Chapter Text
In the brief moments bleeding between day and night when the last molten ribbons of sunlight spilled over the horizon and the watercolor shades of dusk filled the canvas of the skies, untouched by the snaking tendrils of twilight’s creeping darkness, it always seemed as though the forest stretched endlessly before them.
Malleus’s bare feet pelted against the ground as the little dragon tore through the woods like a brewing storm. His silk hair danced along the tune of the wind, released from the stifling confines of his braids, Silver’s honest handiwork coming undone the moment he’d stepped foot out of the cottage’s door. His cheeks were flush with delight, his emerald eyes glinting with childlike wonder, his lips parting to release a content trill that spilled across the forest like a gurgling stream.
Malleus loved running freely across the woods. It was by far one of his favorite activities. The way the wind rushed into his lungs filling them with life, the way the prickly grass blades parted to let him pass, the way spring peppered kisses against his skin with her nippy lips, quenching the fire constantly burning within his veins, as green split around him, the same way the nightsky did in the path of a fallen star, was the best feeling in the whole world.
Lilia had told him time and time again that he was the prince of the fae realm, an heir to a throne he’d never even seen, but only when he stormed across the fields, when his body battled against the winds, and the forest succumbed to his feet, did he really feel like a true king.
Although there was one thing he loved more.
His wings unfurled in a single breath, arching wide and dark against the light, their shadow spilling across the grass as they caught the wandering breeze. For a fleeting moment they lingered, weighing the wind, before Malleus took to the skies, soaring past the crowns of the tallest oaks until Briar Valley was spreading beneath him in a grand rug of deep greens, light blues and dull grays.
Saphire veins crossed the gentle slopes of the blossoming valleys as the rivers made their way down the mountains, splitting the vibrant fields of green like ocean serpents. He’d seen maps of the kingdom’s coastline many times; he was aware of the way land slithered across the sea like a restless vine, but all depictions had been void of color and he’d always wondered whether the blue of the ocean was closer to the light color of the sky or the deep hues of the lonely tower’s tile roof peaking over the human castle like an ocean-less beacon.
Lilia had yet to honor his promise of taking them to the beach and even when Malleus had flown close enough to the stars for the air to thin and his bones to grow weary, he’d never been able to take a glimpse of the sea. It might as well never existed.
The northern part of the realm was clearer. Tenebrous Woods didn’t appear so endless from this height. It was easy to spot the edges of the forest where the lush carpet of oak and fir grew sparse, curling shyly around the dense mountain range lurking over the valley as though asking for permission.
Snow still clung to the dreary summits of Mount Dread as though the news of spring’s coming had yet to reach that part of the world. It was far from surprising; the wuthering peaks of the dark mountains forever trapped in a state of eternal winter as though swallowed by a never-ending storm, lived in a different orbit than the rest of the realm, untouched by something as trivial as the changing of the seasons, clinging to their frosty garments with a stubbornness worthy of their name.
According to his guardian’s tales, the capital of Briarland stretched just beyond their steep crests, and at the edge of it stood Blackscale castle in all its draconic pride. Malleus’s home.
In a way, it was just like the sea. It might as well never existed.
The little dragon’s eyes fleeted to his true home, searching only for a moment before the familiar sight of the small cottage came to view.
Lines of dripping laundry surrounded the house, strung up from every angle like carefully arranged chess pieces, the type Lilia would use during their strategy lessons, the latest addition to his already drowning itinerary of courses. He had chased them out after they were done with their foul breakfast with a clear warning to stay out of his way until the chores were done.
For once, Malleus had been more than willing to oblige. The promise of a day spent roaming the woods had filled him with restless excitement, and he felt no greater urge to return now, not with that eerie curl of mauve smoke rising from the chimney. Even from this distance, far beyond the range of his sharpened senses, the ghost of Lilia’s dreadful cooking seemed to find him all the same.
A shudder ran through his spine before his glittering gaze turned away from the cottage and towards the last slivers of sunlight blurring the clashing colors of the horizon. He yielded to the playful pull of the current that welcomed him with a gentle ruffle of his wings and a lively sweep of his hair, the silken bangs framing his face blown away to reveal the scaly marks on his forehead that stirred pleasantly at the strokes of the wind.
The exhilaration stirred something deeper, awakening his arcane core as emerald whisps of magic unfurled at his fingertips, coiling around them like glittering vines before spilling from his claws in streams of emerald light, drifting through the air like fragments of a green-stained rainbow.
His name echoed from below, the nervous tone coating the word brushing familiarly against his pointy ears, coaxing an amused smile to stretch across his face, as Malleus made his descent.
His landing was as clumsy as a fledgling’s, nearly sending him sprawling across the ground in graceless display of poor coordination that would have certainly coaxed a disapproving click of Lilia’s tongue were his guardian present. But the only one currently present to witness his blundering control was a red-eyed bunny with white fur and long ears that perked upon Malleus’s sudden presence, its blushed snout twitching nervously at the young dragon’s suffocating aura.
A mischievous grin tugged against the boy’s lips, but Malleus managed to school his amusement into a picture-perfect mask of indifference, taking a page out of Silver’s book of facial apathy, as he approached the jittery animal with a disinterestedly languid pace. His head tilted toward the canopy of leaves, his gradient arms folding behind him, as he began to whistle a familiar tune, a soft melody he’d always muttered in the throes of his mind as though recounting the notes of a song that had been ingrained in the marrow of his bones.
All the brush strokes were put to place, composing a painting of pure innocence.
The creature relaxed, fooled by Malleus’s mirage, its crimson gaze straying to the patch of fresh grass it’d been making short work of, and the young fae swallowed back a sinister smirk as he continued strolling between the dense clusters of oak trees, circling the clueless target like a lurking vulture.
The woodland creatures always shied away from him in quiet unison, as though some unseen council had gathered in the shadows of the forest and decreed him a presence best avoided. Malleus couldn’t fault them, not when he’d spent the better part of his life chasing after coats of fur and feathers alike, pouncing at their startled owners with the ferocity of a newborn kitten hunting spots of light.
Out of all the matters included in Lilia’s endlessly dragging lectures on princely behavior and draconic conduct, that ended without fail with the latest set of purchased curtains burnt to a crisp and the young fae imprisoned in the confines of the kitchen’s corner glaring uselessly at the dull wall until his punishment was deemed enough, this seemed to be the only subject to escape his criticism. In fact, the little dragon had caught his guardian struggling to swallow back fits of amused giggles whenever he was caught terrorizing the residents of the forest, a reaction Lilia denied with the same fervor he reserved for every emotion that threatened his stern mask of emotional constipation. At the ripe age of four and three quarters Malleus knew better than to be fooled by the old man’s antics.
One would assume since his guardian had wordlessly granted his behavior a stamp of amused approval then Malleus would escape criticism entirely.
One would be mistaken.
Despite their age difference, his brother was never one to scold him. Silver was far too soft for that, willing to indulge every single one of the young fae’s whims even if they landed him in trouble. Of course, if he wished to continue acting as Malleus’s accomplice in his elaborate schemes of mischief, he had a long way to go before he proved himself useful, his pitiful attempts at lying that always left his cheeks burning with the distinct shade of overripe apples, his lips fluttering between stammered excuses and his weak tongue dissolving in remorseful confessions in front of Lilia’s unimpressed glare leaving much room for improvement.
But even if Silver’s honesty ended with both of them facing the wall for the remainder of the evening with the putrid stench of Lilia’s latest culinary creation drenching through cloth and skin alike and following after them for days to come like a persistently rotten fog drawing away even the most curious of flies, Malleus wouldn’t have it any other way.
And yet the older boy was quick to turn his back on him the moment he so much as flashed his fangs toward one unfortunate creature or another. The valiant way Silver would spring to the defense of his stupid bird friends or his daft bunny companions never failed to put the young fae in a foul mood, his sworn knight’s rebellion over something as trivial as a scared fawn’s hurt feelings wounding his draconic pride.
