Chapter Seventeen

“It’s fine.” He tossed the card onto the side table. “Don’t touch that.” Crossing his legs, he plopped down to the floor keeping his face covered. All around them, the air grew thick with the tingle of magic. Keeping his eyes covered his right hand dropped to the floor and started to trace shapes on the thick carpet. Volencia could hear him muttering under his breath.

“What are you doing?” Gregron’s eyes were narrowed at him, watching his hand move silently over the carpet. As the veins in Damion’s arms grew dark, looking like broken black spiderwebs all over his skin.

Damion took a deep breath, “Expelling magic.”

“What? I have nihility magic, and I’ve been around creation magic long enough to know what it feels like. This is not either.”

Damion only shrugged, not wasting his energy on explaining anything. They sat quietly, watching Damion work to control him magic, though why, Volencia wasn’t sure. Normally, Gregron’s face remained impassive and unreadable. But there was something different today. As if panic were starting to settle over him. His eyes were more wild than usual, his hand weaved through his hair more often. A nervous tick. Interestingly enough, she noticed Damion did the same thing. As time slipped away the black webbing across his skin started to fade, looking at first like bruises, until it finally tanned to his normal skin color. The tingle of magic in the air started the wain until he looked back up at them with a crooked smile. “Well, that was a nasty little trick.”

“I don’t understand what happened.” Volencia leaned over the card, looking at it. There was nothing strange about it’s looks, but that didn’t mean much.

“It’s a poison. Comes from the talbert plant. They grow close to my home, so I’m familiar with it. The oils on the leaves force magic out of you. It kinda feels like your blood is boiling, and the magic starts to overflow forcing it out.”

“I had no idea something like that even exists.” Gregron crossed his arms over his chest. He gave Volencia a knowing look.

“I touched the leaves accidentally the first time when I was just a stripling. I’d thought I was going to die. Since then, I’ve found it useful in certain doses for spells and potions. For those who have no magic, it increases the immunity in the body, which helps fight or stave off sickness. Very useful to my folk. After the original shield around the village failed, I had to work to keep it up. Using the talbert oils, I was able to draw on more magic when I was younger and was able to finally get to the point where I made a permanent shield that was able to hold.” Damion kept looking over at Gregron. She could see the questions building up brick by brick in his mind.

“What kind of magic do you have?”

Damion cocked his head sideways, “Both. That’s why I was able to expel the magic without actually using it. I let go of the creation magic and swallowed it back up with the nihility. I basically threw it into a void.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Gregron circled him, still sitting on the floor with his legs crossed underneath him. “I’ve never heard of anyone having both magics.”

Damion stood, hooking his thumbs in his pockets. “My parents hadn’t either. You know, it’s a little strange, don’t you think?”

“What?” Gregron asked.

“That we look so much alike. It makes me feel like I’m looking in a mirror at an older version of myself. I feel like this isn’t just a coincidence.”

The panic in Gregron’s face increased, and for the first time Volencia had ever seen, he looked embarrassed. “There is an explanation. But it would be best to have King Venron be part of that conversation. Am I right in assuming you came here with the intention of trying to help him remove the curse?”

Damion raised a brow at Volencia. “Oh no,” shaking her head, her hands flew up in the air innocently. “I know nothing about any of this. It’s all news to me.” He nodded, excepting her answer before crossing his arms over his chest and going to stand in front of the cold hearth.

“Are you my birth father?” Gregron stared at his back and shuffled nervously. “It’s okay. I know my real mother died during birth, and overall, I had a happy childhood. Nothing you can say now will change that.”

Gregron got closer to Damion as if thinking about putting his hand on his shoulder. Venron hadn’t moved in his chair at all. Still just watching with a glassy stare. Volencia perched on the sofa, shocked at what she was hearing. His hand lifted, but fell back to his side, as he turned away.

“I’m not going to ask again and will be perfectly content to never speak of this after today.” Damion’s voice was chilling. She could tell there was anger stewing in him.

“I think we should wait until the King can help explain.” Gregron turned to face his King, clearly uncomfortable.

“Your adversity to telling me makes me question why I don’t deserve to hear it from you? Are you afraid if you tell me you abandoned me, I won’t help you?” Volencia bristled, this was a question of Damion’s honor as a person, he wanted the truth, despite anything else. Volencia was suddenly aware, he would not withhold his assistance regardless of what he was told, but it gave him an absolution to prove his merit.

Gregron bristled at the comment, dropping into the chair beside Volencia. “The answer will illicit more questions which I won’t be able to answer.” Trying to ease his mind, Volencia put her hand on his shoulder, nodding, hoping he would be willing to open up.

