Something In The Way-SYLUS X MC X ZAYNE

ACT II: PART I

"A choice before the Gods
Love or eternity
To surrender their hearts
Broken so thoroughly
Or to live for eternity
In the vast deep
With loneliness the only company
They behold how mortal love entwines

Love is the privilege of mortals
A gift the gods covet in vain
For they are bound by wisdom and reason
While mortals own but madness and passion

But that's the price to pay"

Light years in the future ...

The queen rushed through the grand halls of the palace, her silken skirts billowing as her footsteps echoed off the floors. The air was heavy, oppressive, and the guards and servants who caught sight of her bowed their heads in silence. She did not stop, did not pause—she couldn't. Not when her rare heart was pounding with such terrible urgency, not when she could already feel the icy dread crawling up her spine.
The doors to the king's chambers loomed ahead, flanked by two guards who moved to open them without hesitation. The moment the doors parted, her breath caught.
He was there, lying on the great bed that once symbolized strength and warmth. Now, black ice crept across his body, climbing from his fingertips to his chest in jagged, crystalline veins. The room felt colder than the farthest winter, the frost even licking at the edges of the golden curtains. He looked at her as she entered, his once-bright eyes dimmed but still filled with love and sorrow.
She crossed the room in an instant, falling to her knees beside him. Her hands trembled as she touched his, the frost biting at her fingertips but she didn't care. Tears spilled freely from her eyes, and she pressed her forehead to his.
"You're burning," she whispered, though the ice covering his body felt like death itself.
"I'm fine," he lied, his voice strained and rasping. His fingers weakly curled around hers, their touch as light as snowflakes. "You shouldn't worry."
"Don't do that," she said, her voice breaking as her tears dripped onto the frost-covered blanket. "Don't tell me not to worry. Don't—" She stopped, unable to finish.
He reached for her face with his free hand, his touch cold yet familiar. "I didn't want this. I didn't want you to see me like this."
She let out a quiet sob, her hand gripping his tighter. "Don't talk like that. We'll find a way. We'll find a way to stop this."
The doors behind them opened, and she turned sharply to see her adopted brother entering the room, his expression heavy with unease. His boots made no sound on the cold floor as he approached, his sharp features carved with quiet resolve.
"Kaleb," she said, her voice filled with both hope and desperation. "Do you have anything? Anything at all?"
Kaleb hesitated, his usual confidence dampened. He glanced at the king, then back at her. "There is... something," he began, his voice low.
The king looked at him sharply. "Speak plainly, Kaleb."
Kaleb's eyes flickered with hesitation, and he shifted his weight, uncomfortable. "It's... a whisper," he said finally. "Rumors. Old stories, nothing more than legends."
"Kaleb." Her voice was firm, her expression sharper than steel. "What are you not telling us?"
He exhaled, his gaze darting between the two of them before settling on her. "Dragonsblood."
The word hung in the air like a curse, and for a moment, it felt as though the temperature in the room dropped even further.
She gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "That's impossible," she said, her voice trembling. "Those monsters have been extinct for thousands of years."
"They're evil," the king added, his tone grim. "Their destruction nearly wiped out entire kingdoms. There can't be any left."
Kaleb hesitated again, his sharp gaze faltering. She narrowed her eyes, her suspicion mounting. "What aren't you saying?" she demanded. "If you know something, I swear—"
"There's word," Kaleb admitted, his voice almost a whisper. "That one may still exist."
She stared at him, her heart pounding. "Where?"
"I don't know," Kaleb said quickly, shaking his head. "The whispers are vague. But if it's true..." He glanced at the king, guilt shadowing his expression. "If the legends are to be believed, dragonsblood can cure him."
The king shifted, his breath rasping. "And to get it?"
Kaleb's jaw tightened. "You would have to kill it."
The room fell silent, the weight of his words crushing.
The queen turned her gaze to the king, her hand tightening around his. His eyes met hers, full of pain and quiet resolve. He shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "No."
"You know I have to," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of determination and fear.
"No," he repeated, his voice stronger now, though his body remained frail. "You're not going after that beast. Not for me."
"If I send men, they won't stand a chance," she argued, her voice rising. "You know that. But I—" She hesitated, the words sticking in her throat. "With my power, I could do it. I could kill the beast and save you."
The king's hand gripped hers tighter, his gaze pleading. "I won't lose you to this. I won't let you risk your life for—"
"You won't lose me," she said firmly, though her heart ached at the look in his eyes. "You're my life. If there's a chance I can save you, I have to take it."
Kaleb stepped forward, his voice low but steady. "It's not a guarantee," he warned. "Even if you succeed, there's no proof the blood will work."
She turned to him, her eyes sharp and unyielding. "I don't care. If there's even the smallest chance, I'll take it."
Kaleb hesitated, searching her face for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he exhaled slowly and gave a small nod. "I'll find it," he said.
"Track it down," she ordered, her voice resolute. "And tell me where it is."
The king groaned quietly, his hand slipping from hers as his strength waned. She turned back to him, brushing her fingers against his cold face. "You're going to be okay," she whispered, though her voice cracked with the weight of her fear.
He didn't respond, his eyes slipping shut.
Kaleb lingered for a moment longer before bowing his head and stepping out of the room. As the doors closed behind him, she leaned over her king, her forehead pressing against his as tears fell silently.
"You have to hold on," she whispered. "Just a little longer."
But the frost on his body told her time was slipping through her fingers faster than she could hold it.