Virion was not fleeing.

He could not let himself believe that he was, otherwise, the wound at his already aching core would only intensify, and Virion found that he could take no more batterings.

Virion could take no more.

He felt brittle, and weak, and there was a hole in his chest that only seemed to grow. He was unsure when it had first formed or had begun to widen its edges, but the slight opening he’d initially felt like a pinch had somehow become a large, gaping wound at his core that hurt.

And by Ythene’s Grace… Virion was hurting.

He should never have bedded him. He should never have returned to that blasted hut. He should never have let himself laugh with him. He should never have let himself care… but he had, and now—

Virion gritted his teeth as he took his carrier to the sky, using his magic to boost the throttle. The carrier’s insides careened with distress, but Virion ignored it. He needed to leave. He was in the air in mere moments and hurtling towards home the next.

It was not fleeing. Virion was only returning home, where he belonged.

He only wished that as he did so, he did not find it so difficult to breathe.

—————————————————————

“Virion!”

Virion had only just stepped out of his carrier when he heard the chorusing bellows of his name, and so it took him a moment to realise that it was coming from the number of individuals racing towards him. It took him another to place them as his brood.

Stunned, the lost prince could do nothing but stare as he watched every member of his family run— literally run— to embrace him. Virion blinked, staring at them all, specifically at Aiasthlyn, who strode forth with Malcolm at his side. When had he returned home? And why did he look so distraught?

Had they returned just for him?

He found that challenging to believe, but then his wona reached him and tore the question from his mind as she brought him into her arms with a tearful wail.

“Virion! Oh my, Virion!” She wept while she held onto him, drawing back to gaze upon him, only to wail anew and hug him again.

Both concerned and confused, Virion looked up in search of the usual sense of reasoning for his wona’s actions, but his mother was too concerned with joining in the tearful embrace to provide explanations. She drew him, and his wona by extension, into a hold so fierce that Virion had no choice but to succumb to it.

“You are home,” she whispered, her tone stilted like her inhalations. “You are home, and you are well.”

Virion nodded, meaning to speak the truth out as well, but he realised then that she was not speaking to him. Neither was she voicing the sentiment for wona. No, his queen mother was saying these words aloud for herself. She was convincing herself of the fact. She was also terrifyingly… shaking.

The light in Virion’s chest wavered, threatening to glow brighter and smother out all at once as he returned the unyielding embrace.

“I disappear for fins at a time, and never once have I received a welcome so elated.”

Virion lifted his gaze to his youngest brother and felt his lips forming a smile as he met Irros’ mischievous golden eyes. As always, Irros looked positively delighted with himself for providing unsolicited commentary, but his gaze never stuck to Virion’s for too long. It darted to and fro, searching his frame for evidence of harm that, if found, would lead to a bloody and brutal war.

“You look well, at least,” he stated, sounding so curious that their mothers drew back to make their own assessment of his person. “Defying all odds, you have survived without your catering staff.”

“Dressing team,” Meira corrected quickly. “He eats with the rest of us, remember? It is his accoutrements that require special care.”

“Oh yes,” Irros replied, feigning ignorance before the pair settled equally humoured smiles his way.

“I had hoped you would use them while I was away,” Virion mused while he looked between them with practised disapproval. “I see my hopes were in vain.”

The twins’ eyes glowed with matching glee, and where his light shone the brightest at his core, Virion could feel himself brighten. He was not particularly close with the twins— they had their lives, and he his, but he cared for them, was willing to sacrifice his joys for them, and it was warming to see that they, too, cared for him, and that they’d worried after him in his absence.

“Will we get the chance to hug him, too?” Ciradyl snipped as she tapped her ice-tipped heel impatiently. A frost wafted from her as a naked testament to her impatience, a chill Virion had not felt since she was a babe, and she cried when she could not find him.

Their mothers stepped back, and immediately, Ciradyl was there. She hugged him tightly. Almost too tightly, for it hurt.

“I almost broke treaties for you,” she mumbled the admission quietly.

Virion could not help but laugh as he returned her embrace, “But you love them so.”

“I suppose I love you more,” Ciradyl griped as she withdrew, passing her sharp gaze over him. It softened a moment later, “We worried, Virion.”

“So I am told,” he replied, squeezing her shoulder. “Enough so that even Aiasthlyn returned.”

Virion shifted his gaze to the last of their brood as Ciradyl stepped back and observed him curiously.

Aiasthlyn had always been such an interesting character.

