Wyvern's Flight Chapter 1

Chapter 1
Captivity
    The blood rushed over my tongue, smooth, welcome. I closed my eyes as the rush of power left my body trembling, Sights filled with visions of what was and what shall be. I feel the familiar ache in my bones to crunch and shape �" to take new form. They ache to burst forth great scaled wings of red and black, to unfurl them and send forth gusts of power. My transformation is nearly complete once more. I am almost ready to again take this blessed form. My eyes flash pure onyx with slits of emerald, harder…colder than stone or ice. My sealed form grows spikes and talons within this vision, fangs of pure shining white sprout forth to nick my lip. All this creature is is power and all it wants is freedom. So it, I, take flight; pushing, straining with every ounce of strength to fly far enough, fast enough to escape time.
    …All of this in the span of but a few seconds…all of this with but a few drops of blood… Blood…whose blood? Where am I? What am I? Who am I?
I opened my eyes to darkness, to cold and dank, the wetness seeping into my clothes and settling onto my cool skin like dew. From above I could hear nothing; the only sounds were made by me and the cold ringing that seems present in even the quietest of all silences. Without expectation my vision shifted and became clear. Like a Med-Evil dungeon the room I found myself within was small and stone, there was no sign of where the dankness had come from. I lay upon a moldy mat of straw which clung to my body in a most uncomfortable way. “Blood” I thought, “Where is the blood?” I searched for that source of blood. I searched my body �" the whole room, but there was nothing. Nothing but a knowing hunger in my gut and the cloying taste of the blood that clung to my tongue. I felt weak, like there was something draining me and it hurt to move �" it hurt to think.
    A small door on the opposite side of the room opened to reveal a man. He set a tray on the floor. “Who are you?” My voice croaked but still held remnants of music, like a fading note in the air. He raised an eyebrow and said, “Oh, you’ve finally decided to speak have you? Well, eat up. Perhaps the Master will be more willing to feed you now. He doesn’t seem to realize you can die of starvation.” The food he had brought on the tray was already half way down my throat by the time he left, it was a fare of bread and water that were barely fit…no ... not even fit for consumption. As I went to drink from the pitcher I traced a faint smell wafting from the water, poison, as thirsty as I was I dumped the water, resisting the urge to drink it anyway. So this is why I feel as though death were at my heels. He is �" I thought as I retched into a chamber pot. Yes, this is my prison, I was sure of that now. Why I was here, I had no idea. I crawled over to my makeshift bed and slept. It may have been days or only hours but the time ticked away slowly as my mind wandered.
    Soaring; icy clouds shredding my wings as I strain to escape the pain of time. I screech, a confused sound of both bird and dragon combined. This fury inside rips at my heart, sharper than the blustering winds. This discouragement pulls me apart. Freedom! Where is this freedom I search for?
    My eyes flashing open, the vision still pulled at my mind. Causing me to fly forward and attack the presence near me. It jumped back slamming into the wall, that spilt second reminding me of reality. He looked at me oddly, focusing on my mouth. I reached for it, stopping when I felt a prick upon my finger. My finger bled but when I went to examine my face again there was nothing there. It was as if a fang had come and gone like the phantom pain of a lost limb. “The Master would like to see you.” I moved back from his hand when he tried to grab me,“If the Master desires to speak with me than why is he not here himself?” The man ignored my question and all but forced me up the stairs. Each one seemed to crumble increasingly as we neared the top.
    The light momentarily blinded me as the door was flung open to reveal a grand house. So large and expensive it seemed like a French chateau in it’s glory days. Several twists, turns, and stairs later I found myself shoved into a bathroom of spotless black tile. Rudely, a garment was tossed to me and I was told to wash and wear the dress, then emerge from the room. The bath was already running and I had my choice of salts, bubbles and soaps in every scent it seemed possible to make. I looked down at my own body for the first time. The clothing I wore was an outfit of torn black clothing. My skin was so brown with dirt I could not make out it’s actual color. Long black hair fell to my waist, knotted and snarled horribly. I peeled off the garments, discarding them carelessly on the floor and stepped into the steaming tub. Scrubbing, the dirt came from my skin, exposing near pure white beneath the filth. Conditioner pulled my hair free of most snarls and encased me in silk. Stepping from the now filthy water I watched the water drain. Mesmerized by the swirling water as it spiraled and disappeared down the drain. For some reason this saddened me, reminded me of my captivity, and it burned like a physical slap to the face. I brushed out my long stygian hair and braided it, but soon released it as it felt odd not to have something covering my back. My hair seemed almost like a substitute weight for wings. I dressed in the luxurious gown that had been thrown to me. It was black and what seemed a modern Victorian style with cascading lace of neon green. I stood before the mirror now, curious to see my face. Before there stood a small fragile figure, this weak little being. “This cannot be me” I thought, “This cannot be the same as the creature inside, this form is so tiny. It could never hold such power as I feel even now as my strength is drained from me.” But moving closer I caught something in my purple-grey eyes, something lurking. It was evident in my eyes and movements that something was contained within this form �" So very evident in my eyes. “Hurry Up! The Master is waiting!” came the yell from behind the door. I turned and exited, nearly throwing the man down as I forcefully shoved the door open. “I am ready.” He blinked several times before stepping into action. So swiftly he moved down the hallways that I could take almost no stand of my surroundings.
