Dragon Frost (43 page)

“
Grandma,
I didn’t expect you to be here,” I voice a little
shocked.

“
Dear,
you don’t expect me anywhere.”

I smile,
“well how can I when you’re the master of stealth.” She smiles and
quirks a brow. She than glances at Altair who stands now beside me.
I don’t mind but I’m still mad at him. He can be very, insensitive
at times.

“
So, are
Kal and Altair arguing again?” she addresses Madam Rougé who like
us have kept her head down as she speaks to the Queen.

“
Yes, my
lady, the same as always, I suppose,” This causes my grandmother to
bubble in giggles and I aim to not say something silly. Though,
I’ve said sillier things before in front and to my grandmother
which makes her laugh I don’t know whether at those times to be
embarrassed or annoyed. She does have a different way of delivering
humor.

“
What am
I going to do with you two?” she sighs and shakes her silver head,
her long hair dances gently over and around her shoulders and flows
down the ground behind her, she doesn’t seem to mind though, it’s
like this world with us in it is almost a joke, I frown at the
thought. Maybe I can be a bit too hard on myself.

We don’t
answer.

The sound
of tattering footsteps make their way to us and I see Luchard, the
Queen’s most trusted adviser and my most hated confrère. There’s a
reason as to why I keep him at bay, there’s just something off
about him, something I don’t like and something, I can’t quiet put
my finger on but can’t exactly push aside, either. “My lady,”
Luchard begins with an arrogant tone and a swift glance my way
before bowing with a hand over his heart. His silver blue cape runs
over his shoulders and down to the ground, while his scales clings
to his skin like the rest of us.

“
Luchard.” My grandmother nods. I glare at Luchard while his
head is down hoping he won’t get up but to my disappointment he
does and I’m not sure if I want to stand around anymore. I would
walk out of here but my grandmother hasn’t exactly dismissed me.
“What brings you here?” she asks.

“
The
Contuse Sector in Quadrant 4B.” I stare at him.

“
Zylaria?” I question.

Everyone looks
at me and I shift my gaze down to the ground.

“
What of
Quadrant 4B?” Madam Rougé questions.

“
You . .
. I do not answer to.” His tone is even as he refuses to meet Madam
Rouge’s gaze and I feel her anger running off in waves. I move and
place a hand on her forearm.

“
But you
will answer me.” I say. He’s quiet and I add, “Well?”

His gaze
turns to my grandmother and she nods, there’s his approval, I fight
back a smile. I can see through the demeanor he’s managed to create
over the millennium, it may fool my grandmother, my father and
sister but it won’t fool me—he never has and he never will. It’s
not the pain or the tingling feeling within my legs but the
uncertainty of what may possibly happen to Varden. They can’t kill
him just yet but that doesn’t mean they won’t make him undergo
excruciating torcher.

“
The
Contuse Sector has been infiltrated by the Grattican.” I know. “It
appeared as though they were searching for it and the Order in
Midra has been destroyed everyone affiliated with the Order were
slain.” He pauses and continues, “Demons, and their associates have
plagued the world sending it into total chaos. This apparently is
the result of a Royal descendant.”

Varden!

“
He
didn’t do it.” I snap and I feel everyone’s eyes on me. I keep
myself composed. “You have no proof, the demons and the outrage of
the Grattican is due to their fear of the Zylaria’s power
returning. They want to keep the world controlled and contained,
they want to keep its inhabitants as lap dogs.”

“
If there
is a Royal among them, where is he?” my grandmother asks. My
courage momentarily falters.

“
Gone . .
. ”

I glance
at the female physiotherapist who was assigned to help me
recuperate—apparently I’m not help to people if I can’t use my full
abilities—the burning pain of my muscles gradually decreases as I
followed her instructions, with my back flat against the carpeted
floor, her weight upon my leg, aiding in my glut stretches. From
the butt stretches to the back and upper body stretches, the
stiffness my body feels slowly but surely disappears.

