REYN

"Try again, Reyn."

What's the point when I'm not a dragon?

Lightning caressed his bloodline with draconic fervor, but never gave him such power — such a celebrated gift from his ancestor, the first Dragon King, Kolis. He listened to the soft-spoken dialect of Sungrove inlanders, a whisper of beaches instead the coarse, pebbled sand of the coastal version of their tongue. Each one of them worked as an extended family. In front of him, the protector of that family.

Lord Soren Pyren, a giant who towered over him and spread his shadow through the grass of the training field.

In the background of his annoyance stood Fenrer Pyren as he drew a child's bow. His black hair rustled in the wind dancing off the distant ocean. An arrow whizzed past the dummy when Fenrer loosed it, and he scowled in frustration.

A spitting image of his lord father, minus the beard and height.

Reyn clenched his fists and drew back to Lord Soren. His private thoughts bare for all to hear — a mouse unable to hide in a den of dragons, and wolves. Father's shadow hounded his shoulders whenever the Sungrove Auro checked him over. It meant only one thing to the King.

Weakness.

He frowned at the fencepost when Lord Soren knelt down to get on his level, but a giant knew nothing of the world of mice.

"Reyn," he said. "I can't help you if you don't let me."

I can't be helped. I'm weak. I'm not a dragon.

I will never be a dragon.

Head lowered to the giant in his path, he mumbled, "When is supper, my lord?"

Lord Soren gave him the same, thoughtful stare from before, when he found himself helpless in his large hands, off the ground in flight. "Our cook is preparing it," he answered after a few seconds of historic silence. "We are having fresh caught venison from the deeper forests of Sungrove." Soren indicated the massive hall next to the Pyren estate on the hill. Shields hung between the pillars, where stories carved on the wood.

Sungrove... known for lumber and meats... His stomach growled when he tried to recall his older brother's lessons that Father never allowed him to have, but he stopped when playful excitement glittered in the deep greens of the forest the Pyrens called home. Like father, like son.

"We need to continue with the lesson, though," Lord Soren insisted. "I know you have that power within you, Reyn. Try your best, and that is all I can ask of you."

Reyn frowned, and rubbed his elbows to ease out the prickles crawling through his skin. "I don't know..."

My best is never good enough for Father.

Fenrer glanced his way at his thoughts for mice, but he said no more, and never blurted out his thoughts. He drew his attention back to the dummy he failed to hit, a frown on his face.

I'm not a dragon.

Every change in the air kissed the small hairs on his neck when he raised his arms. It refused to spark and scream out into the world with a mighty, thunderous roar. Static whipped at his chest, a punishment and reminder that he could be nothing but a weak mouse.

I'll never be good enough.

I'll never be a dragon.

Energy tore through his veins and spilled red. Knees buckled against the grass, but he whimpered when Soren moved for him. He stood back on his feet, again and again.

"Easy, boy." Soren raised a massive hand with a smile. "Magick is not something you can, nor should force. It is a part of you just as much as you are a part of it. Internal instinct. External focus. Feel it within yourself, and unleash it upon the world."

I have nothing inside. I'll never be a dragon.

Lord Soren demonstrated his magick prowess with practiced, age-old ease. Rock glyphs shattered into packed ice, then burst into flames on the tail-end of water. Off to the side, Fenrer continued the archery lessons with increasing aim. Arrows pin-cushioned the dummy from legs to the chest, over the heart.

Air pulsed in his ears with the grinding of larger teeth when Fenrer gave him a side smile and loosed the arrow, carried by magick straight to its next mark, to put force behind the launch from the nock.

Bells chimed through Sungrove. Soren lowered his arms with a chuckle. "It seems I've lost track of time, Your Grace," he said with a sigh. "Ah, as a wise man once told me, time is ever meaningful when in the throes of fun." Reyn scrunched his nose, but dared not speak back at the older lord, and took a step back when Soren stretched. "Let's get you something to eat. You two are free to do whatever you wish, after."

Large people. Loud crowds. It swallowed his senses until he heard nothing but noise. Reyn hesitated at the edge when Soren led him and Fenrer, who looked about as ravenous as his family mark, to the mead hall.

"I don't... want to eat... around other people." Reyn tucked his hands between his elbows and kept his head low to brace himself for the punishment, for his audacity at speaking louder than a mouse. It left his tongue before he could strangle them back into the safety of stone.