    “Araminta, my dear!” A man stood before a large fire, advancing towards me with open arms, a glass of red wine in his hand. I struggled as he embraced me, his skin burning mine on contact. He released me and smiled, “Oh, come now Araminta, You cannot be so upset with this old friend?” I knew not whether he truly was a friend but from the circumstances I could pretty damn well figure he wasn’t.“It may start with the fact that she was poisoned.” I said sourly. He chuckled and said matter of factly,
“My dear, you know as well as I that the poison protects you from that monster.” Despite my urge to bite back I held my anger in. “Perhaps, but still that does not explain the act of starvation with which you seem to be practicing upon me.” He seemed thoughtful for a moment before motioning the servant over and whispering in his ear. Nodding the servant went and flung open a wall partition to reveal a grand table, nearly bending under the weight of the food it supported. “There now, eat your fill.” I moved robotically to the table, eating whatever I could reach. It sickened my stomach, but I knew not when I would again be offered such sustenance as this. I ate and I ate and I ate, and he just watched with an amused expression. It was then that I saw it, A piece of cake piled high with frosting and chocolate. I was reaching for it when a hand snatched it from my reach, “Now, Now Araminta, You mustn’t make yourself sick.” My stomach churned a bit, the food sitting heavily inside of it. “What is it that you want from me?” “I want what everyone wants, Power. ...And Araminta, My dear Araminta,” I turned away from him, trying to avoid him as he brushed my cheek with his knuckles and leaned in close, “You shall bring me that power.” “Never.” I spat. Despite his obvious anger he chuckled,
“The Wyvern shall be mine in time…you know it and I know it, and yes, even the Dragians know it they just refuse to admit it.” I glared at him with disgust, wondering just who the hell he was and just who the Dragians were. “I have had a suite prepared for you, you shall have free roam of the house. Unfortunately due to the circumstances I am afraid I cannot allow you outside. You have been placed under a containment spell as you know, this is just a reminder; one step out that door and you shall be in extreme agony.” I watched his movement as he rang for a servant. He was the same as before. “Darien, escort the lady to her rooms and make sure she’s comfortable, she won’t be coming out until tomorrow.” Again you rose before Darien could touch you and followed his lead down the many hallways.
    Beautiful as it was with its walls of red and black, like a translucent stone and the fixtures of ivory so like talons, I was not pleased. I was not at all happy to be held captive. To be so weak as to not be able to free myself from this hellish place. A lock clicked and I turned around to see Darien. He was tall and not unattractive, but the sinister smile on his face made me rush for a weapon, the letter opener that lay on the desk. “Leave me alone.” He advanced towards me, grabbing the letter opener and throwing me to the bed, “No!” I screamed, it came out like a siren’s wail. He tried to force himself on top of me as I struggled against him, “No!” A strange feeling filled my spine like it was trying to morph and elongate, my voice became a roar, “No!” With unimaginable force I pushed him from me, it was as if the thing within me tore with its ripping talons to shred its way up through my body. I forced him from the room. The door clicked locked and I collapsed to the bed, exhausted. I slept in a fitful dream that night between the cool sheets.
    The transformation was painful this time. Bones crunched and skin stretched slowly, the armor of scales rippled its way up like a suit of water. Only this time, I had my mind. I was conscious of my body and surroundings, of each heavy beat of my wings and the darkness around me. This world was black. Fires of silver and emerald lit my way into an illuminated chamber of unnatural purple marble. As I entered unseen doors sealed and left me in a small box. A dark box, a cold box and I was all alone. I ranted and raged, I threw myself upon the walls and scraped my sharp talons upon them until I had no more strength, but is was too late. I was trapped.
