The Forgotten Zodiac

Sam blinked his maroon eyes at Werr, then nodded and said "Yes, of course. I'll need all the help I can get, so I'd be delighted to walk with you. You have experiance, being a king yourself and all, and you'll be able to understand my questions."

Naybrin smiled approvingly, glad that Sam was willing to listen and learn. He was smart, too, understanding that Werr was a good source of information about kingship. Naybrin then sighed and said "I wish I could follow you inside, but...I'm afraid that with my age and size, I no longer have the ability to shrink." He looked down, then rubbed the underside of his jaw against Werr's head, saying "I will eagerly await your return, Werrin." He pulled back, glancing up at the sky in order to watch birds.

"Of course." Werr nodded, smiling at his friend. "Come along then, Sam. We have much to discuss." He said, turning and heading into the castle, his hand on Sam's back as he walked.

Once they were gone, a figure appeared on the roof with a haze of smoke. "I'll never understand humans," She said with a small sigh, apparently lounging. If nothing else, she looked like a priestess of some kind; she wore dull red robes, although she clearly had tight black clothes on underneath. The hood of the robes covered black hair, which was cut close to her head, although her bangs fell over her left eye. She wore small boots that rose up to just under her knees, a fine black leather that suited the rest of her outfit.

"Oh, you might not recognize me. It is I, Zela, the guardian of magic." She pushed herself into the air and did a flip before landing nimbly on her feet, the toes of her shoes hanging over the edge of the roof. She bowed low, then straightened up again, pulling her hood back. "I know that rings a bell with you, Naybrin. We Guardians were the first to be made; after you, of course. Ah, but who am I speaking with? You know that."

Naybrin gave a slight smile, moving one paw up to lean on it in a humanish gesture. "But of course," he said, flicking his long ears. "You all are good company, I admit that. Especially when you're as old as I am. You all were some of the first creatures I met, before the other dragons were made. Ahh...back when I was young." Before he could seemingly go into some sort of speech about his life back when he was younger, he tilted his muzzle down at Zela. "What are you here for, might I ask?"

"I'm here to speak with you about something. Before it gets worse. You have been through a time of great sadness," She said, sitting down on the edge of the roof, her legs dangling over. "Believe it or not, Werr was sad for you and your loss. He just couldn't quite express that due to you tearing up his kingdom. And then you showed him what would have happened with his friends had he not taken the path he did; you were so happy to be his friend, and he was happy to have you to support him. This is all nice and whatnot; but I'm afraid these recent happy-fits you two are having draws the line. You have made a Raroktorak; a Heart-bond with the human king. For a human to make such a thing with any smaller beast, such as a dog or a horse, that is fine. The animal is driven by their master's emotions and share their feelings.

"But for you, great one, it is a bit more serious. You are no mindless animal. You have emotions, and so does Werr. Those are colliding in such a way that you both feel what makes sense considering the current conditions; you feel happy, relieved, perhaps giddy, in a way. This may not seem like a problem now; Werr Rowe is happy for once. No harm there. But when things begin to grow saddening, Werr's emotion will collide and conflict with yours. More than likely, your sadness will overcome and engulf the boy. Goodness knows he doesn't need more misery. And to make matters worse, when times of danger may arrive, Werr's fear could possibly affect you, ruining your great judgement and capabilities. Tricky things, Heart-bonds; if you happen to wish to allow this to continue, it may end up that your souls become tied. When you meet your end, so shall he. When he faces death, so shall you. This is why I have come. A Soul-bond has only been made once before; Galai and Titus used their greatness to craft one without the Heart-bond. Soul-bonds are dangerous and difficult to understand; even I, the giver of magical gifts and keeper of all spells, barely understand its complexities. I have come for one of two reasons. Firstly, if you wish me to, I shall remove the heart-bond between you both. Or secondly, if you do not want to remove this magic tie, I will remain to...study the outcome. Simply put."

