Connor Pallitan isn't normal, he's known that since the day he was born. Left alone in the woods, cloaked in protective fire, its a wonder the boy survived for a year. But eighteen? A miracle.
But then, all hell breaks loose, and it's up to Conner t...
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CHAPTER XXV
Celeste walked into the boy's' cell, angrily opening the door, the creaking sound it made awakening Gracyn, but Emile was too out of it to come to his senses. "You fool!" She snapped, grabbing Emile by the wrist, burning his skin so hot he awoke with a cry, "you're giving too much to him!" She scolded, and Gracyn could only watch.
"I have...No control...Over how much you receive..." He reminded her, but Celeste didn't seem satisfied with that answer, "that...is up to your father."
"You lie!" She shouted furiously, throwing his arm to the floor. Emile took his wrist, watching as his skin bubbled from the burns, "I've been loyal! It is only logical that I – "
"Perhaps your father has more faith in Conner!" Gracyn spoke up, hoping to distract Celeste from Emile, spare him some of the torture. It worked, and Celeste walked over to the hanging boy, clicking her tongue as she faced him, pulling out a knife and putting it to his neck. Gracyn bared his neck, almost daring her to kill him. She pressed the blade lightly against his skin, leaving a thin, shallow cut, "I wouldn't blame him," he continued, "at least he'd have the guts to kill me!" This made Celeste laugh, and she put a hand on Gracyn's cheek.
"Oh you dumb, dumb boy." She said with a smirk, her angers seemingly melted away, "my brother could never kill you. He loves you too damn much." He taunted, looking him in eyes with a satisfied, yet sadistic smile, "love...Such a shallow emotion, a waste of space." She said before turning away and walking out of their cell, leaving the door open and conjuring a plan of her own.
"Father!" She called out as she entered the fire ridden area. Trees caught ablaze and what could be seen as the sky covered with smoke, it was her own personal heaven. "Father," she greeted as she reached her father's throne, greeted by his humane form he always used to greet Celeste, "we need to talk."
Her father turned to face her. The two looked very similar, almost exactly alike, except he was taller, and his skin cracked from the dry air. He walked up to his daughter, putting a hand on her cheek, "Celeste, my darling, what seems to be the matter?"
"It's Conner," she started, and her father sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, but she swatted his hand away, "father, why is he gaining more strength than me?!" She asked, her anger boiling once again.
"Darling, you've received quite enough. I'm using the remainder of the mages' energy to fuel myself, if your brother refuses to join us, I must be ready to kill him." He rationalized, but Celeste didn't seem satisfied.
"I want more," she demanded, "give me what Conner has!" Her eyes filled with greed.
"And if he decides to join us?" The King asked, tilting his head to the side.