    I awoke frightened. I scrambled from beneath the blankets of my cold bed, and clawed open the canopy curtains I did not recall pulling. The room was bright with sunlight. I shied away from it as it burned my sensitive skin. The red glow of the walls dimmed when I had drawn the shade and my vision cleared. I searched around the room. Everything that had been upset last night was back in its place, even the letter opener from the desk. “Last Night” the whisper came out my lips, a panic overtaking me. I frantically searched myself for any sign of what had happened. I surely should have had bruises and yet there was not a mark upon me. Checking the lock on the door I found myself freed, although I was afraid to venture from the room just yet. I opened the other two doors. They contained an empty closet and the bathroom of which I had used the previous night. Everything was stocked as if the person knew not what brand, color, or scent to buy. Perfumes and make-ups covered the counter and the floor around the tub. In a small chest by my bed I found more garments, all in the same color scheme; black, purple, silver or neon green. My favorite colors, I think. I was disgusted  to look at what the Master gave me. I ignored the obviously expensive clothes and donned the now clean garments I had worn before my bath. I could not fathom why anyone would bother to clean the ragged garments when there were so many beautifully made gowns, but I was content all the same.
    Dare I venture down to the kitchens? I asked myself as my stomach clenched. Yes. I cautiously opened the door; I was in a two-door hallway, one being my room and the other the bathroom. The plush carpet was soft and warm on my bare feet as I ventured further. Everything was expensive and plentiful, Grecian, Roman, Victorian, French �" all the styles seemed to meld together to create this one mansion. When I reached large double doors I decided to open them, they were magnificent wooden doors, and heavy enough that my weakened form had difficulty opening them. Stepping inside I found myself to be in an enormous library, Floors and floors of books surrounded me in a circle. A desk sat off to the side, covered in mounds of papers, a few books and drawings. It looked so out of place in this well kept, orderly house that it attracted me. Sitting down I began to read some of the papers. They were little tid-bits on mythological creatures, pictures of some and descriptions on others. It was rather meaningless until I found a page torn from a diary, the handwriting hasty and uneven.
- 8: 12 January 08 -
 “Little Information is to be found on the Wyvern and Araminta is getting restless. I do not believe the others yet know who she is, but I am sure they shall find out soon.

- 10:20am January 12 -”
“Found this in Araminta’s cell, a mark that the Wyvern may be released soon, I shall need to harness her power by then.

- 4:32pm January 15 - Attached to it was a dirty piece of paper, the pencil lead upon it was smudged and hard to read, especially in the calligraphied script with which it was written.
Trying so hard not to die,
I just want to let loose my wings and fly,
To fly so high I escape time.
Flying so fast I lose my mind,
My wings are slowly shredding on icy clouds,
And beneath the blood crystallizes
Making my shroud.
Flying so high, I’m trying so hard,
So hard not to die.
Harder and harder it is to breathe
And still I cannot seem to see
The end.
Is it coming closer?
Am I coming near?
All I really wish is to be away from here.
For so long have I tried
With my wings straining with all my strength,
To outrace time, to make you mine
To find freedom.
It feels like eternity I have tried,
Tried so hard I’m dead inside.
Fighting my way up to the top,
Never resting, not allowed to stop
Or I’d fall.
No one seems to care at all
That I try so hard not to die.
And every time I near the final stretch of sky
They pull me down.
Spiraling down to the ground,
My wings crippled and torn,
Still this burden bourn
Is attached in the form of time.
I wrote that, I remember writing that… I dropped the papers and backed away. Harness the power? How? Why? What for? I ran from the Library and somehow found myself before the front door. I ran towards it �" flung it open �" and drew back from the light. I saw a door to my left and I threw it open to reveal a coat closet. Pulling out a heavy overcoat and a hat I went again towards the front door. Cautiously, I stepped out the door, but almost immediately fell back into the house as a pain like a million paper cuts sliced into my skin. No, I wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. I dropped the garments I had taken carelessly on the floor as I sullenly dragged my tired form back to my bedroom. I got lost many times. A few hours passed as I just sat there, staring at a wall, not thinking about anything. My stomach clenched every so often but the thought of food nearly made me sick. My days there were passed in my room, staring at the wall, not a trace of another being present in the building, even if everything was spotless in the morning. I became weaker and weaker. I could barely walk into the bathroom without becoming dizzy and falling. When the solitude became unbearable I dared to venture out into the house once more. Somehow I managed to make my way into the kitchen, finding it well stocked but unused. Shoving food down my throat I tried not to hurl, but did not succeed. Angry at myself and my lack of discipline, I dragged myself towards the stairs, but made it only half-way before I was too tired to finish climbing the last flight. I lay there on the stairs like a statue late into the night. I heard doors opening and closing and voices, the first voices I’d heard in days. The tall form of the Master came towards me, “Araminta, you should get to bed now.” He leaned down to touch me and I flinched. The movement caused the ache in my bones to stab and I moaned. “Oh Araminta, here let me help.” He picked me up, his skin burning me and carried me to my room. And then…and then the horror began. I had no choice, no power…and I hurt. He left me there, broken and sobbing, alone.
