Under Crimson Rain (Book Two)

⋆˖☽ Chapter 17 ☾˖⋆

I pushed the door open, inch by painstaking inch, the hinges groaning in the silence. My heart raced a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Inside, a smoldering bronze brazier dominated the center of the room, its flames dancing beneath a grand overhead chandelier to cast a warm, flickering glow. Almost involuntarily, my feet carried me across the threshold, pulled by a gravity I couldn't explain.

The sweeping stone walls were paintings of the past... of the hidden truth. They depicted dragons and humans not as enemies, but as kin, coexisting just as they still do in Luminethra. I paused in front of a massive mural, my breath catching at the sight of two familiar dragons: Zarina and Enkarthos. Above their majestic forms, a vivid, crimson moon hung large and ominous, painted with such realism it almost seemed to bleed into the sky.

Emeric's voice brushed my ear, the ghost of a memory: "The fire of fate... and our deepest desires." My gaze fell back to the painted forms of the great beasts. "It seems fate was cruel to you both," I murmured to the empty room.

A prickle of heat flared at the base of my skull, an ancient, thrumming warmth that surged straight through my veins. It is not always as we perceive it, child.

I gasped, my eyes widening. "You... you responded?"

A deep, rumbling warmth echoed through my mind. Yes. It seems I was able to.

Why this time? I wondered, nodding slowly as my eyes traced the curve of Zarina's painted wing. The firelight played tricks on the stone, making the shadows flicker and dance around the mural, as if the great dragon was breathing. I had longed to hear from Enkarthos... but seeing Zarina sparked a different kind of ache.

"Do you miss her?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, ringing too loud in the quiet chamber.

Silence followed. My gaze dropped to the worn stone floor, my voice fracturing into a fragile whisper. "Are you still there?"

Mmm, yes, the deep voice returned, thick with an ageless sorrow. I was merely lost in my thoughts.

"About Zarina?" I pressed.

I was... remembering. The deep resonance of his voice softened. The wind against our wings. The way the sun caught the gold in her eyes. Memories are a different kind of haunting.

Before I could stumble through an offer of comfort I didn't know how to give, he shifted the weight of the conversation. How are you feeling?

"Fine." The word slipped out a little too quickly. I side-stepped to the next towering mural along the wall—the first Aurelian Man, his painted crimson hair a mirror to Mikaeus's.

How are you truly feeling, child? His telepathic voice was calm, anchoring me with its deep, undeniable tenderness.

My fingers curled against my thighs, nails biting into my palms. "I do not..." The tension broke, and the fight drained out of me, leaving me hollow. "...know." I stared at the painted man, trying to untangle the knot in my chest. "Everything is just jumbled. It is overwhelming. Ondina and Mikaeus look at me as if I am about to shatter at any second. Yet, Ondina herself is the one breaking right in front of us. And I... I do not know how to fix it."

It would be impossible for you to fix everything, child, Enkarthos rumbled, a soft vibration behind my eyes. You are not the architect of their burdens, only your own. And Emeric... how does he make you feel?

I bit my lower lip hard enough to taste copper. "He hates me." I met the painted dragon's eyes. "As I hate him."

But does he truly? Hate and care can wear very similar masks, especially in the young. It is okay to not understand it now; you will learn as you walk this path. Let yourself feel, Alanah. Find what you truly desire... something more enduring than just revenge.

"Revenge," I echoed, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "You know it is more than that. The thought of the Vow releasing those monsters..." I trailed off, stepping toward a scene of humans and dragons standing shoulder-to-shoulder in peace. "Do you truly believe we can fix what has been broken? That all humans will just accept dragons once the Vow is finally handled?"

There will always be brokenness in the world, Enkarthos answered.

My fists clenched again. Then what is the point? The empty silence amplified my doubt. We will all just remain broken.

But there will always be light in the darkness to meet it, his ancient voice continued, answering my unspoken despair. There are others like you who will fight for what is right, even when the dawn seems entirely hopeless. I believe in you, Alanah, and the allies gathering around you. When you work together, you can accomplish things that may seem as if you are defying fate itself.

"And you, Enkarthos?" I turned back toward the center of the room. Thick plumes of smoke twisted upward from the bronze brazier, swirling through the air exactly like the exhaled breath of a massive beast. "How have you remained the light you speak of, after everything they did to you?"

The harrowing memory he had once shared with me—his brutal, bloody betrayal at the hands of Talrix—flashed vividly through my mind.

I have seen many terrible things, child, but my faith in what I believe is unmoving, his ancient voice resonated. I will always stand against the darkness.

"But humans betrayed you!" The ancient injustice burned hot in my chest with a sudden flare of protective anger. "How can you not resent them?"

I do not. The choice they made was theirs alone to carry. It does not speak for the entirety of humanity. His ancient patience washed over my anger, unmoving. Do not forget your ancestor—he stood by my side until the very end. There are more like him... humans like you, Alanah. Humans who will lay down their lives to protect others.