Growing up, he’d been almost cold in his efforts to be separate from everyone and everything, and Virion supposed that was the initial sign that he’d been destined for more. But even after becoming the leader of their faction and the protector of their realm, Aiasthlyn had always been a solitary isle in the family.

He claimed that he was normal, and that the rest of them were simply ‘too much’, but even he knew not how to deny how muted he was when he was not around Malcolm. That was the Aiasthlyn Virion knew. He did not know the Aiasthlyn who sweated at the temples, the one who just barely managed to hold himself back before he all but dove into Virion’s arms to hug him more tightly than any of the others did.

Aiasthlyn clung to Virion. He held him so fiercely that his magic seeped out and surrounded them both, shrouding them protectively in the power that came from Ythene’s very veins.

Virion stood still with his arms afloat. He had planned to return the hug, but that was before Aiasthlyn had begun grappling him like a childling waking from a terror. Mollified beyond measure, Virion cast his gaze upon his brother’s other half, but he found absolutely no respite in the vampire, who simply smiled, offering Virion one of his very brightest smiles.

“Sorry,” Aiasthlyn breathed as he stepped back, though his silver eyes refused to part from Virion. “I… they said you were missing. We tracked you to the middle of the seas, and there was no trace. I looked. I looked for you.”

“There was a storm,” Virion tried to explain, but Aiasthlyn was already nodding.

“We know. We…” his brother could not speak. He could only stare at him, and for a moment, he looked as he had all those years ago when Virion told him that he would be the one to lead their faction. Lost.

Virion did now what he’d done then.

“I am fine,” he promised to Aiasthlyn, to them all. “I should have left earlier than I had, but I survived it fine and grounded on an island where the khan—” Virion’s throat was suddenly too tight. He cleared it. “I was taken care of, kept safe and well enough to attend the Assembly this morning.”

“You should have come straight home,” his wona protested, almost glaring at him.

“There was no need for it,” he dismissed with a gentle smile. “I am fine. Though I am starving and would prefer if we did this inside, with food, rather than on the landing strip.”

Virion could barely blink before they were all on the move.

His mother was snapping fingers at attendants to ready their dining hall with Virion’s favourites, and Ciradyl’s clicking heels were leading the way while she arranged for physicians to join us. The twins were snipping, per usual, trying to scare Malcolm, who stayed precariously close to Aiasthlyn’s side. The pair lingered behind him with Aiasthlyn’s gaze fiercely locked on his back while his mothers flanked his sides.

His brood moved as if they were protecting a very important package, one gifted by Ythene herself. Virion knew they were relieved to see him safe, that every single one of them was glad for his return and to have him back in their company.

It was… lovely.

It was a pronounced display of the love Virion knew his brood held for him, but being vaguely aware of something in the back of one’s mind was very different from experiencing it.

If not for the circumstances, Virion would have revelled in their devotion and remarked, quite loudly for all the castle to hear, that their actions proved him to be each of their favourites. Sadly, he could not.

While the love of all those around had warmed him, at his very core, Virion felt terribly cold. It was not for the lack of tenderness, for it was plentiful and waiting at every corner he looked. It was for the lack of him.

Zirkhlon. He wished he could forget the name. Oh, how he wished he could forget it all— his touch and his words, the sweet ones and, more importantly, the false ones. But he could not. Everything— every moment they’d spent together— remained at the forefront of Virion’s mind, as they had throughout his entire journey home, and they continued to do so even when he was surrounded by the ones he loved the most.

Even with all the distance between them, the imprint of Zirkhlon scorched his heart, and what embers remained refused to be smothered out.

————————————————

Virion seemed to spend the rest of his day in a strange haze, watching the scene around him through false eyes.

It was a scene he knew well— one where they were all seated at their table, prodding and teasing one another over their meal. The differences this time were that they all watched him with too sharp eyes, and despite his best efforts to abate their worries, Virion found himself perpetually one-second-too-late with his rebuttals. He also felt absurdly tired.

They noticed. While his siblings tried to coax him into being his usual self, his wona stared at him with open suspicion, and his mother, for some odd reason, looked at him with regret.

It was home. It was what he had yearned for from the moment the storm had swallowed him, and yet…

Virion fisted his hands beneath the table and straightened his mind. He’d been with the man for four feens— he should not have such an effect on him. But he could only remember those smouldering eyes and all the silent truths he’d conveyed through them.

He could only remember how he felt. There were arguments, and so many of them, but there’d been so much more, too— more than Virion had felt with another in decades, or ever.

“Isn’t that so, Virion?”