I’ve been
home now for a good two weeks and I’m told I’m not going back
anytime soon, at first anxiety overwhelmed me to the point where I
literally made myself sick with worry. I was bed ridden for a good
day after I spent the night throwing up. The doctors, energists and
armorists told me that I won’t be fit for battle anytime soon. At
mid-day everyday between my physical examines and the countless
other appointments I must keep, I’m required to have an hour of
therapy—to help to stabilize my mind—I’ve been re-administrated my
anti-depressants on maximum dosage. As the days passed by, as
quickly as they came, I became not as worried about Varden, instead
I had learned to put more trust in my comrades. “My lady . . . ”
came the voice I know all too well.

I glance over
my shoulder.

Syara
stands her hands crossed over her silver blue gown with slight
amour upon her wrist, torso and cleavage. I smile. “Syara.” I say
and turn my gaze back to the distant valley that glows gently
against the beautiful golden, pink and red sunset. “What brings you
here?” I ask, keeping my gaze firmly ahead.

“
Your
grandmother, my lady.” I sigh.

“
Of
course.”

I stand
and follow Syara out who is my personal maid—a ladies’ maid—she
stays by my side always, a guard walks behind us, on guard and
serious as the rest. I don’t understand all of the precautions
required to protect us. We’re warriors. Danger is in us, the
unpredictability of it is in us. I glance ahead of the silver,
porcelain halls, we turn left, right before heading up steel like
stairs. I lift my gown and hike the man-made mountain and stop. We
finally arrive.

I remember
those golden doors.

They glow
magnificently against the luminous torches that sight on either
side, powered by our Zyrex (our Power Source), the doors swing open
and I enter without hesitation, I feel Syara behind me, the sound
of shuffling feet greets my ears and I can tell the guards have
switched now a different one follows us in the large hall,
furnished by suits of armor gleaming under our energy torches our
lights. I glance ahead and there sit my grandmother upon her
throne, her silver blue gown contrasting the blue markings on her
face and the seven-point star upon her forehead, like mine. Father
and I inherited that trait from her and her father and her father’s
father, so on, so on.

I kneel.

“
You’re
Majesty.” I say, formally. I dare not look up.

“
Leave
us.” she commands. Feet shuffle behind me and disappear in the
thick silence that plagues the room—by this tension, I’m not sure
if it is good or not—I don’t say anything more. I don’t hear her
footsteps and become surprised at her presence proudly before me.
“There’s no need for the formality child. I’ve seen you when you
were dirty and newly hatched, naked.” My head snaps up.

“
Grandma!” I groan, she’ll never forget, being the first to
hold me as she aided in my mother secured me from Tylif while my
father was off, keeping the enemy from reaching our boarders. I was
told he only arrived three days after I hatched and had given me my
name, the name that’s created from one of the most sacred places to
the humans—Calvary.

Grandma pulls
me to my feet.

“
Tsk,
child.” she scolds—one of her pet names for me—that unfavourably
stuck, “there’s nothing wrong with bare babes.”

“
There is
with adults . . .” I mutter under my breath and there’s silence. I
regard my grandmother to see her giving me a stern, disapproving
look, “sorry.” I add quickly.

“
You’re
probably wondering why you’re here?” I nod and she tucks my arm
through hers. We glide down an adjacent hallway and overlook our
distant but ever beautiful Nebula.

“
I am.” I
confess.

Silence
stretches between us—once more—this time it’s like it’s lasted for
eons.

“
You are
aware that the Grattican are ruling the worlds aligned and seated
within the United Planets?” I nod, she continues, “the Grattican
have always been our enemies—they are serpents—absolute liars and
masters of deception. That’s how they win most political, social
and economic battles. Our people are falling in number but our
power continues to grow.”

“
I know
but what can we do?”

“
We do
what we’ve always done 
battle
—for the sake of the several Codex’s spread sparsely
throughout the universe.” she says in a informing voice.

