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Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #1662600
Prince Rowan is missing. The Dragonheir's suspected involvement blossoms when he arrives.
King Arlan paced the hall, ignoring the glare of his Queen, Berel. Her worrisome anger thickened the air as Sir Colten entered the hall with his report.
“The search for Rowan continues, Sire, but we’ve yet to find any sign.”
“So the King’s youngest has evaded his knights?” The Queen spat her words. “Then what use are you?”
Arlan’s glower met his Queen, which forced her to sheath her tongue, and then turned to his knight. “There are still no tracks of his leaving the palace?”
“We covered the grounds from the Palace outward, and found no sign.” Colten narrowed his eyes at the King. “It is as if he was carried away into the sky.”
Arlan hissed at Colten’s words. “Stay your mistrust of dragons, knight. They offer no involvement.”
Berel stood. “Our son learned the ways of dragons from your ‘friend’. Perhaps he taught Rowan to leave without notice.”
Arlan turned to his Queen, controlling the heat of embers behind his eyes. “Thane would no more take Rowan from me than he would take you.”
The hall resounded with a roar. Arlan ran to the window to view a dragon landing in the courtyard, crouching and folding its wings. Its scales were the color of wet clay, which marked this dragon as ‘Merouri’. Atop its back sat a lone figure. Thane.
Arlan left to meet the Dragonheir, and the others followed. 

They approached the man and beast in the courtyard. Thane stood holding his dragon staff in his right hand. His eyes held steady, their scarlet color surrounding vertical ebony slits. Their usual playful fire was missing, replaced by steadfast resolution.
“I warned you, King.”
Immediately the King’s face blanched.
“I told you any who enter the Northlands would never return.”
“How dare you!” Berel charged at him, fists poised to strike.
Thane raised his staff and blocked, but did not counter. Arlan pulled Berel away. She fell to the ground sobbing as Arlan tried to console her. Through tears and wails she pushed Arlan away, burying her face in her dress.
Colten pointed at Thane. “You dare abduct the King’s youngest!”
“He entered of his own free will, knight, but entered nonetheless. He cannot return.”
Arlan stared at Thane as a growing anger filled his heart.
“I see your anger, King. I warn you, it will only bring death upon your land and people. Do not pay it tribute.”
With difficulty the King battled the raging fire within, but it was his Queen who gave needed distraction. With tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes, Berel stood and approached the Dragonheir. He lowered his staff.
“Thane, you are my King’s friend. You gave skill to our firstborn, protection to our daughter, and knowledge to our youngest.  Knowledge  is a great thirst in Rowan, he wishes to know as much as you, and no doubt it led him to the Northlands. Surely it cannot condemn him.”
Thane’s dragon eyes softened with the plea. He turned to Merouri and began to sing a strange song accompanied with elaborate gestures. The dragon growled. Thane continued to serenade the beast, but it took a defensive stance and roared. His song changed to a more aggressive tone, as did his gestures. Thane ended with a long, mournful tone, and then hung his head. Merouri puffed smoke at Thane, then lay down.
The Dragonheir stood and faced the King. “The issue is clear to my kin. Rowan now lives in the Northlands. It is possible you may see him again, but not as your son.”
The Queen’s brow furrowed. “How can he be not our son?”
Thane sighed. “I am Dragonheir. I serve the will of dragons in the world of men. As such I am given leave of the Northlands.”
“The only way for his return,” King Arlan said quietly, “is to become Dragonheir himself. He would accompany you?”
Thane pointed his knowing gaze at the King. “He would replace me. My eyes would be his; my inheritance, his.”
Arlan stood distraught. Thane had once mentioned the passing of a Dragonheir’s inheritance.  The heir would receive his dragon eyes, his staff and other items. Thane would die and the new heir would live, serving the will of dragons in the world of men.
Rowan.
“Do not ask me to choose my son over my friend.”
Thane stood fast. “You will have no choice, King.”
Arlan placed an arm around his Queen. He paid no heed to her bemused expression as he straightened. “I would like to make request of the Northlands.”
Thane nodded. “I have come to expect such from you. Proceed.”
“If my end draws near before Rowan becomes your kin, I would ask to enter the Northlands.”
“Sire!” Colten took a step in protest.
Thane narrowed his eyes at King Arlan. “Do you know what you ask? Do you know what you leave behind with this request?”
Arlan once again looked at Berel. She smiled, solemn perception shining in her eyes. More to his surprise, it was she who answered the Dragonheir.
“We would leave behind what continues without us. When only death is left, it holds no cost to see our son again.”
“You make this request together?” Colten’s voice quivered.
Berel looked back at Colten, and then returned her gaze to the loving eyes of her husband. “I stand by my King’s side, and will forevermore.”
Thane again looked to Merouri, whose gaze did not waiver. He returned his attention to the King and Queen. “What you ask is difficult. Our land is not a grave, nor an afterlife. But I will make request.”
The King straightened. “I have faith in thee, Dragonheir, and in your kin. Please look after Rowan.”
Thane sighed. “To that, Arlan friend, I hold promise.”
With no further words, the Dragonheir mounted the dragon. They launched into the air, soaring over the walls of the courtyard. A ceremony was held for Rowan, but neither King nor Queen truly mourned his passing.

The End
© Copyright 2010 Layson A. Williams (layson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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