|Age of Dragons| Regicide

{1}

Boom!
    "Illya!" Fletcher shouted as he awoke. Sweating heavily, he jerked upwards, finding himself in a room with stone cold walls. The bed he sat on was made of straw, where the cover he had over his sweating, shirtless, well-toned, light skin body was made of a thin layer of wool. There was a doorway covered by a thin layer of cloth meant to act as a door. Fletcher pulled at his scarlet red hair in annoyance; he had been having the same recurring dream for the past few months.
    Moments later, someone slid past the woven door to Fletcher's room. This individual was a jet black, long haired female who acted as an elder sister to Fletcher, she was Fletcher's adopted sister. Everyone knew, though they all thought it would be best if Fletcher had not been told. However, the scarlet-haired male had found out himself and found his so-called sister maintaining the lie.
    "It happened again didn't it?" the jet haired female asked. Her loose white nightgown blew to the side, showing that the place in which they stayed was not sealed off from the outside world.
    Fletcher merely nodded in response, staring down at his hands to still find a silver ring on the third finger of his left hand. As he stared at his hands, another pair slowly slid over his own, causing him to look up, meeting with his sister's dark brown eyes. His sister's dark brown orbs stared back into his emerald green eyes.
    "It's just a dream, Fletcher. Illya's going to be fine," she spoke softly.
    "That's what I want to believe... but something just isn't right. Something's coming," Fletcher spoke worriedly.
    Robin pulled her sibling into a tender hug, holding him closely as if he were her child. Fletcher buried his face into Robin's chest, wanting nothing more than to hide his pain.
    "Illya was a pirate before she met you. Her skills are unmeasurable. I'm certain that she'll be okay," Robin reassured.
    "I know... I just don't want Iris to have to grow up without a mother, like we did. Did I wake her up?"
    Robin pulled herself away from her brother, pushing past the curtain, she found a little red-haired girl about five years old, her dress as white as the snow that was soon to come. The child's eyes the same color as her father's, emerald green. In her arms she held a small stuffed bear she had received from her mother at a young age.
    "Auntie? Is daddy okay," Iris questioned worriedly.
    Quickly getting up, Fletcher stepped out of his room, crouching down to his daughter's height. Cracking a smile, he spoke:
    "I'm okay, honey. I just had a bad dream."
    "Again? Do you need to see Chief Ishtar? I heard that people go to him when they have bad dreams. My friends told me that some dreams are actually visions of the future," Iris spoke.
    The scarlet-haired male shook his head.
    "I'm certain that it's not a vision. Curse magic is said to alter the mind, and with the rapid increase of it in the vicinity, it could be affecting my dreams," Fletcher explained briefly. "On top of that, I've never had much of a resistance to curse magic."
    "It's not affecting me though. Why is it only affecting you?"
    "You got your mother's immunity. She is a curse magic mage, she's used her magic so much that she became immune to it all together. Robin uses light magic (otherwise known as bless magic), her resistance to curse magic comes from her own type of magic... It's like how you and I have resistances to ice magic because of our own fire magic," Fletcher explained. "However, the two of us have been immune to fire magic since birth, your fire immunity comes from me, but I myself don't know where my own immunity comes from," he added.
    "Oh. Maybe you should ask Mommy to help you get a resistance!"
    Fletcher chuckled.
    "You're right, I should, but first you need to go back to bed little missy."
    "Okay! Goodnight!"
    With that, the little girl ran back to her own room and crawled into bed without another word.
    The scarlet-haired male had other plans. He wasn't going back to sleep, instead he chose to get up for the day and prepared himself for a day's work. Moving over to the far corner of his room, neatly folded clothes lay on the floor. Grabbing a top, Fletcher pulled it over his head. Next, he left his room to enter a large open area where old and tattered furniture had been placed around various places. By a rotting wooden shelf hung a chest-plate made from leather and dragon scales. It was a gift Fletcher and Illya had received on their wedding day from a member of Illya's crew. Illya had never worn it, the chest-plate was too large for her body size. It fit Fletcher like a glove. Upon taking the chest-plate, the emerald-eyed male pulled it over his head and began to tighten the straps along the sides.
    "Starting the day early? What are the plans today," Robin questioned?
    "I'm going to meet up with Ardor, we'll do some hunting, from there I'll stop at the market... then I'll come back and get Iris to take her to the village for her training with Petra."
    Once he was finished with the armor, Fletcher moved around the house grabbing the necessary weapons he would require. The first weapon was a longbow with carvings all along the wooden shaft; though the carvings were in bizarre shapes and symbols that turned out to be an ancient language that no one speaks. Alongside the bow was a quiver filled with arrows, all of which had the same design. Next was a silver spear that had been decorated with silver vines covered in thorns all along the shaft. On the spear head, a ruby laid in the center, protruding from both sides, while the blade itself was rigid on one end, and the other end being a smooth blade meant for slashing. This spear had once been a weapon that belonged to the captain of the King's Guard of Flaconia; however, after having lost a bet to Fletcher, the spear was given up with no resistance. Finally, was a silver-bladed dagger with a dragon bone hilt, that Illya had given to her husband before the two had tied the knot. The dagger glistened in the moons' light, giving the scarlet-haired male a perfect reflection of himself on the blade. Sheathing the dagger, Fletcher slid a belt through the sheath and wrapped it around his waist while pulling the bow over his head to hang around his body. Strapping the quiver to his belt, the emerald-eyed male stepped out of the old house with his spear in hand.
    "I'll be back before you know it," He grinned.
    "Don't forget your bag."
    Robin came out of the house holding Fletcher's satchel. The satchel having a dragon coiled around itself imprinted into its stitching.
    "Thanks," Fletcher threw the satchel over his left shoulder and departed.
    The travel to the village of Heim wasn't a long one, but it was never the safest route. Over the course of the last couple of months the path had only become even more dangerous. Three months ago, an unprecedented amount of curse magic flooded the continent of Flaconia. In result, the creatures known as the Dryads became far more aggressive making travel incredibly dangerous all over Flaconia. As Fletcher stalked along the trail, he found himself looking to the sky. Stars littered everywhere, making various different constellations in the sky, all the while the six moons lit up the night. The sounds of various animals filled the night, the light chirping of crickets, the wooing of owls in the distance, the rushing of water from the nearby Sol River; the emerald-eyed male smiled slightly taking in his surrounding as he traveled. After what had been a decent amount of time, Fletcher came to a fork in the trail. On the left, the trail led to the village of Heim, while the other led to the cliffside by the ocean. Knowing where he needed to go, the fire mage took the trail to the right. Though the village was closer to him, Fletcher was headed to meet his closest friend and guardian at their home. The two often went hunting together, and would help each other with their own magic types. Though Fletcher's specialty was fire magic and was initially trained by his adopted father, Ardor specialized in wind magic which he had learned from the village's next chieftess, Syndra. Due to the different magic types, the two would help each other in learning the basics of the other magic, opening up more room for adaptation when it came to battle. A mile's walk later, Fletcher stopped dead in his tracks.