"Why?" Fenrer asked in a happy tone to grate on his nerves. "No one will hurt you!"

Reyn longed to lash out, but flinched when Soren shifted.

"It's okay, Reyn," Soren said. "Fenrer, can you take him back to his room and stay with him? I'll bring up dinner for the two of you."

Annoyance dug further static teeth into his heart at the notion of the other boy hobbling in his shadow, but he dared not raise his voice in argument of being able to find his own way to the guest room. Nothing but a mouse. Never a dragon. He prepared himself for the long walk up the hill, but frowned when Fenrer considered his lord father, before folding his eyes with a twist to his lips.

"You're just going to pile a pound of vegetables on my plate so you can get all the good parts," he said with a tiny swivel to his legs. "I want to make my own plate first."

It struck against his skin with its audacity at Fenrer's draconic voice.

Lord Soren raised an eyebrow and got on their level. "Yet you never seem to balk at stealing my mashed tubers, boy." He steadied himself on his knees. "Besides, our vegetables are carefully cultivated with soil sprinkled with alchemical growth dust for maximum nutrition for growing warriors—"

Fenrer put his hands over his ears. "I don't want a pile of sprouts again! Also, tubers are different."

"Who said it was sprouts Yulana was preparing today?" Lord Soren questioned, falling into the ease of his son's resistance without punishment, instead bouncing off it. "If the food selection upsets you, I could easily request Yulana to put aside some cabbage for you."

"Worse. I want the good stuff this time." Fenrer pointed up at him in indignation. "You never let me have the bigger parts of the meat."

Lord Soren stood at his full height. "You'd never be able to wolf it down like you do everything else, Fenrer. Ancients, your appetite would punish you for trying," he said with a pat on his chest. "Maybe when you're older."

"You always say that."

Lord Soren asked, "If I promise to give you a share of my portion, will you go sit with Reyn?"

Reyn held his tongue and his quiet voice as Fenrer blinked at Soren, then continued to point. "You promise?"

"I swear."

Apparently satisfied with the answer his lord father gave him, Fenrer bounced to his side. "Let's go, Prince Reyn!"

He kept his attention on the grass which sprang with their movements, only to return to its previous state after their stomping through the pastures.

"Do you like Sungrove, Prince Reyn?"

Warm... Reyn almost sunk back into the grass beds at the glittering sun striking the face of the town among the golden knolls, swept with orange leaves deep in the boughs of the luscious forests.

"Father mentioned you can do lightning?"

Never a dragon... never able to raise my voice...

Fenrer patted his chest. "I'm an Aurus!"

Reyn zoned in on the dark band around the younger boy's forearm. He stopped at the opalescent fabric, winding in the velveteen. Fenrer hesitated with a wary twist to his cheeks. "I-I won't hurt you, I promise," he whispered, and came closer. "Y-You don't have to be afraid of me. I can control it." He tried to hide in his shoulders when Fenrer examined the area around him with a mystified emotion spreading across his brow. "Your colours are so... strong, but they slack so much." Wariness fell into concern. "Are you okay?"

Two massive stone guardians stood on either side of Fenrer up the hill steps to the estate. Hot coals burned in their eyes and deep in their throats. Up the steps, and Reyn scowled when Fenrer drew out his stupid cards. "Do you want to play again?"

Reyn ignored him to shuffle into the guest room and sat down on the floor, where he belonged, without acknowledging Fenrer, whose voice raised with wolven strength and conviction.

"Reyn?" Fenrer slid in front of him, and he shuffled to avoid his gaze. "Wait, should I be calling you 'Your Grace' like Father?"

"...No."

"Oh." Fenrer plopped himself cross-legged in front of him, eternally consistent where he wasn't wanted. "Come on. Let's play. We'll eat and then you can see you don't have to be afraid."

"I don't like eating around people."

Fenrer beamed with the blissful awareness of a puppy. "I can look away!"

He rubbed the smooth, warm floorboards. It welcomed his touch as he ran the fingertip down the oak as Fenrer laid out his cards of mockery, and waited for eternity.

