19

He had never seen a creature like this in his whole life. It looked like a wolf, surely, but Lorcán knew this was more powerful and dangerous than a wolf could ever be. There were horns on his head and when he opened his mouth, fire was spurting out of it. He looked as deadly as Lorcán had ever seen a creature looked and felt. He was even beginning to be exhausted by their fight, because he wouldn’t lie to say he was stronger than this creature that dangerously guarded Zinambra, he wasn’t.

When he saw the fire the wolf had spurted out as though he were a dragon, Lorcán quickly pulled a shield all over his body and the fire went off leaving him unscathed. He didn’t know what else he would do, because he was certain that this monster would kill him at any chance it got. He wanted to call Desdemona, but he didn’t want her to think that he was so weak that with any small thing, he would call her for help.

He remembered the hairpin, and when he pulled it out, he was aware of the way the monster’s bloody eyes immediately wandered to his hand. The hairpin shone with fire and Lorcán watched as the creature began to soften, the fire within him as it began to calm. He lifted it up and spoke, “I came here to see her, she knows I'll come.” He didn’t know why he had to lie, but somehow, he knew this creature wouldn’t allow him to move an inch if he didn’t say a word.

“Princess Aranya.” The vulgar, yet scary and terrifying voice of the monster echoed as he called out her name and Lorcán stared at him as he began to dip back into the water until he got fully immersed.

Aranya, Lorcán repeated the name in his mind before he fell into the open pit and he was enveloped by darkness, but fire, by a scary ambiance he had never thought he could experience in his whole life. He didn’t know where he was going anymore, it felt as though since when he fell into the pit, he didn't have control of himself anymore until he found himself at the top of a river, and he didn’t have to be told that he had finally and magically appeared in Zinambra.

This was nothing like Zinambra, it wasn’t dark, it didn’t look scary and the moon here shone brightly. There was no scary ambiance that surrounded the name Zinambra around here and when he pulled himself out of the beautiful and flowing river, he stood there, not knowing of his next move and not knowing whether he was ready to meet Aranya.

“Aranya,” he softy called her name and didn’t know why the name sounded so alien and yet, so close to him. It felt as though he had known Aranya was her name long ago, as though she had always been a part of him and he was just getting to realize that now.

Silently shaking his head, Lorcán tried to shake off her thoughts from his mind and he remembered himself of what had brought him to Zinambra, he came here to take revenge on Aranya and her mother. And as though it happened not a few years ago, Lorcán could feel everything as though it were happening now. As though Dûsan was speaking to him at the moment.

“I’m so nervous and excited, Lorcán, I wish you’re here with me.” They had a magic mirror, with which they spoke through and they could see theirselves through it while conversing. Lorcán smiled at him, he didn’t have to tell him that he was nervous, he knew he was from the way his face looked.

“Are you not going to get married anymore? You know you still have enough time to revoke everything, right?” He asked him, or rather, teased him and he saw the way Dûsan pulled his eyes out as though he had mentioned the inevitable.

“How could you say that? Of course I'm going! I can’t back out now even if I want to, we’re already in their place. But Lorcán...” He let his words trailed off. Even though he was alone in the room Avyannah and her mother had given him, he felt as though they had ears on their walls and they could hear him.

“What is it? Should I come to the place?” He stood up and Dûsan laughed at how protective he sounded.

“Come on, it’s nothing. Just that the place looks so cold, so scary and she told me she only lives with her daughter. You need to see the huge palace they live in, just the two of them. I want to become her family, how lonely must she have been all her life? I want to protect her, Lorcán, I want to love her for the rest of my life.” Lorcán stared at him while he spoke with a soft smile and shook his head. He had always known how love was, what it could make you do, but for Dûsan, he had never expected him to become this mature.

“I'd love to see your fairy, Dûsan.” He did, he really wanted to see her.

“We’ve already agreed that you’ll see her tomorrow, after she has become my wife. With our wedding dresses, so you can have the best picture of us in your mind, don’t you think?” He smiled cheekily at him and Lorcán wished he could hug him.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married, Dûsan. Are you happy about this?” He asked, he felt as though he was missing on a huge part of his brother’s life and all this didn’t feel right.

Dûsan smiled and sighed afterward, “I’m fine, I'm happy, I'm excited, but Lorcán...” He let his words trailed off and when he looked up into Lorcán’s eyes, through the mirror, Lorcán could see the way tears had accumulated in his eyes. “I really wish you were here. I've missed our parents, you’ve been both brother and parents to me since they were killed. I miss them, I miss you. I wish I could hug you now.”