Naybrin listened quietly, watching Zela as she spoke. He sighed when she was finished, moving his paw away from his cheek to rub it over his arm. "You know, this is not my first Heart-bond," he said. "My first...was, sadly, my last. For a very long time. Fyaia, the golden goddess...my mate. The First Queen. The moment ours eyes met, I remember, the Heart-bond was instant. I loved her so much. And she loved me. Not long after we mated, we found Grey. Our son, though not by blood. Wyverns are very rare, and we found him when he had been born prematurely from his mother, who had died from cold. We took him instantly as our own.

I would not willingly let go this new Heart-bond. I am terribly old by this time. I have too few joys left and far too many sorrows. Leave me one of my last joys, I ask. Stay close, though, little Zela. And I ask you this. If ever should there come a time where my emotions threaten Werr's life, severe the tie." He lowered his head, exhaling quietly. "I wish I could keep it. I like Werr. He reminds me of Grey, and I admit that the boy holds sway over my heart. And old that I might be, I have many, many more years left to me. Easily more than Werr's human lifespan, and his childrens' lifespans, and his grandchildrens' lifespans." He sighed deeply, then said "But yes. If Werr is threatened, remove the bond and return us to normal. But for now, I wish desperately to keep it."

"Very well then." Zela said quietly, smiling a little. "Should you change your mind and wish for it to be severed at any other time, merely call upon my name and it shall be done. In return for allowing me to study this bond between you both, I shall bestow a gift upon each of you. Werr first, I suppose." She said, the king's staff appeared in her hands. A bit of examination, and a flash of fire later, and the staff glowed dimly, apparently a bit larger than before and ruby encrusted now. "There we go. Better, longer lasting flames, and a bit of a size adjustment. His friend did well on the blade and magics; there isn't much else I can do with that. And what of you, Naybrin? What magical or physical gift could I give a great beast who holds magic in his breath alone?"

Naybrin smiled, then said "I don't want anything. I have more treasure than I could give away. Gold and jewels have no interest for me. You can't give me my mate back. No, all I want is this. This Heart-bond. I find it extremely enjoyable and pleasent and happy and just...a very fufilling thing. I've never felt this with with a human before, and I like it dearly. Werr is...a friend. A good little friend, and you know I've always found humans to be adorable little creatures. Fasinating. And more so than other humans, Werr seems to understand. Even just a little." He sighed, blinking his large green eyes.

"In my opinion, Werr will be considered the wisest of all humans in his elderly years. If he survives that long, which doesn't seem very likely. But the fact that he's still alive means something. Did you know that his mother had been planning to kill him before Sylas returned? And then there was the fire. Herthum started that fire, you know. Fate. It's a bit curious...all the boy's life, he's had people wanting him dead. First his mother, then Obelisk, and now his mother again, along with all of the Silver Tornado. The ironic thing is, he probably won't die until no one wishes death upon him. That's irony. Almost palpable." She chortled, then watched Naybrin for a long moment. "I will never understand your fascination with humans. The only human I see to be interested with is Remor. And he can hardly be classified as human. Poor old soul."

"Bah," Naybrin said, rolling over and wiggling all around, scratching his scales with the ground. "I just think humans are extremely neat. They don't have wings or tails or long ears, their teeth are small and their claws non-existant, and they don't have thick skin for their armor. But yet they've survived and can do miraculous things with those tiny little stick arms and legs." He flicked his ears back, rolling over onto his belly once again and folding his paws. "Remor. Now that's quite the tale..." the First King said. "Poor old soul, indeed. Perhaps one of these days someone will figure a way to yank that foul life crystal out of him and finally let him have his forever-sleep. But it would take a powerful, powerful magic to remove that crystal, more power than even I hold." He puffed out his cheeks, making a very odd face, then lowered his head to the ground and said "I might as well sleep. I have nothing else to do in my life but sleep. Ho hum."

