*Unedited
Chapter Sixteen - Morning
I woke up to the sound of Jamie's shouting.
Metal banged together, followed by a loud and brash beat of her fists off the doors. The dregs of another nightmare still stucck hazily to my mind, making me slow and confused. Sleep-clouded eyes found trouble sourcing the door before it swung open- bringing with it a vicious flood of light.
"Jamie..." I whined, sinking my cheek down onto the pillow. "I am sleeping."
I knocked my blanket over my shoulders, a single leg curled up to my chest. Sleep clung to the edges of my vision, my muscles heavy and lazy. I rolled onto my back, feeling the press of hard-skin against the blanketed ground. I had slept well: Nethore had listened with rapt attention as I read to him, intrigued by the world being spun by words alone. We had to stop when my voice kept cracking and I slurred the words as sleep hunted me.
"Close my door." I whined.
She nudged my ribs with her toe. "Why are you sleeping on the ground?"
I merely grunted at her, rubbing the heel of my hands into my eyes. Jamie's eyes glowed in the dawn's light, her mouth thin. She sighed down at me. "I made waffles."
I peeked at her. "With chocolate?"
"This is breakfast, Neely."
"Then, I'm not getting up."
"Fine. I actually do have melted chocolate waiting for you."
"Thanks for that."
Jamie tutted something about me being a creep before leaving the room to go and assault Dem and Peter. Once I got myself up, I dressed quickly with thoughts of waffles and chocolate quickening the pull of jeans over my legs. Since becoming a Rider, such treats were reserved for Jamie's cooking. We weren't put on a diet but we were expected to keep good care of ourselves.
When I left my room, Peter was leaving his and was dressed in nothing but his jocks. He just blinked blearily at me but it was Dem, who staggered from the room with dark hair stuck up wildly and dried drool clinging to the corner of his mouth that made me smile.
"Food?"
"Do you need a hairbrush Dem?" I laughed.
He touched the stiff stalks of his bed hair, before glowering. "Peter! You said I looked fine!"
"You do." Peter grinned boldly at him. "You look really good."
Dem glanced down at himself; silken pyjamas clinging low to toned hips. Bare feet resting on thick carpet and then his sleep sunken face and mad bad hair, in a need of a cut. He looked so different from the polished Dem we knew, always so well kept.
He glowered up at his boyfriend. "I actually detest you."
I had to look away, my cheeks going red when Peter hauled him close with a grin. Jamie's nose was wrinkle before she motioned for me to follow her.
"The others are already downstairs- I didn't want to leave Gabriel alone with the Ithrall Riders for too long."
"If someone has murdered someone else, don't blame me." I pattered down the stairs, relishing in the smooth, varnished wood of the castle's many spiralling stairs.
"No – I wouldn't fight in front of those twins. They are fierce fighters." Jamie whistled. "I know you aren't training with us yet, but Odette hit me so hard that I puked. Me!"
"Fists of steel!" I whistled.
Jamie led me to the kitchens – apparently, the castle had two. One that prepared the Vampire's meals because even though they did enjoy the taste of food, it was usually infused with blood but when there were human guests, it put them at ease to know that their meals were being prepared somewhere else.
The 'blood-free' kitchens were large and bright, with sleek white marble counters stretching along the opposite wall, and then an island sitting in the centre of the room. The stainless-steel appliances were spotless and I was drawn to their shine like a magpie to anything that gleamed. The best thing was that the room smelled of chocolate and steaming waffles, but Jamie had also cut fruits and left them out for people to spoon onto their breakfast.
I'd ignore them – they'd ruin the flavour of the chocolate.
"Bonjour Neely" Collette said through a full mouth, raspberry juice staining the corner of her mouth. Odette sent her sister a quelling look, shoulders slumped tiredly.
"What am I?" Jamie grunted. "A stewed piece of cabbage? Good morning to you too Collette."
Collette smiled sheepishly at her as I slid up onto a stool with Gabriel opposite me and 'so didn't plan this', Zephyr on my right.
I collected my waffles, fingers curling possessively around the handle of the jug holding the chocolate sauce. Once I began pouring it over generously, the others staggered in and surprisingly, were followed by a slightly apprehensive Hale.