His brother was supposed to take his side no matter what!
Malleus had shared his thoughts on the matter, perhaps not through words but he believed his point successfully conveyed through treatments of silence, and yet Silver had refused to relent, going as far as to take it upon himself to introduce the little dragon to his friends in the hopes of them bonding and putting an end to the era of terror once and for all. He’d even taken a page out of Lilia’s book and asked him to view the whole ordeal as another lesson aiming to boost the fae prince’s relation with his loyal subjects.
Malleus was deeply proud of his brother’s valiant attempt at manipulation. It may not have convinced the fae in the slightest, but at the very least Silver had refrained from crumbling into tears and pleading forgiveness for his dishonesty, which was an undeniable improvement. Entertaining his brother’s antics was a fitting reward.
Under Silver’s patient guidance, he learned the proper way to stroke a rabbit’s fur to coax pleased little rumbles from its belly, how to amuse newborn fawns without provoking their mothers’ protective wrath, which seeds earned delighted chirps from birds and which inspired visible offense, and even the safest method of extracting a thorn from the paw of a deeply uncooperative fox -a skill that may have earned him a couple of scratches before reaching perfection.
The woodland creatures remained deeply suspicious of him on principle, but over time they begrudgingly accepted that if Silver trusted the little dragon enough to keep him close, perhaps they could survive doing the same in the safety of their shepherd’s presence.
But Silver wasn’t here now.
“Hello.” came Malleus’s cheerful voice and the little white bunny snapped its head toward the lurking prince, its blood-red eyes widening at the fae’s sudden closeness. A pair of disproportionately large feet sent the creature bouncing in an instant, its furry ears tucked cowardly against its skull, but Malleus’s draconic reflexes were quick as the lightning tingling beneath his fingertips, and his scaly hands were latched into the scruff of the bunny’s neck within the span of a shattered breath.
“Didn’t your mother teach you that it’s rude not to greet someone?” he asked, his voice dropping in a theatrical display of offense, as he lifted the petrified creature at the level of his eyes, allowing fidgety red and sly green to lock in a game of tag between prey and predator. A clicking sound slipped past his tongue, dressed in the unmistakable disappointment of a guardian sporting a sour expression that promised a painfully long lecture, but unlike Lilia, Malleus always wore his heart on his sleeve.
The little dragon’s jet lips parted into an open grin, revealing a pair of sharp fangs that caught the glimmer of the scant light dancing languidly across the length of pearly blades and slitted emerald lakes alike. The ominous sight of the fae’s cavernous jaws was enough to send the nervous animal into a panic, thrashing against the cage of gradient digits hard enough for Malleus to tighten his hold lest the foolish creature ended up crashing against the ground and foolishly hurting itself.
“It’s dangerous letting people sneak up on you. But I can help with that.”, the young fae offered as he raised his free hand and allowed his magic to flow freely, spilling in viridian ribbons of arcane that curled around his flesh like slithering serpents.
The vicious flaying was brought to an instant halt upon the ominous sight of the dragon’s unfurling powers, as the little bunny’s irises shrunk into tiny rubies before disappearing entirely, hidden beneath scrunched eyelids bracing for impact. Malleus smiled as his magic surged forward, gentle and controlled, bathing the shivering creature in its emerald embrace only to melt away in a glimmering drizzle of snowflakes after the young fae’s promise was fulfilled.
The creatures of the forest could try, but he doubted anything could sneak up on the helpless bunny anymore.
Not with his brand-new set of wolf ears that was.
The woods were at their most quiet at this hour with the morning creatures retiring for the day and the nocturnal beings yet to stir from below the endless skyline of bleeding colors. It was so peaceful, in fact, Malleus was positive that the only noise echoing for miles was the hearty sound of his laughter, spilling from his jet lips like a gurgling river, dancing across the clustered treetops in the eerily persistence of a pixie’s bell-like pitch.
His whole frame shook with amusement as he lowered the animal on the ground, watching its tiny features morph into confusion for the briefest moment, before survival instincts took hold of the helm once again and the creature was gone in a flurry of white fur, bouncing frantically away from Malleus until the forest had swallowed it whole.
He’d already offered his creative approach on nature’s dull designs countless times, from bestowing squirrel-like teeth upon birds and rosy pig tails upon bewildered does, but this was by far his crowning accomplishment, the idea of a bunny dressed in wolf’s clothing beyond hilarious. He made sure to school his expression into a mast of neutrality lest it rose suspicion, because he didn’t need a pair of highly perceptive wolf ears to recognize the pattering sound of his brother’s frantic footsteps approaching.
“Malleus!” Silver’s urgent voice came from behind and Malleus wove his arms beneath his back, bringing back his façade of innocence as he waited for the other boy to catch up. In no more than a moment Silver was doubled over himself, hands braced against his knees struggling to catch his breath between labored inhales.
The little dragon may have slightly miscalculated the coordinates of his landing. He’d meant to touch down close to the boy, not force Silver to chase him through the forest, but he supposed his brother wasn’t the only one in room for improvement, Malleus could bear touch up a couple of things himself. Not that Silver was going to complain about something as trivial as having to track down the young prince.
Not when he had more important matters to complain about.
“You’re not supposed to fly this high Malleus. Besides, Lilia said to be back before sundown-”
“-because it's dangerous to walk alone in the forbidden forest.”, the fae provided, his voice lowering to the raspy timbre of their guardian’s usual grumpy tone as he delivered his all-time-favorite saying.
“I know. He says it every time.”, he muttered begrudgingly, although now the irritable veil coating his words was entirely his. It didn’t linger for long, gone before it’d even registered, as a sly grin overtook his features and his voice climbed back to the high-pitched self-assured tone it was meant for, “But I wasn’t walking. And I am not alone. I have you. You have me. No rules were broken.”, he pointed out, shrugging his shoulders for good measure.
“I guess, if you put it like that…” Silver mumbled, his snow-kissed brows furrowing in concentration as he reviewed the dragon’s argument, fingers absently resting against his chin in a near flawless imitation of the contemplative gesture Lilia wore when lost in thought. It took a rather prolonged moment of consideration before the boy was shaking his head, his thoughts catching up with the young fae’s mischief, “No wait! Stop using fae logic against me.”
“Oh, come on! Five more minutes!” Malleus pressed, tugging the older boy closer, mindful of his gloves, pulling until he’d reached the optimal distance that would allow him to unleash the most powerful weapon in the artillery of persuasion; a set of irresistible puppy eyes.
It had taken years to refine his technique, honing his skills until perfection and to this day he’d managed to conquer the general’s impenetrable defenses a total number of six and a half times -with that half occasion still springing cause for debate within their family’s members-, an all in all unprecedented record in the history of Briar Valley. In all honesty, Silver didn’t stand a chance.
So, he tilted his head downward and lifted his gaze, aiming squarely in the depths of the other boy’s eyes, as he rested Silver’s palm against his chest, guiding his lower lip to a slight quiver to increase the desired effect. The slits within his eyes widened into dark moons bathing in a thin ring of emerald that caught the scant light of the receding day in its throes, as his brows rose in quiet pleading.
To his credit, Silver managed to resist for a whole of two seconds, a brand-new achievement to add to his record, before melting against Malleus’s charm. His eyelids slipped closed in a display of grim defeat, his rosy lips parting to release a blighted sigh, as the human opposition succumbed to the undeniable paramountcy of the fae. Malleus had half a mind not to laugh in his face.
“Fine but if you take more, you're eating my dinner too.”, the boy laid his conditions, pointing a gloved finger toward the elated fae bouncing triumphantly around him like a restless bunny. The victorious dance was brought to a halt as Malleus considered Silver’s grim terms.
A foxy grin stretched across the dragon’s face.
“Only if you catch me.”
