"Are you sure you're all right to keep going?" Phoenyx asked, eyeing Blaise from head to toe. "It's okay if you have to stop. It's barely been a week since you—"
"I'm fine," Blaise said curtly. He turned away from her to size up the obstacle course and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He hated that everyone kept fussing over him. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone.
I said I was sorry. How long are you going to stay angry?
"Just shut up," he demanded, grinding his teeth. As far as Zane was concerned, Blaise wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Zane was just an intruder taking a free ride in his body. The only reason Blaise even stayed in training was to keep himself occupied. That, and the fact that Theron would probably drag him back by the scruff of his neck if he tried to quit anyway.
"The hell ya waitin' for?" Theron asked, crossing his arms as he watched the group. "Zeke's already got ya beat!"
"What?" Blaise looked up to see Ezekiel standing up on the high wall, grinning from ear to ear. He had figured out how to manipulate his wind magic to enhance his power and speed, and used it as often as possible. "You're a real show-off, ya know that, Zeke?"
"Don't be jealous," he teased, gesturing for Blaise to follow. "Come on!"
"We got better things to be doin' than workin' this course all day," Theron said, tapping his foot impatiently. "The quicker ya get it through it, the faster we can be movin' on. Now, stop chit-chattin' and get yer asses up there!"
With the technique they'd perfected together, Phoenyx and Blaise scaled the walls using her platforms of ice. If either of them had trouble, Ezekiel would give them a boost with his wind.
Blaise hated to admit it, but he was glad to have them. Working the obstacle course kept his mind focused on himself and on them, and it helped him to block out Zane, preventing the Dragon Prince's thoughts and memories from getting in his way.
For the first time all day, all three of them managed to maneuver through the course without slipping up. They all landed on the grass in front of Theron, who was beaming with pride.
"It's about damn time! Another week o' that and I mighta lost my mind."
"You already lost your mind a long time ago," Kenric called out from the arena entrance, a large satchel slung over his shoulder. "Anything these guys do to you could on be an improvement."
"Ah, shut up, Ken. How ya feelin'?"
"Better," he said, and he looked better too. He'd been missing a lot of training over the past week—Theron explained that he hadn't slept well while Blaise was ill, and he was finally getting the rest he needed.
"What's in the bag?" Phoenyx asked, and Kenric laughed. She always got straight to the point of everything.
"Uniforms." He undid the snaps that held the bag closed, and handed each of the three recruits a new outfit. "Red for the men, blue for the women, or swap if you prefer. Congratulations. You three are officially a squad of the Occultus Draconem."
"Really?" Phoenyx clutched the uniform tightly against her chest, her eyes wide with excitement. "I can't believe it!"
Blaise ran his fingers across the Dragon that was embroidered into the front of the red shirt that Kenric had given him. A member of the Occultus Draconem? It was what he'd been working towards for so long...
And yet... it was suddenly all too real. Being a member of the Occultus Draconem meant more Enforcers, more fighting, more death... He held the uniform out to Kenric, who gave him a curious look.
Now is not the time to be having second thoughts about this.
"I can't accept this," Blaise said firmly.
"Why not?" Kenric glanced at the uniform in his hands, but didn't take it back from Blaise. "You completed your basic training. You've earned it."
"I don't want no part of it no more." Blaise kept his gaze fixed on the ground—he couldn't face Kenric or any of them. "After everything that's been happenin'... I just... I can't do this."
"Blaise, what are you talking about?" Phoenyx touched his shoulder, but he pulled away immediately. "What's wrong?"
Since Kenric wouldn't take back the uniform, Blaise dropped it on the ground at his feet, then rushed off, ignoring his friends as they called out to him.
No! You are not going to run away from this, Blaise Bressal. This may be your body, but it's my kingdom and my people at stake.
A throb of pain shot through Blaise's forehead, forcing him to stop before he could exit the training arena. He gasped as memories flashed through his mind of everything Zane had seen the Enforcers do. He was tormented with images of dead, bloodied bodies, lifeless eyes, a burning city... and his ears were filled with the sounds of pained screaming and the shrieks of Dragons.
"Stop it!" Blaise cried out, clutching his head in his hands. "Just leave me alone!"
As the images faded, he found himself face-down in the grass, and he could see the feet of his friends as they rushed to his aid. He closed his eyes, trying to fight back the burning tears that threatened to fall. Why didn't Zane understand what he was doing to him? Couldn't he see what he'd put him through?
I'm sorry, Blaise, but this is the way it has to be.
***
"Blaise?" Kenric called out, knocking on the door to the small house. "May I come in?"
"If I say no, you're just gonna come in anyways," Blaise said, rapping his fingers on his table.