“You are right. I owe you what explanations I can give. Let me start by telling you how our race lives so you’ll understand when I tell you, I don’t know if I’m your father or not, I mean it.” Damion’s head turned slightly, acknowledging the statement, but didn’t look directly at either of them. “We aren’t called the Dark Hive for nothing. We have a Queen. Only she may give birth to the females of the tribe. If any others bare a female, it is to be offered up to the Gods. So all the females are sisters. There are enough of them to care for the boys we have. Your mother, at the time, was the youngest of the females who could carry. I was her first choice every time. They chose us, and we were quite simply happy to be chosen. Some of us never get the chance. Some of us were picked every night. I was among the later group. The fathers never matter to our people. The males labor, and the females raise the littlest until they can be taught. The oldest teach the youngest the easiest jobs until they can proceed to the next thing. A male’s greatest achievement is making warrior young and staying there as long as possible. Warriors are claimed more often by the females. Your mother had a soft spot for me and I for her. The only time I wasn’t with her is if someone older claimed me first or the Queen intervened. So, there is a chance I could be your father. But I could not tell you so for sure.”

Damion nodded. “Why did we end up here?”

“Because of something written on a sacred wall I’ve never seen.” He shrugged, “You were to be Brambee’s first child. Something about the pregnancy had everyone spooked from the start. I remember one night your mother simply cried, all night long, after finding out they were going to kill you. She swore up and down that she knew you were special and that they couldn’t. She begged me to run away with her for your protection. At first, I refused. Then Venron and Rosencia showed up. They tried to convince the Queen not to kill you. But when she refused to change her mind, they offered Brambee a safe place to come, where you would be happy. But she refused to leave me and I refused to leave. I blame myself for what happened to your mother. When she finally got me to leave, she was heavy with child. She wasn’t strong enough for the long journey. We were found during labor, not too far from the Samanthian village. Venron brought Kirna to help. Rosencia was at home, that same day, giving birth to Princess Volencia. He tried to save your mother, but there was magic at work no one could understand.

Your mother was gone before you were free from the womb. I would have taken you with me, and we would have traveled the world, but I was never taught how to care for a child. Kirna tried to teach me, but we didn’t see eye to eye. She thought I was a bad influence on the community. When she gave me her ultimatum of leaving you with her to grow up with a family or sending us out into unsafe territory, the only piece of my Brambee left to the world… I didn’t think I was better for you than Samanthia or Kirna. So, I left at her request. Alone and frightened, your father told me to come here and speak with Venron. Everyone said we would reunite again. So, I’ve waited.” Silence enveloped them. Volencia had never known this story of Gregron. Never knew where he came from or why. It had never even occurred to her to ask.

Volencia was captivated by the layers that continued to evolve around Damion. He stood still, staring at the cold hearth for a long time. The leather sofa beneath her creaked as Gregron fidgeted uncomfortably beside her. It was her father who stood placing his hand on Damion’s shoulder. He didn’t say a word, but it didn’t seem he had to. Eventually, Venron went behind his desk plucking a book from the shelf and brought it to Damion.

“Why would it have been dangerous to leave Samanthia?” Damion asked quietly, though the anger seemed to have fled.

“Because the Hive wanted you dead. Venron was concerned others may also try to hunt you down if they knew you existed. Samanthia was already hidden and protected. It made sense for you to stay there with them rather than taking such a chance with me.” Gregron sighed, “I’m sorry.”

Venron went to stand beside Damion again, as he nodded his understanding. A book was held down at his side in between them. Outside the window, clouds rolled over the city turning the day dark. A storm was brewing, which always left Volencia on edge. Eventually, Damion reached down, plucking the book from Venron’s grasp. From here, she couldn’t tell which volume it was, but Damion’s hand slid over the cover and a shadow of a smile graced his lips.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Damion’s hand rested on the King’s shoulder a moment. “I’m sorry I cannot help you today. I need time to take this all in and do some thinking.”

They stood there in silence for a long time. Their silence was in someway a communication, in-and-of-itself. Venron eventually turned back to his chair, settling in, but now there was a sparkle in his eye. He looked more alive than he had in years.

“I’m going to head back to my room. I need time to think some things over.” Damion said, cradling the book to his chest. Turning to look at Gregron, he gave a sad smile. “I don’t blame you for any of this. Assuming everything you’ve told me is true, I have no doubt in my mind that you made the right decision in leaving me with my parents. And perhaps, it will set your mind at ease to know, I had a good childhood and have been happy.”

Volencia stood, straightening her skirts as his gaze settled on her. “Would you care for me to show you back upstairs to your room?” She asked.

“I would appreciate that, immensely.” He smiled, but it felt sad.