Bhria

They were going to lose.

Having watched the whole scene from behind the grip of the male who held her, Bhria watched helplessly as the Dralaq stood at the edge of Phlague's blade, ready to meet her fate. Doomed to watch was she and the Dralan, who roared desperately, furiously, enraged from underneath the stone from whence he was trapped.

On the far side, Callath laid unconscious still, though his body had stirred a few times. There was a cut near his hairline where rubble had hit, knocking him out cold during the blast from the war machine. The open sky was visible above them, the calm blue such a strange, peaceful sight amidst all the chaos and impending death.

This was it. The good had lost and darkness had won, even if the sun above them shone such hopeful rays. This was how they would meet their end.

Closing her mind to the surrender of death, Bhria tried to remember all the good, the great things she had experienced in this life, burying away all the horror. For if she was to die, she wanted to die with a thought of happiness in her mind, a reminder of love in her heart—and as if calling to her, that's when her eyes found Callath.

His eyes had opened, groggy as they were, but as if her heart had called to him, he slowly came to and saw the horror laid around him. His gaze went from confusion to painful, to resolve, to acceptance in only a few seconds. His head was leaking blood and his strength was still coming back to him, but not fast enough to help the situation. He lay partially buried beneath a few pieces of rubble, rubble easily removed, yet at this moment, it was not that which weighed him down.

Letting his eyes meet Bhria's, they called out to her with love, with nothing but sweet, gentle longing as they stayed separated in this final moment. His eyes promised peace, promised to find her in the afterlife, to love her just as fiercely there as he had in this.

And with a silent smile, Bhria promised him the same. Their time together had been too short here, ruled by fear and held by back war and duty. They had only just begun to explore their love, but oh... death would not be the end of it. They would meet again on the other side, and there, nothing would keep them apart.

That was her only comfort as death slowly ticked closer with every second.

Bhria slowly closed her eyes, preparing to feel the blade at her neck pierce her and take away her final breath. In her mind, she prayed not for a miracle, but for the ones she loved. Her most precious and loyal male, Callath, who had loved her like no other male could. The sweet and merciful Dralaq who had taken it upon herself to treat her like a sister and condemn her to be family, a warmth she never knew she needed. And finally, her heart went out to her flesh and blood, her brother, who if he still was alive, would never recover from her death. She prayed for The Blithesome Miss to ease his comforts, to bless him with a love so great, he should never feel sorrow again. Darling Byhron.

"NOO!!!"

A roar like nothing else erupted and suddenly pierced the room. All eyes drew to it, for it was not the anguish of the Dralan, nor the last painful cry of the Dralaq before Phlague's sword pierced her. Instead, they all saw a ray of shiny metal catch the sun's reflection and burst through the room like an angel had descended.

And there, as if come from nothing, stood none other than Byhron.

Blade heavy in hand, dripping with blood, he pierced through the room and pushed straight towards Phlague himself, who looked just as surprised as the rest of them to see this new male enter the room. From whence he had come, none of them knew. Yet as Bhria caught the look in his eyes, a scream erupted from her mouth.

"Byhron, no!" She cried at the top of her lungs, fear seizing her like never before. It pierced her heart like a knife as she saw her only living relative run towards the most dangerous male alive—with absolutely no fear of dying.

Phlague, despite his back being turned to Byhron's assault, turned faster than a lightening strike, and met Byhron's heavy blade. Their swords clashed and suddenly, the room was a battlefield again, blood and metal flying through the air.

Bhria, who did not dare blink, saw from the corner of her eye as Callath staggered to his feet, grabbing his blade and stabbing it swiftly through the three unconscious males beside him, assuring their awakening would never come. Then, on unsteady feet and still bleeding from his head, he made his way towards his Dralan who roared fearsomely and began pushing at the stone wall again. As Callath crouched down and used his remaining strength, together the two males roared and heaved the heavy stone off the Dralan's body.

For one, brief, shining moment, hope returned to Bhria's body. For as she watched the Dralan crawl out from under the heavy stone wall and reach for his sword, the possibility of victory returned to her heart. She saw the Dralan steady himself and clasp his friend's shoulder, giving him a brief nod of assurance that now, freed as he was, together they would end this. Phlague's time was at an end, and death would be his only future.

But then, she heard it.

A sound so horrid, it would forever haunt her as Bhria's eyes now turned back to the fight at hand and saw it happen before her.

A single second was all it took—one moment, both males were fighting, roaring, metal against metal... and then, metal struck body.

The whole room froze as the shiny metal cut through solid matter and pierced through to the other side, dripping with red.

And as both males split apart, one came out victorious.

Byhron's sword fell from his hand as he slowly backed away. His eyes met Bhria's for the briefest of moments... before they dropped down to the sword sticking out of his abdomen.