And just like that, Malleus took to the skies once more, dark draconic wings unfurling to cast their shadow over the startled human before the fae’s body launched into the heavens, climbing past the towering crests of oak and pine until Silver’s form was drowned beneath the canopy of leaves.
Frantic calls of his name echoed once more, but this time Malleus resumed indulging in his favorite thing in the world, unhampered by his brother’s fading cries and when he tired himself of flying and sought the steadiness of land by lowering himself on the ground in an equally clumsy descent, the distance he’d put between himself and the human was entirely deliberate.
His ears perked curiously, searching for the familiar sound of his brother’s steps raining against the ground, chasing after him like a loyal knight protecting his prince.
What he heard drained every trace of a smile from his face.
“I told you we'd get lost if we took that turn.”, a gruff voice rang, low and annoyed and close. Alarmingly close.
“As if you had a better plan.”, another piped in, loud and defensive, accompanied by the slight stir of the wind. Gesturing, most likely. “I didn’t see you making any complaints there.”
Outsiders.
Malleus froze in place, shoulders rising high enough to brush against his ears, gradient digits curling into fists tight enough to paint his dark knuckles a faded gray, as he forced his breathing to a quiet pace. His wings began to shiver treacherously, ruffling the verdant leaves of a nearby bush with their jagged edges, prompting the little dragon to tuck them safely against his chest lest their restlessness betrayed him.
It wasn’t the first time the little dragon had come face to face with a stranger. Despite living isolated from the rest of the world, the forest had no shortage of residents, both the furry and the fleshy kind. Lilia had trained them to elude the tempting invitations of forest nymphs, the arcane outbursts of territorial pixies, the vengeful cries of bitter kelpies or the gentle offerings of lingering spirits beckoning them to join them beyond the barriers of the living world. Most magical creatures knew better than approaching them, but there were always those foolish enough to encroach upon Lilia’s sigils draped protectively over both him and Silver.
For all his affinity for getting beneath their guardian’s skin, Malleus wasn’t envy of the fate that awaited them.
He’d never encountered an outsider before.
And yet for all their unfamiliarity, the scent rolling over them in thick waves was unmistakable, the same essence coating his brother’s frame. There wasn’t a sliver of magic upon them, nothing that would betray the existence of an arcane core. The intruders were most definitely humans and lost by the sound of it.
Their argument continued, irritable voices blending with heavy steps to create a cacophony of sounds distracting the young fae who was struggling to recall the older fae’s words of caution, striving to remember even a sliver of Lilia’s instructions for such occasions and failing to conjure anything other than their guardian’s time-old adage.
Outsiders were dangerous.
The fae had placed protective charms on both him and Silver to alert him of such unlucky encounters, but they required a magical stimulus to be triggered, the sense of an arcane threat and there wasn’t a hint of it dripping off these men. Every lesson in survival, in magical defense and wordless teleportation drilled into him through hours of courses, was gone, lost to a web of agitated nerves.
The young prince wore his rebellions like badges of honor. Each act of defiance against Lilia’s oppressive regime served as a spark tossed into dry tinder, feeding the blaze of the older fae’s outrage until it erupted into a flurry of shrieks and increasingly creative threats. Lilia was quick to brand him defiant, disagreeable, deviant; a seed true to its fruit. The comparisons to his mother never ceased, despite Malleus knowing her only through the scraps of memory his guardian reluctantly shared, painting her with the same brazen colors.
But a howling dragon seldom bites, and right now, standing no more than a couple of feet from a potential threat, all alone, Malleus found every one of those bold qualities desert him, leaving him wishing his caretaker was there to tell him what to do.
In the absence of Lilia, Malleus took a muted breath and let the air slowly wash through his lungs and ease its way through his limbs, forcing himself to calm down. Dragons were creatures beyond fear. That’s how they always appeared in the poorly stitched fairytales hanging from the older fae’s lips. They were strong and revered and brave, capable of defeating all foes and bringing every quest to a merry end no matter how difficult or scary.
And yet, when faced with the threat of intruders barging at the threshold of his home, Malleus didn’t feel like a dragon at all.
He swallowed carefully, entirely convinced that even the scraping sound of his spit grazing past the walls of his throat echoed loud enough to be heard from miles away, gathering his coarse tail close, twisting it around his leg like an eager vine, before the rustling whispering of his scales caressing the prickly grass blades of the forest’s endless carpet gave away his position and he focused on his surroundings. Given the men’s position, situated somewhere behind his shoulder, past a tight-knit cluster of pines springing between them, a coverage he was most thankful for, he was forced to rely solely on his hearing.
It was impossible to tell whether his jittery mind was rebelling against its owner, or whether the humans were actually getting closer, but the soft sounds of shoe soles meeting grass echoed as clearly as ever.
His body moved subconsciously, taking a tentative step back, shoulders sinking into the coarse safety of the closest oak trunk, only for his foot to land squarely upon a fallen twig.
The crunching sound of splintering wood blasted across the forest, bringing both the men’s conversation and the harsh pounding of Malleus’s beating heart to an abrupt halt.
“Did you hear that?”
Silence stretched after the man’s words, burying its agonizing talons into Malleus’s tense shoulders and pulling hard enough to knock the air out of his chest, leaving the prince breathless.
The sound of footsteps was gone, or perhaps they didn’t echo loud enough to sneak past the haze of labored breaths clouding his hearing. Malleus was unsure how much time was spent like this, with him struggling to force his lungs in quiet submission, scrunching his eyelids shut so hard wrinkles splintered his pale flesh, back pressed tight enough against the tree for the rivers traveling its trunk to imprint on his skin, while the silence persisted.
Moments stretched into an eternity of stillness and eventually, the little dragon summed up the courage to chance a glimpse of the forest. His dark eyelashes fluttered shyly before peeling off entirely, revealing a pair of wide emerald irises framing dark slits, thin as blades, darting widely as they scanned the woods for a threat.
But no matter how eagerly his eyes scurried within their milky confines, searching for hidden shapes beyond the familiar canvas of green, there wasn’t a leaf out of place to be found. The smell they carried, a soothing scent he’d basked in countless of times echoing something along the lines of sunbaked flesh and soft soil dampened by the rain with faint hints of iron, persisted, but its presence brought none of the calming effect it did when he snuggled against his brother’s body to share his heat. Instead, it coaxed his scales to rise in military attendance, and his nose to twitch nervously, unable to decipher whether what he was perceiving was a fading echo of the strangers’ presence or proof of their lingering existence.
There was only one way to tell for certain whether they were gone or not and unfortunately it involved an action of bravery, a sentiment Malleus wasn’t particularly feeling right now.
Regardless, armed with a flare of determination, the type of which followed the heroes of the fairytales in every noble deed, the young fae swallowed down uneasily, nails sinking deep enough into the overlapping rivers of wood splitting the bark behind his back before bouncing away from his hideout in one swift turn, arm stretching forward as he summoned forth an emerald sphere of energy dripping of arcane light as he faced the source of the voices.
All he found on the other side of his propped hand was a bunny white as snow with a set of startled red eyes and a pair of perked wolf ears poised in Malleus’s direction.
Relief flooded him, overwhelming and all-encompassing, washing over his senses like a wave lapping across land, leaving behind a coastline of ease.
He could practically hear the raspy timbre of Lilia’s voice echoing through his thoughts as the old fae laughed at the pitiful image of the mighty dragon facing such a ruthless enemy, hell incarnate taking form in the gentle shape of the startled bunny. Malleus laughed a bit himself, as he lowered his arm, allowing the magical energy to flow back to his core of endless reserves. His eyelids slipped shut once more though this time there was no tension behind the gesture, as he decided to keep his embarrassing moment a secret from the rest of his family.
Perhaps if he hadn’t been so quick to assume victory and allow himself to be lulled in a false sense of safety, if he hadn’t closed his eyes in the face of a threat -lingering or otherwise, perhaps he would have caught the sharp twitch of bunny’s wolf ears, perhaps he’d been prepared. But as it was, Malleus got no warning before the world shifted.
