Country, Micah's mother, came and stood before him. She was not astonished, not even stopping to glance through the papers on her desk as she left. She needed to be aware of what Micah and Pyrite had gone through. There was no denying that she had heard about what had occurred at school.

"Enough." Sliding Dusk and a sleeping Word to the floor, Dia spoke. Papers dropped from the sky like falling birds, and she swung her tail, smashing the desk against the wall. It was almost shocking. "Your son is affected by your actions; that is one thing." Dusk was left speechless, and he must have looked impressive if his facial expression was half as serious as the Queen's. "Not mine, and not the son of magic."

"Now, Dia." She recovered well and fast. Dusk could admire that. "Children need to be tested to grow."

"Test your children to death if you want." Dia put her muzzle right to her face; her face remained stony. Despite Dia's teeth showing beneath her lifted lip, she says, "Don't teach mine."

"Dusk is no one's child; it was a choice he made." A truth she brought to Dusk's attention made his heart twitch. He was not so hot-headed to bring up that kind of thing at a moment like this, even though he did not think it was all his own choice.

"Mage blood is a child of magic, a child of this world's mother and my mother. I will not stand for this; this is the last stand I will have for you," Dia snarled.

"No one was hurt." Though it did not appear to have moved an inch, she brushed her hair behind her ears. "I am aware that you never agreed with me being Queen."

"My protection over your family will end." Dia said she was sorting that perfect hair out of place. Is she alright? Not even from blood loss had Dusk ever seen someone go so pale.

She said it in a whisper, her anger making her words even more intense. "You cannot betray him." She glared down at Dusk, her eyes narrowing into steaming black slits. "You are now a landowner and a titleholder, and neither can you." Though he refrained from speaking, Dusk could not help but shake his head in perplexed wonder at what this had to do with anything.

"Let us not play here." She spoke with a cool anger that reminded him of something.

"Are you jealous?" With an arrow that struck the mark more precisely than he ever intended, Dusk's mouth flew open.

"Remember that I am here?" Dia became enraged and struck her with her head, causing her to fall among her documents and desk. "My magic is the only one that works here." Dusk felt a cold chill in the air, but Dia's tail wrapped around him, and Word blocked the worst of it. "Not even yours, Prince First."

"I can not say that I do not get it." Dusk turned to face a voice that was both familiar and remarkably dissimilar. The striking resemblance between them and Micah was evident. Dusk wasn't sure how they got in or what this meant for him or even the queen. Micah and Pyrite—where are they? Right now, Dusk could really use the boost to his confidence that their presence provided. It would not hurt to have the assurance that they were safe.