Bhria screamed as she had never screamed before. Watching the sword stuck through her brother, she felt it as if it was her own body, her own heart—the life draining from her as Byhron now lost his balance and toppled over, falling to the ground with a heavy sound. His throat bobbed as blood began to fill his mouth, his life draining before Bhria's eyes.

"Noooo!!!" She screamed, her voice piercing through marrow and bone as her anguish filled the air. Heaving sobs came from her, her heart unable to fathom what had happened, unable to accept it—yet as Byhron laid on the floor, blood pooling from his stomach, there was no question about it.

Fueled by rage, anger and dispair, Bhria's mind left her body and her soul took over; The whole room left stunned by the actions, Bhria seized the moment to grab the blade from the male who held her. Resting at her throat, Bhria tore it from his hand and sprung free from his loosened grip, and within seconds, she was within reach.

Blade raised, she screamed, blinded by rage and grief, and struck her target and pierced through skin before he even saw it coming.

Facing the Dralan and Callath, viewing them as his only threat left in the room, he saw not how Bhria jumped and pierced the blade straight through his shoulder. Not until the knife stuck out the other side did he roar in pain, but by then it was too late.

The Dralan and Callath jumped into action, fueled by her assault, and took over as battle ensued. The Dralan jumped straight for Phlague, who was momentarily weakened by his injury, and struck him hard to the ground. Callath swung around him and pushed Bhria aside, just as the male behind her tried to reach for her with his sword. Callath met him instead with his own blade and pierced it upwards into the male's chest. Like Byhron, he fell sideways, dead.

Bhria felt arms come around her and recognized the soft touch as the Dralaq's. She was embracing her from behind, crying softly in pain for her, but Bhria refused to surrender. She broke free from her arms and ran towards Byhron, falling to her knees beside him while the fighting continued behind her.

"Byhron!" She cried, cupping his face to see his blurry eyes clinging to the last bits of life. "Byhron!!!"

Behind her, she suddenly heard a roar. The Dralan's voice boomed as swords pierced the air and struck Phlague's weakened body. He fell to the floor with a growl, bleeding and defeated.

The Dralan held his sword to the tip of his throat. "You shall not die yet," He growled angrily. "Your death is not mine to deliver, even if it is tempting. You deserve to bleed to death for all your wrongdoings... but it is not the will of The Blithesome Miss."

"Coward!" Phlague spat, coughing up blood as the Dralan scoffed at him. "Cannot even finish what you started! You are a pathetic male, and your son will be pathetic too. You can kill me, but others will rise in my place."

"And they shall meet the same fate," The Dralan spoke back sternly, watching Phlague hiss back up at him. "The Blithesome Miss will show you no mercy as I will."

Just then, a hoard of footsteps came through the doors to the chamber. To their luck, it was a platoon of Lathras, all bloodied and bruised, but ready for more battle. One of them Bhria recognized as Luhkas, Byhron's superior and friend. At the sight that met them, all the Lathras cursed and drew their swords.

"Take this filth away," The Dralan ordered, pointing his sword at Phlague's throat. "But keep him alive, do you hear me? However sorely tempted you are, you shall keep him breathing until the proper time when I can deal with him. That is an order, Lathras."

All the Lathras seemed disgusted by the idea of keeping him alive, but they nonetheless listened to their master, the Dralan.

Stepping forward, they cuffed and secured Phlague, before dragging him out of the room, his curses heard all the way down the hall and stairs.

"This war will never end!!!"

Bhria blocked it all out as her focus now remained solely on Byhron. The war was won, Phlague was captured, yet the taste of victory never filled her body as she watched Byhron struggle to keep his eyes open. "Byhron!"

His mouth moved slowly. Through gurgling and a pained swallow, he looked up at her and offered a weak smile. "I... fi... fin...ally... s... saved... you."

"No, Byhron, no!" Bhria cried hopelessly. "You cannot die! You are not done yet, I cannot do without you!"

"Bhria," It was Callath's soft voice beside her. His touch was on her shoulders, trying to soothe her, but there was nothing that would quell her anguish in this moment.

"No!!! Byhron, you must drink!" Bhria cried, ripping up her sleeve and cutting her wrist with the edge of her fang. Holding it over his lips, she let her blood drip down into his mouth, but despite his weak swallows and gurgles, nothing happened. His wound did not begin to heal, nor did the life return to him.

"Bhria, Dahna..." Callath's sweet voice whispered to her, trying to convey what was already apparent.

"Nooo!!!" She sobbed, refusing to give up. Her brother who had fought for her her whole life. Her brother who had suffered more than she, who had held on to a misplaced guilt and let it eat him up from within for so many years... this could not be his death. This could not be all that life had to offer him.

How could The Blithesome Miss be so cruel?