The tight coil of tension in my shoulders unraveled. Enkarthos... I looked at the mural of him. His painted crimson eyes mirrored my own. Hesitantly, my fingers brushed the skin just beneath my eye. I am proof of a sacrifice of goodness.

I moved closer to his likeness, admiring the beautiful emerald and jade scales that overlapped like new sprouts breaking through spring earth, shifting into an underbelly the color of sand.

The air in the room twisted, carrying a strange, unnatural chill that I tried to ignore. "Enkarthos," I whispered, the name falling from my lips almost like a plea.

Yes, child?

"What happens when our bond mends?"

That— His voice was severed. A deafening, unearthly screech ripped through the chamber, tearing straight through my body. I clamped my hands over my ears, dropping to my knees.

...Will be. His voice filtered through the ringing, broken and distorted.

Agony seared outward from my heart, shooting down my arms to my fingertips. My nails dug into the cold stone wall. Invisible, jagged hooks sank into my chest, wrenching my very seams apart. My throat clamped shut. When I finally dragged in a breath, it was like inhaling a wave of hot embers, scorching the delicate lining of my lungs.

"Please—" The word tore from my lips.

The ground beneath my feet heaved and quaked. The sharp pain dulled into a sickening throb, but the terror remained. I forced my eyes open.

The stone room was gone.

The sun hung in a wide sky, shining down onto vibrant green earth. The peace was a lie. A stabbing, electric jolt pierced my heart. A raw scream ripped from my throat as I collapsed. Above me, the Cursed Moon materialized, rising and dripping its obsidian light from the heavens to the soil.

My eyes bulged; my pulse hammered a frantic rhythm against my windpipe. A high-pitched ringing consumed my hearing until the world vanished again.

My knees pressed onto soft grass. I was in a forest I didn't recognize, but before I could process the towering trees, the horizon violently tipped backward. The world was instantly swallowed by a freezing, crushing dark. I was underwater.

Lightning fractured the surface far above. My jaw parted in a silent, desperate gasp, inviting the icy rush to flood my lungs. From the crushing depths, a warped, watery distortion of my name echoed. Alanah. I thrashed, my palms striking against the suffocating pressure of the current. A guttural screech tore through the water, vibrating against my bones. Hot tears joined the freezing depths—weeping not from the physical agony ripping me apart, but from a profound, cavernous ache of something irreplaceable being lost.

Suddenly, the punishing current evaporated. The drowning ceased. A thick, cloying sweetness rushed in, replacing the taste of brine. I was on my hands and knees in endless fields of vibrant purple flowers, carpeting the earth and stretching out to revere a massive, ancient tree that stood as the absolute center of this quiet, surreal world.

A brutal, invisible yank shattered the vision.

Searing, burning oxygen scraped down my throat as my trembling frame was dragged back into the chaos.

"A-Ala—" a voice fractured through the ether.

Violet light detonated across my vision, blinding and absolute. The world was obliterated by a roar of whiteout snow, whipping so fast and thick I couldn't even see my own hands clawing frantically in front of my face.

A bruising grip banded around my arms, anchoring me. The fading echoes of the chaotic vision gave way to the sudden, grounding heat of a solid body pressed flush against mine. My cheeks were slick with cold tears. Blinking against the blur, the ancient stone ceiling of the mural room materialized above me.

"Enkarthos," I gasped. The name tasted sounded small meager against the stagnant air.

Solid muscle supported my back, taking the entirety of my dead weight. My lungs fought for air in erratic, panicked heaves, my ribs aching with the effort. A large hand cupped my shoulder—a foreign weight. Emeric. He hovered over me, the perpetual guard in his eyes shattered, replaced by desperation.

"What is happening?" He threw a frantic glance toward the wooden door, as if expecting a phantom threat to burst through, before his gaze snapped fiercely back to mine.

His weight shifted beneath me, adjusting my body so I was cradled securely against his legs. I braced my hands to sit up, but his palm pressed flat against my chest, holding me in place.

"Do not move," he ordered. The command wasn't laced with his usual biting anger. It was terrifyingly gentle.

I remained fixed against him, my muscles trembling uncontrollably in the aftermath.

"Are you—" His wide eyes raked over my face, mapping my features for injuries. "—okay?"

"I am." I pulled in a ragged breath, fighting the tremor in my lungs. "Fine."

"You don't look fine. What is happening?" Genuine panic bled through his words. "It was as if you were somewhere else... your body was right here." He looked down at his own shaking hands. "Yet you were somewhere else entirely."

My palms pressed flat against the biting chill of the stone floor, pushing my lethargic body upright. The room pitched violently for a second. He lifted a hand to steady me, but froze midway, his fingers curling inward before he dropped his arm back to his side.

My voice came out weak, the phantom agony still wracking my nerves. "Visions."

"Visions? What do you mean?" His brows knit together in profound confusion.

