Life had always borne a single tune.

Each day that Virion was blessed with life, he blessed all those around him with his presence. It was an exchange of sorts, and Virion had always taken his duty very seriously.

Things were different now.

He still revered his responsibilities, only when Virion woke, it was not with a smile, but a frown and weighted dips beneath his eyes from yet another restless night. He selected his attire with only half a present mind, and no amount of freshly picked willow berries could sweeten his mood.

That was another matter— Virion was agitated.

He kept others from seeing it, or suspecting too greatly, but internally, Virion was a soured thing, and it was all his fault.

A nerha had passed since he’d seen him last, and yet he still plagued Virion’s mind.

He should have forgotten him by now— should have banished him from his thoughts, but no matter how desperately Virion ventured to do just that, the dragon’s fire refused to be snuffed.

It was ludicrous, shameful, unseemly, and above all, maddening. To think that he would let himself be made so perturbed in the mind because of another, especially one who had deceived him.

That was what hurt the very most— that he was still hurt at all.

That was what kept him up at night, what weighed on his chest like a river’s stone and bittered every offering that skimmed his tongue.

The hurt.

Virion gritted his teeth through it. He played his role as he should, avoided Aiasthlyn and Ciradyl’s honing eyes as best as he could manage, and passed his days as if nothing were amiss. And as Goren fixed another gemmed pin into his hair, he prepared himself to grit his teeth through yet another day.

Before he could muster the courage for it, his chamber doors flew open.

Aghast, Virion parted his lips to reprimand, but he faltered when he saw the look on Ciradyl’s flustered face. While the rest of her being was as prime as always, her glamour warbled, showcasing the uncharacteristic fright within her golden eyes.

“There is a matter,” she announced between bated breaths. “Come with me. Now.”

Virion sat still for only a moment before he was phasing himself and Ciradyl to where he could feel their brood’s tensions rising.

Surprisingly, the setting was Aiasthlyn’s work suite, a hollow cavern situated beneath the plunge pool of the castle’s waters. Virion personally found the constant barrage of water crashing overhead to be stress-inducing, but Aiasthlyn claimed it calmed his mind.

Virion swiftly noted all the faces present.

The suite was unusually crowded, with both his mothers present, as well as Babis, Aiasthlyn’s closest confidant and most loyal shadow. The moody elf stood stock still, three paces from where Aiasthlyn himself stood behind his grand desk.

They had been speaking in whispers, but at the sight of Ciradyl and Virion, they all froze, their expressions wooden, unlike the shifting hues dancing across their skin.

“What is it?” Virion asked, needing only the single glimpse to know something was awry.

No one spoke for a moment.

“The dragons have called for another meeting.” Aiasthlyn was the one to shatter the discomforting silence.

Virion did not mask the way his shapely brows rose above his eyes.

It had been mentioned in the Assembly that another meeting would be held after the first five islands were established, but last he’d been told, the dragons had just begun preparations on raising the second.

“They’ve completed all five,” Aiasthlyn continued, his silver eyes swimming with unease as he gazed upon Virion. “The Chieftain expedited the process overnight, and now demands another meeting as soon as all representatives can be made available.”

Virion baulked openly.

Zirkhlon had rushed matters? But why? The plans he’d presented had been concise and proficient, down to the etched timeline of each step to be taken. Had something new been discovered amongst the dragons to force his hand? Why else would the famously patient species accelerate such an important affair?

The questions swirled around Virion’s mind, appearing one after the other in such quick succession that it took the prince longer than it should have to realise that everyone was staring at him.

He frowned.

“There is more?”

Aiasthlyn nodded, frowning too as he glanced at their Wona, who anxiously rubbed her hands.

“They have demanded your attendance,” his Queen Mother informed as she folded her arms over her chest. Her expression, though strained, was etched in worry as she stared at her first. “They will only have you as our representative, Virion. Only you.”

This time, Virion kept a firm grasp of his glamour. He dug his nails into it and refused to allow it even to quiver.

Beneath, it was as if Virion’s core had been reignited after an aeon spent without Ythene’s light.

Virion’s heart stuttered, and then soared. His lungs overworked themselves, and his entire body vibrated with sudden anxiousness.

Zirkhlon wanted to see him again— demanded to see him again— and it could only be from Zirkhlon’s lips that this command came as no other would be so brazen as to make such an audacious demand.

Zirkhlon demanded to see him again.

Virion struggled to remain still, but did so with acute awareness of the many eyes fixed on him and the suspicion gathering within them.