"No. What interests me most about him is his magic. They've a mind of their own. They've taken him over completely; probably made a mental paradise for him, to keep him satisfied. Remor only comes when he's called upon, and with everyone knowing him as Obelisk, he rarely sees reality. I think he prefers it that way," Zela watched Naybrin for a moment more, then tilted her head to the side a bit. "Now that's not true. You could cause mass havoc and chaos. You could destroy empires and large islands. With your power, well, the world could be on their knees. But you aren't like that. All that magic remains bottled up inside you. It's a bit sad, really...I would really enjoy seeing your true potential. No matter," She stood, smiling a bit. "I've other things to attend for now." She turned, finding herself face-to-face with Sylas.

"Oh. You." She made a face.

"Do I know you? Ahh, you're a Guardian, judging from your clothes."

"Guardian of Magic. And?"

"Nothing at all. I'm just a curious old fellow, that's all. Say, how do you--" Sylas stopped short when Zela slapped him, then vanished.

"You already know too much, Sylas!" She warned him before leaving completely.

"Oh. Oh, well." Sylas rubbed his cheek, plopping down where Zela had been sitting. Just to watch Naybrin. He couldn't understand the great king of dragons, surely, but it was still quite a sight.

Panic. That described it nicely. Nate had torn up his room searching for the one he shared it with. He had searched in the hot springs, the gardens, and now he was staggering up the castle stairs to the infirmary. He was angry, heartbroken, and injured; the claw marks over his lips still oozed blood, the hole in his wing had gotten wider from the flight, his tail looked as though someone had wrapped it in barbed wire (pieces of it were still stuck in his scales), and he looked beaten up in general.

But he was most annoyed about how he had been captured. Werr and the others had just left him in the Storaph Palace infirmary. Ran off to do their own business and left him. The Silver Tornados returned to find their heir to the throne dead, but they were pleased to see Nate again. He had been beaten for information, which he didn't give, and then forced to witness the murder of his wife. Nate, lost in a daze at this point, passed right by the infirmary door and tripped over a maid a few doors down. He fell against the wall and slid to the floor, then just stayed there. Pretty much in ruin.

Tasia was in the infirmary, talking to Seria, who was checking over everything to make sure the baby was developing. They were further back, in a side room, so they hadn't been able to hear Nate's rampage. Tasia said goodbye to Seria, who still had work to do in the infirmary, then moved to the door, one hand held over her belly. There was a very slight bump there now, signaling the growing baby. She briefly wondered if it was a girl or boy, and she smiled happily.

Then she stepped outside and glanced down the hall, spotting her mate curled up there.

"Nate?!" she gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth before racing over to him, falling to her knees and quickly taking his hand, wrapping her wings around him. "Nate, what happened? What happened to you? Oh, Nate..." She touched a hand to his cheek, kissing his forehead desperately.

Nate stared at her dully. He reached his hand up and settled it gently on her cheek, blinking slowly. He smiled slightly, then went limp. "I'm dying. Hallucinating. Don't worry, Tasia...I will be with you soon." He said weakly, closing his eyes and going limp. He wasn't actually dying, but he certainly wanted to at this point. He didn't understand. He was just...well, done.

"Nate, no!" Tasia nearly screamed, frantically holding him close to her. "I-I'm not dead! But if you die, then I and our child won't survive! I can't live without you!" Tears flooded down her cheeks. She didn't know what she had done to deserve this. She had been a good wife, taking care of Nate whenever she could and waiting for him whenever he left, allowing him to mate with her when he wanted, even though she had been scared, and now carrying their baby inside her. She had been doing everything right; eating things with good nutrients for the baby and resting a lot. Why did this happen? "Naaate!" Tasia wailed, putting his forehead to her neck.

Seria ran out of the infirmary, her eyes wide. "What happened?!" she gasped, moving forward to kneel down on Nate's other side to start healing him.

"I...d-don't...know!" Tasia wailed, hiccupping and sobbing.

"What's going on?" Ophile walked around the corner. He had returned to Amnairus after they had defeated the heir, in order to explain what all had happened. He had actually snuck onto Toro's carriage in order to save himself the run.