    The strong and revolting scent of blood filled the mage's nostrils causing him to cover his mouth and nose. Quickly reacting to what might have come next, the scarlet-haired male hopped off the path, concealing himself in the forest of trees, the crunching of leaves being a very consistent sound throughout the night. Propping his spear against the closest tree, Fletcher pulled the longbow off his back and quickly knocked an arrow into place, his right hand on the arrow and the bow string while his left held the bow, sticking his back to a tree large enough to conceal his presence momentarily before getting ready to take a peak around. Poking his head out from behind the tree, nothing could be seen through the moonlit forest. Then something moved, it was quick... too quick to be another person. Slowly progressing forward, the emerald-eyed male hid behind another trunk only sticking out his head momentarily to check for further movement. The scent of blood only got stronger as Fletcher moved, the stench having become almost unbearable at this point. Finally reaching the source, the scarlet-haired male was greeted with a horror show. Four bodies, each one having been mauled beyond recognition, the forest floor having been covered in the blood and entrails of the bodies. With a good idea as to what had happened, the mage channeled his magic, creating a fireball in his right hand. The flickering light filled the area, revealing the perpetrators, a pack of six Dryads, pure black shapeshifting creatures, each one having taken the form of a wolf. Reacting to the new threat, Fletcher threw the fireball, igniting the ground. However, the flame didn't just cause an explosion of flames, the intent of the flame was to create a ring of fire that would prevent the Dryads from advancing. Growling in annoyance, the shapeshifters, circled the flame as though they might be able to find a way through. Though instead of waiting for the creatures to make a move, Fletcher drew back his bow and let an arrow fly through the flames, striking the mid section to one of the wolf-like creatures, ending its life. More growling came from the creatures, what seemed to be the leader of the pack attempted to jump through the flames being burned to a crisp in the process. The remaining four continued to circle the scarlet-haired mage as he drew two arrows and knocked them to the string.     Drawing back the bow string, the mage carefully prepared his next attack, looking to try and take the shapeshifters down as quickly as possible. Letting the arrows loose, one found its way into the eye of a Dryad spewing blood from its face before it fell to the ground dead, while the other missed its target. The ring of flames began to die down. Fletcher tossed the bow to the ground, drawing his dagger in his left while his right arm burst into flames, scorching the sleeve of his shirt off. Shortly later, the flame lowered even more, leaving enough room for something to jump over the wall of flames. A dryad attempted this and was met with a quick slash to the throat where its black blood spewed out before its life ceased to go on. The final two took their time, continuing to wait as the flames dropped lower and lower. When the flames finally died, both creatures made no hesitation and went for the kill. The scarlet-haired male took no time in setting out his next attacks; as quickly as the Dryads moved on him, Fletcher chucked his dagger at a blinding speed into the head of an advancing shapeshifter while using his right to send a beam of flames towards the other, burning off his sleeve in the process.
    "Impressive. Illya really taught you how to throw knives."
    The emerald-eyed male was startled by the voice, recognizing and realizing where the voice had come from, the mage quickly looked up to the trees to find a figure sitting upon one of the lower branches, while he patted out the small flame that had appeared on his right shoulder.
    "Seems you're still the same as always," Fletcher retorted, retrieving his dagger from the skull of the newly killed Dryad.
    "Oh come on! Don't be like that, you clearly had that handled," the figure laughed.
    "Yeah, whatever. Just get down from there, you bastard."
    The figure dropped from the branch, quickly being illuminated in the moonlight. The individual wore a brown leather chest-plate that had the Heim Clan's crest on it, a white rose with droplets of blood decorating it; they wore deer skin breeches, black steel boots, a one-handed longsword strapped to their waist, a shield on their back. Their dirty blonde hair had been tied up into a bun, while their silver eyes seemed to glow in the night. They seemed to be hidden better in the dark, due to the shade of their skin being a very light brown. This was Ardor.
    "I'm gonna assume you didn't come out here for nothing, like these poor souls," Ardor spoke, gesturing to the mangled bodies that lay at their feet.
    "Bandits?"
    "Bandits," the blonde confirmed. Ardor paused for a moment. "Oh! I didn't do this. I killed them... just not to this extent, they had quick deaths. I just left the bodies to see if it would lure some of the Dryads away from my home, and it worked."
    "I see... There was no guarantee that you'd be up, but I was coming to see if you would like to do some hunting. I need to bring in a little money and food before I head home, and you know how things have been lately. It's not safe to travel alone," Fletcher spoke, snapping his fingers the corpses burst into flames.
    "Let's go."
    "We'll have to go back a bit of a ways, I left my spear behind 'cause I couldn't carry it with my bow in my hands," Fletcher explained, pulling his bow from the ground and over his head before yanking his dagger from the Dryad's corpse, getting lightly spayed by the black blood of the creature.
    "Man, you need to get a strap of some kind, so you can just throw the spear over your back when you don't need it," Ardor groaned, having known this was a common occurrence.
    "I know... I know that all to well," he sighed.
    The two began their journey to retrieve the fire mage's spear. Once the spear had been retrieved, the moons had begun to lose their nightly glow, the stars were beginning to fade, and the sky was lightening. With the day starting for everyone else,     Fletcher and Ardor decided they should get to work. Wasting no time, the two found optimal places for hunting and prepared for what was to come. Fletcher holding his bow in hand, an arrow knocked to the string, ready to fire at a moments notice; Ardor had positioned himself in a tree where he had his sword drawn. The blonde's plan was to drop from the branches to kill whatever ended up below... it wasn't such a great plan, but he didn't have much else since he hadn't traveled back home to retrieve his bow.
    "Fletcher, did you hear about the Hawthorns coming to the village?" asked Ardor.
    "No, they're already coming back?"
    "Yeah, seems the last contribution didn't last long. There's some big event is going on back in the kingdom and they need fighters for it," the blonde explained.
    "If they need fighters, shouldn't they go to the front lines looking for fighters? They have an army full of Dragon Slayers, and mages," explained Fletcher.
    "That's what I was thinking, but I think they're looking towards fighters that use a more primal way of fighting."
    "Why would they need that? Does people dying not satisfy their bloodlust?" Fletcher questioned.
    "My guesses are as good as yours, people just like watching other people die." The blonde male scratched at the back of his head nervously. "What if you get called to be a gladiator? What will happen to Iris and Illya?"
    "I don't have the slightest clue. I guess I'll have to get them to move into the village, or maybe you'll have to help them, maybe her crew could look after them... but I don't feel comfortable leaving them in someone else's hands," the scarlet haired male stated. He was unsure of what would happen if he were called to be a fighter. Why would they call for him anyway? All he knew was how to hunt and a little bit of fire magic, but not much else.
    The emerald-eyed male sat in silence for moment. His mind running through all of the possibilities to what could happen. Though there was nothing he could do to prepare himself anyway. It was like he was caught in a riptide, helpless to do anything.
    Ardor constantly gazed in Fletcher's direction, noticing his silence. It was almost like Fletcher was a different man. However, he knew Fletcher was the same person, just something felt off about him. Then again, Ardor had to put himself in his friend's shoes, there was a chance that he would be called off as a gladiator as well, after all, he was a bodyguard that was particularly skilled in wind magic. If he were to be called to be a fighter, sure he'd win a few of the fights, but at some point he would surely lose his life.