Kenric let out a sigh as he entered, and he sat across from him at the table. Blaise wouldn't look at him, keeping his gaze locked on his task of tapping away anxiously at the old splintered wood.
He looked over Blaise with curiosity, eyeing each scar that covered his arms and bare torso. Anyone less polite would have asked what had caused so much damage, but Kenric knew better. He couldn't push the subject, or he'd run the risk of Blaise shutting him out entirely.
"Are you all right?"
"Don't matter much now, do it?" Blaise asked, shaking his head. "Just 'cause you can read minds don't mean you know nothin' 'bout how it feels."
"I'm not here to try to force you to talk about what happened last week, or even about what happened yesterday."
"Then what the hell do ya want?"
When Blaise finally looked Kenric in the eyes, there was so much pain and anger that Kenric was forced to look away. He couldn't handle the jumbled chaos of Blaise's mind. Everything was too loud and too painful and too difficult to sift through.
"I want to know why you trained so hard, month after month, but decided yesterday that you suddenly wanted no part in this anymore."
"I don't gotta explain myself to you."
"That's where you're wrong," Kenric stated, sitting up straighter in his seat. "By completing your training as a Draconem recruit, you've wasted not only your own time, but your squad's time, Theron's time, and mine. You, Phoenyx, and Ezekiel are the only ones who really stuck it out and made it through basic training, together. Theron and I trained you as such with the intention of making you your own three-man squad. Without you, Ezekiel and Phoenyx can no longer move forward."
"The hell ya talkin' 'bout?" Blaise sat up straighter too, rolling his shoulders. He'd gotten better at hiding his pain, but Kenric could see the subtle clues. "You and Theron ain't no three-man squad."
"We used to be."
"Oh..." Blaise lowered his gaze. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean—"
"He's not dead," Kenric interrupted. "At least, he wasn't when I last saw him. I wouldn't be surprised if he was, though."
"What happened to him?"
"What do you know about Draíocht, Blaise?"
"Nothin' really," he replied with a shrug. "Why?"
"There is a method," he explained, "that allows those of us with healing abilities to take that magic out of our bodies, and mix it into a liquefied form. That is Draíocht. Generally, it's used sparingly as a painkiller, and it helps to speed up the body's healing process, depending on the wound and the amount of Draíocht administered. Draíocht is strictly regulated, especially in Cadmus, so it's hard to come by. Some of the more powerful Draconians and Human mages here convert their own magic for us, so we can treat the sick and injured. Agni broke the alliance between Cadmus and Draconia, so he couldn't regulate it here, even if he wanted to."
"What's that gotta do with your squad?"
"I'm sure you understand by now that we use Draíocht only in very dire situations. If someone is given too much too often, they can become addicted.
"He got injured during a mission—he was thrown off a roof, and broke a lot of bones. He spent over a month in the infirmary, being pumped full of the stuff. By the time he was healed, his body had become dependent on Draíocht.
"We tried to work with him so he wouldn't need it anymore, and at first, he seemed to be doing very well with the weaning process. However, I later found out that he was actually paying others to provide him with healing magic, which was why he didn't need as much from us.
"I told him that he needed to stop and get help, and he wholeheartedly agreed. I can read minds, remember, and I know he was telling the truth back then. He knew he had a problem, and he knew he needed help.
"It only got worse from there, though. He had terrible mood swings, he wasn't eating, he stopped showing up to training... He had become this shell of the person he once was. He didn't care about anything anymore... only Draíocht. Then, we found out that he was stealing it from the infirmary.
"We got into a terrible argument about it, and I told him that he had two choices: get clean or get out."
"So, what'd he do?" Blaise asked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. He was intrigued by Kenric's story, and was curious to know more about Draíocht. He wasn't going to get addicted too, was he? Should he stop allowing Zane to ease his pain? "He didn't get clean, huh?"
"No, he didn't." Kenric shook his head in disdain. There was no anger in his voice... no sadness or guilt. Blaise wondered how much someone could be changed, to the point where he wasn't even sad about it anymore. "He continued to use Draíocht behind my back, just for the feeling it gave him, even without injuries to be healed. He became awful and cruel when was forced to go without it. We were soldiers of the Royal Guard back then—we're supposed to be the protectors of the people. We couldn't be negligent in our duties.
"There was one night in particular where we got into a full-out brawl over his addiction. I mean, it was bad. We were shouting, throwing things, striking each other... and poor Theron was caught in the middle of it all.
"We could tell just by looking at him that he had already taken a heavy dose of Draíocht, but I didn't realize just how much until he collapsed. He almost died that night.
