What Lurks Behind The Trees

A short journey

"Come with me, Isabella," Edmund said softly to his daughter who was crouched on the floor with her hands covering her ears from the agonised screams of the women who had all been transformed now. "They won't hurt you, come now,"

He reached out his hand and lifted her head "Come with me." he said one last time, her face was drenched in shed tears, she sniffed a couple of times and stood up with her father.

They locked the night slayers in the cell and walked away from the dungeons. Isabella's bare feet tapped against the marble floors of the castle, her eyes wandered over the walls, at the beautiful chandeliers and the colourful paintings.

She had been locked up in the dungeons a few years after her birth, she had forgotten what it was like to live, she had forgotten the taste of meat, she had forgotten the smell of flowers and the feeling of a plush mattress under her back. She was what her father had first called her, a mistake, she was supposed to be a boy, one that could carry the family's name with pride and power, one that could rule a kingdom. Now she wondered if she really was a Shield, if her father really was Edmund Shield, because he knew magic and her grandfather, Richard Shield, who had also died mysteriously, was not a magician.

"I couldn't bear to see my daughter become a monster," Edmund said. Isabella looked at his back as he walked in front of her "I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry."

Isabella's eyes widened. Her father had just apologized to her, for what though? For all these years? For being the worst father? For hiding his real identity? For wanting to turn her into a monster? She didn't know.

"I...I- we're facing some trouble with the magicians, a possible war, and I can't seem to think straight," He spoke, his voice muffled with genuine distress, like he was about to break down any second. "It's my fault, it's all my fault, but I can't turn back now, there is no way, arrangements have been made and I can't lose to him," she watched as his fists turned white from being clenched so hard.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I have these bottled up thoughts in my head, I need someone to listen to me... just listen." He walked to a room and beaconed Isabella in "Wait outside." he told Rogerus.

Edmund sat on one of the sofas and Isabella sat on a separate one. She looked at him warily, scared that he might suddenly burst. He rubbed his face anxiously.

"Isabella, I don't know what to do, though I know I'll win this war, I'm certain I won't be a winner. The people despise me and it's understandable, but I have this anger in my heart, this anger drives me to do things."

"Why are you angry?"

"It's Jarin, it's Jarin Randoul, my father, he killed me, once, twice, over and over again."

"I'm not going to ask who you are, but don't you think you did the same to me?" Isabella said.

Edmund scoffed "What I did to you was nothing, I merely separated you from my life,"

"Merely... yes, you're definitely not fit to be king,"

"What did you say? You dare say that to my face?!" he frowned.

"You're not mentally well, father," she spoke softly, "It might have been from the way you were treated as a child, but father please, you must stop this, if you are having regrets, please stop all this nonsense!"

"Regrets?! What regrets? I have enemies everywhere, I'm not weak, I will defeat every one of them! I defeated the biggest one yet, my father, I will not sit here and let my brother take the throne from me, the one that I worked hard to get!" He was starting to lose his temper.

"Who are you?" Isabella asked in a low voice.

"I am the king." He stood up and left the room.

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"Didn't you say that you sent a pigeon to Aigronyth?" Dyron asked Venkalth

"Something must have happened, I sent it quite a while ago, maybe the queen destroyed it," Venkalth replied.

"We need to know what my son is planning, what if he's got an army?"

"Then the only way is to go ourselves," Venkalth stood up "Want to go?" he asked Dyron.

"Yes! Yes of course!"

"Then let's go now, my spies tell me that the king is ready, he has the support of everyone in the kingdom, excluding Cedric and Elias,"

"We definitely need some help then, from Aigronyth," Dyron said, sounding worried.

"We could ask Elias to join us, he's got some good men. I'll tell Lazarus to do that while we go to Aigronyth."

Dyron walked to where his daughters were sitting with the other magicians, waving about in a comical manner "Celia, Laina, I'll be going to Aigronyth for a few days, don't make any trouble,"

"I want to go," Celia pouted.

"It'll be a quick journey, I'll be back in the blink of an eye,"

"Please! Please, I want to see Gregor!" she whined.

"She can come if she wants to," Venkalth said as he walked passed them.

Celia's mouth opened in a wide smile "Really?! Oh thank you Venkalth!" she hugged Venkalth and skipped to the gates of the Western peaks. Dyron sighed in defeat.

"No let's go this way, it'll take us to the top of the mountain," Venkalth said. They walked up the stairs, and more stairs, Celia lost count. They reached a small door, and once Venkalth opened it, they saw the sky.

They walked up the steps leading to the door, and truly they were on the top of the Western peaks. The wind blew Celia's hair over her face, though the annoying dress that she wore was no longer there to annoy her, she had changed into a pair of breeches and a tunic from the magicians.

Venkalth closed his eyes for a few seconds and a bright purple glowed out of them when he opened them again.

"Woah!" Celia exclaimed.

Then slowly, a white flare grew from behind him, twisting into different shapes. It grew larger and larger and Celia's eyes widened when she realised what it was becoming. The dragon's eyes formed first, they opened, purple amethysts that stared right back at her. The legs, tail, jaw and teeth formed, like icicles, sharp and strong, and finally the wings, so large so powerful. Celia's mouth hung open as she gasped in wonder, the wings flapped a couple of time, knocking her down to the ground with the strong wind that they created.

"Climb on," Venkalth said.

Dyron was reluctant at first, but he moved towards the dragon, the air from its nostrils blowing his hair away. "Celia, come!"

Celia walked carefully to the dragon. Up close, the scales were like ice, reflective of the object in front of them, the eyes were the size of her body. The dragon growled deeply, and Celia stumbled back, startled at the blaring sound.

"Zaveo, say hello to our friends," Venkalth laughed "Come on now, hurry up" he called out to them, he was already sat comfortably on the broad back of Zaveo.

"Here, let me carry you," Dyron helped Celia up by her waist, she held onto Venkalth's hand and he pulled her up. Dyron followed her.

"His name's Zaveo? He's really beautiful," Celia told Venkalth.

"I know, but you better hold on now, it's going to get windy," He smirked, and without warning, Zaveo pushed off the ground with a strong thrust of his legs. Celia shrieked loudly, holding her father tightly, Dyron himself was yelling. 

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