Lorcán smiled, he knew if they spoke about this for now, Dûsan would make a mess of his cheeks. “You have to tell me you love me for the last time as a single man, don’t you realize?” He chuckled to make the ambiance lightly and Dûsan quickly wiped at his tears before he smiled widely at him.

“You know I love you, I do that a lot. I don’t think I've ever loved someone like I love you, Lorcán. And I'm so thankful that you’re my brother.”

Lorcán whined playfully and held his chest, “And now it’s me that wants to hug you real bad.” They burst out laughing at the same time with so much love filled in their hearts.

Lorcán wiped at the tears that rolled down his cheeks, he had never gotten the chance to hug his brother. He had never heard of him. The magic mirror was destroyed the next day at night when he kept trying to get through him and when their magic tattoos, the one Dûsan painted in his arm vanished, Lorcàn knew he was gone, died, murdered like the way their parents were. Because they painted those tattoos and made it that so as long they lived, those tattoos will be there forever and that would be an assurance that wherever they were, both of them were fine.

He had gone to Yunabia and whoever he asked, no one knew the name of the place they went off with Aranya to. He took Dûsan’s belongings back to Kestramore and since that day, whenever he woke up in the morning, he looked at his arm with the hope that he would see the tattoo magically coming back, a sign that his brother was still alive, somewhere in the world. But nothing happened, and he had never truly believed that Dûsan was dead until today. Today, he had finally came to the place Dûsan was killed, and deep down he wanted to cry until he couldn’t feel his lungs anymore.

But grieving would come afterward, he had to take his revenge. He had to kill Aranya, her mother and whoever it was he laid his eyes on. His eyes darkened and the mahogany in them become a shade of blood and he began to roam through the shrubs, looking for a way out and looking for a path that would lead him to whoever Aranya lived, wherever she was hiding in Zinambra.

•

Jaromir couldn’t believe the woman that stared back at him, she was so beautiful to be real. He stood, just staring at her and feeling the way her love was filling his heart. He had never thought that he would love a woman and yearn for her as much as he did for Verena. He walked slowly toward her and the way she was beautifully smiling at him made it so hard for him to take the next step.

She stop and stared into his arms, “You look so beautiful, Verena.” She had nearly forgotten that her name to Jaromir was supposed to be Verena Jager. Everything she had portrayed herself as, to him, had been nothing but a lie. The only truth about her was that she didn’t lie about who her mother was, or better, who she appeared to be and their kingdom.

She reached her arms out at him, silently wishing that he would changed to Lorcán. She knew she was to getting married to him, hell, she would be yet another murderer tonight but that didn’t faze her. It was this feeling silently ripping at her heart. She wanted to see Lorcán, she wanted to get married to him, even if it would be a lie.

They stayed that way, with his hands wrapped around her waist and her hands on his arms. “You look so handsome as well, a dignified dragon prince, Jaromir.” Her smile was infectious, and he knew he couldn’t wait until they were married like he wanted to, the feelings were just too much for his heart.

“I love you, Verena.” He silently whispered and when her eyes bulged out, he softly took her lips into a slow yet passionate kiss. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to enjoy and be thankful for what she had, but even now as he confessed his love to her, all she could thought of was Lorcán. She wanted him t be the one standing in front of her, with his hand bringing her closer to him and his lips hungrily seeking more of hers.

Not Jaromir, she wanted Lorcán. What was happening to her? The moment she asked herself that question, Aranya slowly broke their lips and smiled at him, “Betla would be waiting for us at the Mourtzur, can we go?” She asked, and he was so fast at nodding his head.

“I can’t wait for all of this to be over, I want to be with you.” She smiled, and only if he was attentive enough, he would have noticed the way her lips shrunk, the way her eyes gloomed. They walked out of the room hand in hand and silently walked down the stairs before they met Betla standing at the door.

“I thought we should walk together, it would be so fulfilling to be with my daughter on her big day.” Betla smiled, and Aranya knew there was more to that smile than her words could ever mentioned. She walked toward them and stared at their entwined hands, “Can I walk her to the Mourtzur?”

He shyly smiled and peeled their hands before he walked a few feet ahead. She laced their hands and Aranya immediately shot her eyes up at Betla at the fire she felt threatening to burn her hands. When she stared into Betla’s eyes, all she could see was fire, and viciousness. “I know this isn’t the man you kissed first, Aranya. You know I will know, and there’s never a way you can fool me. I only accept this hunt because he's powerful, and I need the blood of a dragon. But whoever the man you’re protecting is, I won’t ever let you keep him away from me. Because who knows? He might be our perfect hunt.”