The Forgotten Zodiac

Kiraki caught the teddy bear before it could hit the floor, holding it close. It felt...strange. Heavy, but lighter at the same time...it was very unusual, and she had no idea if her happiness was even there anymore. She held it close all the same, staring at Welk's apparent corpse. She started inching back to the door, deathly afraid of what would happen next. She wasn't certain, but she was pretty sure it would involve more scary things, and maybe more screaming. That, and Malice's laugh...it just wasn't right. It was filled with evil. Kiraki couldn't stand it, it frightened her more than anything else.

"Don't leave, child," Malice said. "You'll miss the best part of all." He walked over to the glowing soul-orb and picked it up, then walked back to Welk's body and touched it to his chest, starting to chant. The souls in the orb screamed and flashed sharp red colors, clearly in pain, then all of their collective years were forced together and into Welk's corpse. Malice had been gathering souls in that orb for a long time; Welk's body's lifespan now increased to well over 100,000 years, if not more. And now that Malice knew it would work, he could keep taking souls and using their years to keep his new body young. "And now for the crowning moment," he said, then placed his hand over his own chest, putting his other on Welk's. The soul transfer was instant; Malice's old body collapsed and Welk's gave a comvulsed jerk, gasping in a breath. Malice's powers flooded into his new body, turning Welk's blonde hair black and his lightly tanned skin solid white. Malice stood up in Welk's body, carefully examining his new arms, then he threw his head back and laughed long and hard. "Mine!" he shouted, wrapping his arms around himself. "It's mine! The perfect vessel, after so long... MINE!" Dark powers exploded out of him, washing over the room and killing the female servant that had removed the cover from the soul-orb. It absorbed her soul easily, arching in circles around Kiraki. It didn't hurt her, however; Malice still obviously had a need for her.

Kiraki whimpered, watching the magic circle her. She felt trapped, and her eyes found the female servant. Dead. Kiraki recoiled, swallowing hard. She staggered backwards until she backed into the wall. From there, she plopped down to the ground, terrified tears filling her eyes as she watched the magic swirl hungrily around her. She actually absorbed some without thinking; and oh, how it hurt. It was far too powerful for her frail body to handle. She could feel it tumbling around inside her, making her heart ache painfully and her chest feel as though it would explode if she didn't somehow get rid of the magic. She coughed and coughed, and though she squeezed her eyes tightly, she could definitely feel the dark energy spill out of her mouth until nothing else came out.

Kiraki crawled to the door, her vision blurred by tears. She clawed at the door, searching desperately for the handle. She finally wrenched it open and fell out into the hall, slamming the door shut behind her as quickly as she could. Kiraki resigned to just lying there for several minutes. She shook and trembled, staring blankly at the stone wall for a very long time, hugging Sir Two-Foot as tightly as she possibly could.

Malice laughed away inside the throne room for a long moment, until he finally managed to stop himself. Silence reigned for a long time afterwards. Finally, it was broken by a sound.

Soft sobbing sounds were coming from Kiraki's teddy bear.

Welk's soul was trapped inside, after all. He was crying softly, in a great amount of pain. His sobs were so emotional and quiet. He had pretty much given up completely, resigned to just crying endlessly until he had no more tears.

Kiraki looked down sadly at her bear, wondering what to do. Finally, she picked up Sir Two-Foot and stood. She carried him back to her room, deciding that she needed to lie down for awhile. When she got there and closed the door, she threw off her shoes, curled up into bed and dragged the covers over her head. "Please don't cry," She said quietly to Sir Two-Foot. "You're supposed to be my happiness, aren't you? You can't cry. Crying isn't happy." She said, though tears were dripping from her own face out of the pure terror she had felt minutes before.

Welk sniffled, then spoke quietly. "I...can do...nothing...but...cry..." he said, his voice halting, broken and weak. It was hard for him to talk, and once he finished those words, he went silent. Perhaps perminantly. At any rate, he certainly didn't want to talk at all. He suddenly found himself wanting his mother, Briana. His heart ached hard at the thought of her, but it hurt worse at the thought of Werr.

Werr... His best friend. His new brother.

Welk's sobs continued.

Werr clung to the spike in front of him, resting his forehead on the hard, bony structure. They were flying back to Amnarius; Werr wanted to speak with Galai, to get as much information on the Artifacts as possible. They needed to know what they were up against. They had already flown for most of the day; it was getting into the late evening as they crossed over the mountain region that bordered the desert. It would be another day before they reached the gate to Amnarius.