    A stag stroke into the clearing. It peered around, surveying the area. Fletcher having concealed himself well drew back the bow string and waited. The stag slowly moved to the fire mages right, still a good distance away, enough of a distance it would be hard for Fletcher to land his shot. Glancing to a nearby tree where Ardor had perched himself, the scarlet-haired male shifted the arrow he held slightly, but enough for Ardor to see. The blonde nodded in response, bringing his right hand up, his palm open where wind began to gather, drawing his hand back almost like he was going to throw a rock, he turned to Fletcher and made a snarky grin. The arrow was let loose, and at the same time, the wind mage swung his arm, releasing the gathered magic. What would have been a moderately paced shot that would strike the heart, diverted its course and became a whistling blur that shot through its target's head, spraying the stag's dark red ooze and brain matter all over the nearby trees and the forest floor and permanently lodged the arrow into the tree it struck.
    "My gods! What the hell was that," Fletcher shouted?!
    "That's what I call: The Heaven Piercing Arrow," the blonde stood triumphantly, sheathing his sword and striking a pose in the tree. A second later, he lost his balance and fell from the branches, hitting the ground with a loud thud and a groan of pain.
    Throwing his bow over his head and running over to the body, Fletcher stopped once he had reached the fallen animal. He winced.
    "Yikes, that's worse than getting shot with a flintlock point blank in the face." Before the fire mage's eyes was a gaping hole that one could see straight through. The hole was big enough, someone could stick three of their fingers through and see their fingers on the other side.
    "Wanna know how I got the idea," Ardor grinned happily. running over to his friend's side.
    "No."
    "Come on," the wind mage whined.
    "Absolutely not."
    "Fine, I'll just teach it to your daughter," Ardor grinned evily.
    Fletcher lit his left fist on fire and smashed it against the blonde's face, knocking Ardor off balance and what seemed to be eight feet away.
    "Don't even think about it," he growled, his fanged teeth showing through his unhappy snarl with his hand still balled up and set ablaze.
    "Okay.. you didn't have to be so direct about it... there was no need to use your inhuman strength... a normal punch would have sufficed," the wind mage groaned, holding the now slightly burned and bruised right side of his face.
    Fletcher sighed. the flames dispersing.
    "It was a normal punch last time and you know those jokes piss me off. In my book, you deserved it."
    Ardor brought himself to his feet, still holding his face. Fletcher on the other hand was now holding the stag's carcass by its horns.
    "Hold this." He threw the body, catching his guardian off guard as he frantically caught it, confused as to why his friend had just done such a thing. While Ardor was questioning things, the emerald-eyed male had walked off.
    A moment later, the fire mage returned with his spear in hand, where he drew it back slightly with the curved blade faced in the blonde's direction. Not entirely realizing what Fletcher was about to do, the wind mage opened his mouth to say something, but before words came out, the scarlet-haired male took a quick swipe with the blade. Startling his friend Ardor screamed as though he was in pain, only to realize that he was now holding the severed head of a stag, its blood having been spayed all over his clothes.
    "Warn me next time," Ardor shouted!
    "Don't be such be so melodramatic," Fletcher huffed.
    "You nearly cut me in half! I think it's an adequate amount of drama!" Now realizing he was still holding the animal's head, he tossed it away from him. "Ew," he shuddered.
Fletcher only shrugged in response, picking up the stag's now headless body and throwing its rear end over his shoulder while stabilizing it with his left hand and holding the silver thorn spear in his right.
    "Will you cut off the antlers? We can sell those," the scarlet-haired male asked.
    "Um sure. I know you guys need the extra profit, but do you think Illya will get good pay for what she's doing though?" Ardor dropped to his knees, already beginning his work in cutting off the antlers. Normally someone would saw the antlers off, but Ardor had other plans. Instead, he channeled his magic through his finger tips, releasing some of that energy, a small gust of wind shot through the area, slicing the antlers off almost like someone was cutting through paper. After cutting the first, he quickly cut the second, picking them up and traveling to his friend's side.
    "I wouldn't know. The Queen of Proteron asked for her help, but it wasn't explained in the message for reasons that couldn't be explained because someone is planning something, looking for things that could stop them, blah, blah, something like that or along those lines. I don't see a clear picture of what's going on, then again no one really does except the people within the queen's circle. In any case, I say it's possible that she walks away with a good pay, and maybe we could finally settle down in that house we always dreamed of, but I don't know."
    "When am I gonna stop hearing about this house? You two have talked about it since before Iris was born; however, it is yet to be built." The two started their walk back, intending to stop at the village before heading back out.
    "Our original plan was to build the house before Iris was born, but neither of us had the money. When we finally did, Iris was about three months old. We started to build the house, but Iris got sick, so all that money we had went towards helping our daughter get better. Now though, we still don't have enough which is why we're all living in that old rundown house... Robin living with us was not part of the plan though, you know what lead up to that, right? Damn that old bastard." Fletcher cursed.
    Ardor nodded. "Your 'father's incident' correct?"
    "That's right, and you know what happened to him because of it," Fletcher tighten his grip around his spear shaft angrily, wishing he would have been the one to end his 'father'.
    "He was disemboweled publicly for his crimes," Ardor shuddered at the thought as the scene played out in his head.
    The scarlet-haired male sighed, loosening his grip around the spear.
    "I know he wasn't related to you by blood, but he was still a father figure to you... I also know you wanted to be the one to finish him off. If I'm being quite honest, that's completely out of character," the blonde stated bluntly.
    "Is that your way of asking me why I wanted to kill him?"
    The wind mage nodded.
    The emerald-eyed male opened his mouth to answer, but he stopped before he said anything. The fire mage appeared to be conflicted, almost as if someone had placed false memories in his head. Something didn't add up, normally Fletcher kept a level head and would think through something like wanting to kill another person, but in this scenario the scarlet-haired male felt this unchained anger that only seemed to grow and corrupt his mind.
    "If I'm being entirely honest, I don't know."
    The fire mage stopped, checking his surrounding for a moment. Seeing that he and Ardor were still hidden in the forest of trees, Fletcher dropped the headless corpse to the ground, he placed the silver thorn spear on the ground beside him, where it crushed many of the dark brown leaves that had fallen months ago. Unsheathing his dagger, the scarlet-haired male cut open the stag's underbelly, spilling its entrails and blood all over the male's shoes. Moving further, Fletcher pushed his hands and dagger further into the body, severing the connections to the organs that now laid out in the open. He then went to skin the body, doing so took a bit of time, but once finished, the blonde guardian took the deer skin, throwing it over his left shoulder while having his shield out and sword drawn.
    "The best part of hunting," Ardor joked.
    "Haha very funny... Did you know that disemboweling is an execution method that stayed consistent for the Sky Dragons since ancient times?" asked Fletcher.
    "I did, because of what they did to the last Fire Dragon King. They forced the Ice Dragon Princess to disembowel him as a message to further push that they should not be defied," Ardor shuddered at the thought.