"Nice to see you found a hair-brush Dem." I grinned at him.
"Ráicleach" He muttered, quickly dodging the blueberry I threw at him.
"Don't curse at me in Irish. And I am not a slut." I hissed.
"Dem likes to show off how good he is at speaking every language." Peter heaped food onto his plate.
Denim eyes were glowering, before he sighed and steepled his fingers to give us all a very frank and serious look. "I think now that we've slept on it, it's time to talk about what happened last night."
"You're going to ruin waffle time," Peter sulked.
"Pete! This is serious conversations time."
"I am not a pirate." growled Peter. "Stop calling me that."
"There are names I could call you..."
"But they aren't appropriate for the kitchen." Peter finished. "Fine. Let's all talk about our feelings."
"You are such a child," Jamie snorted.
"Sorry?" He rounded on her. "You are the most unaffectionate person I know."
"You have like four friends, so that isn't saying much."
"Guys!" Dem raised his hands, trying to calm the approaching argument. Once Peter and Jamie got going, they could go for a very long time, snapping and baiting the other for pure amusement. "Serious conversation is happening in five, four, three, two...one."
No one spoke and everyone's attention flickered between Dem, Zephyr and I, waiting for us to begin.
"Well, now it's awkward." Zephyr grumbled.
"Fine, I'll begin." Dem sighed deeply, before turning to me. I secretly wanted to sink into a puddle of embarrassment at the sheer number of people in this room, but I understood why the Ithrall Riders had to be here. They were Zephyr's friends and more than likely, some anger would be turned on him and he had the right to be defended by those close to him.
"We knew Zephyr was an Innoch for only a couple of weeks before you returned. Gabriel had known before that, but never told us because he had been forbidden to by the Council of Valaxia because it might have alienated us against him."
"...Rightly so." Gabriel muttered.
Gold flecked eyes of nephrite swung to Gabriel, scowling intently. Dem cleared his throat, a knot forming between his eyes and continued.
"When we met up with up with you again, we just decided to give you some time to relax in Ithrall and get your bearings before one of us – I was picked, actually – would reveal to you that Zephyr was a dem...Innoch."
"But you weren't even afraid." Peter shrugged a broad shoulder. "Just angry that we didn't tell you."
I poked at my waffle with my fork, buying time before I had to reply. "I met one good demon...Innoch, sorry, and he saved my life."
"Who was he?" Dem asked quietly.
"I don't know." Guilt and shame clogged my throat. "I had just gotten out and I was weak and frightened but he told me what path to run. I only called him the butcher."
I could kind of see him in my mind but I didn't know if those memories were warped by terror, or agony but I did know that if he stood in front of me again, I would recognise him. No one was speaking, and they waited respectfully for me to finish, but I could see Dem hanging on to every word and trying to mask the concern on his face. Hale just picked at his waffles, his knuckles white and he looked just as young as the rest of us in that moment in his pyjamas though he was more than a century old.
"Zephyr reminded me of him." I shrugged a shoulder. "I think I would have sensed his evil nature if he had one."
Gabriel pursed his lips but wisely kept silent, tugging his hand through blond curls.
"You've never said much about how you escaped." Dem said quietly.
I caught Hale's quick look and the furrow that formed between his brows. There was something in Dem's eyes that I didn't like; a sad knowing that I couldn't figure out where he got it from. I smiled wryly – Dem would suspect something more had happened. Maybe the others would do but it was something they didn't need to trouble themselves with.
"Hale and I split up." I croaked out uncomfortably. "When we got out, we came to a loading cart. I climbed into that and Hale let off the lever before taking the path. I wouldn't have been able to keep up with him and I don't think I would have been able to live with myself if he got caught because I wasn't strong enough to keep going. The cart lowered into the butcher's work room and I was ready to fight, but he just let me go." And he's dead because of you.
I took another bite of my waffle, smoothing down the pile of napkins beside me. Again and again, brushing the pads of my fingers over the wrinkles with unnerving intensity. "Down the path of the hanging bones, with demons shrieking in the night. Hunting me. Mo Dhia."
Trying to paste a smile on my face, knowing that I was flashing chocolate stained teeth, I forced myself to continue. Maybe if I fed them this, it would stop them being so curious about everything else. Maybe they weren't asking the questions, but they were thinking them.