It was without doubt that they had pieced together that only the Chieftain would make such a bold request. They simply could not piece together the why.

“You do not seem surprised, my prince,” Babis noted, respectful even while he unhelpfully flaunted his ever-watchful eye.

“I am,” Virion assured, and that took no pretence. “I am processing.”

“Ythene’s blessings to you in that endeavour,” Ciradyl scoffed as her lip curled into a scowl. “They will not negotiate or tell us why, not to me, and not with truth. Aiasthlyn spoke directly to the Chieftain, and still, he lied.”

It was far harder this time not to react, almost painful in fact as Virion swept his gaze back to his brother.

Aiasthlyn was already watching Virion with the very suspicion he’d held every time he’d questioned his brother on what ailed him. Only now, something was noticeably different.

They stared at one another, and while Virion did not wish to ask, he knew remaining quiet only made matters worse.

“Well?” He urged as he faced Aiasthlyn properly. “What was said?”

“The same thing, again and again,” Aiasthtyn replied with a deceptive calm. “That they simply wanted the representatives who were initially present to be in attendance once more.”

“Which is a lie,” his Wona declared as she abandoned her post to approach him. Her gaze was fretful, yet harsh, as she peered at him. “We spoke to the Kings of Imfell and Wrol. They received no such stipulations. They have only made this order of us.”

“That is…” Virion started, only he did not know how to finish.

“Absurd,” his Queen Mother declared with a snarl. “And clearly a ploy.”

“The question is,” Aiasthlyn drawled, drawing Virion’s attention upon him once more, “a ploy at what.”

Virion knew the answer to that— Aiasthlyn certainly assumed as much, but in truth, Virion felt as blind as the rest of them.

“I pressed,” Aiasthlyn added when the silence endured. “I pointed out the absurdity of it all, but his answer remained the same. He spoke his lies recklessly.”

In another light, in another time, Virion would have found humour in picturing another of his brood having to deal with Zirkhlon’s nettlesome disposition, but the circumstances did not allow it.

“This does not make sense,” Virion voiced.

“None of it makes sense,” his Wona corrected as she clasped his hands with hers. “They are hiding something.”

“He is hiding something,” his Queen Mother said as she, too, came to stand with him. She appeared scared. “The Chieftain.”

Virion wanted to dissuade his mothers of their fears, especially his Queen Mother, who had only just stopped treating him like a wounded soldier, but he did not know how.

He could not stop them fretting over him if he spoke truths. They would only demand more answers, and Virion did not want them— or anyone— prying into the most humiliating experience of his life, or the dragon responsible for it.

But how did he soothe their minds without sharing the very events he’d denied for the last nerha?

“Virion,” Ciradyl prompted, alerting him of the silence he’d allowed to run on for far too long now. “What is going on?”

Virion parted his lips before he shut them once more.

What was there to say? What could he say? He did not know, for the dragon had catapulted him into yet another precarious situation and left him to navigate it on his own.

Virion let his eyes slip over the room once more and all those in attendance. He could not trick them all. Not with lies, and not behind his glamour, but there was another way.

“I do not know why this is happening as it is,” Virion assured, making his voice carry so that it might sound true. “I am as puzzled as all of you.”

No one appeared to believe that, but Virion carried on.

“It is strange,” he acquiesced. “The falsehoods and fibbery, but is it truly so difficult to imagine that I succeeded in my role thoroughly enough to be sought after again?”

It was a nasty, cruel thing to do— to throw his insecurities at them and weaponise them, but it was also the smartest thing he could do.

The change in the room was instantaneous.

“No!” His Queen Mother exclaimed, the first to speak and the loudest at that. “That is not it at all, Virion!”

“We know you did well!” His Wona reassured with equal fierceness. “Exceedingly well. You would not even return home until you saw your duties completed.”

“All reports of your attendance were praising,” Ciradyl agreed, only to wince as Aiasthlyn shot her a scathing glare.

The reports of Virion had been praising— that was not a lie— but many knew that ‘the prince who spilt his drink’ was Virion, and try as they may have to hide it from him, Virion had heard the whispers.

“We know you are capable, Virion,” Ciradyl corrected earnestly. “We are only concerned of what true reasoning lies behind these demands.”

Virion nodded, doing his best to play the part of an offended version of himself and see it through before he straightened.

“If that is the case, then we will not know it until I am there,” he declared firmly. “Whatever game is afoot, it is not something that puts myself or our faction in jeopardy. This is Colony.”