“Fae!”
There was no time to react before hands were upon him, rough and hostile, calloused palms bearing crushing fingers that coiled around the thick base of his horns, a spot reserved solely for the gentle ministrations of his family indulging the snuggling dragon and pulled hard. In place of the delightful warmth encompassing his skull with each movement of Silver’s careful petting and Lilia’s absentminded strokes, a scathing flare of heat pierced through his head, a feeling so profound Malleus was certain his head had been set aflame. A shrill trill slipped from his parted lips, a displeased sound that barely registered before the grip on his horns tightened and all the young fae seemed capable of doing as his body came slamming against the ground was stare at the scant patches of receding blue peering over the canopy of green with a pair of wild widened eyes.
And then came darkness.
Pressure exploded in his head, white hot and throbbing, and along with it came inky splotches of blackness dancing amidst bursts on light, flickering like stars painting the night sky in their frantic waltz. Someone was saying something, but their words weren’t strong enough to break through the earsplitting ringing that had taken over his hearing, transforming every sound in an echo of distorted noise as though Malleus had been thrusted underwater.
Panic took over his instincts and under its frantic guidance the young fae’s body flailed with the desperation of a trapped animal, pushing to evade the man’s crushing hold that was growing firmer along his struggling, only for his efforts to be brought to an abrupt halt the moment he felt the cold edge of a blade rest against his throat.
Fight drained from him in an instant, leaving behind nothing but dread pooling into his gut as the little dragon focused beyond the flickering constellations clinging to the edges of his vision to take in the gleaming end of an axe pressed against him. A breath caught in his throat and then another, and suddenly the act of breathing that had come so easily mere moments ago felt impossible.
In a fleeting moment of clarity Lilia’s words echoed among scattered thoughts, words of caution, describing the touch iron as something scalding hot, burning harsher than the deepest fires of hell. The touch of the blade against his flesh felt cold like a kiss of winter, yet the knowledge didn’t make breathing any less easy.
The blade sunk deeper by a fraction as the man’s mouth opened and closed in wordless screams, biting into his skin enough to trade the shivering chill with a stinging warmth that trickled around his neck in an emerald river. His flesh rushed to knit itself immediately, his restoration magic itching to weave the damage and mend the tapestry of paleness to its glorious state but the axe remained in place and Malleus feared to discover how deep it could cut before his arcane core ceased pressing against it.
The manacles around his horns loosened ever so slightly as the two men exchanged more words and the world finally seemed to register beyond the tune of constant ringing.
“What is this filth doing here?!”, the one gripping his horns shouted before his poison dripping eyes turned back to him, “Are there more of you lurking around this area? Speak monster!”, he urged, grabbing a fistful of his night-kissed bangs and yanking backwards hard enough to divert Malleus’s attention from the looming threat of death and coax a pained whine from his trembling lips.
“He told you to speak!”, the other yelled before the blade lurking over his throat was removed, discarded to the side, and he was left staring at a large open palm descending towards his cheek cutting through the air like a shooting star.
Malleus braced himself for pain, but the sensation never came and the attacker’s arm hovered a breath over his face, as a set of small hands, trembling with effort, managed to pull it back with all the strength they possessed.
“Leave him alone!”, a familiar voice protested equal parts brave and breathless and Malleus whimpered in earth-shattering relief, his gradient hands reaching blindly, searching for his brother.
The blade was back on his throat in an instant, as his head was slammed to the ground by the horns, the careless handling coaxing a startled trill from the flailing dragon whose vision was once again overtaken by a haze of stars.
“Child get out of the way. Leave the matter to the adults.”, the man with the axe grumbled irritably as he tried to shake Silver away, but his efforts were fruitless against the drive of the little knight who latched himself into the attacker’s back like a persistent leech and pulled his arm so hard his face turned red as an apple under the effort. Malleus tilted his head toward him as much as his restraints allowed him to, the boy’s presence enough to breathe life back into his lungs.
Silver was here. He wasn’t alone anymore. Everything was going to be okay.
“He wasn't hurting anyone.”, his brother defended, yelling straight at the man’s ear with enough force to coax a flinch out of his thick head.
“Sure he wasn't since I stopped him! Now piss off.”
“I'm not going anywhere.”, he announced, and for once the flickering constellation retreated just enough for the human’s fiery gaze to register clear as the first light of the day, empty of the gentle sky blues and the soft rose pinks, draped in a deep shroud of brewing mauve that echoed the colors of the sky, “Let him go!”, he demanded one last time before biting into the man’s shoulder.
For all their bluntness, Silver’s teeth sunk ruthlessly enough against flesh to force a startled scream from the human with the axe who jerked away from the pain so suddenly, his brother was sent flying across the ground. Unlike the assaulted man that had abandoned his hold on Malleus to cradle his wounded shoulder, Silver was back on his feet in an instant, racing towards the young fae and yanking his arms forward with enough strength to break the grip on his horns that had already grown loose under the shock of the man.
Both children rushed away from the clearing with Silver leading, tugging the breathless dragon forward by the wrist until they’d put a safe distance between them and the human intruders. It wasn’t until their escape was brought to a halt that Malleus realized the only thing keeping him upright was his brother’s firm hold and when his support was removed as Silver stepped away to inspect the damage wrecked on the manhandled fae’s body, the little dragon collapsed into his arms.
Apart from the prickly sting flaring around the roots of his horns, the silent sign of a lurking headache that was definitely going to sour his mood for the remainder of the week, the pain had almost subsided entirely, the print of the blade on his throat gone, his skin already stitched to perfection, with nothing but a fading tear of green to prove of its existence. But the fright, the terror of all the horrible things that could befall him while he laid helpless and alone, a dragon stripped of fire, remained.
Lilia often scolded him for forgetting his strength. As with most of his guardian’s teachings, Malleus paid little mind to his words but after the accident, the one that had forced his brother’s hands into the silk prison of gloves for the rest of his life, he’d been making conscious efforts to treat Silver more softly. He’d even gone as far as to put his own bed to good use and give the other boy some space, lest the young fae’s squeezing nightly habits end up harming his fragile human body, a concern that was gaining more ground in the expanse of his thoughts by the day.
Yet there was nothing soft about the way he crumbled into Silver’s arms, wrapping his arms around him with vine-like insistence, holding him close enough for heartbeat to reverberate against his own chest, the comforting tune of his other boy’s pulse grounding him into something real.
He drunk in every sip of his brother’s scent, the thought that he ever dared compare Siver’s delicate fragrance of warm fur, sunflower seeds and dried lavender to the horrid stench of those men leaving him insulted on his behalf.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here.”, the older boy whispered gently, his gloved fingers tracing soothing circles across his back, stroking the trembling base of his wings until the tension had bled out of the little dragon’s body, and his muscles had gone utterly limp against him.
“I promise I’m never disobeying Lilia’s rules ever again.”, the younger boy mumbled, his voice cracking towards the end, as he nuzzled into the crook of the other’s neck, the overwhelming heat boiling his veins from inside out melting against the coolness of Silver’s human skin.
“And you’re starting by making a promise?”, he pointed out, his tone genuinely disbelieving in that especially earnest way of his.
A small laugh escaped Malleus’s parted lips, the warm sound brushing against the older boy’s chest infectiously, coaxing him to follow the dragon’s lead as both of them caught up with the irony of the little rebellious fae finally surrendering their guardian’s authority only to break the first law on Lilia’s imaginary rulebook. After shaking so long out of fear, shaking out of mirth was a welcome change.
Their joined chuckles had died down when Silver announced it was about time they headed home, and Malleus gladly slipped his hand into the older boy’s expectant palm as they rose to their feet.