"I barely slept. Didn't eat. Then I came across Sentinel Caoimhe's house and cracked open a tin of peaches. She brought me to Ithrall and here I am. But it was the butcher who helped me get there. Innoch or not, he was a good person."
Zephyr cleared his throat, leaning in so I could feel the press of his arm slightly against mine. "Most tribes live in the remotest areas of Valaxia. I had never even seen a dragon before I met Elser, but Innochs are afraid of them, as they are of Riders. Most are born, live and die in their tribes and avoid other races for that entire time, but some tribes are more vicious. The Nauhtorn mountains are the worst."
"Have you ever had any experience with them?" I asked. I tried to imagine Amon and Zephyr in the same room; both were obviously Arc A demons....Innochs...but Zephyr was nothing like that piece of filth. Thankfully.
Zephyr glanced down at his hands, shaking his head. "No."
"And obviously your tribe didn't agree with you becoming a Rider." Gabriel said tightly.
Laughing bitterly, Zephyr eyed him darkly. "You've seen Elser."
"Did they do that to him?" I resisted the urge to touch his arm, keeping my voice quiet and soothing. He glanced down at me, guilt bowing down his shoulders.
"I found Elser's egg in the shell of an old nesting grounds and curiosity kept me from smashing it there and then. When he hatched, I knew what that meant for me but I also knew that I would do anything for the tiny lizard struggling to get out of his own egg. But my tribesmen were curious and I only managed to hide him for two weeks before they came for him."
Long fingers clenched tight, a tremble running through him. "These were my friends. Innochs that I loved, but I was something else to them now."
"What did you do?" Gabriel's voice was unusually soft, pity softening the corners of his mouth and keeping his gaze down.
"I had to end them to get away, so I did."
"You're telling us this...Why?" Jamie asked. "You killed them and you're just telling us."
Zephyr's jaw was tight. "I told you what I told the Council of Valaxia when they questioned me when I made it to Ithrall, wounds infected and Elser barely clinging on to life. They thought that I had stolen him; how could a demon become a Rider but they couldn't refuse my Rider's mark. I told them the choice I was given and I was told that nothing would be done. No one cares about murdered demon children."
I sunk my head into my hands, peeking out through spread fingers. Hale was the one to reply, his mouth curled down but his gaze honest and bright. "Don't let the guilt rot you. You have your dragon and your whole life ahead of us. You can make your peace, even if the Council refuses to turn an eye to it."
I couldn't speak. It felt like a hot wire was woven around my jaws, a jumble of shame and awe clashing inside of me. He was brave. I wouldn't say this to my friends so openly; I couldn't tell them of the people I killed, of the tortures I had endured but I felt like if I asked Zephyr, he would tell me openly. It had worked slightly on Gabriel. He was looking at the Innoch intently, but the venom had seeped away.
"I hope Gabriel doesn't turn out like his father."
"His father is an ass." Nethore sniffed sleepily.
"Language, Nethore." I warned.
"Is asal é a athair." Nethore repeated tauntingly, the cogs of his mind working fast and quick-cutting.
"Didn't I just warn you about your language Nethore. Repeating it in another language doesn't make it better."
"Gabriel might turn out like his father, or he mightn't. It's his choice in the end."
Breakfast continued and our conversation turned to lighter topics. Hale opened up slowly and tentatively, but once everyone 'forgot' that he was the long-lost Prince that many of us had learned about in history class, he was quicker to laugh and smile. I ate my fill of waffles, my hands resting on my delightfully swollen food-baby.
My attention flickered between our breakfast conversation and Nethore's constant stream of questions about books and why dragons couldn't have books and when was I going to fly with him and why did the gardens smell so strange.
It wasn't until I had scrubbed every plate clean in a deep sink of sudsy, hot water - which I was still convinced was one of the best things in the world - that I got a chance to talk to Zephyr alone. He wordlessly began to dry the dishes, and the others skipped out quickly at the chance to escape without cleaning while I spotted Hale ushering out a reluctant Dem.
Zephyr didn't even question why I made him swap tea-towels; it would have been hard to explain that I just didn't like the cloth of the one he had picked up. It looked too suspicious.