Obelisk, however, noticed something. His bandages reached back and tapped on Werr's shoulder, making him look up at the elongated human in frustration. He just wanted to be alone at this point. But when Obelisk pointed to their right, Werr did indeed look. And then he stared. Several dark shapes were flying around what appeared to be a massive bonfire. A quick check of the landscape confirmed to Werr where exactly they were.

The bonfire was Alastor Castle.

((I had no idea what else to do. oxo Tell me if you think this is too early/you had other plans on how to do this part. :T))

((It's fine.))

The dark shapes flying around the burning castle were none other than dragons, several of which was dreadfully famililar. "Burn everything!" Naybrin's deep voice bellowed, hatred and rage in every inch of his being. "Leave nothing alive! I want everything in ruin!" The dragons he commanded obeyed instantly, either charging down to slam into the castle or setting up another round of flames.

Firestorm blinked sharply, not understanding what was going on. He flew forward at once, forgetting about his passengers. "Alpha!" he shouted once he was close enough. "What are you doing?"

Naybrin whipped his icy head around and fixed him with a startled look, then glared sharply when he saw the beings on Firestorm's back. "You..." he growled, baring his long, sharp whtie teeth. "Werr! How dare you, king of Alastor?! I curse your kingdom to BURN!"

Werr stared at the castle in shock, looking up as Naybrin spoke. "Why?!" He screamed suddenly, standing up on Firestorm's back. Obelisk's bandages slid around him, helping him keep his balance and not fall off. He would have cared in any other situaton, but this was serious. "What reason to you have to curse my kingdom, Naybrin?! Why are you doing this to me?"

"YOU TOOK MY SON'S LIFE!" was the return scream. "I tracked Grey's essence down when he didn't return home and found him dead inside YOUR dungeons! I don't know if you had anything to do with this or not, but the point is that my beloved child DIED here! One way or another, his young life was stolen from him here! Thus I take your castle from you, O mighty human king! And I'll take your life as well! The dragons are now your enemies!" He flared his wings and shot forward, roaring even as tears slid down his face.

Firestorm barely managed to dodge in time.

"I don't know what you're taking about!" Werr screeched back, sitting back down on Firestorm's back. He would have fallen right off if not for the bandages around his waist.

"I do believe he's telling the truth," Obelisk tutted. "I witnessed Malice murder a young Wyrven shortly before you regained your memories. I didn't have a good chance to tell you, so I just let him rest in peace down in the dungeons."

"Wha--I thought...I thought you just chased him off!" Werr stared at Obelisk in bewilderment. "Obelisk, what have you done?! I could have explained it to Naybrin before any of this happened, I could have--"

"But you did not! Focus on the task at--" Obelisk snarled with pain as the bandages were ripped clean apart. A small, younger dragon had swooped in from behind Firestorm, snatching Werr right off of the larger dragon's back.

"I got him, I have him!" The young female squeaked, digging her talons painfully into Werr's shoulders, carrying him straight to Naybrin.

"St-stop, you do-don't...understand!" Werr screamed in pain, struggling against the claws that held him fast. She raked her back talons across his back and legs, demanding that he hold still.

Cynyr was off of Firestorm in an instant, snapping out his air wings and arching towards the female dragon. He flapped his wings powerfully, vanishing from sight and sense.

Narbrin brought his huge head around, growling heavily despite his obvious pain. He snarled and opened his mouth, ready to crush Werr between his jaws, but when he closed his mouth, Werr wasn't there. Naybrin tossed his head back and twisted around, trying to find the boy.

Cynyr appeared in the air, Werr held tightly in his arms. "Keep moving!" he called to Firestorm. "Get them to...the place!" He didn't dare say Amnairus' name, not wanting the dragons to attack there as well. If they hadn't already.

Firestorm darted off, mostly going because he felt an obligation to Zephyr to help the people on his back. He had promised his older brother, after all.

Cynyr flapped his wings again, vanishing once more.

Naybrin screamed, his deep, pain-filled voice echoing out across the entire land.

Werr clung as tightly as he could onto Cynyr, unable to feel his legs other than the warm blood dripping from them. "N-no, Cynyr, we have to stop them! They'll burn the entire kingdom to the ground, I-I have to explain to Naybrin what happened! What kind of king steps back and lets his people die?!" He screamed at Cynyr, trying to fight out of his friend's grip.

