002: Messages and Maladies

[Carnelia]

The dead, cold, glare of Primus’ eyes followed me on my flight back home. He survived, and I know I should be grateful that my mate still breathes, but I am having a hard time finding my gratitude.

I want to take him into my arms and fly him back with me. I want to do a lot of things that just aren’t possible.

As I approach the closed gate, I take my fourth form, becoming a dragon made of little more than light in the shape of my winged self. I’ve only been able to take this shape in recent weeks, even with an entire kingdom of others to learn from. Despite being a universal dragon who can take the form of any other dragon I encounter, there are still a few things I need to learn the long way around.

Ona is waiting for me when I materialize within the landing dock of our closed gate. Princess Ursa, who is officially our heir, is standing by her mother, learning from her as she once learned from her grandmother, how to rule the Celestial Kingdom. After the events of the previous war, we decided that it would be wise to have more than two people with access to opening and closing the Celestial gates and also the day-to-day running of our realm. The knowledge we preserve for future generations is too important to leave to chance.

Rolling my shoulders back, I take my tallest stance, stretching my spine and extending my horns until I am at my maximum height, and using a clear, calm voice, request that the attending guards and other workers exit the room. Everyone files out smoothly, giving their monarchs their needed time alone.

All except for one--Ursa. She is standing proudly next to her mother, her attempts at seeming serene marred by a slight immature haughtiness around her eyes and mouth. Seeing that look on her face reminds me so strongly of her uncle Primus that I almost moan in pain.

It has been a long day.

As much as I have grown to love my niece, her stubborn nature, a Majere family trait, is more than I can handle at this moment. After seeing the shell of a drake that was once my husband, it is taking all of my energy not to scream at her to leave. I look towards Ursa, and then back towards Ona, my eyes still, afraid to blink, afraid to feel lest I feel too much all at once.

“Ursa, can you go check on your cousins,” Ona smiles at her daughter, dismissing her kindly so that we can be alone. “Auntie Carnelia and I need a moment."

She gives a small, tight smile. Like most young people, she doesn’t like being left out of things. She is, after all, getting close to her majority and will soon be ready to seek out her mate. She isn’t a hatchling any longer.

But she is still a child. It will be hundreds of years before she is ever called to take this throne from her mother. And one of the first lessons of any good ruler is humility.

And also grace--especially when you are upset.

A few of the plants in the room wither and die as she passes, her powers flaring with her anger as she leaves the room in a swirl of fabric, the plasma dancing along the edges of her skin.

As soon as the doors slide closed behind her. I release all the tension I have been holding inside. I am finally safe to feel, and every emotion I have been holding back pushes down on me all at once. My shoulders slump, my eyes tear, and with one deep exhale I scream so loud that the walls rattle.

“Little Sister,” Ona pulls me into her arms, wrapping me in her warmth as she pets the hair between my horns. “Tell me about it. Tell me everything.”

Crying against her shoulder, I poured out the emotions of the day: Confronting Eleanora, her demands, and Primus. Dear gods, Primus.

“So he is alive,” Ona’s clawed hand clasps the bracelet around her arm, the one made of Jade that connects her to her surviving brother. “When the bracelet went cold I..”

“Me too,” I agree, not needing to hear the rest.  Even though Eleanora claimed that she had Primus this whole time, when I had lost that feeling of connection, when my ring went cold, I assumed that he was gone, just as Ona had when her bracelet stopped transmitting. We just assumed he died in captivity and that the Luxandrian queen was lying.

“I’m not sure I would call what I saw today ‘alive,’” My lips start to quiver as I think of the hollow way he looked at me, lacking all recognition. He barely moved, and barely seemed to be aware of anything. “His eyes didn’t swirl, Ona, they didn’t glow. He didn’t recognize me. I told him about our babies and he didn’t even flinch. Not a single blink!”

My chest is moving up and down rapidly as I try to explain the horror of what I saw, my body and mind unable to find any equilibrium between what we saw and what is possible.

Primus would never leave his family to suffer like this.

“But he still breathes,” Ona’s eyes are bright with hope, glowing with red embers as she considers my expression. “Don’t be sad, Little Sister. I promised you we would get him back and that is exactly what we will do.” She pulls me in for a sideways hug, rubbing my arms, and warming me with her love and nurturing care.