"Please..." She begged, sobbing as it hit her. Byhron's eyes began to close. "Byhron, please... please..."

"No blood will heal him now," Callath whispered, slowly grasping her wrist and pulling it from Byhron's mouth. "Your blood is strong, dahna... but no blood is strong enough for this."

Bhria's sobs dried out at Callath's words. Her blood was strong, but no blood is strong enough for this...

Except one kind.

"Ahrron," She whispered slowly, before sitting up straighter, looking at Callath as if lightening had struck her. "He needs Ahrron! Find him!!!"

Confusion hit Callath, and he looked at her with a raised brow. "Ahrron... but why—"

"Find him NOW!" Bhria cried, and no sooner had she yelled it before the Lathras from before returned. She looked at them as they entered, meeting Luhkas' gaze. "Bring me Ahrron this instance!!!"

Luhkas' eyes widened, but unlike Callath's they were not filled with confusion. Instead, he turned on his heel and ran as fast as he could.

There was no saying whether he would be back in time, but Bhria refused to quit. She once more placed her wrist over Byhron's lips, forcing more blood down his mouth to buy him time.

Her blood might not be strong enough to save him, but the more she fed him, the less he bled out.

"Don't give up, Byhron," She whispered, rubbing his pale cheek and stroking his hair to try and keep him awake, even if his eyes were shut. "Help is coming. You will live."

"Bhria, I don't understand," Callath murmured behind her. "This is futile, blood cannot bring someone back from the brink of death. You have to let him go."

Suddenly, there was a gasp behind her. Bhria looked up and saw the Dralaq's eyes widen with understanding, before she turned and looked at the Dralan.

"You will not say anything," She whispered to him, steeling him with a rough glare. "You are Dralan, but in this moment, you will not be. You will be my dear friend's friend, and nothing more."

"What do you mean?" The Dralan rumbled.

Just then, footsteps came rushing up the hallway. Bhria sucked in a breath and nearly cried in relief as she saw Luhkas in tow with Ahrron who could hardly keep up. He was clutching his chest in agony, yet no wounds pierced him.

But Bhria understood.

The second they entered the chamber, Ahrron's eyes found Byhron's body. With a stagger, he fell to his knees, hand still clutched over his heart as tears fell from his eyes.

"Byhron..." He let out a strained rasp.

As if awoken from his death's lullaby, Byhron's eyes sprung open at the sound of Ahrron's voice. Blurred and hazily, they sought him out and finally widened as they saw him there. "A... ah...rron..."

"He needs your blood!" Bhria rushed, pushing Ahrron towards him with urgency. "Please, only you can heal him! You know you can!"

Ahrron was speechless for a moment, but not more so than Byhron, whose eyes shifted to Bhria's with astonishment. He stared at her for so long, but Bhria did nothing but smile softly, brokenly.

"Only the blood of a true mate can heal a dying soul," Bhria whispered, before moving Ahrron towards him.

A single tear fell from Byhron's eye. He had no breath left to speak, but his eyes spoke plenty. No love would ever separate them again, wrong or not.

Vhral or not.

Ahrron lifted his wrist and cut it open with his own fang. Then, gently placing it over Byhron's lips, he leaned down and stroked his cheek. "Drink, my love."

Byhron's lips clasped on like a starved male. With the last of his strength, he groaned and swallowed the male's blood, taking from him that which held the only life left in him.

All eyes in the room watched in silent astonishment as a male fed another male, their tender embrace and love for all to see. The Dralan didn't speak a word but instead looked to his female who gave him a stern glare. The Dralan nodded back and instead embraced her, placing a hand over her belly.

Callath, who finally saw what Bhria had seen all along, exhaled slowly and then proceeded to lean down and kiss her hair gently. Bhria cried softly, accepting his comfort as he pulled her tighter.

The whole room was quiet as the war raged on below them, but none of them moved as they watched with bated breath for Byhron to finish drinking.

Finally after a grueling eternity, Byhron's fangs detached and Ahrron gasped as his strength faded. His head fell to the floor in exhaustion, eyes closed, lips smeared with blood. Ahrron, weakened by his blood loss, seemed unsteady as he reached for Byhron's heart, placing a hand over it tenderly, yet earnestly. He listened, as did the room, for Byhron's breath to take strength, for his heart to find its rhythm, for the wound in his stomach to close up.

Bhria couldn't breathe. She suspected that Ahrron wasn't either. All of them waited, waited... any moment now...

Sweet Miss, have mercy on him, Bhria closed her eyes as tears fell, praying with all her might the great Miss might find pity on him. Grant him another chance. Grant him a chance to live and love, properly.

A sharp gasp then filled the room. Everyone reacted, moving forward, Bhria's eyes springing open as she heard her brother gasp for his breath, coughing weakly as his eyes opened.