"As concerned as I was for him, I just couldn't do it anymore. He was lying and stealing and shirking his duties as a soldier. His inability to function without it caused him to lose perspective, and three people died because of him.
"Once he had recovered from his overdose, I told him that enough was enough. He was furious... he called me a traitor, threw a chair at Theron, cursed us for turning our backs on him... He said he'd get even one day for destroying his life. All it did was prove just how little our friendship really meant to him at that point.
"I told him that he was free to stay in Draconia—he could kill himself with the damn Draíocht for all I cared at the time... but he was no longer a soldier of the Royal Guard. I had that authority at the time, you see. He was gone by the next morning, though, and I haven't seen him since."
"Man..." Blaise let out a heavy sigh. He couldn't imagine the emotional turmoil Kenric must have endured. Blaise was no stranger to physical pain, but emotional pain didn't have quite as much weight in his own life. He had experienced loss, of course, but not the way Kenric had. "Losin' someone that way... it sounds worse than dyin'."
"I'm not sorry," Kenric stated, his eyes cold and face stoic. "He's gone, and I'm better off without him. He made his choice, and I made mine."
Blaise didn't say anything—he didn't know what to say. It was strange to him to see someone act so cold about losing one of his closest friends. Blaise didn't think he could ever stay so calm... he still cried at night for everyone he'd lost, especially Daemon.
"Anyway..." Kenric's voice broke Blaise out of his thoughts. "Is there anything I can say or do that might make you reconsider joining the Occultus Draconem?"
"Sorry, man." Blaise shook his head, staring down at his hands. "I can't do it. I ain't fit for it, and I ain't gonna risk no more lives."
"You were so certain when you started... so ready to take on the task and fight... What changed?"
Blaise didn't give Kenric an answer. He could tell that Kenric was trying to formulate some sort of compromise, but Blaise wasn't going to budge. He had lost too much already, and no one was going to change his mind this time.
"Well, then..." Kenric sighed, leaning forward against the table. "Would you prefer to discuss what happened in the War Room last week? Or what happened in the arena today?"
"I ain't ready to be talkin' 'bout none of that yet."
***
"Blaise? Are you feeling any better?"
"Get outta here," Blaise said from where he lay, his back to his door. He could hear them enter his house anyway, but he wasn't in the mood to be around anyone, especially Phoenyx and Ezekiel.
Don't take it out on them. If you're angry, be angry with me.
"Come on, Blaise," Ezekiel said, and Blaise felt the pressure of him sitting at the foot of the bed. "We got promoted to a Draconem squad. It's what we've been training for all this time—you should be happy."
"Well, I ain't! Go away."
"Blaise, what's wrong?" Phoenyx asked. He tensed up as her cool hand touched his arm. "You can talk to us—we're your friends."
"I ain't got nothin' to talk about." He shrugged her hand away and pulled his blanket up over his shoulders. "I just wanna be alone."
"Don't be like that," Ezekiel said. "We've got a great plan. Well, it's Nixie's plan, actually."
"I don't want nothin' more to do with none of Nixie's plans. Look what it got me last time."
How long are you going to hold a grudge against me for that? I said I was sorry.
"Look, you hurt her feelings," Ezekiel said, getting up from the bed. "Just ignore him, Nixie. It's not your fault that he's got no self-control."
"Shut your mouth," Blaise demanded. He sat up, letting the blanket fall, and Ezekiel eyed the scar that ran down the middle of his chest. "You don't know nothin' 'bout what I been through."
"All I ever hear is excuse after excuse from you. You're not special just 'cause you've got the soul of the Dragon Prince inside you. Stop feeling sorry for yourself just 'cause some crazy doctors made you some half-Dragon monster."
"Zeke!" Phoenyx gasped, her eyes wide as she covered her mouth with her hands.
His words cut Blaise deep, and he flexed his fists, cracking his knuckles.
Calm down. He's only trying to get a rise out of you.
"Take that back!" Blaise shoved Ezekiel, who stumbled back.
"Why should I? It's true, isn't it? Do you think you're gonna get some kind of special treatment, just 'cause you're a freak? All you want is pity. Of all the people the Dragon Prince could have been stuck with, you—"
Ezekiel's taunting was cut off when Blaise's fist connected with his jaw. He fell back, toppling the table and a chair along with him.
Well, at least now I know there's still some fight in you.
Blaise stood over him, fists raised. The anger in him made his chest ache. He took a threatening step forward, but Phoenyx got in the middle, gripping him firmly by the wrists.
"Stop it," she said, glaring at him. It was a side of her that Blaise had never seen, and it gave him pause. She was usually so innocent-looking. "We're supposed to be a team, so you're both going to have to start getting along."