They’d barely made a step toward the direction of the cottage, the familiar hum of Lilia’s magic seal impossible to miss despite the ocean of pine and oak stretching between them, when the fae caught a blur of whiteness flashing across the edge of his vision. His eyes followed the distinct anomaly in the forest’s endless sea of green only to find the form of the wolf-eared bunny rushing away with all the strength its bouncy little legs allowed it to.
The fae cocked a wary brow at the sight.
“Sil-” was all he managed before the whirring echo of the wind parting in two had his night-kissed head snapping toward the opposite way only for his emerald eyes to shrink into their milky confines at the sight of the axe that had been previously propped against his throat flying towards them.
The blade sunk into the thick bark of the oak tree standing behind them with a crunching sound, splintering the carved rivers traveling its surface and coaxing a joined flinch out of the two children, the space between the end of Silver’s moonlit hair and the beginning of the deadly blade no more than a palm’s length.
Malleus’s grip on Silver’s hand tightened hard enough to crush the other boy’s bones, but his brother didn’t complain even when the pressure started biting into his injury, his narrowed purple eyes focused solely on the advancing threat.
“There they are!”, one of the men barked and Malleus was finally able to see them properly.
Both were large. Their hands were swollen with muscles, their necks thick as logs and their walking pace was languid in the same indifferent way as an animal predator circling prey too weak to warrant chase. Their features were so similar, Malleus thought it was like looking through a distorted mirror consisting of dark eyes, lush beards and an identical set of receding hairlines. They looked like brothers.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”, the wounded human bristled, his burning gaze set squarely upon the human boy with pure hatred. A line of red trickled down his arm from where the older boy had bitten him, the faint print of his denture etching over the man’s skin in a dark shade of lavender that matched the offender’s eyes, “Does this filth have you under its spell?!”
“I'm not under any spell and stop talking about him like that!” Silver yelled in response, and now it was his turn to squeeze Malleus’s hand in silent support. The young fae didn’t know his voice was capable of reaching such high octaves, so used to his brother’s timidness whenever he took care of the forest’s creatures or helped Lilia through the day’s chores or even when he played with Malleus, despite the fae’s habitual exasperated scoldings urging him to lean further into the characters of their pretense games and quit mumbling his words as though struggling to recall his role.
Now, there was nothing timid about the boy holding his hand, glaring at men thrice his size, as he took a determined step forth, placing Malleus protectively behind him, “You were the ones to attack. You were the ones to strike. Not him. Now leave us alone!”
“Or else what?”, the other man chimed, his lips stretching to a challenging smirk.
Malleus gulped down at the ominous tone of his voice, his wings twitching restlessly behind him, beckoning him towards an aerial escape. With the current jittery state of his nerves, retaining control over his body would be nearly impossible even without the added threat of an axe striking him mid-flight. He would most certainly end up crashing against one of the hundreds of oaks towering towards the skies before he even reached the clouds and that was without the additional weight of Silver holding onto him.
Flying was out of the question.
Making a run for it didn’t seem like a better alternative either. He prided himself for besting Silver when racing across the fields and even Lilia himself had trouble catching up to him in the rare occasions he begrudgingly conceded to joining their games, although part of him knew his fae guardian was simply entertaining his whims rather than putting in an actual effort.
He doubted these men would extend the same lenience, so the only way the little dragon and the little human could hope to outrun them would involve a distraction grand enough to give them a solid headstart.
Unfortunately, Silver’s fight or flight response had been activated in a very different direction, one that became clear as soon as he let go of Malleus’s palm and drew out the wooden practice sword hanging from his belt, its dull edge pointing towards the double threat, as he fell into a defensive stance.
A moment of silence stretched between them before both men -in an unsettling display of synchronization that affirmed the brotherly claims- threw back their heads and laughed, the sound rolling through the woods in mocking waves, shattering the quiet and bouncing across trunks and leaves alike as though the forest itself had joined the ridicule.
“What are you going to do with that? Swat some flies?”, one of them taunted, but Silver remained in place as though his feet had grown roots that bounded him to the ground, the man’s words brushing over him the same wind brushed over the mountain and the next time he spoke his voice had been stripped of its previous screaming quality, echoing hushed and low, meant solely for Malleus’s sharp ears.
“Can you fly yourself home?”
It seemed that Silver’s thoughts had taken the same path as his own. The fae frowned before shaking his head. Unfortunately, instead of stopping there, the boy’s mind followed further.
“That’s okay.”, he said, his cold glowering eyes not once straying from the men even as his voice softened to a reassuring timbre, “You’ll have to run.”
Malleus blinked confusedly before his eyelids peeled all the way back to reveal a pair of shrunk emerald irises as the implications of Silver’s words dawned on him.
You’ll have to run.
Not we.
Refusal came immediately, as the little dragon shook his head hard enough for his neck to twinge with phantom pain, reigniting the fading flare prickling the roots of his horns. He paid no mind to the soreness. Not when Silver was offering himself as sacrifice, planning to serve as a distraction so that Malleus could safely get back to the cottage.
Safety didn’t matter if they didn’t reach it together.
His gradient hands curled in clenched fists by his sides as his back straightened, shoulders tensing in frustration though this time the feeling was directed on his ally rather than the enemy. The fact that Silver even considered that Malleus was going to leave him behind was preposterous.
The boy may be older than him. He may not carry a worthy heritage upon his human shoulders. He may cringe away from their bond whenever it passed Malleus’s lips. He may flinch and tense at the acknowledgement of their brotherly pact as though it was something shameful, something better left unsaid and after one too many unanswered inquiries, the young fae may have silently conceded to keep the forbidden word confined in the privacy of his thoughts, pretending it didn’t matter, pretending it didn’t hurt.
But from the very first moment his shell cracked open, and he laid eyes on Silver, the little dragon had chosen his hoard. A brother in everything but blood.
And brothers were meant to stick together.
He was not going to run away with his tail between his feet. And he was definitely not trading his brother’s life for his own.
“You have to go back to Lilia.” Silver insisted as though sensing his unspoken thoughts, his focus breaking from the two men, his stance loosening just enough to turn back to Malleus’s taut frame and offer a small smile.
Sky blue had slithered its way back to his irises, a soft color the fae had associated with those endless days of sunshine spent in the throes of eternal green, but it had taken a glacier edge now, a cold glaze that reminded Malleus of winter. Purple persisted but for the first time it looked nothing like the hue of the surrendering twilight, no, Malleus thought it looked more like an unhealed bruise.
“I'll be fine.”, he promised.
The forest was quiet at this time of the day, quiet enough for the soft drumming of the human boy’s heart to reach the fae effortlessly. It pounded fast, faster than its usual pace, skipping beats at the edges of the melody in the telltale signs of an empty promise.
“Liar.” Malleus hissed, the poison coating the word startling Silver out of that horrible smile. More words brewed at the back of his throat equally scalding as their predecessor but none of them saw the scant light of the receding day as the man with the mark of Silver’s teeth on his shoulder spoke again. And if the fae had thought his tone sharp before, there was nothing to prepare him for the unadulterated wrath seeping through his words, hostile enough to raise his hackles in attendance.
“Defending a fae over his own kind!”, he accused, his boiling eyes trained solely on Silver, as though he’d forgotten of Malleus’s presence entirely, “His type murdered entire families. They took our children and raped our wives. And you stand by him? You are a fucking traitor.”
The man’s spit found Silver squarely on the cheek before trickling down his skin and dropping to the ground, swallowed by the prickly sea of grass and Malleus’s ears perked at the sudden racing of the boy’s heart, pounding against his chest hard enough to evade its rib-made prison. And yet the look on his brother’s face was anything but nervous.
For a moment, Silver’s eyes emptied.
The colors remained as did the round pupils floating over them, but the glint of life, the soft light that filled the gaze of all living creatures, the silent proof of a soul peering from beyond the mortal shackles of flesh and bone, was gone. Malleus had seen them shift like that under the scant light of the stars when the boy’s heart drummed fast enough to rouse the drowsy dragon from his peaceful slumber only to find the human staring into the void, his haunted eyes looking beyond the confines of their room towards a secret place, a place not even the fae’s enhanced senses were able to perceive.
