Whisper of the stone heart

2-Returned

"I am afraid, my Lady, that I would not be able to grace your banquet with my presence. While I appreciate your sincere invitation, I must ask you to accept my regrets. I have a matter of utmost importance to attend," said the Duke of Mizenth.

His response elicited the slyest smile from Lady Markbill. She examined the last batch of goods that were supplied for the banquet's food. A servant darted next to her that she found suspicious. She stopped him and took the box from his hands. Lady Markbill eyes him suspiciously then inspected the box of candles. It was completely normal, yet it was not enough to let her believe nothing was going to ruin her banquet. She decided to revise everything from the beginning once again.

"Do you know how many would love to have an invitation from me? No, you do not since you are declining my truthful sincerity. I see that you are all grown up now, talking to your caretaker this way."

"You are truly efficient in your work. As I see, nothing is complete yet, and the banquet is tonight."

"Oooh, excuse the disorderliness. I will be complete by the time of the banquet, do not worry. When I was a young Lady, a Lady my age commented on my newly designed dress and called it a rag while it started to be the first in the trend afterwards. This was the first offence I experienced."

"I am definitely confident. She had her eyes for something else."

"The second time was when I made my husband promise me he will die after me and look now who is the widow left behind."

"I was sorry for your loss. You suffered from it the most. He was a wise... and a great man."

"This will be the third time. I shall not accept your absence from this event. You know it is done for your long-awaited return. It has been a hundred year now."

"I suppose a brief appearance shall prove my worth," he sighed, not unable to decline the Lady's request. He had to think of a way to appear shortly, whether at the beginning of the end. He had to go to the auction house. The strange energy he felt in that direction made his dragon side lose control as if he was craving it for a long time.

Neldrisdyd of Mizenth, that was his name. Usually, he goes by Neld as a short name to avoid pronouncing it the wrong way. Obviously, only close people would say the name without offending him. The Banquet Lady Markbill was hosting the night had one purpose; to introduce the son of the Duke of Mizenth. She took it as a responsibility to help her friend's son have a high social presence. Appearances counted, and first impressions did wonders to whoever sought its greatness. Since there was still time left until the event, Neld left to his father's manor. He knew he was on his death bed. He did not want to see his face. However, after hearing what he has to say, his last expression would be pleasant to Neld's eyes.

On the galloping hooves of a horse, running through the capital's streets, the confident, handsome black-haired man Neld stopped at the entrance of the Mizenth manor. Looking at it with grim eyes, this place has only brought him miserable memories and dreadful feelings. He did not have to come, in his mind, that man was dead the day he denied his existence and let him live the life of an exiled. 

Seeing the young man climb the stairs two at a time, the guards opened the door after saluting him. No matter what his father said, he was still the future heir of a Dukedom. The servant fluttered around, bringing all sorts of what a doctor needed. Neld traversed the corridor at a quick pace arriving at his father's door. He inhaled deeply and went in without asking for permission. If seen by others, he would be called an arrogant, unfilial and terrible son.

"Come, my son. Let me see the great man you have grown up to be," the patient waved his hand.

The healer turned around and saluted Neld. He dismissed him quickly. Neld still remembered when he had a severe fever and was looked down on by that man. It was until he showed himself worthy that everyone respected him. He did not need the hypocrite painted face. All he needed would come shortly after his father's death.

"I hear you are in a terrible state, old man," he sauntered the room comfortably, "what a shame! I wanted to see more of your wrongdoing... Your actions were all exquisite. What a great sight that to witness your desperate last actions to fight for what does not belong to you," Neld stood next to the bed, looking down on his father. His eyes were full of hatred and satisfaction.

"My son, Neldridsyd. I am sorry. Forgive my previous actions. I know I am wrong. I am a dying man. Let us not leave regrets between us."

"Regrets?" He laughed sarcastically, "if you apologized before, perhaps I would consider giving you the antidote. My bad! I do not think I will accept your half-hearted words," he sat down next to his father and playfully touched his neck.

The Duke of Mizenth looked at his son with regrets. His choices led him to this state. He never expected his son to poison him. His expression changed drastically after understanding what his son meant. His face translated the horrific fearful feeling his heart experienced at that moment. 

"You are a monster. Go away! Disappear from my sight. I do not want to see you. Go away," the man moved his hands weakly, trying to push his son, but it was vain. His last strength disappeared. Only his eyes moved.

"You know," Neld's face came closer to the Duke's ear, "I will take this kingdom that you tried so much to protect. I will bring back the prestige of our race as well as the power that disappeared with it, how I wish you to witness it. Since you like this name this much, I will make it the most hateful word in human's history. Thanks to you, I came to exist. Remember, father, it is your choice that led us all to this position," Neld closed his father's eyes after giving up his last breath, "Burn in hell, father."

Neldrisdyd left his father, immediately instructing everyone to leave him rest. He wanted him to die in darkness and misery, regretting the decision he came to make during his life. Returning to his horse's side after his brief meeting with the dead man, Neld held his mask closely, making sure it would not disappear. It was compulsory to wear one before entering the auction's doors.

Entering a large hall full of nobles with all ranks, Neld noticed his best friend, who was sitting in the first range with vodka in his hands. His demeanour and presence were not strange to Neld. He smiled, taking the seat reserved for him next to him.

"Mizenth. How enlightening that the first day I see you after three years is at the auction house. Why are you here? I hear you hated slaves, especially seductive ones."

"It must be your third, old friend. Or should I call you, your highness?"

"That is my father's prestige. I'm not too fond of it. You did not change for one hair. What did you do outside the kingdom?"

"I do suppose I had to find myself. You know it is hard to be a hybrid."

"And who won?"

"My dragon blood. The Duke is dead. You know you are the first to hear the... pleasant news."

"Oh, man! You really do hate that creature."

"Look who is saying the facts. You hate him too."

"He was an annoying drag always siding with the empress. Suppose you see what I mean. He hated everyone who did not have the queen's blood. It is not my call! The king likes to throw his offsprings everywhere."

"We have two men to hate in common. I guess he will adore seeing me under his feet."

"Truly! If it were, I would not see you here. He does not hate you that much. He is using you to pressure the other nobles. Look over dear!" he pointed not far from his seat, "our dear Crown Prince is searching for another slave. His snake likes new holes."

Neld peeked at where the crown prince was sitting. His focus was extreme on the slaves newly coming each moment. He was examining their features accurately as if searching for someone. Fredden, the best friend, laughed at Neld's expression. He truly knows how to make fun of people.

"I really wonder the reason you are present at the gathering while the Lady who went to great length to raise you is hosting a banquet for your honour," commented Fredden with sarcasm.