"Upon my word. If I recall, I saw Nate in the Storaph Palace infirmary last." Ophile snorted, nosing the almost unconscious Nate. The dragonian pushed Ophile away with a groan.

"Stop it...n-no more illusions...no more hallucinations...make it stop, please..." Nate murmured.

"It seems he's lost reality." Ophile said quietly. "He believes you to be dead, Tasia...he tried to kill whom he thought was your murderer. Luckily, Naybrin was there and convinced him to come here. A wise choice."

Tasia wept bitterly, saying "Fix him! Someone, anyone, please!" She was hysterical at this point, giving little hissed mewls at people in order to firmly state that Nate was hers.

Seria had finished healing him, but now she was worried for two things. The first, obviously, was Nate, but if Tasia didn't settle down, there was a risk for her to miscarriage. The last thing Seria wanted was for Tasia to lose her first baby after having such a hard time before; the poor girl would never want to mate with Nate again for the rest of her life, for fear of becoming pregnant again. "Tasia," Seria said, reaching out and putting her hand on the girl's shoulder. "You have to calm down. For your baby."

Tasia shuddered, putting her forehead to Nate's and whispering "Nate, please...I'm right here...I need you. Please...I'm not an illusion...I'm not a hallucination...I'm your wife and mate and I have your baby!" She took his hand and put it against her belly, against the tiny bump that was a baby inside her.

Nate opened his eyes slightly, his hand twitching as Tasia pressed it to her stomach. He opened and closed his mouth, feeling the skin and muscle having been healed. "There...i-is only one way to find out for sure," He mumbled, pushing himself upright a little more, closer to Tasia. He reached up an placed a firm hand on her shoulder, forcing his lips onto hers. Before he released her, Tasia could feel his tears. After a long kiss, he finally leaned back and sighed, his hand loosening as he relaxed visibly. He moved his hand down to hers, giving a gentle squeeze as he cried. "I...thought you were dead...I thought you were gone...gone forever." He pushed himself forward again and wrapped his arms around her, crying weakly and not caring who saw him.

She held him close, stroking her claws through his hair. She tilted his head back and kissed him again, moving her lips against his lovingly before pulling back, breathless from him kissing her so suddenly and then her kissing him now. "I'll never leave," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. "I can't. I'm tied to you. I can't live without you." She pressed her cheek against his, then moved her hands up to wipe his tears away, despite already crying herself.

Nate clung to her tightly, his wings wrapped around her protectively. He pulled her onto his lap, starting to calm himself down. Tasia was alive. The child was still growing. But Nate would never forget the dead feeling he had when Tasia had died before him. When his unborn child had been slayed in front of him. He squeezed Tasia as tightly as he dared, careful not to hurt her. "I love you..." He murmured, unable to say anything else without his voice cracking.

"I love you too," she murmured, then carefully helped tug him up, saying "Come on, let's go to our room. I want to be alone..." She let him lean on her as they slowly made their way to their room, where she helped him lay down on the bed. She spent a minute stroking his hair, then straightened and moved over to a full-length mirror, pulling her shirt up in order to see her stomach as she turned sideways. She carefully pressed her hands to her petite, narrow stomach, touching the small bulge just under her navel. She glanced over at Nate, then smiled and looked down, glad that the little one she was carrying was a part of him.

Nate watched quietly, smiling happily in spite of his recent horrors. He had nothing to worry about. Even though he knew it would only be worse in the case that Tasia and the child were killed. So, he knew. It musn't happen. Ever.

"The servants are commonly very kind. If you'll ask nicely, then they'll probably help you out with picking out clothes, too. Believe it or not, appearances do matter. I may not look like a king now, but I don't want to stick out any more than I already do. But when you're at your thrown, people expect you to at least look like a king. I'm afraid I'm not good at acting the part, but that doesn't matter too much when it comes down to it." Werr explained as they entered the throne room. Of course, the...mess had already been cleaned up. Asmodius would recieve a proper burial after the coronation. "Any questions?"