For all his stubbornness, Malleus had never gotten Silver to share the contents of his dreams. All he could do was hold the boy tightly enough to stake his claim so that the nightmares may think twice about it before touching what belonged to the dragon.
A protective growl slipped between the young fae’s pointy fangs before Malleus had caught up with the action and even though the desired targets didn’t so much as flinch, Silver did, and in an instant the ghosts haunting his eyes were banished and his brother had returned.
“Do you know what we did with the traitors during the war?”, the man’s voice slurred as anger released its hold on him, and his pitch gravitated towards more dangerous waters dressed in cruelty thick enough to cut with a knife. And as though summoned by the fae’s thoughts, with a swift movement, the man’s large hand reached for his belt and drew out a steel dagger.
Alarm bells rang all across Malleus’s mind, shrill and resonant, drowning every coherent thought under the haze of their clamor as the man launched for Silver.
Suddenly the world was moving faster than the boy could perceive it.
The blade was hovering inches over his brother’s chest when Silver’s body caught up with reality, managing to evade the lurking kiss of death with a swift show of reflexes that had the man stumbling in the empty space. A growl slipped past his chapped lips, echoing equal parts deep and feral, not one bit human, before the man dived again, targeting the boy’s shoulder this time only to miss once more. Silver found himself one move ahead and as the man wasted time recovering from his failure, he traded defense for attack, raising his practice sword as high as his arms allowed him to, only to let it fall straight into the man’s chest, its blunt blade cutting through the sky fast as lightning as the boy channeled his whole strength.
The hit was clean and the sharp sound of wood meeting flesh echoed across the forest in dull ripples, the proof of a stricken target unmistakable.
The man didn’t even flinch.
Instead, he threw himself back and let a laugh spill from his mouth, a taunting sound that grazed against the walls of his throat and the folds of Malleus’s ears alike, averting his focus from Silver’s form as though his presence bore no threat. His calloused palm wrapped around the wooden blade of the weapon resting upon his chest before yanking it forward hard enough to send the boy stumbling, barely catching himself before he met the ground. With a swift motion, the sword was discarded, tossed into the darkness of the woods never to be recovered.
Silver’s eyes followed it for a single moment before snapping back at the man lurking over him, assuming a defensive stance once again, brandishing the only means of defense that remained; his fists.
This time, the man laughed hard enough to double over himself, his hand resting upon his stomach as his body trembled with mirth. The dragon hoped he would choke on the sound.
Malleus couldn’t bear to stand idly while the intruder threatened his hoard. His attention shifted away from the ensuing fight and settled on his hands instead. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he reached inwards searching for the arcane core burning beneath his skin and pulling outwards, forcing the magic out. An emerald tendril snaked around his fingers, curling around his black nails like a vine, levitating hesitantly within the empty space between his palms before fizzling out of existence.
The little mage’s brows dipped in frustration, before trying again. He lifted his chin and adjusted his arms into a proper casting stance, shaping himself into a vessel for his magic to flow, as he felt the familiar warmth of energy wash through his body, the tingling sensation of his powers traveling from the nape of his neck to the tips of his toes before reaching their aim. Ribbons of arcane light spilled from his hands, wafting across the air in the shape of a brewing cyclone, before dying down once more.
A groan dropped from his pursed lips as the little dragon gave it another try.
With every failed attempt, Malleus’s dismay grew and along with it so did the sounds of struggle echoing from the other side of the clearing.
Lilia had taught him of the importance of keeping one’s mind clear as the undisturbed surface of a lake mirroring the image of a windless sky when bending magic to one’s will. Even for someone like Malleus, whose magical core was stronger than that of a seasoned mage’s twenty times his age, taming such a volatile power was a delicate process with no place for distractions.
And yet the little dragon couldn’t help his thoughts from wandering, following the erratic pattern of his brother’s ragged breathing, the murmur of grass bending beneath stumbling feet and the sharp hiss of limbs cleaving through the spring air. Because even as his eyes remained trained on his palms, images of a helpless weaponless Silver barely evading the merciless attacks of the large man’s fists flashed before them. And every attempt at concentration was whisked by the wind, leaving behind nothing but two thrumming hearts beating in perfect sync.
Silver needed him. He needed him now. And if his magic wasn’t willing to cooperate then he was going to force it to.
Light rushed to his hands once more as Malleus buried his claws in his arcane core and pulled violently at its fraying edges. Warmth flooded him and the young mage clung to it even when it started burning, channeling emerald tendrils of light into an unstable sphere of magic that shook along its owner’s pulse. Blood trickled down his lips, thick and bitter against his tongue as his fangs sunk into his skin, willing the raw waves of magic in his control. And for a moment, his powers responded to their master’s call, wayward arcane beams stabilizing into a tame globe of green light. A smile tugged at the edges of his bleeding lips and Malleus lifted his proud gaze from his creation to join his brother’s defense.
Only to find the man that had pushed him to the ground standing in front of him.
“I don't think so filth.” was all the warning he got before a fist was planted in his face.
Gravity claimed him immediately, knocking him off his feet, his magic dispersing into this air as his head came crashing against the hard ground.
Malleus got no time to grasp what was happening much less recover, before a shoe came slamming against his ribs, the pressure rattling through his spine as though every bone had been jostled from its place, the impact hard enough to steal his breath. His body lurched to the side instinctually, knees moving to press against his chest, wings coiling around them like a safety blanket, head tucked protectively within his trembling arms as he struggled between inhales.
The young fae couldn’t tell whether the stars dancing at the edges of his vision were born out of pain or whether the night had finally overtaken the day.
Twin emerald rivers trickled down his nostrils where the man’s fist had struck him, bearing the warm sort of wetness that came with blood, the same bitter taste pooling on the inside of his mouth.
Impenetrable walls had risen over his throat, blocking the path, rendering swallowing just as challenging as breathing so instead of forcing the bitterness through their clogged defenses, Malleus raised his head as far as his position allowed him and spat. Green met green as emerald blood poured into the forest’s grass carpet, blending seamlessly into the woods’ palette but there was something solid amidst it, something that caught the scant light of the silver moon.
Under the starry haze clinging to his gaze, it almost appeared like a pearl.
The man’s foot struck again, this time from above, and Malleus could feel the shape of his boot imprinting on his flesh. A whimper broke through the fortifications of his throat, a shattered sound, but the stubborn fae bit it back before it’d left his lips, refusing to give his attacker the satisfaction of his pain. The man kicked him a third time, this time stomping squarely upon his wings that twitched closer to his chest as though trying to disappear, as ripples of anguish washed through their leather length.
He braced himself for the fourth strike, his black claws sinking deep enough into his gradient palms to break flesh, but instead of the sharp sole of the man’s foot slamming into his body, a warm weight draped over him, engulfing him whole, trading the view of the nightly horizon with a waterfall of snow. Malleus startled, jerking away from the pressure confining his body, until the familiar tune of a heartbeat reached his pointy ears and the little dragon relaxed at gentle scent of his brother.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” Silver whispered in his ear, prying open his clenched fist to slip his hand into his, “I’m here. I’m not going to let them hurt you.”
“That little leech.”, someone hissed from above and both kids tensed, their hands clenching hard enough for their joined limbs to become one, “If he wishes to take the hits, then he shall take them.”
And so, the attack continued, but unlike before, the men’s hits didn’t reach Malleus. This time, the only thing the young fae felt was the fading echo of relentless kicking slamming into his brother’s body.
“Wait. Silver stop!”, the young fae shouted as he thrashed against the older boy’s grip, wings unfurling to push the weight of him aside and failing. The human boy tightened his hold, his arms wrapping firmly around Malleus’s body, shielding him from all sides, “They're going to break you!”