“If it was just about Primus it would be hard enough, but she wants my children, Ona. It’s always been about my children,” I start to weep again, my body weak and my heart weaker. “If I didn’t know better, I’d blame her for their sickness. I wouldn’t put anything past her to make children suffer for her advantage..”

Ona nods in understanding. “She is so much like Segundus it’s uncanny. You’d think they were fated mates based on how well they balanced one another.”

Segundus was twisted and cruel. He enslaved an entire race of dragons just to power his cities. The world is a much safer place now that he doesn’t walk it.

We hold one another in silence as we think about the harm Segundus caused. The horrors we saw are things we cannot unsee even when we close our eyes. The faces of the dead left behind in those facilities follow me into my dreams.

“I have an idea, but it’s risky.” Ona takes a deep breath, shaking us free from the chill of our thoughts. “But whether we go this route will depend on how much you are willing to risk to get Primus back at your side.”

I would burn the world to have him back. But I keep that secret in my heart.

“What do you have in mind?” I say instead, my heart is racing as I consider the possibilities. I have a feeling that whatever Ona has in mind is daring, cunning, and possibly more complicated than necessary.

She looks out the window at the glowing planet below. The closed gates are the only thing keeping us from being attacked at any moment by Luxandra. They have weapons that can destroy us all, and ways to contain and enslave us. Our only advantage is our separation.

Which is why my body went completely still when she relayed the first part of her plan.

“We will also need to open the Northern Gate.”

“We haven’t opened the gate since the Starfell War,” I remind her. “And Luxandra is hardly safe enough for us to allow free passage, why would we…what would be the reason?”

“Well officially,” Ona smirks, “It would be to participate in the All Kingdom Faire in Luxandra starting at the beginning of the season. We have been formally invited, most likely because they need our technology to solve their problems, and they are hoping to gain access to it easily.”

“Unofficially,” Ona’s smile grows wider, “Our plan will be to make sure that enough of our people are on the ground to make a rescue attempt.”

“And you think the Luxandrians will fall for this? Won’t they think it is suspicious that after months of saying no we suddenly open our gates to attend a faire, one that we already officially declined?”

“Honestly,” Ona bites the end of one of her talons, “I think they’ll be so excited about the opportunity to sneak into our country and steal our secrets that they’ll ignore it if we do the same. Besides,” she shrugs, “they’ve wanted us to reopen our trade routes for some time now, we could say this is a trial run.”

“And the children? Do we need to…”

“We need to get a cure,” Ona agrees. “But we still have some time. Maybe we can…”

I feel an intense jolt of pain along my right ear, where eight small stone loops connect me to each of my children. 

The pain is so intense my body folds in half. 

“Carnelia!”

“It's the babies. Oh gods, they are in pain.”

We rush to the intensive care unit. My little hatchlings, all eight of them, are writhing in pain. 

“What is happening,” I demand of the nearest healer, whose red-scaled face goes ashen at the sight of his angry queen. “What did you do?”

“Nothing, Your Grace,” one of the other healers replies calmly.  “They all just started screaming all together. It isn’t unusual for clutchmates to be close, but if I didn’t know better, I’d swear they are feeling each other’s pain creating a loop of sorts, magnifying the effect.”

“But what set them off?” I yell. 

“Calm yourself, My Queen,” the lead healer demands, his voice stern. “For the sake of your babies, you need to calm your voice and your movements. Your anxiety is only adding to their pain.”

I place a hand on my oldest daughter, Cosima, who is a universal dragon like myself. Humming, I pet her between her nubby little horns, rubbing my fingers down her scaled spine. Her breathing starts to calm with my touch, her screams slowly fading into a whimper. 

Soon her siblings are quiet as well, the only sound in the room is their ragged breathing as they struggle between forms, neither dragonkin nor lizard.

Once they are all soundly sleeping and calm, I turn to the healers. 

“How much time do they have, before,” I gulp. “Before it is too late? Last time you said it was weeks, maybe even months but now…”

“Days,” the Draven looks at his feet, afraid to meet my gaze. “I’m sorry Your Grace, but if your babies do not receive proper care soon, they may only have days to live.”