The Forgotten Zodiac

"Sleep? No, no, no," Cyprus shook his head. "I'm okay. Thank you, though..." He smiled a bit. "Thank you for being able to understand me, too...I'm a Demigod. People have a very slim chance of being able to hear someone like me. Only those with extremely powerful magic...and good hearts. Naybrin understands me, but no one else in your group seems to." He gave her a quick pat on the head, then walked to the door. "I'll just--" His knees suddenly hit the floor, and he started coughing. His fit lasted several minutes, and blood was all over his hands by the time he was done. He gasped for air, wincing with pain.

"Bad, bad, bad...it hurts..." He whimpered, shaking his head. "I'm running out of magic. S-sorry for scaring you. There isn't anything you can do. Just go...talk to your husband, yes? Be happy again..."

((Aww~ ^^ I love you too.

Also, I'm totally making Naybrin oversleep. 936))

((Mew~

Booooo.))

Seria bit her lip in concern, then gave a weak nod and said "Well...at least try and rest some, okay?" She took cat form and sighed, then said "My name is Seria, by the way. I...just...th-thank you..." She trotted forward, turning and heading to the room that was over by one. She nudged the door open, glancing inside.

Cynyr was there, like he had said, curled up on Werr's other side with the boy's arms wrapped around his neck. Welk was cuddled around Isslia against Werr's right.

Seria sighed, then slowly padded forward and climbed up on the bed, nestling down against her husband. He woke instantly and turned his head a bit, sighing when he saw his wife. He gave her forehead a soft lick and was relieved when she returned it quietly. He let her burrow in between himself and Werr, but turned so his head was still on the boy's chest and so Werr didn't have to let go of him.

They fell asleep like that, and Seria was actually able to sleep peacefully for the first time a long time.

The common waking time remained around dawn. Werr was the first to stir, though he hadn't been expecting to see Seria. He pushed himself upright, stretching a bit and yawning widely. Werr looked from Seria and Cynyr to Welk and Isslia...there wasn't much chance of him getting out without waking up any of them. So he laid back down, smiling a bit.

Spy caused a racket the next minute, though. He was out in the hallway...wailing? Indeed, he was standing over a limp Cyprus, wailing at the top of his lungs. The Demigod looked dead. They all had slept for six hours. Cyprus had two left, and every second was hurting him.

Everyone jerked awake at that, staring around for the source of the wailing. Naybrin jerked upright, crouching on all fours for a moment before remembering that he needed to walk on just his back legs. He scrambled upright and staggered to the door, saying "Curse this new form. Apparently I was much more exhausted than I thought."

He leaned over Cyprus for a moment, then said "Hold strong, Cyprus. I will return." He turned and ran off as fast as his lanky legs would take him, trying not to fall over. He didn't care what anyone thought of him at this point; he bent and sniffed quietly along the floors, searching for faint traces of Cyprus' garden's old magic. When he found a trace, he followed it to its source, where the weak magic was the strongest.

It was outside, in the courtyard. It wasn't even at the center; it was off to the left, near the wall. There was a small amount of Cyprus' magic trapped underground. It was horrible; the aura was meant to be under a tree, where the roots could spread it to the ground and the branches could unleash it into the air. Cyprus would simply sleep in the tree and feel completely restored the next morning. But there was no tree. Just the tiled ground of the courtyard.

"What's wrong with him? Seria?" Werr looked up at the healer. Cyprus suddenly jerked awake, rolling back onto his stomach and somehow making it up to all fours, crawling a few paces away before collapsing again. He was trying to reach the spot himself, but...he just couldn't. He was dying.

Seria moved forward, helping Cyprus up, then said "He's dying. We have to get him to his garden, and quickly. Come on, let's find Naybrin." She helped Cyprus move, looping his arm over her shoulders.

Outside, Naybrin was now sitting perfectly still over the spot where Cyprus' magic was the strongest. He slowly pulled it out of the ground and into himself, now forced to move very, very slowly. He extended his powers down and out, finding any last traces of the magic and calling it to his own. He brought it all together and slowly began to walk, heading outside of the city. A green, shimmering wave followed him under the ground, dancing excitedly. It knew what he was going to do, and it was excited for it. He continued to walk, ever so slowly, out to the forest near the city. Once there, he slowly laid down in the center of a peaceful clearing, muttering words.

They ended with the words "Live again."

Life exploded around the First King, leaping into existance out of nothing. Cyprus' beautiful tree bloomed within minutes, and a gorgeous garden blossomed to life. Something else blossomed as well, however.

An ancient spell of protection, one only Naybrin knew the words too. Now, nothing could drain or cover the magic from this place.