"I..." Something inside of me shifted. A surrender. My gaze fell to the shadows dancing on the floor, my eyes fluttering shut before dragging open again. "They are like nightmares... but physically painful."

He didn't speak. He let the silence hang, waiting.

"Sometimes I see our world, but different. A world without the curse. The past. And then... I see things I cannot even begin to comprehend."

He didn't press me on the things I didn't understand. Instead, the atmosphere in the room abruptly warped. The unguarded warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by a sharp, calculating narrowing. "Why... why was Enkarthos's name on your lips? I need answers, Alanah."

The raw desperation in his voice mirrored the agonizing frustration I used to feel. I knew the burning suffocation of being kept in the dark. But how would he take it? I hesitated, searching the harsh, unrelenting lines of his face. No... he deserves to know. Let him decide what to do with the truth, just as he once did for me.

"Enkarthos," I started softly.

His jaw locked instantly at the sound of the dragon's name. I held his gaze, trying to force him to see the honesty in my eyes.

"He isn't dead... but he isn't alive—"

A sharp, bitter laugh tore from his throat, slicing through the heavy tension. "Are you now making light of everything we believe in?"

I leaned in a fraction, my tone dropping to a dead, serious flatline. "No." I pressed my hand against the center of my own chest. "He is a part of me."

Emeric jolted forward. His face was mere inches from mine, his eyes seething with betrayal. "You expect me to believe this? Even for you..." He stayed frozen in my space, his ragged, furious breath washing hot over my skin. Pure, unadulterated rage burned in his irises.

"Emeric," I tried again, raw pleading bleeding into my tone. "I understand it may sound—"

"No, Alanah," he snapped, cutting me down. "You have taken the thing I care about the most and twisted it. You attempt to make me question everything I know in everything you do." He tore himself away, shaking his head in disgust. "I do not know who is worse... you, or those who killed my parents."

His parents?

The words hung suspended. His eyes flared wide as the gravity of his own confession caught up with him. He froze, scrambling to rebuild the walls he had just torn down. "Tell me, Alanah, do you enjoy what you are doing?"

"Enough." My voice trembled. "You once attempted to share the truth with me. You gave me a chance to see it. Now, I am doing the exact same for you. You can either accept it, or deny it."

His massive fist slammed into the stone. A deep, feral growl rumbled up from his chest, his nose scrunching in violent frustration. "Prove it," he demanded.

"I—" I choked on the word. How do I even prove it?

"You can't, can you?" he spat, his voice laced with venomous disbelief.

My gaze drifted from the fury etched into his features to the space just over his shoulder, locking onto the massive mural behind him. "You said you didn't know what happened to Enkarthos," I said quietly. "But I do."

"So now you will spin a fairy tale and hope I swallow it."

I bit down on the inside of my cheek. My finger jabbed into the solid, unyielding wall of his chest. "You are—"

His hand snared my wrist—a bruising vise that yanked me forward. Our foreheads collided with a dull thud. We froze in the impact, our erratic, heavy breaths tangling together in the fraction of space between our lips. His eyes fluttered closed for an agonizing second. When they snapped open, his dark pupils were wide before rapidly shrinking back to pinpricks. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

He let out a long, ragged exhale. "I will listen."

He dropped my wrist. We both shifted backward, putting a desperate, necessary distance between us.

"The four curses on humanity are not from Enkarthos," I began, my voice steadying. "You were right... from the very start."

He shifted his weight, resting his forearm casually against his knee, though nothing about his posture was relaxed.

"A man named Talrix sedated him. There were many men who followed him into the dark. They desired the dragon's power for themselves."

Emeric clicked his tongue, a dark, cynical understanding washing over him. "Like the Vow, and so many others."

"Not everyone, though," I corrected. "One of my ancestors tried to protect him."

A dark smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth—as if the very concept of my bloodline doing something noble was impossible. I swallowed the hot agitation rising in my throat. "He was not strong enough. Instead, he lost his life along with Enkarthos."

"And Enkarthos never fought back?" Emeric challenged, his brow knitting with suspicion. "Why, that is impossible."

"No, he didn't. Instead, he took pity on us. He gave his final blessing just as the curses began to rise."

"And what exactly was this blessing?" he asked bitterly, gesturing around the cold room. "Because all I see around us are the curses we have now."

"Me." I met his gaze, letting him search my face. "My crimson eyes, Emeric. They are the proof."

He shot to his feet. His spine straightened, every muscle in his towering frame pulling taut.

"Get out." His voice was incredibly quiet, yet it carried a weight that left no room for argument. I watched his large hands begin to tremble at his sides. "I've heard enough."

I scrambled to my feet, my pulse roaring in my ears. His face was a turbulent, warring battlefield of emotions he could no longer suppress.

"Ask Mikaeus," I offered, keeping my voice soft.

I turned on my heel and walked out, the wooden door shutting behind me, leaving him standing alone in the echoes of the past. Now, it is his choice.

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