“
But?” I
ask, she turns to me, her deep blue eyes are stern and her light
brown skin glistens under the moon.

“
I’m not
giving you a choice this is something we all have to do.” She
stares at me—passively, “This is something you must do.”

In the
everlasting world of Darkness there’s a light, faintly it glistens.
Though, my thoughts are pulled from me by the sound of a comforting
yet familiar voice, “Is everything all right?” I nod. I glance at
Dante, his face is impassive—he knows better than everyone else
that everything is not all right but I must keep up a front in
front of these men—any form or display of weakness and I’ll lose
all ounce of respect they have for me as well as their desire to
follow me into the upcoming battle.

“
Is
everything ready?” I ask. He nods. “Good, we’ll leave at sunrise.”
I turn my back on the edge of the cliff where I once stood and
towards my tent. I wonder past men, cleaning, sharpening and
practicing with their weapons of war . . . Varden is now at the
hands of Golgotha and the Frost Dragon—named Dezterox—is nowhere to
be heard. He apparently is responsible for the protection of my
sister—Galataia and the people who inhabit the dome—however they
won’t remain safe forever. I still remember the conversation as if
it were yesterday. “How can you be speaking the truth?” I had
asked. My memories had come back slowly but no doubt they are
back.

It’s the
cool spring air that caresses my face, it’s surreal but
fascinating, I can’t help but allow my gaze to smolder over the
distant ranges that peeks here and there in shades of
dark—brown—blue—gray. It’s amazing and I can’t help but admire the
calm and ever present galaxy that insists on keeping us, full with
life, full with every passing sunrise and sunset. I can’t help but
feel frustrated. I continue to twist my sleeve around in my fingers
as I try to understand the changes, the craziness that has
occurred. Still, I’m frustrated. Why? Is it because I allowed
Golgotha to get away, or that I still haven’t found Vedric or, I’m
nowhere near to finding a way for us to survive this
war.

“
Is
everything all right?” I hear a voice ask. I nod. I glance at
Dante, his face is impassive—he knows better than everyone else
that everything is not all right but I must keep up a front in
front of these men—any form or display of weakness and I’ll lose
all ounce of respect they have for me as well as their desire to
follow me into the upcoming battle.

In the
crevices of darkness . . . there is an evil far worse than the
monsters of the Night . . . I haven’t been able to do much, though
I’m now officially allowed to roam beyond the castle grounds. My
grandma doesn’t allow me to go beyond our province that which is
made up of five countries and twenty-six districts. I’m not sure
whether to be frustrated or happy that she’s giving me some space.
Though there are times when I wonder if my current condition has
caused my men to look at me with respect or a fragile piece of
China. I glance over at the horizon before managing to make a final
decision. “We move now.” I say to Dante still keeping my gaze upon
the distant ranges.

“
I’ll
tell the others.” And with that he leaves.

Even
though my mind is distant and my heart is oddly at peace I can’t
understand how it all seemed to happen. Dante was ordered to stay
behind as my personal body guard, though I didn’t approve, I would
attempt every now and again to convince everyone that I was and
still am okay, if I’m not getting beaten up than I’m most
definitely not doing my job.

Today’s
task is simple . . . demons have been seen roaming our lands even
with the advancement of our spells and technology—they’ve learned
and as such—people are beginning to lose hope in our Queen, in my
grandmother, above all they are beginning to lose hope in us—the
Nefaliem. So we have been sent to remove the demons from our
lands.

I hear the
approach of familiar footsteps.

“
We’re
ready,” came the voice of my second in
command—Augustine.

“
And of
Dante?”

“
He’s
helping in preparing our horses and ensuring that everyone
remembers the plan.” I glance over my shoulder. There stands a
largely built man in armor, his silver helmet is tucked under his
arm, gleaming under the sun. The best way to track a demon, is
during daylight. His short silver hair cascades around his high
sharp cheekbones, framing his narrow pointed features.