    Fletcher picked up the skinless body once again, throwing it over his right shoulder spilling blood onto his chest-plate and shirt he wore underneath as well as his sleeveless arm. Sheathing his dagger, and picking up his spear he and Ardor continued the journey. Leaving the entrails in a spot further away from the kill site was to lure dangerous animals further away from the trail to help ensure some safety for travelers. Now, the two mages trailed of from their original course, making their way back to the path. Several minutes passed before they reached the open path through the trees. Turning left, they progressed on their journey, the sun having reached its peak in the center of the sky once they greeted with the tall wooden village gates. A top the wooden gate stood a number of guards, all of which wore steel armor that covered their entire bodies, each chest-plate all decorated with the same emblem on Ardor's armor.
    "Ah! Fletcher and Ardor, I didn't even see the two of you pass by this morning," a guard spoke.
    "Yeah, we were up before your shift, Garen. I set out at the third hour of the morning," Fletcher responded.
    "I see, trouble sleeping? Open the gate."
    "As usual," Fletcher responded.
    The gate door, slowly opened up, allowing the blonde and the red head into a village bustling with people, many of which were carrying various items or bags. Shortly after walking into the village, a single, dark-haired, silver eyed individual with the same skin tone as Ardor waved from a small shop, catching the attention of both mages. Knowing who this person was, they made their way over to greet the owner.
    "Bayar, how's business," Ardor questioned?
    "As good as always, little brother," the shopkeep stated. "You two been out for awhile?"
    "You could say that. We've been up since before dawn," Fletcher stated bluntly.
    "Wow... let me guess, you had trouble sleeping because of that dream, and you decided to piss someone off enough to send bandits to attack you in the night." Bayar pointed an accusing finger in his brother's face. Despite being shorter than his little brother, Bayar had no trouble intimidating Ardor.
    "Ah. That's why they were there," the scarlet-haired male realized.
    "So, you came into contact with them? How did things go with that? If I were to take a wild guess, I'd say the two of you made that flaming tornado thing you two did the last time you got in trouble with the Royal Guards," the dark-haired male contemplated.
    The fire mage chuckled slightly, remembering the events that lead up to that moment.
    "No, I got them all before Fletcher got there. Hey, we should try that move again sometime. We were pretty young back then and it was pretty small, imagine what we could do now," the silver-eyed male grinned.
    "I only got to see what had happened after a pack of Dryads feasted off the bodies. You're right though, we should try it again at some point, see how much stronger we've gotten," the fire mage smirked devilishly.
    "Anyway, I'm sure the two of you came here 'cause you wanted to pawn off the deer skin and antlers, and supply on food... so the usual Fletcher," Bayar questioned? Ardor handed the skin and antlers to his older brother.
    "You've got that right," Fletcher responded.
    Bayar moved towards the back of his booth, grabbing a sack while beginning to fill to it with fruits and vegetables all the while keeping his eyes on the scarlet haired male and Ardor.
    "How was fighting these Dryads? I've heard that they've become too dangerous for people to travel long distances."
    "I'd say I got lucky. They caught me off guard, had I not been able to think on my feet I'd have become a midnight snack for those creatures," Fletcher explained.
    "Yeah right! You had that encounter totally under control. You should've seen it, he surrounded himself in a ring of fire while shooting arrows to get three of them. One of them tried to jump through the flames, got burned to a crisp, when the flames started to die, another successfully jumped over the fire and had its throat slit mid flight. Then, the last one was killed with Illya's signature dagger throw, it took a blade to the head," the blonde rambled.
    "Really? Seems you've really improved from your early days."
    "Yep, and get this, while I was fighting, this joker was sitting in a tree watching the whole thing instead of helping," Fletcher stated, punching his friend in the side.
    "So, you haven't changed at all since you moved out," Bayar sighed. "If you're tired of watching your back because my brother hides out in trees while you fight, you could move into the village. You'd have far more protection, and it'd be easier for you to get around," Bayar suggested.
    "Hey," the wind mage shouted! However, Ardor was only ignored and didn't get to say anything further.
    "That sounds like a good idea, but you know some of the men here are not fond of my wife... since many of them tried to get in her pants after she decided to stop her pirate career. They'd cause a problem, especially if they lay a hand on her... she'd probably cut their hands off before they could though," the emerald-eyed male chuckled slightly as he finished his sentence.
    "Okay, okay, I get what you mean," Bayar laughed. "Petra and I could always help you guys build that house you and Illya have always wanted, I'm sure Ardor would help too. You know, the cabin the two of you planned to build on the cliffside." He added.
    "We would love that, but we don't even have everything we need to start building. Plus, she's out at sea currently. The Queen of Proteron asked for her assistance... if I had to guess, I'd say she's just reached the Exiled Islands almost complete with her trip to Proteron."
    "So, almost finished with her journey there, then whatever she's got to help with," the elder sibling spoke, now putting the sack of food on the shop counter. "Twelve silver and forty-five copper."
    Fletcher reached into his satchel, pulling out a small pouch tied up at the top. Upon opening the pouch, the male's emerald eyes were greeted with a few gold coins with numerous amounts of silver and copper coins. Counting out the exact amount, the fire mage placed the money on the counter.
    "Have a good one, and be careful out there. I know Illya would never forgive you if you died, forcing her to raise Iris alone."
    "I don't plan on dying any time soon, don't worry. I'll see you around," Fletcher spoke as he stalked off with the sack of food hung over his right shoulder after having passed his spear off to hold both the stag and the sack of food..
    Bayar motioned to his younger brother, telling him to come close.
    Boom! Various things were thrown around the small shop, many hit the ground and shattered speading pieces of glass and all sorts of things all over the ground near Bayar's feet.
    "Keep an eye on him. The both of us know he's never bled a second in his life and he hasn't realized it himself. It's uncanny, but that doesn't mean he's invincible. Something out there is gonna get him hurt, and that super strength of his won't do him much good. Whatever is causing these earthquakes is having an effect on him. Just stand by your calling and keep him safe."
    "I will," the blonde stated.
    "Oh, and give this to Fletcher," reaching his hand out, Bayar handed his little brother a small pouch that seemed to be filled with coins. "That's the payment for the deer skin and antlers and a little extra for dropping by."
    "Always the forgetful one," Ardor chuckled, rushing after the scarlet-haired mage.
Upon reaching his friend, the silver-eyed male handed the pouch of money over, where Fletcher put it in his satchel. Continuing on their departure, the two mages made it back to Fletcher's house within an hour, the sun slowly making its way down through the sky. The exterior of the house clearly showed that the building was beginning to fall apart. Between the warped wood and foliage growing all over the house, it was at least suitable enough for non-picky people to live in. Standing in the doorway stood Robin, waiting for her younger brother to return, almost as if he were returning from school. Though that was a long time ago for Fletcher. It had been almost eight years since he had been in school, putting the emerald-eyed male at the age of twenty-four.
    "Did the two of you find much trouble along the way," asked Robin?
    "Only a few Dryads, and a couple of bandits on Ardor's part. Not much new," Fletcher shrugged. Bringing the sack inside and handing the stag off to Ardor while taking the silver thorn spear back inside, the scarlet-haired male set the fruits and vegetables into bowls in the would-be kitchen.
    "I'm going to be outside cooking the deer, I won't go far. Holler if you need me," he grinned, showing the fanged teeth that had remained in his mouth since childhood.