“Colony is not without its cruelties,” Aiasthlyn contested as his voice grew cold, a reminder that he was privy to histories none of them were. “I will attend, and if your absence offends, then I will face their anger as King first and then, if I must, as the Protector of this Realm.”

While relief swept through the suite like a seeking spirit, Virion found his initial alarm returning with a vengeance at Aiasthlyn’s proclamation.

He did not want Aiasthlyn to meet his— to meet Zirkhlon. He knew that with sudden astounding clarity. And while he was well aware that he should have felt relieved at not having to endure seeing the dragon once more, he found himself feeling the very opposite.

“Is it worth it?” Virion heard a voice— his— ask. The room grew quiet. “To risk discord by ignoring their request?”

“Their demand,” Aiasthlyn corrected. “And is it worth it for you, brother? Of course it is.”

Virion’s heart warmed as he stared at his brother.

Aiasthlyn could be so fierce and unwavering in his love and loyalty to their brood, and Virion had wrongfully forgotten that. No matter what spewed from Virion’s lips, Aiasthlyn would take no chances and happily risk strife for generations to see his brother safe.

Virion was grateful for his protection— touched, in fact— but he still could not find it in himself to hide within it.

“May I speak to Aiasthlyn alone?” he requested, dropping a kind eye to his stunned Mothers. They blinked at him with mirrored surprise. “And Ciradyl as well? It will only be a moment,” he promised sweetly.

His mothers shared a look and then pinned it to Aiasthlyn, who appeared somewhat at ease for the first time since Virion had arrived. Ciradyl, on the other hand, seemed confused, but she made no comment.

“If you wish it,” his Queen Mother eventually allowed with a slow nod. “We will stay close.”

His Wona wavered, but eventually followed in her direction, trudging out the door Babis already held open for them. He bowed as they departed and took his leave without an uttered word.

The heavy doors pulled close, leaving only the chorus of the water falling overhead and the steady beat of the three synced hearts remaining.

Bolstering his resolve, Virion turned and looked upon his closest siblings.

“Are you finally going to tell us the truth now?” Aiasthlyn asked as he gazed knowingly at Virion.

“Parts of it,” Virion replied while he strode forth towards Aiasthlyn’s large table, bringing them all together. “I am not ready to share it all.”

He stood on one side, Aiasthlyn behind the other, and Ciradyl between them at its shorter ledge.

“Of?” She encouraged as she raised an iced barrier around them to block any wandering ears from hearing what was shared next within their private circle.

The last time she’d done so, Aiasthlyn had told them about Malcolm for the first time.

Virion supposed it was his turn, but his story was not destined to end quite the same.

There was nothing to fight for here— nothing he wanted to fight for. He only had to make his confession so he might eventually move on.

The first prince took a breath, held it and then slowly released it.

“During the storm, it was the Chieftain’s island that I landed on,” he said carefully, forcing his words to continue flowing even as his throat tightened uncomfortably. “It was him I stayed with for the three feens— him who sheltered me, and we…” Virion thought of dark wine and warm fingers tracing over his heart. He winced and shoved the last of it out. “We were involved.”

Ciradyl and Aiasthlyn’s already widened eyes bulged.

Ciradyl made a sound. A small squeaky thing a babe might make when attempting its first words. Aiasthlyn refused to blink.

“It did not end well, but it did end,” Virion continued, wishing already for this exchange to be over. “I am not certain why he now demands my attendance for the next meeting, but it is likely connected to our… entanglement.”

“Your entanglement?” Ciradyl choked out, her voice a barely-there rasp. “You… bedded the Chieftain?! The Chieftain of all dragons, not only on Colony but all the dragons with Ythene’s Realm?!?”

“Yes,” Virion replied with a poorly-hidden wince. “I regret it, but yes.”

Ciradyl huffed another sound. Not quite a laugh so much as a confused snigger as she stared at her eldest brother as if she did not recognise him. Virion did not favour it, so he glimpsed upon Aiasthlyn only to sigh when he discovered him still to be an open-lipped fish.

“I am no innocent thing,” Virion defended as he fixed his blouse. “There is no reason for your reactions.”

“There certainly is,” Ciradyl denied with another huff. She shook her head, her eyes still opened alarmingly wide. “The Chieftain, Virion?”

“I have always been an overachiever,” he retorted while he glanced around for a decanter, but Aiasthlyn’s study was monotonous as its owner.

“This is why you have been sad,” Aiasthlyn whispered, finally speaking only to start with what Virion had been most loath to address.