“I’m alright. I’m alright.” Silver repeated more soberly, as though trying to reassure himself, and the younger boy flailed harder against him.
He could feel every strike reverberating through the other boy’s body. He could feel the weight of every stolen breath, every skipped heartbeat, every rattled bone screeching, howling, wailing, begging the world to stop and Malleus begged along with them because Silver was human and humans were fragile. Humans couldn’t stitch themselves back, couldn’t mend broken bones or weave torn flesh, couldn’t grow new limbs or heal wounded organs.
Humans could die.
For a long time, Malleus’s grasp of humanity was lacking. He knew his brother’s pupils had been fuller, his ears rounder, and his body unsettlingly scaleless but other than that, the notion held no further meaning.
Now, he’d learnt the harsh way the meaning behind the word.
The smell of burnt flesh still clung to his nostrils like a stubborn ghost, the warmth of his own flames sat uncomfortably against his skin ever since that day, the image of Silver’s gloved hands, or worse, the sight of the scars they were meant to cover, making guilt bloom heavy and cold beneath his ribs and something else; a protective feeling burning brighter than dragonfire.
That was the one that was screaming at him to remove the boy from harm’s way before things went horribly wrong.
Unfortunately, Malleus was too late.
“Everything is fine-” was all Silver managed before one of the men’s raining kicks found him in the ribs and the world seemed to stop at the echo of the worst sound Malleus’s had ever heard.
The crunching sound of breaking bone.
“S-silver?” Malleus stuttered, his wide eyes searching for Silver’s, only to find his lilac irises eclipsed by dilated pupils, a mask of shock painting his features. The boy’s lips parted but no word escaped, and shock molded into something sharper, as the human dissolved into a fit of distressed wheezes that caused his chest to convulse under the pressure of unfed lungs and it dawned on Malleus that his brother wasn’t breathing.
“What? Can't breathe?”, someone taunted from above, voicing the dragon’s horrid thoughts but instead of the distress that had coiled around the fae’s heart the spoken words brought nothing but amusement to the two men. Laughter spilled into the forest, thick and airy, its mocking echo grating against Malleus’s ears, almost as much as the weak echo of Silver’s efforts of letting air into his lungs.
“Let me help you.”, one of them said amidst sneering chuckles and strong hands latched onto the older boy’s body, pulling him upwards. Malleus’s petrified limbs sprung into action, the spell of shocked stillness shattering the moment his brother’s weight was taken from his body and the little dragon held onto him with the desperation of a drowning man clutching a lifeline, arms and legs and tail wrapping around every part of Silver, keeping him close.
He could feel the subtle warmth of the boy’s scant exhales brushing against the nape of his neck growing weaker with every passing moment. It took every piece of oxygen for Silver to force words through his breathless throat.
“Run away.”, he whispered brokenly, before he was peeled off of Malleus with a single movement and the fae fell against the ground as his hoard was dragged away.
Malleus scrambled to his feet in an instant, running towards his brother, wings unraveling from behind his back as he launched himself into the air only for rough hands to grab him by the horns and send him plummeting into the ground once more. He tried to rise again but the fingers keeping him in place tightened around the roots of his horns, nails digging into his skull hard enough to coax a hostile groan out of him.
But then his eyes drifted away from the large sack of flesh blocking his path, searching for his brother, and every bit of pain melted against his heart as the world seemed to stop.
Because Silver’s convulsing body was propped against a tree, his mouth flickering in a futile pursuit of oxygen as a pair of rough hands drained the life out of him.
“No! Let him go!” Malleus screeched, the words tearing violently from his throat as panic swelled inside his chest, pushing his heart to a thrumming pace as he thrashed against the man’s grip, his sudden spring of strength taking his warden by enough surprise for the little dragon seized the path to an escape.
“You're hurting him. You're hurting him, stop!”, he screamed as he latched atop the man holding Silver against the tree, his nails sinking into the arms that were squeezing his brother’s throat and scratching desperate enough for small rivers of red to flower beneath them. The man grumbled a curse beneath his breath, but he didn’t let go, if anything his grip on the boy tightened and a choked whine slipped through the boy’s bluish lips.
“Please! We just want to go home. We were not hurting anyone. Silver has never hurt anyone!”, he begged, his vision swimming as tears burst from his eyes, running down his face in scalding hot streams. Everything was burning; his chest, his throat, his eyes as though the fire boiling through his veins had spilled over the rest of him melting everything in its path. Silver, on the other hand, looked as though he was freezing. His skin had turned the same snowy shade as his hair, paler than Malleus’s own fae flesh, glazed with an echo of purple and his lips had almost turned entirely transparent as though kissed by winter.
A helpless sob tore itself from the fae’s mouth as terror shoved its claws deeper into his psyche.
He couldn’t understand why they weren’t stopping. Silver was kind and gentle and caring and so full of love and he was hurting. They were hurting him. Why weren’t they stopping?!
“He's not breathing!” Malleus wailed, his nails burying deeper into the man’s arms, his scaly tail coiling tight enough around them to paint bruised vines into his skin, “You're going to kill him! I SAID STOP.”
And then Silver’s glazed sunset eyes rolled at the back of his eyelids and his body gave one last tremor before going slack, his head dropping lifelessly to the side.
And then silence.
The man’s hold was released, and Silver’s dead body slumped into the ground, his dead head lolling against the coarse folds of the oak trunk, as his dead eyes turned towards the sky.
Malleus fell from the man’s back as every muscle in his body gave away and gravity pulled him to his brother’s side.
A scream echoed across the woods, the raw harrowing sound of one’s chest being cleaved open, but the little dragon could barely hear it over the violent ringing that had swallowed his ears, a relentless whine filling his skull preventing reality from slipping in. His vision blurred similarly though whether the tears still pouring from his eyes were to blame or whether his mind had decided to block the horrid sight laying in front of him lest it turned him mad was unclear.
It was as though his conscience had been sapped from his own body and all was left was an endless ocean of nothingness, a paralyzing numbness crawling beneath his chest, turning all emotions to ash before their fire burned him. His hand reached for his brother’s fallen form, peeling a clammy strand of silk away from his unmoving eyes. He looked peaceful like that, showered by the silver light of the moon that danced around his milky hair in glimmering halos.
He looked asleep.
He looked dead.
Hands dug into Malleus’s shoulders, hands wrapped around his horns, hands yanked him back to his feet but before they’d managed to tear him from his brother once more, magic spilled out of him. He didn’t need to force it out this time, he didn’t need to pull it forth against its will, this time it flooded every part of him with its arcane warmth, racing across his body in volatile waves, and when it reached the brim, Malleus released a deep breath and let it poured out of his flesh like molten fire.
Everything turned green, as though someone had placed an emerald lens over his eyes and suddenly the young fae was swimming through a viridian abyss where every sound and every image were filtered through thick ocean waves.
Awareness came to him in fractured ripples. The way the hands recoiled from his flesh as though the touch had burnt them, the way the persistent echo of screaming grew louder, as though joined by more voices, the way splatters of red punctured the endless green shroud surrounding him, like crimson lightning splinting against a chartreuse sky, all of them registered yet none of them reached him.
Somewhere along the line, the screaming ceased though Malleus didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t care to find out either.
His powers closed protectively around him, engulfing in a fuzzy sort of warmth that reminded him of his egg. He didn’t hold memories from that time, no coherent ones at least, nothing beyond the gentle humming of a warm melody dropping from smiling lips, slipping through the thinnest parts of his dark shell.
But now, a real memory resurfaced, and the boy blinked through endless green at the crystal sound of Silver’s voice, recounting his brother’s first words to him.
“I don’t think I’ve introduced myself.”, he’d said, excitement banishing the lingering traces of fear, and Malleus had felt the cool imprint of the boy’s hands pressing against his dark home, “I’m Silver. I promise no harm will come to you as long as I’m here.”, he’d sworn with all the earnestness of the world, and the little dragon had known he was telling the truth.