    Stepping from his home, the fanged-male moved a short distance out before reaching a stone fire pit, two steel rods on both sides, holding a larger rod with a pointed end and a handle on the other. The rod was covered black scorch marks all over its exterior. Ardor followed shortly behind, carrying the stag's carcass with both arms. With help from Fletcher, the two of them put the scorched rod through the limp body, and set the finished product on the support rods. From there, the two stalked off, grabbing various stick, dead leaves, and logs to set up a fire. Once enough had been gathered, the scarlet-haired mage began setting the logs up in the pit in a tipi formation while stuffing small sticks and leaves in between the logs to provide a larger flame. Once finished, the fire mage ignited his finger tips and lit the pile of wood ablaze.a low crackling came from the newly kindled flame as it slowly grew. While the flame grew, Fletcher set his weapon against a tree before he dropped down, to find himself sitting on a small boulder. With not much to do at the time, the scarlet-haired male crossed his legs, closed his eyes and began taking deep breaths. Slowly lifting his hands, both bursted into flames, resulting in louder crackling. The mage then focused immensely, causing magic power to flood into his hands, causing the flames to become larger until two enormous balls of flames were apparent in the fire mage's hands. Suddenly, Fletcher smashed his hands together, causing the flames to disperse in a wave-like fashion that was harmless to everything nearby.
    Shortly after, the emerald-eyed male opened his eyes, turning to Ardor who was now looking at him with a confused look upon his face.
    "You'll see," Fletcher responded simply.
    The sound of running stopped the silver-eyed wind mage from saying anything else. The blonde now drawing his shield, prepared from what was to come. However, he quickly found that having his guard up was entirely unnecessary.
    "Daddy!" The little red-haired girl came dashing into the clearing, jumping into her father's arms and wrapping her arms around him.
    "Careful now! I don't want you to get blood on your clothes." Fletcher had caught his daughter in his left arm while using his right arm to stabilize the new found weight.     "You've gotten so good! Your mother would be so proud of you." He added, spinning Iris around.
    "What exactly would that be," Ardor asked, still rather confused as to what was going on?
    "Illya and I have been teaching her to locate the source of a magical outburst. I converted some of my magic power into a concentrated energy wave and released it in all directions kinda like a distress call."
    "Oh, gathering and distributing," the wind mage acknowledged.
    Iris giggled.
    "Daddy says: it'll help me become a better mage."
    "He's right. If you can point out the source of a magic power outburst, you'll be able to find out if you're entering a fight you can win or you could find out that you need to run," the blonde explained.
    Now putting Iris down, Fletcher walked over to the fire pit, slowly beginning to turn the deer's body around over the flame.
    "Now, if you can do that while managing to learn your mother's magic and mine, I'm certain you'll become one of the strongest mages that Terra has ever seen."
    "That's right! I'll be stronger than you," the emerald-eyed child pointed a finger towards her father. "I'll be stronger than you too!" She then pointed at Ardor. "And I'll be able to turn into a big and strong red dragon!"
    Fletcher chuckled.
    "We'll see. If you can turn into a big red dragon, then I can too," the scarlet-haired male grinned.
    "No, only I can turn into a big red dragon," the five year old exclaimed! She then stuck her tongue out, making a playful face towards her parent.
    Ardor laughed. "Oh man, she's gonna be just like Illya when she grows up."
    "You should have seen her the other night. She was pretending to be a pirate... However, she made her way into Mommy's stuff, and pulled out all of her old pirate gear to play dress up."
    "Yikes. She looks like you, has your super strength, awareness, incredibly sensitive sense of smell, and un untold amount of durability when it comes to injury, yet has her mother's interests, attitude, intelligence, and creativity. Then she can use both curse and fire magic, are you sure that the two of you aren't just raising a hybrid draconian," the wind mage joked?
    "Ha ha, very funny, in order for that to happen, Illya and I would both have to be either draconian or a dragon, and we're not. Probably. Illya might have dragon lineage because she hails from Proteron, but I don't have the slightest clue as to where my lineage comes from. I kinda just assumed that I was human, and my family would if they were around, but maybe I will get some closure with the alchemy test Han said he was going to get done."
    "On the other hand, you were born in Flaconia. Robin's mother and father found you when you were three, wandering the woods alone. When they confronted you, they said that you reacted poorly and nearly set the two of them on fire. On top of that, I know you haven't noticed, but despite being smashed with hammers, slashed with swords and claws, stabbed with daggers, you've never bled once. That alone says something about you, and a three year old using fire magic when he's got no language skills or interactions with human life, that further pushes that you're something far different," Ardor explained. "If you wanted to get an idea about your lineage, you could always go to an alchemist, I'm sure Han would be willing to help."
    "I did, well... not really. It's more like, I gave him a few strands of my hair and asked him to take them to an alchemist."
    "Hawthorn," Iris questioned?
    "Why would you suggest him though?"
    "He's offered to help you multiple times. He's also offered to move you, Illya, and Iris to the capital, but you've always declined. Though he mentioned he would be asking you for help the next time he comes to the village."
    Fletcher stopped turning the deer over the flame.
    "Did he say what it was about?"
    "No. Something too dangerous to talk about, kinda like the Queen's request for Illya," explained the wind mage.
    "Do you think the two objectives could be related," questioned Fletcher?
    "Not a clue, but if they are, there could be a war brewing in the background. Whether it be between Proteron and Flaconia or any other country, if we end up involved we gotta skip, I'll help you and get Iris onto a ship Illya's ship with her crew, and you'll sail to the ends of Terra, or you'll hide somewhere like the Exiled Islands."
    "Why would we have to run," Iris butted in? Scratching her head lightly, the scarlet-haired child gave a very confused look.
    Fletcher clenched his jaw slightly, not really knowing how to explain the situation to his five-year old daughter. Turning to his guardian, he gestured for a little help. Ardor appeared to be puzzled for a moment, before recalling something he had been told once before.
    "According to someone my brother met many years ago, Fletcher has a very important role to play in the things that are to come. If he were to die before he finds his place, our home will burn. That's why Chief Ishtar made it so my calling is to protect your father," the blonde did his best to explain, not really picking up on the fact that he was speaking to a five-year old.
    "What?" Iris tilted her head slightly, not fully grasping what had just reached her ears.
    "What he means is, if something bad happens to me, then very bad things are going to happen," Fletcher spoke.
Iris nodded slightly, now understanding more of what she had been told.
    "I really don't know what that means though either. There was no real emphasis on why someone would say, let alone think that I'd be important to things that are going to happen," added the scarlet-haired male.
    Before anyone else could get another word out, both Fletcher and Iris reacted to the sound of footsteps and hooves crackling against the ground in the distance. They couldn't tell how many people and horses were, but they were able to quickly identify that the sound was moving in their direction.
    "A bunch of people and horses are coming this way," Iris spoke hesitantly.
    "It could be Han's soldiers, but I don't want to take any chances. Iris, run back to the house and tell Robin we might have company." Fletcher snapped his fingers, snuffing out the flame that had been cooking the deer. Reacting quickly, the mage pulled his bow from around his head, reached into his quiver and knocked three arrows to the string.
    Iris darted off, running back to the rundown home.
    "You should've brought your crossbow," Fletcher sighed.
    "You're right, but you know how I like to fight," replied Ardor. The blonde now drawing his blade and positioning his shield in front of him.