"Byhron!" She exclaimed, seeing his face screw up as air entered his body. Ahrron clutched his face desperately, but then looked down at the wound in his stomach.

– It was closing up, slowly, but surely.

A cry of join and relief fell from the male as he leaned in, kissing Byhron's forehead and saying a quiet prayer over him. Bhria broke out into heaving sobs as the whole room unclenched, realizing what was happening.

The blood had worked. Byhron, still pale as a corpse and beyond weakened, drew in breath after breath as Ahrron's blood coursed through his vein, the blood of his Amorsa, and healed up his fatal wounds. With every second, his life was returning to him.

"Thank the Miss," Ahrron spoke so heavily, so gravelly, he sounded like a different male; A male who had almost died as well, who had come back from the grave and tasted the same fresh air as Byhron.

"The Miss makes no mistakes," Leyla whispered gently, looking up at the Dralan with a soft smile.

The Dralan met her gaze, then shifted it to the males on the floor. Pressing his lips together, he then stepped out of his Dralaq's embrace and knelt down to the two vhrals. Ahrron, who usually was not allowed to meet his gaze and shared a tense past with the Dralan, looked at him warily now as the Dralan of the land knelt down next to the two of them.

"I have witnessed many things in my life," He then spoke solemnly, looking between Ahrron and Byhron. "But today, I witnessed something I never thought I'd see."

Ahrron pressed his lips together as Byhron wheezed out a quiet breath. Ahrron clenched his lover's hands, then turned towards the Dralan. He slowly opened his mouth to speak, but the Dralan merely raised his hand.

"The Dralaq speaks truthfully," He spoke, meeting Ahrron's eyes, before looking down at Byhron. "The Blithesome Miss makes no mistakes. What happened here today was meant to be. I do not yet see how, but I know that any male who's willing to lay down his life to save his sister..." He looked up at Bhria, who listened with tears in her eyes to every word the Dralan spoke, "knowing well and truly he may be separated from his... lover for all eternity," He looked back at Ahrron. "Is an honorable male meant to live and breathe. No matter who he loves."

Byhron coughed again, but this time it didn't seem as if he was struggling to breathe. His eyes were glassy as Ahrron squeezed his hand again.

"Thank... you... my lord," He rasped out through ragged breaths.

The Dralan gave him a long nod; as close as a bow as ever anything was. His eyes then fixed on Ahrron, steeling him with a strong look. "And you. Knowing what was at risk, you stepped forward to save your beloved. Knowing what the law says and the consequences thereof."

Ahrron clenched his jaw, but didn't lower his gaze. "I accept any punishment of what may befall from this."

The Dralan stared at him a moment longer, before he slowly smiled. "Love should never be punished."

And with that, he laid a hand on Ahrron's shoulder, squeezing it firmly. Ahrron's jaw dropped in astonishment, at a loss for words as the Dralan arose again and returned to the Dralaq's side.

"Many will be punished today, but no one in this room," He declared, seeing his Leyla smile at him with so much love and adoration, it almost overwhelmed even Bhria. She cried softly, falling against Callath who kissed her gently; comforting her as much as the Dralan's words.

Phlague was captured. Byhron was safe. Ahrron was pardoned. All was well, but there was a war yet to be won. Their leader may have been caught, but below them, brave males were still dying as they fought to overcome the last of Phlague's males.

"I want you all to stay here as Callath and I return to the grounds below," The Dralan now spoke, looking towards Callath who nodded. "I need to see what the situation is and how much is left to be handled. Ahrron, I trust you with my life and future."

Ahrron nodded back, looking towards Bhria and Leyla, meeting their smiling, calm faces; They trusted him fully to keep them safe.

"Dahna," The Dralan turned to Leyla and kissed her lips. "I will see you before too long."

"Stay safe, my Dralan," She whispered back, stroking his hair.

Callath softly squeezed Bhria, who looked up and found him looking down at her. He smiled warmly and brushed her cheek. "I will be back by your side before you start to miss me."

Bhria smiled back, before allowing Callath to lean down and kiss her as well. The two males then pulled away from their females and gave a last look to the two other males in the room, before nodding and departing.

Bhria kneeled down to her brother's side and saw him looking up at her, the faint joy in his gaze as he laid eyes on her.

"You damned fool," She whispered with a smile, before stroking his pale cheek.

"It's what I keep telling him," Ahrron agreed, chuckling quietly. "A damned fool," He whispered before leaning down and kissing his lips tenderly. Byhron weakly kissed him back.

Bhria's eyes met Leyla's, and as the two females' gaze connected, Bhria knew they were thinking the same thing.

No matter what happened from here on out, one thing was certain.

After today, a new dawn would rise; A new time for Drala had begun.