"And if you die, what'll happen to the rest of your kingdom?!" Cynyr shouted, pausing in the air to give Werr a shake. "Naybrin won't listen you you, Werr! He's angry and listening to pure rage! He'd sooner eat you than hear you speak. Give him time to calm down and then we'll come back, I promise! Look!" He hefted the boy and rose up into the air, showing Werr the burning castle. "He's not going after the farmlands and towns. Just the castle," he said. "The people should be fine for a while. But even if they were being brutally murdered, I wouldn't let you go back! I have as much, if not more, of a right to you as they do! I won't let my closest friend be killed." He shot off again, his ears tucked tightly back against his head.

Werr finally went limp, eventually passing out as they flew on, losing blood far too quickly to struggle anymore.

He woke again in Amnarius. He easily recognized the bright light and pure white of the sheets and blankets. He immediately felt his legs, finding no wound; of course, they would have taken care of that before he woke up. He remembered how he had gotten injured.

And immediately, anger pushed into his mind. This was Obelisk's fault. If Werr had known of Grey's fate, it would have been a simple matter to return the body and explain before Naybrin could get mad and do...this. But now people had suffered; Werr didn't remember seeing anyone fleeing from the castle. Which meant his servants and guards had still been inside. And even if some of them had escaped, Hurst would have absolutely stayed behind and attempted to man the cannons in order to try and fight off the dragons. He probably hadn't even gotten off a single shot, though...

Werr pushed himself upright, wiping his face with his hands before opening his eyes, looking around.

Cynyr was slumped against a nearby wall, unconscious. He looked pretty bad, but not like he was on the verge of death. He wasn't wearing his cloak or shirt and had bandages wrapped around his chest, clearly to cover his back. Having used his air wings two days in a row had torn up the skin of his back, leaving jagged marks there. He hadn't let the Divine healers work on him, not trusting any doctor other than Seria, who had been busy with Werr. By the time she had returned to him, he had already doctored himself, to her protest.

To Werr's shock, Jag was standing in the room, leaning against a nearby wall and peering at the human king. "Hey," he said once he saw that the boy was awake. "What's up, King Alastor?"

"What do you want?" Werr frowned, clearly unhappy. "I think you know 'what's up' already..." He grumbled, standing up and immediately sitting back down, feeling dizzy. He had bled out for nearly an hour before they had reached a place where he could be healed, which had been just inside the Eternal Garden. "G-go get me some water, don't just stand there..."

Jag shrugged his shoulders, then went out and did as the king asked. He returned with not only the water, but a small green dragon on his shoulder.

Zephyr hopped off and took the size of a small puppy, flying over and landing on the edge of Werr's bed. He folded his wings calmly, then looked up at Werr with his deep red eyes. "So it's true?" he said quietly, his familiar voice sad. "Naybrin has rallied the dragons against Alastor?"

Jag set the glass of water down nearby and simply chose to listen.

Werr took the water and drank about half of it before responding. "Yes," He said quietly. "Grey was found dead in my dungeons. Obelisk tells me that Malice killed him while my memories were still gone, and Obelisk never told me, even after I was better. Naybrin...has every right to be angry. But...so do I. I didn't know anything of Grey's corpse in my dungeons, nor did I do anything to cause it. I could have gone and told Naybrin up front about it, too. This never would have happened if Obelisk had just spoken up...and for all I know," He groaned, trying to stand up again. "My people a-are dying wh-while I lie here...in bed..." He leaned heavily against the wall, struggling over to the door.

Zephyr jumped off of the bed and took middle form, moving around in front of Werr with his wings flared open. "I understand where you are coming from, your majesty," he said gravely. "But I came to speak with you over a very important matter. You see...Firestorm left to join the other dragons. He felt the urge to help his kind." He shook his muzzle sadly, then said "I...have that same right, you know. To leave here and join my own people in destroying yours. But that's what I wanted to talk with you about. Naybrin's way of going about this is wrong in every way, and I don't like it. That's why I will not join my kind in battle. If you would have me, your majesty...I'd be honored to help you." He bent regally onto one front knee, touching his muzzle gently to one of Werr's hands. "You also must understand, though, that Grey was Naybrin's last link to his dead mate. Grey was his pride and joy. His child. Naybrin is suffering harshly, your majesty, making him blind to reason. I do believe that if we give him some time, his rage will subside some and we may be able to speak to him."