“It did not end well,” he repeated.

Virion was sharing, but that did not mean that he was inclined to relive it.

He could not speak about how it all unfolded because that would require speaking about how he felt in the height of their time together— full and alive, even when he was aggravated, and how he now felt—

Virion’s core dimmed, and Aiasthlyn’s expression immediately hardened.

It was not from frustration this time. The sudden shift was due to an emotion Aiasthlyn rarely entertained. Anger.

Even past Ciradyl’s shield, Virion could hear the river’s course making a violent descent.

“All the more reason I should attend,” Aiasthlyn declared as his anger planted its roots within him. Between them, Ciradyl nodded firmly.

Virion smiled but shook his head.

“I appreciate the suggestion, truly, but it would be best if I went. Whatever Zirkhlon has planned will not end if I do not go. I know him. He can be infuriatingly stubborn. It would be best to squash it here, at its earliest stages.”

“But what if he seeks to embarrass you?” Aiasthlyn seethed, his jaw clenching as he stared at his brother. “What if he only harbours bad intentions?”

“Then I will face them,” Virion replied with a wave. “Many have tried to best me, fewer have ever succeeded.”

Virion did not mention that Zirkhlon was one of those few, but he had no intentions of allowing the dragon to fool him again.

“And how will you face it?” Ciradyl inquired. “We do not even know what you would be going into.”

“Which is precisely why I first must attend, and then I shall uncover what it is that he seeks from me,” Virion replied while something anxious skittered down his spine. “…If he seeks anything at all.”

“He must,” Aiasthlyn replied tightly.

“Then I will deal with it myself,” he replied, applying the tone he used to when he struggled to win Aiasthlyn’s curious mind as a childling.

But Aiasthlyn was no childling. He was the King of the Anael Faction and the Protector of the Realm. If he denied Virion, there would be nothing he could do about it.

Thankfully, Aiasthlyn had been attentive when Virion taught him never to abuse his power.

With noted stiffness, Aiasthlyn tilted his head, relenting and allowing Virion his first true breath of air since he’d arrived with Ciradyl.

“Well… shun,” Ciradyl drawled while sliding a hand down her face.

“I will be fine,” Virion promised, and was pleased to discover that he sounded far more certain than he felt. “Tell them I will attend.”

When Aiasthlyn nodded once more, Virion turned, desperate to be alone so that he might panic without probing eyes, but such relief was not so forthcoming.

“Wait! You can not leave so quickly!” Ciradyl complained as her frost slipped over the room. “You have barely shared the finer details, Virion. You spun lies for fins, and now you expect us to let you go?” She dropped her voice to a hiss. “You called him by his given name.”

Virion could not help but laugh.

Ciradyl was always so serious and controlled that it was rare to see her perform such antics. To see her in such a state warmed Virion as much as Aiasthlyn’s loyalty did.

“I will share all that remains when I return,” Virion vowed as he pressed a finger to his temple. The seal was enough to cause Ciradyl to drop her shoulders in surrender.

Virion already knew that he would not want to talk to his siblings about the details, both old and new, when he returned, but he was no fool.

If, after an entire nerha, this was the state of his personage, then he would need his siblings once he returned to make it through whatever was to be waiting for him on that isle.

Did the dragon want to see him to apologise, again? Was this part of some new scheme, or were they all overestimating the impact Virion might have had on him to think that the Dragon Chieftain would go to such lengths to see Virion once more?

Virion could not begin to decipher what the truth actually was, and he was in no way prepared to see Zirkhlon again, but it would be done, because the very last thing Virion Kethlana was, was a coward.

Whatever Zirkhlon had planned, if it came at Virion’s peril, not even Ythene herself would be able to save the dragon from the prince’s wrath.

————————–

REUNION INCOMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Thoughts??????????

Thoughts on the update on our baby Virion!??!? He’s so hurt ugh, my heart!! When he said that bit about wine and warm fingers on his heart – I broke a little. Felt like a gunshot wound icl

I am sooooo fucking happy Zirkhlon is doing something!! LIKE YES!!! Get him back, IF that’s what he’s doing. Also, Angry Little Brother Aiasthlyn 🥹 he’s such a cutie omgggggggggg I adore this little sibling trio as well! I love how protective they are of each other

The next chapter will be here next Wednesday but if anyone wants to read ahead, the completed version is already on Patreon and my website for all tiers!!!!

Until next time,
Byeeeeeee humanssssssss