The Blood's Flame (The Dragons of Flareia Book 1)

Chapter 27 - Flae

The Palace of Sand

26th Year of the Ocean

3rd Moon

They ran as fast as they could, Flae holding Olivier up awkwardly as the princess's legs shook beneath her. They made it to the main hall before the shaking spread, grasping Olivier's body all over until she fell from Flae's grip and slid to the floor, her back pressed into the sandstone wall. Silent sobs wracked the princess's body as she hugged her knees to her chest as if it would stop her heart from breaking. But Flae soon realised her sobs weren't silent at all. The princess was murmuring under her breath, over and over like a mantra; this isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real. 

While Flae had never experienced the pain of losing her parents - or if she had, she couldn't remember it - the pain it left behind was one she knew all too well. She sunk to the ground beside her friend, placing her hand on Olivier's shoulder. She wished she could tell her everything would be alright, but she knew it would be a lie. She wanted to tell her it would get better - because it would, but that wasn't what Olivier would want to hear after watching her father get murdered, after stumbling across her mother's dead body.

Flae dropped her hand from Olivier's shoulder and reached for her braids hanging down her back. She knew what she was looking for; in the left braid, the lowest shell. She pulled the ribbon from the end and unfurled the braid Olivier had done for her every morning since that first afternoon, sliding the shell from the strand it had lived in, giving them matching unfurling braids. She untangled one of Olivier's arms from her knees before closing the shell in the princess's palm.

"I never knew my parents," she muttered, holding Olivier's hand tightly, "but that doesn't mean I never had a mother. Mother Ember always was and still is there for me. I can't lose something I never had, so I don't need a shell to commemorate it."

Flae paused, turning as footsteps neared the hall. Soon, Kylan appeared followed by the Sea Dragon and his Familiar, Seraphi, Lady Ameira and a small group of armed Avalonian guards. A quick count came to seven. Flae hoped there were more than that left of the army, but didn't have the courage to ask. Kylan's eyes went wide as he saw Olivier covered in blood and curled up beside Flae, and he went to move towards them, but Flae gave a slight shake of her head. The guards noted the movement and all went tense. Lymphario sunk rather rapidly in the air until he was curled around Slovenna's neck. The colour of his scales was almost identical to the seal's skin, as if he was projecting his dark emotions into the sea that gave him his colour. Flae turned back to Olivier.

"But you," she went on, "you need to show the Avalonian people what Tommél has done to his own family. What he's capable of doing to his own country. And you need to show them that you're not giving up, that you'll rise above their expectations and become something incredible. Because you will. I'll help you. Kylan will help you. We'll be your family now, but that doesn't mean you can't mourn for the family you've lost. Mourn them in a way your people will understand and respect, and you won't lose them. You need that shell more than I do."

Olivier slowly raised her head and unfurled her fingers to find the perdia shell in her palm. Her red rimmed eyes met Flae's. "Thank you," she whispered. Then her gaze shifted, and Flae saw realisation dawn across her friend's face as Olivier realised they were no longer alone in the hall. When she went to stand, Flae helped her up - her legs still shook dangerously beneath her.

Kylan was the first to speak. "What happened?"

Olivier dragged a hand across her tearful eyes then stood straight, pushing her shoulders back and becoming the near-perfect image of a princess. "I... I..." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "My mother and father are dead." She mumbled, only loud enough for Flae to hear, as if she were testing the words on her tongue.