"I don't gotta do nothin', and we ain't no team!" Blaise yanked his arms free from her grasp and went back to sit on the edge of his bed, rubbing his aching chest. His heart was pounding, sending shooting pains through his body, and he doubled over, biting his lip. "Just get outta here!"
"What if we could help you?" Ezekiel asked.
"What the hell are you talkin' about?"
"We're members of the Occultus Draconem now," he told him, climbing to his feet while he rubbed his jaw. "That means we get to go into Cadmus. It means we get to fight. Maybe we can find someone to get the Dragon Prince out of you."
Not likely, unless you can find my body first. I'm sure Agni found it and moved it by now, and who knows where it could be?
"Come on, Blaise..." Phoenyx knelt down in front of him, placing his Draconem uniform in his lap. "Let's go get you your life back."
***
"Absolutely not."
"What? Why not?"
Theron nearly fell out of his chair, laughing hysterically while Kenric stared the group down with his deep green eyes. He crossed his arms and put his feet up on the table in front of him.
"First of all," Kenric said, "just because you're an official squad now, that doesn't mean you're ready for Cadmus. Secondly, the Draconem aren't going into Cadmus tonight anyway—we have other matters to attend to. You three are to stay within the city walls, and that's an order."
"I can't believe y'all came here, expectin' us to just let ya go into Cadmus, jus' like that!" Theron was still laughing, trying to catch his breath.
"Why not?" Phoenyx asked, staring Kenric down. If she was trying to intimidate him, it wasn't working—she just looked like a petulant child. "We're perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves."
"I'll let you handle this one," Kenric said to Theron before he got up to fetch his cloak where it hung by the door. He was gone before anyone could protest, and Theron finally managed to stop laughing.
"Look here," he told them, clearing his throat. He still had an amused grin on his face. "Y'all are the only recruits that ain't quit in a long time. Ya got talent, power, and the drive to make a great squad. That's why we trained ya ourselves. But Ken's right—there's lots more trainin' to do before any o' you are ready to be facin' no Enforcers."
"How can you say that?" Ezekiel asked. "We've trained longer and harder than anyone else! You told us we only needed six months. We can fight!"
"Are ya deaf, kid? I just said, you ain't ready."
"But—"
Before Ezekiel could finish his sentence, Theron was on his feet. He spun Ezekiel around and grabbed him from behind, twisting his arm painfully behind his back.
Ezekiel's eyes widened with fear when he felt the cool edge of knife against his throat. He tried to pull his arm free, but Theron only twisted it harder.
Phoenyx and Blaise both stepped back simultaneously—it had all happened so fast, they'd barely seen Theron move.
"Now, you best be listenin' to me," Theron hissed in Ezekiel's ear. "You ain't even fit to fight me while I been drinkin', never mind no Enforcers. They ain't gonna show ya no mercy, and they ain't gonna think nothin' of bleedin' you out like a pig at the slaughterhouse. You and your squad ain't going to Cadmus, and that's that. Got it?"
Ezekiel's breathing was quick and raspy, his eyes wide. He nodded just enough to avoid cutting himself on Theron's blade.
"Good." He shoved Ezekiel away from him, then sat back down, gulping down a glass of Draconian Ale.
"How'd you do that?" Ezekiel rubbed his throat where Theron's knife had been. "I barely even saw you move... I can't even move that fast, and I've got wind on my side."
"Kid, you ain't trained long enough for that little trick o' yours to do nothin'."
Ezekiel opened his mouth to speak, but then stormed out instead. Phoenyx and Blaise followed him, having seen enough to convince them not to try to argue with Theron.
Good decision.
When they returned to Blaise's home, Ezekiel kicked over a chair and let out a cry of rage.
"Hey, man," Blaise said, picking it back up, "don't be messing up my stuff."
"This is ridiculous! Why do we have to listen to them anyway? We're adults—we can do whatever the hell we want! They can't force us to stay in Draconia!"
"What's your problem?" Blaise sat on the edge of his bed, watching Ezekiel pace back and forth like a caged animal. "Why you gotta get into Cadmus so bad? You seen what Theron just did... we ain't gonna let ten seconds out there."
"Don't you want your life back? Don't you want to go home? I do! They killed my father, and I want them to pay!"
Ezekiel stopped pacing, and he let out a heavy sigh before slumping down into a chair. His shoulders sagged in defeat, all of the rage gone from him.
"I'm sorry about your dad, Zeke," Phoenyx said quietly, "but going into Cadmus won't bring him back."