    "Up close and personal," Fletcher smirked slightly. "Mind giving me a little boost?"
    "You got it."
    The wind mage, took action, channeling magic around Fletcher's body for a moment before he swung his shield in an upwards motion. The result created an updraft that sent the fire mage up into the upper branches of a nearby tree where he now had an eagle's eye view. Giving a quick thumbs up, Fletcher pulled the bowstring back, preparing himself for whatever headed his way. In the distance, the scarlet-haired male spotted a slight amount of movement, but couldn't point anything out clearly.
    "We've got movement up ahead," Fletcher called out.
    Ardor in response, concealed himself within the forest, taking cover behind a large stump. Peeking over every couple of seconds, the blonde caught sight of a silver armored individual a top a large black horse. Shortly after, several others followed. Not taking any chances, the blonde stepped out from behind cover, his shield placed in front, and sword pointed forward. Though before the group of soldiers got within fifteen feet of Ardor, Fletcher let his arrows loose, firing them into the ground before the first soldier, bringing his horse to a sudden stop.
    "Who's passing through," Fletcher shouted from the tree he had perched in.
    "General Hawthorn and his battalion," the lead soldier shouted back. "Who's asking?"
    "Fletcher Nether-born and Ardor Sentinel. May I ask why you've taken a different route? General Hawthorn and his soldiers have never come this way before," Ardor replied.
    "We encountered a group of rebels on our way here, they blocked off the main road. The general also thought it would be favorable to bring you and your daughter to the clan since we were coming this way."
    Fletcher began making his way down the tree, the male wrapped his arms and legs around the trunk, sliding to the forest floor with the sound of crunching leaves and broken branches.
    "The princess? Why's she coming this far out," the fire mage questioned?
    "That's not something I would know. I believe it's related to the things you'll discuss with General Hawthorn." The soldier repositioned himself, having lost his balance momentarily.
    "No information on that either, I assume?"
    "Correct."
    Ardor laughed, knowing the soldiers would have no information on the coming discussion.
    "What? It was worth a shot," Fletcher defended. "Continue on your way, I'll follow you all shortly."
    The battalion resumed its journey, many armored individuals and horses passed through. All of the soldiers had been armed with swords, spears, axes, bows, daggers, mage staffs, and shields. Towards the back of the group were the flag bearers, each one carrying a scarlet red flag decorated with a raven tangled in a thorn bush. Moments later Iris had come running back, a small flame in her left hand, while a dark ghastly orb hovered above her right, but upon seeing Fletcher and Ardor unharmed, both dissipated. The emerald-eyed little girl smiled, showing she had inherited her father's fangs, running over to her father's side.
    "We're fine. It's just Han's soldier's passing through."
    "Where is Mister Hawthorn," Iris questioned, not knowing if he had shown.
    The scarlet-haired male began to look over the passing group, not finding anyone notable outside the standard armor. When Fletcher couldn't find him in the battalion, he seemed to be looking all along the path as though he'd lost something. After a few minutes of looking around, the scarlet-haired male returned to the fire pit, the soldiers had passed and the fire mage found himself spotting two horses coming down the path, one as white as snow, and the other as brown as the wood of an oak tree. A top these two horses where two individuals, on top of the brown horse was a light skinned man in blood red clothing with armor made of dragon bones and scales, the Hawthorn sigil upon their right shoulder, and a dragon coiled around itself on the left, maroon colored hair, ocean blue eyes, light facial hair along their jawline and chin, and a diagonal scar on the left side of their face. The individual upon the white horse was a woman who wore white clothing, silver dragon forged armor with blue accents around the edges that covered almost everything except the individual's head along side areas near joints and a good bit of the forearm. The woman carried no sigil upon her armor, but her appearance was recognizable, the long silver hair, golden eyes, her pearl white skin, and the soft expression she wore.
    Once having reached a certain point, both individuals dismounted, tying their horses to nearby trees and made their way to the fanged-male. Around this time, Fletcher had restarted the fire and had begun working on the stag once again.
    "I hope my soldiers didn't cause you any trouble," the maroon-haired male spoke, reaching out his right hand.
    "No, the only soldier that causes a problem is Swain, they just startled me and Iris is all," Fletcher replied, reaching out, and shaking hands with the general. "Thought you were hostiles. It'd be smarter to have your flag bearers at the front."
    The silver-haired woman laughed, knowing the context to the relationship of hate Fletcher and Swain had for each other.
    "Swain was dishonorably discharged after the last incident," the woman smiled.
    "Our flag bearers were up front. However, we moved them to the back when we came across a group of Fire Faction Rebels. They were blocking our direct path to the village, and as you can see, we decided to take a detour to prevent any bloodshed."
    Fletcher nodded. "Princess Rhea, I don't believe we've met before. I'm Fletcher Nether-born, it's a pleasure to meet you." The scarlet-haired mage took a small bow.
    "There's no need for formalities, Fletcher. I'm quite aware of who you are, I assume my cousin has been treating you well," asked the princess?
    "Ardor does for the most part, he's a bit of a slacker and a joker if you ask me though," Fletcher snickered. Ardor rolled his eyes in response.
    "That's what I've been told, but I also heard he has a hot temper, and that it tends to get him into trouble quite frequently." The woman turned to glare at her sibling. The blonde raised his hands defensively as though he were about to be attacked.
    "Don't hurt me, I don't need a draconian killing me before I get the chance to do anything else in my life," the wind mage took a step back.
    At the mention of draconian, the sky dragon princess glared daggers through her cousin, baring her teeth slightly, she growled.
    "Sorry! I didn't mean it like that! I meant it as someone who's descended from a dragon, and doesn't possess the capabilities of a full blooded dragon. I wasn't trying to refer to the curse placed on your father's side of the family," panicked Ardor.
    "Curse?" Iris took quick interest, wanting to know more and whether she could reverse it or learn to do so later in life.
Princess Rhea opened her mouth to speak, but the maroon-haired male raised his hand to stop her.
    "I've got this, I can tell you're worked up. Take a quick break," Han spoke reassuringly.
    The silver-haired woman nodded, giving a small smile to the general before she began taking steps back towards her snow white horse.
    "Try to be less careless about the words that come out of your mouth; it's quite obvious that it's your mouth that gets you into trouble." General Hawthorn scolded the blonde. "Now, to answer your little question; Rhea's family, specifically her father's side come from a Sky Faction splinter group. Four-thousand years ago, that very splinter group attacked Flaconia and overthrew the current Fire Dragon King. Doing so angered many people, but one individual in particular was infuriated; that individual happened to be the daughter of the Demon King. She and the Fire Dragon King were lovers, and when the King was killed, the daughter of the Demon King placed a curse upon the new Sky Dragon Royal family. The curse would limit the family to three dragon shifts for their entire lifetime, while permanently locking them in their human bodies. That curse is still in effect to this day and we still don't know anything about disabling the spell."
    "So, she's envious of anyone who can turn into a dragon," Iris questioned?
Han's facial expression drastically changed. Iris had caught him off guard, he didn't expect for the five-year old to not only understand everything he had said, then she came to her own conclusion. The general turned to the girl's father, still maintaining his look of surprise.
