REYN

Harbor bells tolled through the castle. Outside the clear glass windows to his back, the waves crashed along the coastal cliffs. In the center of the platform, the dragon's throne. Everyone bowed to its majesty, its ferocity, with its centerpiece the jaws from which it was named. Reyn lowered his head, a mouse among the dragons. Father sat on the throne, both hands gripping the carved wood while on his other side, his older brother, Gustul, kept his silence.

Father eyed him while people knelt to the dragon king — all with news or requests of aid. It was up to Father to accept or deny the claims. Up to him and his ferocious claws to squeeze out the problem. He shifted in his seat while the waves licked at their fortress on the cliffs, where the Hanekan sea spread out farther into the expanse. Tall sails drifted along the foam, where little fishing knaves huddled in the safety of the massive statues on the rocks.

Pyren and Kolis, hands raised with the giant braziers set alight, a waymarker to the heart of Sivaport, where the lighthouse grew itself from the center of the castle. He twisted around when a ship sailed into the harbor from below.

"Sit still and face forward, Reyn," Father growled when Roaldel, a housecarl, guided out the patrons.

Reyn sank back into his chair, legs hanging over the edge. Too small for the seat. He toyed with his tunic, but weakness spread through his arms, so he rested them in his lap with a sigh. Forgotten, he tried to listen to the words below. Aches slammed into his temples, but he bit down on his complaint to avoid the strike.

His appetite never sat still. Reyn pressed his finger against the table, where every knot in the wood caught against his skin. A chip fell off into his palm, and he dropped it to the ground as the heavy etched doors swung open into the throne room.

Father's High Marshal, Soren Pyren, the Lord of Sungrove.

His footsteps echoed through the stone, louder than all. A giant, bearded warrior, where the mark of a wolf swung from a side braid along his hairline. He stopped at the edge of the royal platform, and brought a hand to his chest. "You called for me, Your Grace?"

"Lord Soren," Father said. "You took longer than usual. Were you caught on the road? Raiders from the marshes?"

"Raiders know better than to attack my lands." Green steel filled Lord Soren's gaze as he came closer, onto the first step. "It would be the Derelicts I'm worried about. Without a Warden outpost, I'm afraid we're going to see some losses come the storm season."

Father switched his attention to Gustul, who snapped from his doze. "Get out of here."

Reyn went to slip out of his seat, but terror clutched his heart when Father scowled at him. "No. You will stay here."

Back in the chair, he frowned as Gustul rushed for the door, bumping into Lord Soren, who gave him a friendly smile. He hesitated on the edge, an expression of sympathy on his face before he disappeared, and Roaldel closed the doors without another word.

He remained with two giants who'd crush him if he spoke out of turn.

"I heard your son's an Aurus," Father said as he wrote something down on parchment. "Is it true?"

Lord Soren frowned. "It is true, Your Grace. I know, by the law, I must have him wear the band. Is that why you summoned me?"

Band? What band? Reyn frowned at the giant lord.

Father clicked his tongue at a quiet castle worker in the corner, who bustled from behind to push a thin package into Lord Soren's large hands with a nervous bow.

"That isn't the only reason I summoned you here today, Lord Soren," Father said. "From this moment forward, I wish for you to be a Magistera to Reyn."

"What?" Reyn exclaimed, but pushed his fingers into his mouth to bite down on them. Father glowered at him, while a dragon in his head growled with malice.

"I'd be honored to take him as a ward, Your Grace," Lord Soren said. "But what happened to his other Magistera?"

"He's far behind for his age. He can barely write, struggles to read simple texts," Father said with a sharp tongue. "Auro's have been unable to teach him — so I want a firmer approach. How long are you staying in Sivaport?"

Everything in him screamed, cried, rejected while words mixed along itself on parchment while he sniffed and couldn't put the words to the paper in his mind.

Lord Soren pursed his lips. "It'd be easier if I could take him to Sungrove, Your Grace."

"If possible, I wish for him to remain here," Father grunted. "I don't need the embarrassment."

Lord Soren gazed at him. He tipped forward, then said, "Come here, Your Highness."

Reyn shook his head and sank into his seat and the waves.

"You'll do as Lord Pyren tells you, Reyn Kolis."

You're weak. You're my son by blood, but don't delude yourself into thinking you're good for anything else.