    “Araminta! Wake! Now!” Burning hands pulled at me as sounds echoed through the halls, it sounded as if a great battle were being fought. I lashed out like an animal and dragged myself out of the room and as far as I could away from the Master, but as I neared the stairs I wobbled, falling all the way down to the first floor. I lay groaning in pain as the Master dragged me with him down into a secret room. The sounds of battle continued overhead as I drifted in and out of consciousness. All I remember is the face of the Master, with his leering sneer and his voice like fire, “If I can’t have the Wyvern’s power I’ll make it so they never can!” And he forced himself on me again, but, I was numb inside. He had already ruined me. The clashing noises above went on for hours, or at least I think it was hours. After some time the Master cautiously opened the hidden door, and left me with the door slightly ajar. With my aching body and my mind set on survival I inched to the door, making it only far enough to lay half within and half without the doorway. Some figures approached, but my dark and blurred vision would not allow me sight. I was too weak to fight and the quickening of my heart within my chest caused me to faint.
    Silenced, laying on the ground as a doll, broken, and torn. My wings crippled and useless �" nearly torn from my body. They pulled me so down and now for my sympathy I pay the price. All have left me alone to die, all have left me here alone. I’m lying here…Alone.


Beep-Beep-Beep-Whoosh! My eyelids fluttered and opened. My vision was still blurry, but I could make out my surroundings. The bed beneath me was soft. A ventilator breathed for me, the air pushed and pulled from my lungs. The room was white with gleaming medical instruments and smelled like bleach. It was like a hospital and yet not, there was some sense that told me that I was still a prisoner. I wept. One prison exchanged for another. Still captive and still alone.
    The restraints that held my hands were weak, mere Velcro. I easily struggled from them and grasped at my throat. I pulled the tape from around my mouth and carefully extracted the tube. The first breaths were like swallowing gravel raw, harsh, and painful. I struggled from the bed, landing with a thump on the floor. I pulled myself up on a nearby table, acquiring a scalpel as I did so. Getting myself over to the door was a challenge. A challenge I overcame. I found myself in another house of riches though this one was much smaller it seemed and much less gauche. I spotted the front door and went for it. Leaning on the doorknob I nearly had it open when a man came at me. I scrambled away, brandishing the scalpel. “Easy now! You’re with friends!” He advanced towards me and I lashed out, cutting his arm. But now he stood in front of the door and he again came towards me. Barely thinking I near flew into another room, struggling not to fall. I slammed the door and locked it. Crawling on my hands and knees I found myself in a bedroom. I climbed upon the bed and held the scalpel close, terrified. Soon weariness confronted me and I could no longer stay awake.
    I awoke to voices outside the door. “Do you have the key?”“Why?” the voice sounded younger and yet more commanding like a leader. “Our patient locked herself up in your room and I doubted that you wanted to pay for a new door.” A sigh sounded with a small murmur and the lock clicked open. I tried to find the scalpel but was to weak to reach it down on the floor where it had fallen in my sleep. Two figures entered the room in my blurry vision and the newer one approached. “Beware, she’s got a temper that one,” said the bigger man that I had encountered earlier that day. I could barely protest as the new man approached me and when he lifted my form his skin did not burn me, his scent seemed to calm my nerves and allowed me to relax. Too weak to even wrap my arms about his neck as he carried me and the pain from his hands even lightly touching my bruised skin made me woozy. He set me down upon the bed where I had awakened and began, with a doctor’s care, to examine me. “You’ll be fine, you just need rest Mina.” I could not express my confusion as I dozed off again.