“I’ve got you Malleus.”
Tears poured down his cheeks, thick and bitter and the screaming returned as his arms pulled the boy’s body against him and pressed his cheek against Silver’s soft hair matted with dirt and blood.
The echo of his name persisted, but it didn’t come from below but rather beyond and Malleus lifted his green-stained gaze to meet a pair of slitted moons painted in the bright colors of burning dragonfire with edges of gold weaving through their flames, as though someone had trapped the way slivers of sunlight bathed the forest into a pair of eyes.
His name dropped like a warning from unsmiling lips, the sort he’d only seen on the verge of dreams, the kind that would sing him lullabies and leave his forehead with a phantom kiss.
The little dragon averted his eyes from the woman’s worried ghost.
But then his name dropped again, a tad more frantic and alarmed, and when the boy raised his head, he met twin pools of scarlet staring into his soul, burning wilder than his fire, echoing the grim palette of human blood. They were painfully familiar and so was the voice that came out of the accompanying lips, the voice coaxing him to wake. Malleus felt pretty awake, but he knew to trust that voice and so he did.
A small breath slipped past his lips as he let go of his magic and the young fae felt himself drained, his limbs growing heavy as lead, his muscles soft as mud, as he fell limply against an expectant chest and allowed himself to be whisked away, basking in the familiarly comforting scent of licorice, leather and sweat.
Green lingered across his vision cradling him like a mother’s embrace, warm and all-encompassing, promising eternity in a language beyond words. But somewhere deep within the fractures remains of his thoughts lay a lesson long since learned; promises were fragile things.
And so, after what felt like forever, a hand reached into his core, an entirely foreign yet impossibly familiar touch and the emerald haze began to thin, coaxed out of him like a river of water drained into an endless ocean. His magic settled at last, the storm within him dwindling into quiet waters, and darkness swept in to claim him into a dreamless sleep.
Consciousness returned to him in fractured ripples.
His eyelids felt as heavy as stones as they slowly peeled apart and Malleus blinked through the crust of sleep, struggling to make sense of the unfamiliar room surrounding him.
Black stone lined the walls, each block cut with impossible precision and polished smooth as the undisturbed surface of a moonless lake. They looked nothing like the lopsided walls waiting for him at his home; there was no mortar to bind their construction, no imperfections betraying the hands that had laid them, as though they had simply come into existence, and judging by the influx of magic seeping through their sleek surface, perhaps they had.
Furniture of polished ebony filled the chamber with delicate carvings crawling across their surface, twisting into elaborate scenes that blurred together beneath the haze of sleep, too detailed for his tired mind to make sense of. Velvet trimmed the edges, drinking in the soft green glow cascading from the overhead chandelier, drowning everything in the same emerald shade that had flooded the little dragon’s vision, or at least a duller version of it.
The place looked foreign and cold, dressed in the same gothic colors as the lairs of wicked witches in his guardian’s fairytales, all black stone, velvet shadows, and emerald light, the sort of place littered with enchanted mirrors and iron cauldrons brewing with misfortune.
Then again, he supposed the cauldrons in the cottage brewed a different kind of misfortune.
Luckily, the witch’s bed was enormous. Its mattress yielded beneath his weight like a cloud, softer than anything he had ever slept upon. It almost beckoned him back to sleep, but Malleus refused the temptation, focusing on the rest of his senses instead.
Somewhere beyond the edges of his vision, voices murmured in low, secretive tones. Malleus recognized the language. Lilia had taught it to him during their lessons, and its unfamiliar sounds had always settled more comfortably upon his tongue than the common speech ever had. It was the language of secrets, of whispered conspiracies and private jokes, the two fae would employ whenever they wished to discuss the forest’s annoying wildlife behind Silver's back.
At the thought of his brother, reality crashed violently into him sweeping everything across its path as images of the clearing, the men, and the loss they wrecked behind them flashed before his eyes. His fists clenched against the feather-soft bedsheets with the same desperation they’d clung to his brother’s limp form, the delicate fabric tearing beneath the pressure.
“He's stable. It might take a while before he regains consciousness, but he’s escaped danger-”, the voice halted and Malleus glanced towards its source to find two fae dressed in long elaborate gowns layered with frilly aprons staring back at him with wide petrified eyes.
They blinked dumbfoundedly and the young prince blinked back. The exchange continued for several awkward heartbeats with neither side willing to relinquish the silent blinking contest unfolding between them, but then, in a remarkable display of coordination, both fae seemed to awaken from their collective trance. And immediately descend into frantic chaos.
“He’s awake! He really is! Send report to her majesty immediately! She needs to know her grands-”
The carved mahogany doors standing at the other side of the room were blown open with a blast of emerald magic, the rattling sound of crashed hinges reverberating against the sleek black walls of the witch’s chamber even as the flare of glittering arcane had settled. The two stressed fae recoiled momentarily, before collapsing on the ground, heads pressed firmly against the dark rivers traveling across the marble floor as their voices echoed the same obedient tone.
“Your Majesty.”
A figure stepped through the open doors. The witch, Malleus assumed, a fae draped in black and purple silks with a dark cobweb veil cascading down her face, its embroidered end stopping short of her waist, keeping her face hidden. Horns sprung from her head, sleek and dark as Malleus’s but instead of his humble two, she bore four in total, twisting across the air like climbing vines reaching for the heavens.
The witch didn’t spare a fraction of her attention to the two nervous fae bowing before her presence, as though their existence was ornamental blending with the furniture of the room. Instead she walked past them in a languid controlled pace as though the world had learnt to wait for her, her sharp metal heels clicking ominously against the floor, her tails dragging across the marble similarly to slithering serpents circling prey, before stopping short of the bed.
A growl tore through his throat, the guttural feral sound of an animal whose territory had been breached and the young dragon bore his teeth to her in silent warning before the action caught up with him.
Her head tilted to the left from beneath the veil and even though he couldn’t see her eyes through the spider silk barrier, he knew with unabashed clarity that she was weighting him with her gaze and under the scrutiny of her imaginary stare, his body straightened, puffing his chest in a futile attempt to appear larger than the unruly image of the uncontrolled dragon or worse, the pitiful reflection of the scared child.
He didn’t dare move a muscle while the witch completed her accession and neither did her followers who remained strewn across the floor. For a fleeting moment it appeared as though even the small flames burning across the candles of the overhead chandelier froze as well. Eventually, the mysterious figure was done with her inspection and her obsidian hands reached for the cloth hanging over her face peeling it back in a slow dragging motion.
A pair of slitted emerald eyes welcomed him on the other side, a shade deep as the colors of the forest in the quiet hours of the night. He didn’t know it was possible for one’s gaze to not reflect the light.
Malleus’s first thought was that she looked old.
He hadn’t met many fae in his life, but from his few encounters, he’d never seen anyone looking as ancient as the one standing before him. Dark circles clung beneath her eyes painted in the unmistakable shade of receding bruises and deep wrinkles cleaved through her sickly pale skin in aging rivers. Fangs protruded crookedly from her closed lips, pointy enough for Malleus’s own canines to appear blunt in relation, and silk hair were pulled into an elaborate hairstyle of twisting pleats woven into a blossoming rose, intricate enough for both his and his brother’s braiding skills to pale in comparison.
The stale scent of old parchment and spilled ink barely surfaced over the suffocatingly heavy perfume of rose and sage that swallowed the room in its lingering throes.
The witch regarded him gravely without a flicker of emotion to betray her thoughts, though Malleus doubted her sharp, taut features were capable of any other expression. In fact, it looked as though her pursed lips had not so much as twitched toward a smile in the last century.
The air around her hummed with power, arcane currents boiling beneath her skin like molten fire. Malleus knew that if she turned against him, he would lose.
That was fine. He would endure any dreadful plan she had in store for him. As long as she answered his question.
“Where is my brother?”