Virion forced his gaze to the speaker, Meira, who was looking at him expectantly. His gaze shifted, and he found his entire brood doing the same. His heart dropped.

“Oh, yes,” he agreed hastily, sitting himself up. They frowned, “Or, no. I…”

Focus, Virion!

“I think Virion needs rest,” Ciradyl spoke suddenly, saving him from the embarrassment and impending panic. “He has been through quite the ordeal, and we force him through another with all our questions and talking. Let him rest, and we’ll pick up once more in the morning.”

Blessings be onto his sister. Many, many blessings.

Virion did not bother pretending to be resistant to the suggestion, for he was grateful for the escape and more so for the promised solitude. So, as his family stood and took their leave, he extricated himself and left first. Only such an escape was not given quite so easily.

“Virion.”

Tilting his head back, the prince sighed.

While Virion usually loved hearing his name in such abundance, today, it only drained him. Why now, this once when he wanted to be alone, did everyone seek to see him?

With his fingers still curled over the handle to his chambers, he turned warily to face the pair strutting towards him. Ciradyl and Aiasthlyn looked like they were about to ride into battle with their grimly lined faces and tightly clasped lips.

“Yes?” He asked, though he already knew what this was.

“You need to talk to us,” Aiasthlyn replied firmly, his silver eyes threatening to tear straight through Virionif he resisted.

Internally, Virion sighed and cursed his past self for growing such a bond with the pair.

It was not until recent luhes that Virion had started considering himself close to any of his siblings. They were there, as was he, and that was it. But then Aiasthlyn had returned home from his charge on Earth a broken shell of himself, and things were forced to change.

Virion had been the first to notice,and he’d made Ciradyl aware. Together, they’d pulled the truth of the matter out of their brother until they learned of Malcolm. The vampire pisen Aiasthlyn had left behind in another realm because his foolish brother was too selfless to take what he wanted.

It was Ciradyl and Virion who helped Aiasthlyn come to his senses and fight for his pisen, and since then, they’d all grown closer for it. Sadly, that now meant that they felt entitled to do something about his current state.

“Let us in,” Ciradyl demanded with a wave of her hand.

Virion stood still. “Were you not the one who suggested that I rest? I am tired and—”

Ciradyl pushed past him, soldiering into his room without pause or, evidently, shame. Aiasthlyn followed, leaving Virion no other choice but to do the same. He entered and shut the door behind him, sealing himself and his siblings into his chambers.

Briefly, he glanced around the familiar edges of his space and found it uninspiring. He thought that when he returned home, the restless part of himself would settle, but even here, in the place that always made him feel the safest, the jittering discomfort continued beneath his veins.

Virion withheld his sigh as he traipsed further into his room, aiming for the lounger he often used when deciding what to wear. He sank into it with grace and waited for his siblings to do the same with the other furnishings, but instead, they remained standing just above him.

Virion glanced between them, “Am I in some sort of trouble?”

“Not as of yet,” Ciradyl replied as she folded her arms over her chest. “And you will not be, should you cooperate.”

Virion lifted a fine brow.

“What happened?” Aiasthlyn asked, plainly and without any of Ciradyl’s dramatics.

Virion blinked, “I’m afraid I will require more context.”

“What happened while you were away? With the dragons?” Aiasthlyn clarified with some noted impatience. “Something happened— something you are not sharing.”

Virion resisted the urge to shift. Any movement now would be catalogued and used for their case. “What makes you believe that?”

“You have barely spoken since your return, and when you do, it’s only at the prompting of another. Your arrogance is at half its usual capacity and—” Ciradyl paused her scathing assessment to eye her brother warily, “…you look sad, Virion.”

Virion stiffened, widening his golden eyes as he tried not to reel from the impact of that final statement. Sad? He should not look sad. He could not. He… he…

He barely knew the dragon for realm’s sake!

Despite all that happened between them, it should not have been enough to make him appear sad.

“I’m tired,” he replied when he found his voice, choosing to arm himself with a speck of the truth.

“You know there is more,” Aiasthlyn contended.

Virion propped his arms behind himself in feigned contemplation, “Is there?”

Aiasthlyn frowned, seeming frustrated, “There is.”

“Hm,” Virion hummed. “I was not aware.”

“You are not you, Virion!” Aiasthlyn snapped, angry now and not at all hindering the show of it. “Something is wrong with you.”

It was not insult that Virion felt. There was no reason to feel offended… only he did feel it. It was not at Aiasthlyn’s words, but more so their implications that, yes, this dragon truly had affected him so greatly that even with all the distance between them, Virion still suffered the wound of him.