For it had been made Sacred, blessed by the first dragon king himself.

Naybrin smiled at his work, then lowered his head and passed out, sighing contentedly.

As they dragged him closer and closer to the garden, Cyprus seemed to perk up a little more. He regained consciousness, and eventually started walking on his own. Then running. When the others caught up to him, he was crying and hugging his tree, scrambling up the trunk and settling down in the branches, still crying as he passed out again.

"Well..." Werr looked up at him, then down at Naybrin. "I guess...we wait now?"

Naybrin slept on, undisturbed by their talking. Seria bent and touched his forehead and chest, making sure he was still alive before saying "He's exhausted. Cynyr, can you..."

He wordlessly bent and picked up the ancient dragon, carrying him back towards the castle.

Welk watched him go, then said "So, do we just...leave Cyprus here?" He stared up at the man in the tree for a moment, then said "He seems fine." He pushed at Werr with his head, saying "Let's go, I'm hungry!"

"I suppose," Werr tilted his head to the side a bit. "He'll probably follow us if he wants to..." He slid onto Welk's back, smiling as they darted off to the castle again.

"Is Cyprus..." Ophile was waiting for them.

"He's fine. Naybrin had to find a way to give him more magic, obviously. And he did that." Werr shrugged. "He's sleeping now, in that tree," Werr pointed. It could be seen from the back entrance of the castle, just barely.

((Cyprus will be all upset with Naybrin, too. xD 'You overslept and nearly killed meeeee p3p'

Although, probably not. He's waaaay too forgiving. 936))

((Aww.))

Welk wiggled a bit, giving a slight sideways fidget, then said "Sorry Ophile, but breakfast is calling me. And let's just say that it is a very powerful call." He bounded inside the castle, Werr still clinging to his thick blonde fur.

Meanwhile, a shadowy figure was stalking along the halls, heading quietly towards the infirmary. He was not a friend to those inside, far from it. He was from Herrace, and he was here for only one thing.

Dmitry's life.

He was here to end as many of the Emperor's heirs as possible, and Dmitry was the highest ranking one here. Mirage was pretty much out of the running, still chained up in wyvern form in the dungeon.

The assailant slowly opened the door to the infirmary, glancing inside.

Dmitry was still laying on his bed, now slightly conscious and slowly stroking Marion's head. He was still suffering from blood loss, his skin extremely pale. His thin fingers gently carressed Marion's reptilian nose, moving almost without him knowing it.

Marion laid still, letting Dmitry stroke her. The healers were out to breakfast; there was only the oldest one here, and he was napping. The only other person in the room was Spy, who was trying to catch a rat that he had found. He had seen Marion eying it across the room, but she refused to move. So of course, being the gentle-Chimera that he was, he was attempting to fetch the small meal for her.

And of course, there was Nate, who was sleeping like a log still. His fever had receeded, and he was looking a lot better. Empty bottles of wine, bourbon and scotch laid next to his bed, most of them empty. The Dragonian was pretty far unconscious.

((This assassin is a throw-away character, I should mention. Kill him as you wish, he's just here to put pressure on stopping Herrace.

Plus, I missed Dmitry and Marion. ♥ ))

The assassin waited, watching quietly for a long moment before moving. He pulled a knife from a holster on his hip and flipped it, then pulled out a small piece of paper with the rune for 'wind' on it. He threw it quietly, watching as the scrap of paper floated in, as if on a breeze, and landed on the floor.

Immediately, all the candles in the room went out, blown to death by a sudden burst of wind.

Dmitry, sensing a foul presence, tried to sit up and winced, finding the movement too painful. "M-Marion...!" he said quietly, gritting his sharp teeth as he tried to sit up again.

The assassin struck then, flinging the door open and lunging for the prince with knife outstretched.

((o3o Good show.))

Marion moved quickly, her serpent eyes unaffected by the sudden darkness. She pushed Dmitry back down, then pushed off of him and threw herself at the attacker. The knife cut into one of her thick coils, but she clamped her teeth down on his arm, injecting a paralyzing venom that reacted almost instantly. She started wrapping herself around his arm, up until the end of her tail reached his neck. Once she had a secure hold, she acted like any other constrictor snake, only she was much stronger in comparison. Within seconds, she heard the satisfying snap of his arm a total of three times. After that, she unwound herself until she could reach the man's neck and do the same.

He fought back, but it was no use. Marion was determined to slay the man that dared attack her dear Dmitry. Her grip was a vice, the musky scent of her blood stifling. Not that the man could smell it, what with Marion wrapping herself around his head and neck, slowly squeezing until the screaming stopped and the man collapsed. Even then, she didn't release him until she heard the crack of a broken neck.

