ꜱᴄᴀʀ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴇʏꜱ

Chapter 39: Scarvern

 Scarvern landed on his feet in front of a black cottage with shadowed windows. He stalked towards the front door and knocked slightly. Somehow the void from the castle had brought him here. To a whole new kingdom.

A woman in her late forties opened the door. Black hair, much like Reylyn's own hair, spilled across her face in a low bun. The woman's gaze hardened at Scarvern's form in front of her door. Her left eyebrow arched slightly, and her nails were bit into the nailbed. "I told the messengers I didn't want anyone here," she paused. "Unless you have information about my children?"

He reached for his notebook in his pocket just in case she was going to attack. "Your children?"

The older woman nodded. "Yes. Two girls and a boy. The girls are about sixteen and fifteen, the boy's nineteen,"

"Erm, no ma'am." He picked at his pants pockets. "Do you have any recent pictures of them, I may be able to help you find them."

The woman nodded and shut the door for a few moments before coming out with three crumpled papers each with the names, Ethan, Reylyn and Nadine. Scarvern's stomach lurched at the sight of the young Reylyn with a gleeful smile on her face, but she hid it for what he assumed to be her mother.

Reylyn's mother bit her fingernails even more. A habit Reylyn did a lot. "Well?"

He nodded slightly. "Yes. But, I don't know if she's safe. She was with the prince," he blurted out, as if he had no self control. He gritted his teeth out of pure embarrassment.

Her eyes raked over Scarvern. Reylyn's eyes, the one's full of fury almost all the time. He snapped out of it. "You must be a guard then. My name's Noelle Strass," Noelle narrowed her eyes. "And who just so happens to be Reylyn's mother." Footsteps sounded from behind her, a man in his early fifties stood behind her.

"Any news, no?" he asked his wife. She nodded.

"I got some news from this boy," she gestured over to Scarvern, who just so happened to be cracking his knuckles obnoxiously loud.

"He doesn't look like a knight," her husband grunted, he reached for his pocket and pulled out a gladius. Much like Reylyn's, but silver.

Scarvern's brain went into overdrive, and he began running away. If he knew anything about Reylyn, she wouldn't hesitate to attack him, and he didn't wanna see that from her parents. He looked up at the sky for the first time since he appeared here through the void. There were tall trees scattered across the cobblestone path leading away from the Strass cottage. The rest of the path was covered by the fog. Scarvern couldn't comprehend how people would live here. Except Reylyn. He would only leave Valdein if it were for her.

He gripped his knuckles across his sword as wings shuffled from above. He looked to the wings above him. To Scarvern's surprise, there were two dragons. One was a prussian blue dragon, the other was a scarlet dragon. They were chasing after each other playfully. Another joined. This time pine. One more came. White. Each of the four dragons chased after each other's tails for a few minutes before a voice shouted at them to stop flying.

Scarvern couldn't help the smile forming across his face, the three dragon's stayed flying with each other. The blue one suddenly dipped closer to the cobblestone floor.. It landed square in front of him, and nudged his hand holding his sword. The other two dragons were still playing around above.

Scarvern dropped his sword hesitantly. He reached his palm for the dragon's. The dragon closed his eyes and sniffed. A gold key rested over the dragon's neck. The center was shaped by four small circles that formed a square. The dragon sweeped its tail over its legs.

"You need a name, don't you, buddy?" he asked. His lips turned up into a huge grin. The blue dragon snorted in response. Scarvern thought of some names before finally settling on one. "Uisdean,"

Uisdean snorted in agreement at his name. Scarvern reached for the key, Uisdean bowed his back down to him, his wings spread out. He grabbed onto the spikes of Uisdean and hoisted himself up.