"You were very brave to say what you did." I told him quietly.
He hummed. "Brave, or reckless?"
"Brave." I said resolutely. "They would have killed you for being a Rider, so you fought."
He glanced towards me uncertainly. "They gave me a choice, but I couldn't take it."
I paused, meeting his gaze while my arms were partially submerged and hidden by bubbles. "A choice?"
"They were my friends and they didn't want to kill me, but they didn't understand. One of them gave me a rock and told me to crush Elser's skull and everything would be forgiven. I could come home and life would go on." He snorted.
"I knew I would have been given the choice. Most Innochs are, and most don't take it. I have seen Innochs become Riders before, after finding abandoned eggs in the wild and out of fear, they crush the skulls of their dragons under their boots when the hatchling is too small to withstand it, or they are lynched for refusing to do it and their bodies are cast out as traitors. Elser was lucky; they only managed to blind one eye."
"...That's terrible."
He gave me a heavy look. "Now I see how backwards we were, but most Innochs only grow up on stories of how Riders razed entire tribes to the ground, an entire city for no reason other than the fact that they were born different."
I could imagine Zephyr, surrounded by the people he loved and given an impossible choice. His dragon or his family; to decide on something so young would always haunt him. And yet, I tried to imagine choosing someone else over Nethore and my mind balked instantly, the bond trembling in protest.
Nethore always came first.
"I never felt anger like what came over me when my dragon was harmed." Zephyr sighed. "And every day when I see his face, I'm reminded that if I had left earlier, if I hadn't been afraid to run that my friends would still be alive, and Elser would have both his eyes."
"You still consider them to be your friends after what they would have done to you."
His eyes were glassy and he had stopped drying the plate in his hands. "They were young, stupid and afraid. The worst combination to be. If it had of been my friend who became the Rider, I would have given him the same choice. They didn't know any better – to them, I was cursed and killing Elser would have destroyed that curse. The life as an Innoch Rider, surrounded and being a part of the very people trained to kill your kind is no life at all to them."
It felt like my heart was knotted and even Nethore who was trying not to listen in, and failing so desperately, felt some ounce of remorse for him.
"And were they right. Is it no life at all for you?"
"To be living, technically, is to have a life, but I wouldn't change Elser for the world. I love him and he loves me – more than anyone ever will. Could you imagine your life without Nethore?"
The question, with my already knotting heart, made tears bud in my eyes. I couldn't. I would have been going to college now and it had been something I was looking forward to because it would get me away from my mother. It would have been anything to do with art or design which were my passions in life but thinking about that now just made it feel alien to me.
"I didn't mean to upset you, Neely." Zephyr peered down at me, his mouth crinkled down in guilt.
I waved a hand at him, shaking my head. "No. no. I'm not upset but after everything that's happened, I wouldn't trade it for normalcy if it meant living with Nethore."
"You love him." The guilt was seeping away to be replaced by a soft smile.
"I love him." I agreed. "More than I have loved anyone or anything."
"I love you too, human." Nethore hummed.
He was there on my head, curled up in the castle gardens, blatantly ignoring the gardeners trying to work around him. Turana was nestled in the shadow of Beau's bulk, the trio creating a little nest of scaled furnaces.
"Oh! Now I want to squeeze your cheeks Ne, but you don't have squishy cheeks."
"You do."
Zephyr and I continued on in silence, passing the occasional comment but I was content with the quiet as Nethore chattered away in the confines of my skull, and when Zephyr spoke, it was always in a soft and almost shy tone that I failed to connect to the lethal Rider I saw fighting in the arena.
In the end, I managed to say – "I'm glad you chose this life, Zephyr. You belong here."
And I was rewarded with a half-second, blinding smile. "Thank you, Neely."
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This was just a little calm chapter - updated when I was very tired. As in I want to go to bed embarrassingly early. I think its our bad weather - first damn Hurricane Ophelia and now Storm Brian ...
Who names a storm Brian?
But my sleep schedule is not important, nor is the Irish weather.
Tell me what you thought - suspicions, theories are all welcome here as long as you do not give away the plot to those who have not read it before. I'm only saying this because I know many of you have read the previous version, but some of us haven't and it isn't fair on them, or me
Anyways,
Until next time - Saoigreen