    "Illya's a good teacher, but she still asks a lot of questions despite being quite the little book worm," smiled Fletcher, ruffling his daughter's red hair as he spoke.
    "I see. Now on to another topic, I assume Ardor informed you of a conversation that would take place the next time I came to the village, correct?"
    "Yeah."
    "Good, we'll speak on this topic tonight, in the village. I want Iris to listen to this conversation, this affects her as well as you and your wife," explained Han.
    "Wait. If this affects Illya shouldn't you have said something before she took off?"
    "She was informed by the Ruler of Proteron: Queen Karena. What she asked Illya to do three months ago is what I'll be asking you. Should you assist me, we'll be leaving the Heim Clan Plateau and I'll be taking you and your daughter to the Burning City."
    "Wait. Wait. Is this a war starting between the Sky Faction and the Elementalists of Proteron?"
    "Are you and mommy going to fight each other," the little red-haired girl questioned worriedly?
    "Gods no! Our current rulers would turn tail and run back to their home country and probably die in the process. This situation is very rare and I'm afraid we've been dealt a shit hand, I'll elaborate further tonight. I don't have all of the details, the princess is here to fill in the gaps of what I know," Han informed the scarlet-haired male.
    "What do you mean rare," questioned Ardor?
    "Rare as in this only occurs every couple thousand years."
    Fletcher, Ardor, and Iris all took on looks of shock almost in disbelief that a reoccurring event took place every couple of centuries.
    "Don't be too shocked, there's a reason for it. That can wait. The princess and I must be going, we have an urgent meeting with Chief Ishtar," the general sighed.     "There's something we need to confirm with him... I had your hair tested by the way."
    "Oh, did any of the tests match up," the scarlet-haired mage asked?
    "Two of them did."
    "So, what's the news?" Fletcher smiled, slightly anxious about the new information.
    "I'll tell you the first test, the other relates to our other conversation," Han spoke.
    "Huh," Iris titled her head to the side, not fully understanding the situation?
    "You and I are related. We're brothers."
    Fletcher opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He had been shocked beyond reason; if they had been brothers, what separated them? Why had they grown up in two very different households? The fire mage couldn't seem to find an answer to the various thoughts that raced through his head.
    "How," Ardor butted in?
    "That's for tonight's explanation. We must be going, the princess and I have business to attend to." Han took his leave, taking a trip back to his horse, where Princess Rhea and her horse were waiting.
    Jumping up, both individuals mounted their horses before taking off at a speedy trough.
    "We'll see you tonight, Fletcher," the silver-haired woman smiled as she raced by.
    Within a minute, the two disappeared from sight, leaving Fletcher, Iris, and Ardor to themselves. The scarlet-haired mage, moved back over to the nearby fire pit, tossing a fire ball into the pile of wood, resuming his work almost like nothing had happened. Ardor turned towards his friend to speak, but Fletcher held his hand up in protest.
    "We'll talk about this later. I need some time to wrap my head around this whole thing... would you mind helping Iris get ready for her lessons with Petra?"
    "Sure. Let's get you something that won't catch fire when you use your magic," Ardor grinned.
    Iris giggled lightly in response.
    "Are you going to be okay," Iris questioned, pulling on her father's left sleeve?
    "I'll be alright. Go get your armor," Fletcher replied.
    Following her father's directions, the red-haired child ran to Ardor's side before the two walked off, disappearing from Fletcher's field of view. With the two gone, Fletcher scanned his surroundings momentarily making sure the two were gone. Once sure that his daughter and friend were gone, the fire mage lashed out angrily smashing his fist against a nearby tree, sending a loud crack throughout the air. The resulting impact caused the tree trunk to cave in on itself, splinters of wood flew in every direction; while the tree itself tipped, beginning to make its way towards the ground. Unsure of the damage that would be caused, the mage set his hands ablaze, the heat rising immensely as he threw his arms in from of him, palms extended sending two streams of flames towards the falling tree. Continuing his assault, the male threw more magic power into his flames, the surrounding area became even hotter as the two streams turned from bright orange to a nearly blinding blue. Shaking his hands slightly, as if shaking water from his hands, the flames dissipated showing that Fletcher had burned off his left sleeve as well while the tree had been vaporized and reduced to ashes. The male sighed, having taken into account that his decision had been stupid and immature. It was also likely that the light and heat had startled the people and animals nearby and caused them to flee.
    Returning to his cooking, the fanged male took several hours of time. Throughout this time, the mage sorted through his thoughts trying to find any plausible explanation behind his relation to Han, all the while keeping his eyes on the cooking deer and adding wood to the pit to keep the fire going. Fletcher however could not find any reason that sounded right to him. After the hours had passed, the scarlet-haired mage had finished roasting the stag, he killed the flames, only leaving a few cinders that flew throughout the air.
    As the male did so, it became very clear that it had gotten colder, now seeing his breath every time he exhaled. A normal person would have been wearing a heavy jacket, Fletcher on the other hand had no need for such things for an unknown reason.
    Throwing the cooked animal over his right shoulder, the mage took note of the dimly lit area, he set his left hand ablaze and held it up before heading back towards his rundown house. Looking to the sky, the stars now filled the open air, six moons visible throughout various places in the sky. After a short walk, the fanged male strode through the misshapen doorframe and into the house, finding a large metal box with locks on the front by the would be kitchen. Pulling the locks off, Fletcher flipped the lid open to reveal a cold mist that pour from the box. This compartment had been made by Fletcher, it was a sort of preservation box that the scarlet-haired mage would fill with ice and place food inside for extended storage time. Placing the roasted animal in the chest, Fletcher closed the compartment, and relocked it.
    Preparing for his trip to the clan village, the fanged-male took note of hearing movement outside, placing his left hand on the silver dagger strapped to his side and preceded cautiously. Now reaching the altered doorway of the front, the scarlet-haired male took a quick peak outside to find Robin standing in the cold breeze, her long black hair swaying lightly as wind rushed by. To keep warm, the woman had put on a large and furry heavy coat that moved ever so slightly when the wind blew. Walking out the front, the scarlet-haired male stopped momentarily, taking a deep breath, he spoke.
    "Why didn't you tell me that I'm not your brother," Fletcher blurted out?
    "What are you talking about," Robin responded quickly, having been startled by the fanged-male's appearance?
    "Ah, so we're playing that game," the mage scoffed.
    "Fletcher... when did you find out?"
    "Six years ago, that night Illya brought it up, bringing it to my knowledge, and later that night I found out she was pregnant."
    "Why didn't you say anything?!"
    "Why would I come running to you and your father, the people who lied to me my entire life? Fuck no! You don't even know who I actually am! Your parents found me in the middle of the woods," Fletcher shouted!
    "Father wanted to tell you, but mother wouldn't allow it; she said it would make you turn on us! Mother wouldn't let me tell you either, she did her best to erase any trace of your heritage so you wouldn't find out. She did the same to father, and when he found out after the magic wore off, he went mad," the raven-haired woman exclaimed!
    "Lying to me for twenty-one years is what turned me against you, had you or your parents told me when they were still alive, when I was a little kid, then this would not have happened! Your lucky we're even living under the same roof; you only live with us because I know how many men who would jump at the chance to rape you the moment I kicked you out!
