Fallen One (Book three of Alfireán age)

- Takoorah -

Drake channeled energy into his left eye, activating dragon ra'avah, and slowly scanned the store, searching for Alf. Truth be told, he wasn't pleased with the food the women were procuring. Olivia had refused to let them buy anything with specific ingredients in them. She'd insisted she was the healer of the group; thus, it was her job to make certain they were all healthy, and she couldn't do that if they were killing themselves from the inside out. And for some stupid reason, the maids and the grand champion agreed with her.

Drakovian grunted in agitation. Their so-called healthy purchases would require them to stop and prepare meals instead of eating on the go, which would be both problematic and annoying. The more Drake thought about it, the more he relished the thought of joining up with his elite bodyguards and once again regaining his authority.

At last, a bright blue energy source lit up his eyes, and Drake sighed. There was Alf, sitting on the far end of the store. Surprisingly, the young High Lord's magic signature seemed even brighter than usual; he noted as he closed his dragon eye.

Leaving the five squabbling women to redo the shopping he had already done, the prince strolled through the building.

Passing the section that sold baby bottles, diapers, and off-brand power storage gems, Drake found Alf in the back of the shop, sitting on a floating sphere and reading a scrying.

The young High Lord looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "They're done?" he asked, a note of surprise in his voice.

"Annoyingly, no," Drake stated in agitation as he leaned against the wall next to Alf. "Olivia hasn't even finished her list yet," he said, crossing his arms and propping his foot back against the curved store wall.

Alf chuckled and nodded in understanding.

"What are you reading?" the prince asked, determined not to let the clucking brood get to him.

Alf held out the scrying for him to take a look. "The Bible," he answered simply.

"Ah," Drake mumbled as his eyes briefly scanned over the page. He started to turn away—the prince was in no mood for God-talk—when his eyes landed on a line that leaped out at him. 'It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment:.'

Drakovian pulled back, the image of Olivia's shining eyes and white wings once again reappearing in his mind. The woman had been a mere breath away from killing him. He closed his eyes and shook his head; that was the last thing Drakovian wanted to think about right now.

"Drake, are you afraid of death?" the young High Lord asked as if he had read his mind.

The prince glanced back at Alf, keeping his face carefully neutral. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, while I wasn't exactly cognizant during what happened, to hear Pony tell it, it sounds like Olivia nearly killed you," Alf said, a look of both concern and amusement on his face.

"Olivia is a woman of reason. She would never harm me over something so trivial," Drake stated, hiding how he had really felt at the time. "I was never in any real danger."

"I know that, and you know that, but it's not how you felt at the time, is it?" Alf asked once again, his sharp blue eyes peering into him as if they were reading his thoughts. If it had been one of the unicorns, Drakovian would've assumed as such, but he knew Alf couldn't.

"You are correct," he finally admitted, rubbing his eye-patch as he took a deep breath. "I was genuinely scared for my life in that moment."

The young Lord nodded. "So, what do you think would've happened if you had died?"