    Burning. Burning hands touched me, I flailed, trying to force these hands of fire from me. “Stop.” The fiery hands restrained me. It was the man I had first encountered. “Don’t touch me!’ I struggled some more and he held tighter, hurting me. I screamed, the door crashed open and the other man came forward. Without a sound he flung the man across the room, “Get off her.” His movements were smooth and silent, graceful like a cat. That same calming scent filled my nostrils. “Did Gabriel harm you?” I shook my head, “Good, How are you feeling?” He lifted the shirt I had found myself wearing to look at my stomach. There were red-purple bruises and a line of stitches the incision was already healed. “She heals fast.” The man, Gabriel, was looking over the shoulder of my examiner. I began to squirm under the burning, uncomfortable gaze of Gabriel. “Leave.”
“Yes Sir.” I knew I should be scared of this man, but I was not. The gentleness with which he treated me was unknown. He finished examining my stomach and covered it up again, He pulled out a thermometer but before giving it to me he asked me again, “How are you feeling?” I caught his eyes for the first time; they were twin pools of silver, liquid like Mercury. They hid and told so much pain and emotion through them at the same time that I was lost within them and could only stutter, “f…f…fine.” As I waited with the thermometer in my mouth I watched his movements about the room. He wasn’t a very tall man, actually he was very average in height. His hair was blacker than black, almost stygian. What struck me as odd were the snakebites, the two silver studs in his bottom lip that didn’t fit with his manner. He seemed rather…young, or at least somewhat like that, he seemed to be a mixture of immaturity and responsibility. It was as if he had tried to change with time, but had not managed to quite grasp the whole concept. Beep! He took the thermometer, “Ninety-eight point six” he stated, “Perfectly normal.” he leaned forward and felt my forehead, “But not for you Mina.”
“Do, Do I know you?” I asked, still very cautious. He gave me an odd look. “Mina, what is my name?” He sat in the chair beside my bed. “I don’t know.”
“Let’s try an easier question, what is your name?”
“Araminta.”
“Araminta what?”
“Araminta…Araminta…” I couldn’t tell him something I didn’t know, I was frightened, what if he decided to beat me? What if he was like the master? What if…
“Mina, why don’t you tell me what you do remember.” I shrank away from him, curling up towards the corner. He reached out and stroked my hair, “It’s alright Araminta, I’m a friend.” I don’t know how it came out but it all did, “I remember blood, and tears…and hunger…” It spilled and spilled until there was no more, like a river that ran too quickly and dried up. He comforted me, holding me to him and making meaningless but soothing noises. I clung to him, he felt like the only real thing in my world. “Shhh, Mina, it’s alright.” He sat me upright on the bed, “Now, lets see if we can’t help you to remember. You are Lady Araminta Wyvs, You are the last of the Wyvs line. You are also the only Wyvs in centuries to show signs of the Wyvern blood that lay dormant in your veins for so long to such an extent. Your loyal subjects are of the Dragian line, they will protect you at all costs and serve your every need, and they will die for you.”
    “Why?” He smiled, “You have asked that question for as long as I can remember, and that is quite a ways back and I still have no answer for you. It just is as it always was, the Dragians serve the Wyvs, and the Wyvs are pursued for their power. It is a cycle found throughout history.” I thought about it for a moment and an idea just sprang to my mind. “You say that, you say that I carry wyvern blood…does that mean the wyvern is inside of me…or that I myself am the wyvern?” The dreams came in one quick flashback, the sprouting of wings, flying and falling. “No one is quite sure of that, it is something that was lost through the ages. But from all records it shows the Wyvern is a separate being, but one the host cannot live without.” The door opened and Gabriel walked in, “Sir, the Council is here.”
“Lead them to the conference room, I shall be down shortly.”
“Yes Sir.” he disappeared as quickly as he had entered. The man stood to leave but I grabbed his arm, “Who are you?” I asked, he looked down at me and blinked. “I forgot, you don’t remember…its Xavier, Xavier Kale.” He tried to walk away again but panic filled me at the thought of being alone. No, I would not be alone again. “Don’t leave me.”
“Really I must, the council does not like to be kept waiting.” I gripped harder and looked deep into his silver eyes, “I cannot bear to be alone again.” He tried to pry my hand away but I was holding to tightly. “Really Mina! You are not yourself!” I began to cough, my free hand flying to my mouth and returning slick with spattered blood. “Please.” he looked at my hand horrified, “No, You are not well enough.”
“Please!” he looked around for a moment and then sighed. “Fine, but you must stay in the wheelchair and utter not a word.” I nodded; he pulled a chair from the closet and set me in it, calling for Gabriel to get the door. A short trip through the house led to a hidden doorway, stairs led down from it into a sublevel. “Gabriel, Carry the chair and get the door, wait until I call for you.”