Reyn dug his fingertips into the loose edges of the floorboards. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" Fenrer tipped his head, and when Reyn pointed at the cards, he straightened out, a giant. "Oh. Oh! I like the drawings. I have this large book of meanings, and it's fascinating! More fascinating than trying to remember which river goes where on a map. It all leads to the ocean, anyway." He held them out to Reyn once more, their lies taunting him from the paper-thin foundations. "Auro Ituan said he'd teach me how to read them once I'm older," he repeated his rambling excitement of mocking cards. "He also said I was a powerful Aurus." He stopped, then dug his fingers into the band. "Though I'm not sure how they... figure that out."

"An Aurus..." Reyn mulled over the word.

"I can see things no one else can. I can also hear thoughts collected into specific..." He faltered, then lowered his head. "Everyone says I'm not supposed to do that though, so I have to learn how to block it out better." He frowned when Fenrer did. "I... wish I could turn it off, sometimes. That'd make it easier on everyone."

Reyn dared say no more, unable to get his voice to roll across the room, and for Fenrer to hear him.

"Um..." Fenrer crawled back to his feet. "I can show you, if you like... If you want me to"

"How?" Another dangerous question.

"You wouldn't let Auro Ituan ease your colours," Fenrer pointed out with a weak smile. "Can... Can I try? They're... sad." Fenrer came closer. "You want to roar, Reyn, but you can't find your voice among all the brambles hurting you."

Any annoyance dripped away to awed terror at the latent ability Fenrer possessed. Father demanded Auro's treat him for his weakness, but none managed where Fenrer offered to do — to give him back his voice as a dragon. Reyn hugged himself at the idea, the beautiful, awe-inspiring idea of a louder voice, with stronger magick, to call upon his beloved lightning and to have it respond in turn.

"I-I can't and won't do it if you don't want me to!" Fenrer exclaimed. "I... I'd understand. I know my powers are scary."

Give me the voice of a dragon, it commanded from the ocean foam.

"Do you... think you could get my magick to work, at least?" Reyn dared to ask, to raise his voice.

Could... Could you give me the voice of a dragon? It no longer demanded, but begged with his hope — he couldn't demand anything.

Fenrer smiled. "Don't know until we try, right?" He held his hand out, an outreach of light.

His heart hammered electricity into a blade of his own anger. He rested his forearm in Fenrer's grip, but it dwindled into molten steel carved with lightning, and hissed in water when nothing happened.

"Um..." Reyn frowned. "Fenrer, I don't think it's..."

Opal swirls swallowed the dark green and Fenrer's expression died from confusion to emotionless terror. Reyn snapped his forearm out of Fenrer's hand when he whimpered, bringing both hands to his temples in one, too smooth motion. He took a small step back from Reyn.

"Hey..." Reyn reached to touch the other boy.

Power ripped through the roar of thunder.

Fenrer broke into tears and trembled with a quake.

Reyn pushed through the force. Images cracked along his view. Expansive shadows. Father's deepening scowl at his worthlessness. Everything. Everything. Everything. "No!" he begged and shook Fenrer. "No! If you cry he's going to blame me! Stop crying. Please stop!" Pain clutched his throat when Fenrer got out of his reach and rushed a circuit around the room, digging his fingers into his temples as the flames danced with his tears.

"It hurts." he gasped through the opalescent inferno. "Why can no one hear me? I just want someone to hear me," he begged and almost walked into the wall. "It hurts so much, all the pain... the sorrow, why can't I be good enough?" He went to another wall, and Reyn tried to stop him from throwing himself at the jagged lines of his reality.

Magick latched onto the walls and quivered the furniture. Reyn winced at the piercing blade digging deeper into his head, forming shapes out of firelit shadows. "Fenrer, stop..." he pleaded.

What's happening? I don't understand.

It pounded in his chest and strangled his throat.

"I can't breathe," Fenrer cried and writhed with pain unknown.

Heavy footsteps scattered the mice. Lord Soren walked in with two plates in his hands.

Fenrer dug his teeth into his lips, then screeched. It cracked against his ears and sputtered out the lamps. Left in darkness, Fenrer went quiet as he drew his hands in front of his face, causing Lord Soren to put the plates to the side, coming forward. "Fenrer."

Reyn pressed himself into the corner and tried to flee his pain.

A housecarl came from behind, no doubt zoned in on the scream of the young lord with a hand on a dagger.

"Fenrer," Soren insisted and came closer. "Fenrer, try and focus on my voice."

