Seventeen

Standing silently in the doorway, Hevtos watched one of his sleeping sons curled around a memory of treasure. His large, scaled head resting against a golden statue of Zyulla. 

There were only two but he had allowed them to return to the land of the living again and again until he couldn’t bear to see them return to him so wounded. They were immortal, the children of two gods. Not even Atos could take that from them. But he had given mortals a way to drive them back to their father.

The last time, one of his sons had created a child with a human woman much the way Odos had done with his fledgelings, but the woman had been aware. It had not been expected that the child would look so much like his father. They had hoped he would go unnoticed.

“Divinity?” The shade of a dark-haired woman came to kneel in front of him. “You seldom visit.”

“Irotria. Odos sent two of his fledglings to my doorstep. The laughter of living children is something I have not heard in some time.” He gave the woman a faint smile, “It made me miss my sons.”

“And my son?” The woman looked hopeful.

“Is guarding the fledglings. He is taking them to visit Zyulla.”

The dragon stirred slightly at the mention of his mother’s name.

“Why must they be guarded?” Irotria tilted her head slightly.

“Imos wishes to steal them from his brother. My sons are not the only ones who covet.” 

The woman looked baffled and Hevtos shook his head, “The children of Odos are clever, beautiful, and the two his brother covets are like sunlight made mortal. These two are his exquisite songbirds. The one your son has claimed as his golden treasure is a… different kind of bird. She has become known as my Golden Rook and she is more feared in the land of the living than your son.” 

He smiled at the dubious look on her face. “Vezar’s name was purged from common memory after his rule, few who aren’t elves remember what he did. He performs his duties well but my Golden Rook has her father’s flamboyance. They notice her when she serves me and the tale carries.”

“Is she beautiful?” Irotria came to her feet as he gestured.

“She is. Her hair is golden and if you didn’t know her nature you would think her delicate. But the Rook has my brother’s temper and viciousness and Odos’ quickness and charm.”

“I would like to see her.” The dark-haired woman clasped her hands.

“She cannot come here.” At her baffled frown he added quietly, “She’s a thief.”

His son’s clawed hand gripped his bed of gold and his heavy lidded eye fluttered.

“Rest, Vezjahehdhethrah, I will allow no one to take from you.” Irotria moved to the dragon’s side and stroked it soothingly until he settled into a more peaceful slumber again.

“When she has finished her tasks I may have her bring me all that was taken from my sons.” Hevtos smiled as he considered it. “She is not content unless she has a purpose of her own.”

As he made his way back from the hidden chambers kept for his sons he felt the ripples of another, less pleasant, presence on his doorstep.