“Yes Sir.” I was beginning to think those were the only two words he knew when he said, “Sir, are you sure it’s a good idea to bring her to the council?” His question was ignored as I was lifted into strong arms. His skin was like silk, and his scent entrancing. I buried my face into his long hair to avoid watching the stairs. I was prepared to feel the pain of being jostled around on them but was amazed, as it did not come. Before I knew it I was again in the wheelchair, wondering just how Xavier managed to walk as if he flew.
    We entered a room where four people stood, “Ladies and Gentlemen of the council, I would like you to meet Lady Araminta Wyvs.” the council members looked at each other in almost awe, one of the men, who seemed to have come to his senses demanded, “And just what do you think you’re saying?”
“I’m saying that this lovely young woman is the last of the Wyvs.”
“Impossible!” A tall, tanned woman came forward angrily, “Milady Kerani was the last! She died for the sake of the people!”
“She was my mother…” It was barely a whisper but everyone turned to me, “What?” they all asked incredulously, “My mother…Kerani…we lived in the plains, I remember because the children used to chase me, tease me…call me a monster. I used to run away when they had their slingshots.” The look on their faces made me stop. “But…of course I really don’t remember much so maybe it’s not true.” I hung my head, uncomfortable with all the eyes staring at me. “You see?” The councils murmurs had stopped, “No I don’t see Xavier! All I see is a beaten, broken girl in a wheelchair! There’s nothing important about that!” I heard a low growl as Xavier flashed from my side, he growled into the ear of the same tanned woman, “Anastasis, bow down before your superior.” she touched his face and I saw him flinch, “Now, now dear don’t get all ruffled, I didn’t mean to spoil your fun.” I was mad, so very mad, she thought this was a game. No, I would not have that, I had been captive and alone and…all of it was too much. “I am not a joke.” I stood slowly despite the pain and started to walk towards her. As I did light of black and red rolled around me giving me strength. I could feel the pieces inside me knit back together as easily as they had been ripped apart. “Don’t you EVER dare to call me a fake, I have been through too much to deal with a weak, insignificant being like you calling me names. No, You WILL apologize right now.” She quaked under my gaze and the others looked in awe as I advanced. “I, I’m sorry.” It had almost no meaning behind it but the words made me smile, “Good.” The other council members began to clap and talk excitedly, the power spiraled down from my form back to where it had come from. It left me exhausted, my wounds were healed except for a few bruises, but I felt as if they were still there. I couldn’t make it back to the chair alone, I knew that, but I tried anyway. Halfway there Xavier caught me and whispered in my ear, “I thought I told you to stay quiet and in the chair, you never did listen very well.” He set me back in the chair and began to speak with the council. I heard none of it, looking through blank eyes as I soared in the clouds once again.
    My wings healed at various angles, painful and difficultly I flew again. It was all I could do to lift myself into the air and again something pushed me down. And I spiraled down again to crash again upon the earth’s surface, broken and bleeding. I saw this happen numerous times, again and again I lifted myself up and began to fly, but always there was that force that pushed me back, that held me down. Every time I fell I felt each stitch as I sewed my wings back together, as I set the broken bones. And I knew deep in my heart that no matter what, no matter how many times I tried I would never be free. I may be able to sew things back together…but I wouldn’t be able to do it for long because no matter how much thread there is, some pieces always get lost and blood, that cannot be replaced.
    “A decision will be had in a few days time, until then we leave…Lady Wyvs in your care. Let no harm come to her and mention this no one, we shall return next Saturday.” The whole council passed by swiftly, one stopped to give me a short bow before leaving. “Milady.” I blinked; it barely registered in my mind as the last of the council left. I was so exhausted that I couldn’t comprehend Xavier’s words. He was speaking to me I could tell, his lips moved and he was looking directly at me. He leaned closer, his face close to mine, “Araminta? Araminta?” it sounded like we were underwater, I was near in a trance, colors merged and formed fuzzy, unsure objects, my mind seemed to be coherent and not at the same time. I felt my shoulder shaken lightly, “Araminta?” Barely I formed the word, “Tired.” I think Xavier smiled at that. He picked me up gently, my head resting on his shoulder next to his neck, “Rest now, it’s okay to sleep.” I don’t think I even heard the words, but felt them in his gentleness; I was asleep before we reached the stairs.

Author's Note

Blue indicates where I stopped re-editing this chapter

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

The story is very good. You have mystery, questions and poetry. It was a very long chapter. The story was strong and you held my attention. I need more details and answers. I will read on.
Coyote