"His eyes... not like the father. Hair, black as night, not of the autumn fields. Distinct, but not possible... or maybe... Him. Friend of ages past..." Fenrer's voice changed, dissonant from his tears until the tension left his shoulders. "Dad? I hear you..." Fenrer asked through the consuming light of his tears. "... did you get me what I wanted...?" His eyes sputtered into emptiness, and Reyn shook when Fenrer collapsed onto the floor before Lord Soren could catch him.

"Fenrer." Lord Soren scrambled to draw Fenrer into his large arms. "Eyestin, get Auro Ituan, my son had an auric trance," he ordered, wide-eyed.

"Ancients forfend..." Eyestin nodded. "Of course, my lord. Right away." He disappeared back into the corridor.

"I'm sorry," Reyn gasped out, unable to breathe. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. He wanted to help. I didn't mean..." He gulped empty air and his innards threatened to leave through his throat. Wetness clutched onto his cheeks and refused to stop. Ready for annoyance. Ready for anger. Ready for punishment.

When he met Lord Soren's face, realization filled it instead.

He dared not leave his corner.

Lord Soren stared down at his son, then at Reyn before lifting Fenrer off the floor. A sense of deliberation crossed his face when Eyestin returned with Auro Ituan.

"My lord?" Auro Ituan questioned.

Lord Soren passed Fenrer to him. "Take my son to his room," he whispered and handed Fenrer's dinner plate to Eyestin. "I'll come as soon as I'm done here. I need to talk to Reyn."

He flinched at the closed door and left him in a massive shadow.

"I didn't mean it..." he sobbed.

I will never be a dragon.

Lord Soren sat in front of him, a heavy grief along his brow. "I'm not angry," he murmured. "I want to know what happened. I need you to speak honestly, and clearly. I need to hear you."

"Fenrer said he was an Aurus and wanted to help me and heal my aura." Everything screamed for silence. "I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you let Auro Ituan?"

"I..." Reyn tucked into the corner and hid his tears. "You think I can't use my magick. You think I'm weak, don't you?" Unable to resist the pain Fenrer showed through the flow of the world, he broke into sobs. "I am, aren't I? I'm weak. I can't do lightning, and without lightning I'm... I'm not a dragon."

"You are not weak, Reyn," Lord Soren said, plain as the truth. "You were born... into this world prematurely, your mother taken from you. It is going to take you a while for your magick to reach its peak. It requires inner energy which you do not have quite yet. We can work on it."

"Father says I..." He faltered at the tight expression on Soren's face, then dove past him to grab the plate, though his stomach heaved at the notion of substance he never deserved. Into the next corner, he wolfed it down through his tears. It churned with the storm in his belly.

"Reyn."

He shook his head when wetness crawled down his nose.

Lord Soren sat there as he finished his food, then put the plate to the side.

"I didn't want to make him cry..." Reyn whimpered. "He grabbed my arm... and then those horrid flames..."

I thought the world was going to immolate him in dragon fire for having the audacity to change my weakness...

"It is an Auric Trance," Lord Soren explained, though Reyn frowned at the haunted look in his eyes. "It was the pure form of the flow of thoughts and emotions. He has not learned how to process it."

Silence strangled him.

"I'm never going to be like all those people you've made strong. You can say so..."

You can give up on me.

Lord Soren frowned, then got back up. "Everyone has the capability to be strong in their own way, Reyn," he whispered. "I'll have Ituan check on you after I've looked after my son."

"Are you... not going to send me back?"

"It's a little late in the eve to think about that," Lord Soren pointed out. "You need sleep, Reyn. We'll try and form lightning tomorrow."

Reyn stared after him as his shadow took over the entire doorframe. "Do you... think I can?"

I'm not a dragon.

I can't.

Lord Soren drew his shoulders back, then gazed down at him. "I don't think, Reyn. I know you can..." The ancient heaviness returned. "You are of his blood."

You are my son by blood, but not much else.

"I..."

"Reyn, you were born with the dragon's blood," Lord Soren insisted. "You can and will call upon lightning. It will take time, but I can teach you how to unleash it." He sighed, then said, "If you need anything, tell Eyestin and he will direct you to me. I need to check on Fenrer."

Lord Soren walked out of his room, and a dragon growled in his ear and sent a rippled shock wave through his legs.