Reyn slipped out of his chair and stood in front of Soren Pyren, craning his neck back to stare up into the tallest stone arches of painted dragons and wolves. Lord Soren knelt on his level, and he bit on his tongue when Lord Soren scooped him from underneath the arms to examine him. He swung his legs in slow motion, unable to feel the ground for a mouse, but he stared at the stone and longed for an escape from the maw of beasts.

"You're grown quite a bit, Reyn," Lord Soren said, but Reyn shook his head.

"How is your son, Lord Soren?" Father asked from his throne.

"He's well," Lord Soren said. "Reyn, can you look at me?"

Reyn lifted his head, but ducked back after the terrifying second of meeting a giant in the eyes. For a fleeting second, a twinge of confusion settled within the greens, but Soren placed him back on the ground.

"I beg your leave to take my new ward someplace where we can start," Lord Soren said. "I thank you for this honor, Your Grace." Fist against his heart, he bowed low, where his long gambeson followed the motion. "I'm not one to tally long."

Father dismissed them with a handwave, and Reyn followed Lord Soren out of the throne room. Into the warm stone walls of Sivaport castle, he hid in the shadows of a giant.

"Reyn."

He hugged himself and shuffled past Lord Soren when he stopped.

"Reyn."

He dreaded the disapproval and disappointment of his existence.

"You know this will only work if we both communicate," Soren said above him. "You can talk to me."

Reyn refused to lift his voice higher than a squeaking mouse.

Castle servants bustled past when Lord Soren took back the lead through the dark stone corridors. Reyn peered at his back, where a blade strapped along his shoulders. He sucked in his lips and refused to echo his voice along the stone.

"Reyn."

Taller than life. Taller than the stone walls which trapped him. Soren knelt to his level, no place for a giant. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I haven't heard you talk whenever I come here. I want to hear what you have to say."

It's safer if my voice is nothing more than a mouse.

Soren urged him into a magick study dome. Tomes lined the shelves, but the words swirled and mixed along the curves. He hugged himself and stood in the middle of the room, with all his failures around him.

Soren sat down in front of him, but still too large for a mouse. "Your Lord Father mentioned you struggle to read and write?" he asked without judgment. "Is something proving difficult for you?"

Reyn slipped to his knees and gripped his sides. "I'm stupid. You can say that I am. Others younger than me can write and read better than I can."

"I won't say anything like that," Soren said with a deeper frown. "Just... try to explain to me what it is you find difficult. Try and show me what it is you struggle with, and I can see if there's a way around it."

Reyn drew in the dirt. "I don't want to..."

Soren smiled. "I need you to speak up, son."

Son.

"I don't want to."

"Do you not want to do this right now?" Soren asked. "I can't... read minds, Reyn. I won't know what you want or need unless you tell me." Reyn held his arms and winced at the exhaustion within Lord Soren's crinkled brow. He readied himself for sharp words and disappointment, but Soren stayed on the ground with him. "Reyn, I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."

"My last magistera gave up on me," Reyn mumbled. "You're going to, so..."

"I'm not exactly a Magistera," Lord Soren pointed out. "You're my ward. I'm going to teach you a lot more than what you think. Show me what you can do."

He had nothing.

Useful for nothing.

I'm not a dragon.

Reyn faced Lord Soren, who studied him close. He held out his hands and focused on the crackling power in his veins. The inner roar of his family. We are the lineage of dragons. He hauled himself onto his knees. In us, from the great Kolis, who journeyed through the skies, the first Dragon King.

Father never let him forget he wasn't blessed.

Static crackled in the air, and his world spun as he sank to the dirt, nothing more than a mouse. He gasped for air as it caught the bile in his throat, and Soren rushed over to his side. Reyn tried to crawl out of his way, but stopped when Soren gripped his forearm, tiny in his large hand.

"Don't force it, Reyn."

Reyn sat there, small in Soren's grip as he choked the air instead. "I'm just not good enough..."

"Look at me," Soren's voice changed.

Reyn looked at him.

An old, haunted expression flitted through the greens as he slowly released him. Lord Soren breathed deep. "Reyn, when was the last time the Court Healer looked over you?"

His head throbbed and he pressed his hand against his temple. Fog fluttered at the edge of his vision, and he sat against the bookshelves with his knees against his chest.

"I'm hungry..." His stomach complained and threatened to release all over Soren's boots. "I want to stop..."

His voice refused to echo.

"Reyn."

"I don't want to." Reyn clung onto the wall on his trembling knees, while Soren followed with one steady motion.