"Don't you think I know that?" he snapped, shooting a glare in her direction. His hands were shaking as he rested them on the table. "When the Cleansing first started, my father and I were out on the border between Cadmus and Draconia. We had a farm out there, and he took me fishing every summer. But then the Enforcers came.
"He tried to protect me, but they Cleansed him, making me watch the entire thing. When they were done with him, one of them grabbed by the hair and said, 'It's your turn, you little beast,' and he shoved my head down into the lake. Every time I thought I was gonna drown, he pulled me back up, letting me breathe for a second before pushing me back under. He laughed the whole time.
"I don't remember what happened after that. I woke up here, in the castle infirmary."
"That's terrible, Zeke." Phoenyx knelt down in front of him, placing her hand on his knee.
It's disgusting what Agni and the Enforcers have done to my people. No one should have to endure that.
"Ya know what?" Blaise got up and took his Draconem mask from where his uniform was stacked neatly. Phoenyx and Ezekiel watched him tie it around his head. "If everyone else can come and go from Draconia, why can't we?"
"Are you serious?" Ezekiel asked, his eyes bright with excitement. "What about Kenric and Theron?"
"Blaise, you saw what Theron did." Phoenyx sighed, tying her hair up out of her face. "We wouldn't survive against the Enforcers on our own."
She's right. Have you completely lost your mind?
Blaise could feel Zane trying to take control. He was trying to stop him from going to Cadmus. But Blaise was determined. He gritted his teeth through the pain, willing Zane's presence away. It was his body, not Zane's. The Dragon Prince was the one who needed him, not the other way around.
"We ain't on our own," he said. "We're a team."
***
"Zeke, where the hell are we goin'?" Blaise asked, struggling to keep up with the others. "Do you even know?"
Jumping from rooftop to rooftop was hard work, and Blaise's pounding heart sent shooting pains through his chest. He kept it to himself, though—he didn't want them to think he was weak.
Being hurt doesn't make you weak, especially after everything you've been through. And just because you refuse to listen to me about going into Cadmus doesn't mean that I won't help you.
Blaise's heart fluttered, forcing him to stop for a moment. The sensation of healing magic being pumped through his veins was something he didn't think he'd ever get used to. He was grateful for it, of course, but being in a constant state of pain make it difficult to think clearly. Maybe things would be better if he just—
Don't think like that. Your friends would be devastated if anything happened to you. Just let me help.
He gasped as Zane forced more healing magic into his body, and he had to sit down for a moment. The numbing sensation was a wave of relief, but he didn't feel in control, and that terrified him. He leaned back against an old brick chimney and closed his eyes, taking slow, deep breaths.
"Blaise, are you all right?"
"You shouldn't wear that perfume, ya know," Blaise said. He could smell Phoenyx's vanilla scent before she landed beside him on the roof with a soft thud. "Anyone catches whiff of it, and you're gonna lead 'em straight to Draconia."
"You didn't answer her question," Ezekiel said, perching himself on top of the chimney. "What's the matter?"
"Maybe this ain't such a good idea after all..."
I told you not to go. Why do you always have to go searching for trouble?
"We can go back if you're not feeling well," Phoenyx said. She placed her hand on his knee, but he quickly brushed her off. "What's wrong with you?"
Blaise had no answer for them. He felt he was just dragging them down. Why should they even care about how he was feeling? He was a nobody—the Dragon Prince was the important one.
That's not true, Blaise. You should know that by now.
"Just stop," Blaise demanded, rubbing his aching chest. "Don't start actin' like you give a damn 'bout me. I'm nothin'."
"Blaise, why would you say something like that?" Phoenyx sat beside him, leaning against his arm, and she entwined her fingers with his. His whole body tensed at her touch, and he inhaled a sharp breath through his nose. "Why are you so determined to push us away? We're your friends."
"I don't gotta explain nothin' to you. I don't need none of your pity, fussin' over me just 'cause of what I got inside me."
"We don't care about that. We care about you. We just want you to be okay, Blaise."
"I ain't never gonna be okay. Not 'til I'm dead."
"Hey, man..." Ezekiel climbed down from the chimney and sat on the other side of Blaise, putting his hand on his shoulder.
Blaise couldn't stop his body from tensing painfully against the physical contact. He despised being touched, and he hated that he'd been made to feel that way because of what the surgeons in Cadmus had done to him. He wondered if he would ever feel okay again... Probably not, though.
"Don't talk like that," Ezekiel told him. "Look, I didn't mean what I said earlier. You're worth a hell of a lot more than what you give yourself credit for. The Dragon Prince... he's just living inside you—you're not defined by him. You're your own person."
He's right, you know.
Before Blaise could respond, a booming voice made them all jump.
"What do you three think you're doing?"