    "And I thank you for that, but there's nothing I could do! I'm sorry, Fletcher," Robin cried!
    "You could have told me, or you could have at least stopped your mother from tampering with my memory every time I asked a damn question about why I looked different from you all!"
    "How do you know about that," Robin took a few steps back, having been startled by the question.
    "Memory magic leaves behind bits and fragments of the event, over time, if the spell is not redone after the effects begin to wear off, the memories return. You should have kept your mother's spells up if you didn't want me to find out," Fletcher replied angrily.
    "I never told you about my memory magic," the bless mage stated nervously.
    "That's right, but you practiced on me while I spent my time training. You practiced on me by trying to erase my most precious memories! Why would you do such a thing?!"
    Robin shifted uncomfortably, pulling her coat tight around her. Taking a few steps forward, the raven-haired mage now stood in front of Fletcher, locking eyes with him.
    "I'm in love with you, Fletcher. I just wanted you to look at me," she shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks.
    The fire mage, took a step back, a look of disbelief written all over his face, a slight amount of anger seemed to be mixed in.
    "Watching you all these years, how strong and independent you've become, the things you can do are extraordinary. Everyone I knew wanted you, I wanted to hide you away and keep you to myself! Then Illya stumbled into the village, the two of you were perfect for each other. At first, I thought I still had a chance, but weeks later she asked you to step onto that ship with her. You were gone for almost two years, and when you came back you two were happily married! Why'd you have to go?! You barely knew her, and when you came back I was already too late; why'd and marry the silver-haired beauty everyone wanted?!"
    "You know what I was going through! I needed something to drag me away from this place, then I was filled with so much anger and hate I just wanted to die so I wouldn't hurt anyone! That ship I climbed onto broadened my views and allowed me to be free of the grasp your bitch mother had on me! When I came back, she had gotten herself raped and killed for manipulating the wrong people. Those two years I spent with Illya were the best years of my life; she showed me things I couldn't even imagine existed! I never had the plan of falling in love with her, but I did. We were going to build a home on the coast of Proteron, but we came back because Han needed help! If we hadn't helped him, we would have never come back! Iris would have never had to grow up in this fucking dump, but here with the Sky Dragons, they royally fucked us all so we're stuck here! For now, I have to go out every day to keep us all alive, and Illya has to accept a possible life threatening mission from Queen Karena with the possibility of getting us set for life where we can live peacefully and raise Iris!"
    "It's a good thing you came back! Things with Chrome went sideways and I had to hide out with Bayar and Petra! They have their own children to take care of, let alone me! I was just getting in their way," Robin shouted angrily!
    "So, it's okay to live off of someone your family lied to and manipulated for years so you could get in their pants and get what you wanted?! What the hell is wrong with you," the fanged male gritted his teeth, rushing back into the rundown building.
    It wasn't long before Robin rushed after her so-called brother to find out what he was doing, learning very quickly that Fletcher was packing up, grabbing his own things as well as Iris's belongings.
    "What are you doing?!"
    "This is not where I'm going to raise my daughter! I don't need someone like you in her life; she needs to grow up in a place better than this hellhole. With some luck, and help from Illya's friends we'll be just fine in Proteron," Fletcher growled. Two large bags were now filled with clothes, sleeping bags, and Iris's favorite toys.
    "You can't leave me here! You know what would happen," Robin exclaimed!
    "That's on you to figure out! I used to see you as my sister, but now I just see someone who's pathetically grasping onto me like a lost puppy." Fletcher pushed past the raven-haired woman, the bags over his shoulder, he pulled a small mirror from a dresser. The mirror having a gold trimming around the edges. Knowing his intentions, Robin grabbed hold of his right arm.
    "Fletcher, please."
    The fanged-male growled angrily.
    "Let. Go."
    "Please, just talk to me," Robin gasped, quickly retracting her hand, in now appearing a bright red almost if she had grabbed a red hot piece of metal.
    "You should have talked to me when you knew I wasn't part of your family. Then things might have changed," the scarlet-haired male snarled.
    "Fletcher! I know I should have, but that doesn't change how I feel about you."
    "The way you feel about me doesn't change anything. I love Illya, and that's never going to change! Give up and find someone who will accept you, now shut your damn mouth, you're wasting your breath. Find someone who cares."
    Without another word, the fire mage strode out onto the wooded path, leaving his 'sister' to cry in the cold winter breeze. No longer wanting to be near his own home, the fanged male sprinted off, racing along the path leading to the village. Along the run, the mirror seemed to flash without it being in the moonlight. Fletcher knew what this was and quickly tapped the surface of the mirror.
    The fanged-male's reflection distorted and faded before a silver-haired woman's stunning face had shown itself. The woman's blood red orbs showed concern, her lips seemed to be forcing a smile.
    "Babe, is everything alright," The woman's voice passed through the mirror.
    Fletcher paused for a moment, his brow showing a slight look of surprise.
    "Let's just say, the cat is out of the bag," the fire mage smiled weakly.
    "You confronted Robin? How did that go?"
    "As well as you thought it would."
    "So, it went pretty damn awful, huh," The silver-haired beauty giggled slightly.
    Fletcher grinned, seeing that his lover was fine and doing well.
    "I felt this sense of unease, and I thought it might be that something happened with Iris, so I tried to contact you as soon as I could. The Queen's gifts come in handy."
    "Iris is just fine, she and Ardor left to continue her training with Petra a little while ago. Our daughter has made significant progress with her magic. She can't use both magic types together just yet, but she's learning; it won't be long before she figures it out," Fletcher spoke proudly.
    "So, what's the plan going forward? I know by the look on your face, that we won't be going back to that rundown house," said Illya.
    Fletcher stopped, thinking for a moment.
    "We'll stay in the village until we can conjure up enough money to build our house."
    "That's going to be a lot sooner than you think. Once I'm done here, we'll be set for life. We won't have to do anything ever again," the silver-haired woman shouted excitedly.
    "That's amazing, but I feel somewhat bad that you're the one working when I should be the one out there while you're here with Iris."
    "Don't worry about that. What matters is that we can raise our daughter in the perfect environment where we won't have to worry about the royal army breathing down our necks. Besides, I'm quite sure that Hawthorn will be bringing you into this disturbance; I'm certain we'll be seeing each other again soon," Illya explained.
    "Hmm, anything I should know beforehand," the fanged-male questioned?
    The woman's face shifted very quickly now showing a very serious expression.
    "Be careful. Don't trust anyone you meet from now on. Act like everyone is out to get you, and don't ever tell someone who you are."
    Fletcher opened his mouth to ask as to why his lover would say such things, but Illya's attention turned to something on her end momentarily before she turned back to her husband.
    "I'm sorry, honey. I've got to go. Tell Iris I love her."
    "I will. Go on, I don't want you getting in trouble on account of your strange husband," The scarlet-haired mage joked.
    "You're never going to let that one go, are you?"
    "Never," Fletcher smirked.
    "I love you," Illya blew a kiss.
    "I love you too."
    The mirror returned to its original state, now only showing Fletcher's reflection. Placing the mirror back in his bag, the scarlet-haired male continued on his way, seeking out the village.