Spy was quick to dart out of the room, collecting a lit candle so he could light the ones in here. He didn't like how there were no windows in the infirmary, but he was pretty sure that had been meant for safety...regardless, he set about lighting every candle he could find, not looking at the corpse. Marion returned to human form, holding her side as blood spilled out from the new wound. She leaned against Dmitry's bed, sighing. "Didn't I say I would protect you...?" She smiled slightly at him, putting her clean hand over his.

He cursed and tried to sit up again, but he was so weak that the most he managed was a pitiful flop off the bed. When Marion bent down to him, he managed to take her hand softly, looking pained. "You..." he murmured, angry at himself for not being able to help her. "Marion..." He sighed, saying "Get healed. I won't let you die now...not now..." He seemed to want to say something else, but he merely sighed and said "Just sit still..." He concentrated, throwing his head back in pain, then his entire form grew and arched upwards.

Within moments, there was a gray-and-black wyvern laying on the ground. Wyverns were the smallest breed of dragon, so he could fit nicely in the infirmary. He pulled Marion close in his special arms, which had the wings attached right to them, and gently began to bathe her wound with his tongue. His saliva didn't have as much healing magic as a dragon's did, but it was enough, especially as he kept licking her softly, gently passing his tongue over her side.

Marion closed her eyes, wrapping her fingers around one of his claws, her other hand on his nose. "Thank you..." She murmured, looking up at him with an odd look in her eyes. Caring and compassion. She took that wound so that Dmitry would not, that much was obvious. When he was done, she curled up in his grip, pressing herself close to him. "I always liked this form better, you know..."

He exhaled, making her hair whip, then gave a slight smile and said "It must be the scales. I'm quite dashing..." He winced, still not feeling well from losing all of that blood, then turned his bright blue eyes down at Marion. He bent his muzzle again, giving a soft lick against her neck, a bit seductively. He stopped when he saw a nurse staring at him, nearly glaring but just barely stopping herself. He sighed, knowing how it looked to see the prince holding a slave so closely and tenderly, but he didn't really care at this point. The nurses never told, anyways.

He stared back down at Marion, curling his claws gently around her as he held her close. "Marion..." he said softly, putting his muzzle tenderly against the side of the naga's head.

"Oh, I wish we could just get away from this place..." Marion sighed. She then jumped and tensed when a voice spoke over hers.

"I think I understand you two a little better," Nate said from his bed, smiling a bit. "You two..." He sighed a bit, then closed his eyes again, rolling over and closing his eyes. "I'll leave you alone for now, then."

"Tch...I still don't like you!" Marion hissed.

"Don't really care too much," Nate replied with a chortle, tugging at the new collar around his neck. Werr had changed them out while he had slept. It was red now, with the emblem of Alastor on it. He wasn't a slave anymore, he could say what he wanted. Not that he really restrained himself before.

Dmitry snorted, saying "Keep to yourself, dragonian. You're lucky I let Werr switch your collars so easily. I could've demanded something in return." He turned his head pointedly, and they all knew he wouldn't really have forced Werr to do anything. He was just happy enough that Nate had gotten rescued. He touched his muzzle to Marion's cheek, then said "Come on, let's-" His voice cut off abruptly and his eyes flickered, closing before he went limp, his exhaustion from losing blood catching up to him.

Marion squeaked slightly when Dmitry went limp on top of her. She smiled and simpy pushed herself close to him, deciding to sleep a bit. No assassin in their right mind would dare go after a sleeping Wyvern.

While they slept, Lennon stopped by. He didn't do much. Just picked up the dead body and left. Nate watched. There was something...off...about that guard. Something wrong...but Nate shook it off and fell back asleep, knowing that he needed the rest.

Cyprus returned around lunchtime. He didn't say a word to anyone, not even Seria. He just sat on the bed that Naybrin had been laid on. Just watching. He seemed...better. A little more confident, perhaps. Nowhere near as shaky, at the very least. He still seemed awfully timid and nervous. That didn't seem to go away.

Naybrin slept for a long time, utterly drained from recreating the demigod's magical garden, then finally woke and slowly blinked open his eyes for a moment before closing them again. It was a solid minute before he spoke.

"Have you enjoyed your garden, dear Cyprus?"

He opened his eyes and turned his head, looking up at the demigod for a moment. For some reason, he looked dreadfully, dreadfully tired and old. He scratched his light blue stubble, saying "Goodness, how can humans stand to sleep in this second skin all the time?" He plucked at his shirt, which was still the same one Cyprus had created his human form in.