Episode 30: “The King’s Blade"
452 Words
The king didn’t send Wardens after Episode 29.
He came himself.
We felt him before we saw him—a pressure in the bond like standing too close to a forge. The air went hot. The ground under my feet cracked.
“Vaelric,” I said.
He shifted instantly, copper wings snapping out. Nyxar’s frost rolled out in a wall between us and the ridge.
The king landed like a falling star.
Gold scales, crown of horns, eyes like molten metal. He shifted in a burst of heat, and the man who stood there looked nothing like his son. Older. Colder. Blade in hand.
“Daughter of Brindlemark,” he said. “You’ve caused enough.”
Vaelric snarled. “She’s not yours to name.”
“She’s bonded to my son,” the king said. “And to a traitor. That makes her mine.”
Nyxar stepped forward. “I’m not your traitor. I’m hers.”
The king’s gaze slid to me. To the cuff. To the faint grey scales on my palms.
“You carry the Sanctuary mark,” he said. “You’ll burn us all.”
“No,” I said. “I’ll save us.”
He moved fast for a man his size. Blade flashing.
Vaelric hit him first, copper fire engulfing the ridge. Nyxar’s ice exploded, turning heat to steam. And I—
I pulled the bond tight.
Red-gold. Ash-black. Copper. White.
The Fourth Color didn’t strike. It wrapped.
Around the king’s blade. Around his arms. Around the fire in his chest.
He froze.
Not from Nyxar’s ice. From memory.
The ghosts in the Fourth Color showed him what he’d done. The collars. The exiles. The dragons he’d broken to keep control.
“Stop,” he gasped.
Vaelric had him pinned. Nyxar had the blade.
I let go.
The king fell to his knees, gasping.
“You can’t kill me,” he said. “I’m the king.”
“No,” I said. “You’re just a dragon who’s afraid.”
I turned my back on him.
Vaelric shifted back, bleeding from a dozen small burns. Nyxar handed me the king’s blade.
I didn’t take it.
“Leave,” I said to the king. “Or next time, I won’t stop at memory.”
He looked at me. At Vaelric. At Nyxar.
Then he shifted and flew.
We didn’t speak for a long time.
Finally, Vaelric touched my shoulder. “You could have ended him.”
“I know,” I said. “But the bond isn’t about ending.”
Nyxar nodded. “It’s about holding.”
The cuff pulsed. Four colors, steady. The Sanctuary mark cooled.
And the king had just learned what the bond could do.
- Writer