"I see... well, if you're hungry, I want you to go get something to eat," Lord Soren said and ruffled his hair in gentle sweeps. "You know where to find me if you want to try again. You're ashen, and I'll see if I can't convince your father to allow you safe passage to Sungrove for your training."

"Sun...grove," he tasted the words in Hanekan.

"Yes, my lands," Soren said with a happier nod. "I think you'd like it there."

Reyn waited while Soren disappeared.

Father won't be easily convinced. Father is a dragon.

'You're weak.'

I'm hungry.

He snuck around corridors and behind pillars to avoid Father's housecarls, heading to the kitchens on the lower levels of the castle. Reyn slipped through the storeroom, where massive boxes were locked with runes, while on the other side, a door shut closed the freezer room. Icy mist slipped off the stone frame which kept their food preserved for the next meal. On the other side of the curtain, voices laughed and told stories of the ocean. Reyn peeked through the curtain while the castle workers passed plates and shared all they had with each other.

Reyn slid through the curtain.

Every pair of eyes turned to him.

Horrible nerves clawed through his throat at their attention.

"Prince Reyn," the head cook whispered.

Reyn avoided them, back to the wall to grab a plate near the hot ovens. Utensils piled on, he grabbed some bread and shoved himself into a corner. He ignored the cooks while his stomach swirled. He ate alone, and dared not interrupt the cracked conversation between the kitchen staff.

His voice never rolled along the stone or the sky.

He'd never carry the power of the dragons no matter what Lord Soren tried.

Lightning rejected him and burned his blood for his audacious attempts at magick not meant for him.

'You were lucky to be born with a drop of the dragon's blood.'

Reyn hid in the shadows, unable to remember the songs everyone shared. Unable to pick out their rhymes, their joy and pride. Mother, a faceless shadow who died for his existence. Did she feel the same way about me? That I'm not a dragon? Is that why she's gone? He gripped the plate and swallowed on the salty spray within the castle. Finished with the stories, he placed the plate into one of the runesinks and shuffled out of the kitchen.

He no longer tried to avoid Father's housecarls as he made his way back to his room.

Small, out of the way, like him. Woozy, he crawled into bed and took shelter underneath his scratchy blankets.

Lord Soren is going to leave.

I'll never be able to leave.

Hours in silence, he jolted when heavy footsteps sounded down the corridor. He bustled over to his desk to cling onto it for support when a shadow loomed in his doorway.

Father, draped in the dark.

"Lord Soren has convinced me to release you for a small amount of time to learn at Sungrove," Father growled.

Reyn clung onto the desk.

"You're fortunate he's an insistent man," Father continued. "He thinks you have potential, but I'm not holding my breath."

Reyn studied his rough boots.

"Look at me," he said, with none of Soren's softness and understanding.

I don't want to look.

Shadows fluttered in the light of the single lamp in his room without a window to the sea. He raised his head to the man who called himself the Dragon King.

"If anyone can get something out of you, it is Soren Pyren," Father grumbled. "You will go with him and listen. He's a respected Marshal and and his family have been Jarls of Sungrove far longer than our kingdom's been in existence. Don't ruin the reputation he has. Get your things ready for the trip."

Father slammed the door.

Reyn crawled underneath the desk and shut his eyes from the headache.

Dreams came to him.

A mockery of his life.

He awoke to grand mountain peaks, where dragons held their wings to the wind. The largest, a dragon of pitch and ember touched scales, with a gaze as hot and intense as lightning.

Weak.

Never a dragon.

Reyn curled on himself while the ground sang with their windbeats and calls.

Dragons roared, he didn't.

He was a mouse.

The black dragon stared down at him, whose wings shadowed the clouds when they stretched outwards.

"Go away." He held himself. "I know I'm not a dragon."

Wind caressed his cheek, and when he stared into the lightning, Father's rage disappeared into something different.

He always woke up weaker than before. Never a dragon. Only a mouse.

I'll never be anything else.

Strength. Lightning. None of it was his.

I'm a weak, stupid mouse who can only hide to avoid being swallowed by dragons. Reyn sniffled and fought for any strength he had left in his bones. Magick burned in his chest, but it refused to come to the surface.

'You can't force this, Reyn.'

Reyn focused harder on the power, but he cried when it pierced through his chest with a static jolt. He curled deeper into the shadows of his desk, and waited for the dawn he couldn't see as crinkled air buzzed around his shoulders, and never came to life with a roar of thunder.