“Is it Mother?” Ciradyl pried, speaking a question into the quiet so shocking that Virion could not help but baulk.

“Mother?” He repeated, aghast. “What in all the realms has Mother done?”

Ciradyl loosened her arms as she shifted, “Sent you away.” It sounded like a query. “You should know that she regrets it deeply. She has been distraught since you left, but even more so since you returned.”

“She thinks you blame her,” Aiasthlyn explained before Virion had to ask. “We have all noticed that you are not yourself, and she believes it is due to her.”

Virion blinked at his siblings, trying to compute the new information amid all the rest. His mother had never been one to succumb to such sentiments in silence. If she believed there was strife, she was the type to face and combat it before it festered. She did not let things lie.

But then again, she had looked Virion’s way quite a number of times with what weighed like shame and regret. And when Virion allowed himself to think about it, he could remember how shaken she’d appeared when they’d first reunited.

“I have no issue with Mother. I have no issue at all,” he dismissed, sighing deeply while he ran a hand through the sleek tresses of his hair. “I am simply tired, in dire need of a bath in my pools.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” Virion groaned, cutting Aiasthlyn off before he could speak. “Nothing happened. I am fine. I do not know how many times I must say it, but I tire of the task already. If I appear any different, it is simply the strain of such a workload after continuous stagnancy.” Neither laughed. Neither appeared even slightly relaxed. Virion swallowed uncomfortably and carried on. “What I am, as I have said, is tired, and I am desperate to be alone. You can interrogate me when the suns rise, but please grant me peace and solitude for one night.”

Virion watched as they shared a glance and pounced on the moment of indecision. “I will answer your questions on the morrow. I promise.”

Finally, his siblings relented, though with obvious reluctance. They wished to hound him until they uncovered the naked details he’d left out, but Virion was in no mood to be pried open again. Not even if it were by family. He felt raw enough as it was.

“We will speak here the moment you are dressed for the day,” Ciradyl stated with a pointed finger.

Virion nodded beneath it, “Yes, yes. Now shoo.”

Nose wrinkling, she turned and headed for the door while Aiasthlyn surprisingly wavered. He was supposed to be the first to leave, but he remained where he was, observing Virion with a gaze that carried far too much knowing for Virion’s liking.

Aiasthlyn parted his lips.

“Tomorrow,” Virion interjected before he could splay him.

Ears twitching at their tips, Aiasthlyn clenched his mouth shut and turned wordlessly, following Ciradyl out of the door and finally— finally leaving Virion alone.

The moment the door closed behind them, Virion let his high shoulders fall.

He was exhausted, truly— far more than he’d portrayed— but not for the reasons they’d thought. Virion was tired of pretending to be fine, of the lies in saying that he was, of being frustrated with himself for actually being distressed. It tired him, and the thought of doing it all again tomorrow only made it worse because he would. Do it all again.

When Ciradly and Aiasthlyn came, Virion would answer their questions with convincing shreds of a whole. He would not mention Zirkhlon— he refused to— but he’d share what he could, and tomorrow, he would not be so slow with his replies and rebuttals.

He would be the Virion he had always been. The Virion who awoke early to dress better than all others, the one who lounged in the comforts of his life and did not allow himself to stress on matters that would only wrinkle his skin.

It would be fatiguing at first to be what he did not feel, but it was a necessary thing. Not just for his brood, but himself. The sooner he righted his life and stopped paying mind to this foolish feeling of disappointment, the sooner it would stop hurting. The hole would close.

Virion only had to be himself, and life would right itself in due order.

He would forget Zirkhlon and their arguments in the woods. He would forget the way he looked at him with those red-rimmed eyes when he was angry, and the way they glowed when aroused. He’d forget his smiles, his rough touch, and his regret. It would all fade away, and one day, this would be nothing more than a strange memory— a blimp in his path.

It would be, for it had to be, because Virion could not allow for anything else. He simply…physically… could not.

———–

If it’s one thing I ADORE its the pain in your chest when characters are hurt/not speaking! this is my crackkkk

Thoughts??????

Thoughts on Virion being hurt???? On the glimpse of his family and all their love for him??? At the conversation with Aias and Ciradyl at the end???

The things that are to come yall are not ready for!! I’ll try to get 2 chapters ready for next Wednesday!

Next up are OMEGA and Aiasthlyn updates this week!!!

Until next time,
Byeeeeeeee Humansssssss