Dragonbound: Birthrights (Book 2)
Broken Thrones

Davin shot awake, his heart racing. The voice in his dream still shook him; it still could be felt burning his ears and reverberating across his skull.

He sat up, rubbing his face. It was cool and still dark, no light shining through the closed shutters of his window. Leaning back against his pillows, he lost himself in trying to determine what exactly it was. The rhythmic beating which pulsed throughout the dream seemed to remain. A dull throbbing in his head.

The voice was quiet now, but seemed to linger even as he sat awake. The hairs across the back of his neck stood on end. It was unnatural. Disturbingly so.

After an hour of recollection, he still could not piece together what had happened in the dream. Only pieces of it were remembered, but it made no sense.

He finally got dressed and went to work. Throughout the day, he kept to himself, his mind continuously drifting back to that dream. Something about the throne. Something about a curse and death and--

A bit of commotion caught his attention from behind. It sounded like someone bumped into a table which held some small trinkets. He looked over his shoulder to see Serah who was trying to make up for her fumble.

He glanced around, seeing that she was alone. Why wasn’t someone with her? It couldn’t possibly be easy to roam around while blind.

He took a step toward her and she tensed, glancing his way. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Oh,” she instantly bowed, saying, “I apologize, your Highness...I didn’t mean to disturb you...Am I in the wrong room…?”

“Well, that depends on what room you’re aiming for,” he half-smiled. She seemed to tell, returning the smile, though it was small and shy.

“Well...None in particular, my Lord,” she admitted. “I am still learning the layout of your castle.”

He glanced around, both of them now quiet. It was still unusual to call the castle his. Finally, he asked, “Are you hungry?” She perked at the question but was very hesitant to nod her head. “Join me. I always have more than I need.”

Together, they sat on a balcony over a garden. The sun was warm, adding color to the usually ashen girl. She ate, keeping her head low and her words short.

“Your song from the other night…” he began slowly while leaning back. “What does it mean?”

She flushed a little, saying, “It is an old story. It was said to be written by a grieving queen. She had lost her heart in the midst of trying to please the world.”

“Did she lose a lover?” he asked.

“No,” she half smiled. “I lost my heart, it’s nowhere to be found,” she quoted. “I am hell bound. Hell bound, the Heavens lost me long ago.”

“What does that mean?”

“She spent her life trying to please the world. She wanted to make her family happy, her kingdom happy. In doing so, she lost herself,” she explained. “I am but an empty slate. A blanket of sorrow draped across naked, bowed shoulders. I am nothing anymore, lost to a sea of needs…”

He thought on the words for a long while. “Well, it was a beautiful song.”

“Thank you,” she nearly whispered, withholding a smile.

“Why did you choose to sing it?” he asked.

She hesitated, keeping her lips in a thin line. Then, finally with a slight blush, she said, “It seemed suiting.” He lowered a brow at her. “I can tell it in your voice, Your Highness...That you are unhappy. I thought you should know you aren’t alone…”

It remained quiet between them, the silence filled in with the distant chirping of birds within the garden.

Torin had left Lianna to visit with his mother, so he could go into town. He paced what was once his childhood romping grounds. He reminisced on old times; it was a good life. He only hoped he could provide as good a one for his own children.

He neared the training grounds where Brick often was. He had become an instructor--and a good one at that. Someone had to help Walter train, considering he was now Davin's adviser.

While walking, a few people recognized him as one of the heroes of the City of Rishana and would bow respectfully. Some of the women wooed at him cautiously, their eyes locked on him. Others, though, eyed him surreptitiously, finding his hair and tattoos distasteful.

Reaching the training grounds, he moved through to the open grounds which was surrounded by the octagonal building. Sure enough, he found Brick training a small group of large men, each with poleaxes. He barked orders and laughed as one of them fell. His eyes drifted to Torin and his face grew much more serious.

“Keep doing so, men,” he said sternly, and left them to train on their own.

Reaching Torin, his expression grew grim as he clasped his shoulder. “Glad you’re here, boy.”

“What is happening?” he asked. He was growing impatient as everyone avoided to tell him the truth.

He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again, leading him back toward the exit. “What do you already know?” Brick asked lowly.

Torin told him what his father had said, and concluded that Kane refused to tell him any details of the letters. “Aye,” his gruff voice rattled in his chest. “King Davin has been...overwhelmed with thoughts which make little sense.”

They walked the streets, and he continued in a low volume, “Walter is his adviser, he helps with decisions and makes sure that what Davin asks for will happen. Walter has voiced some concern as of late.”

“What thoughts does he have?”

He hesitated to answer, running a hand over his thick, black beard. With an uncomfortable smirk, he said, “Well, I don’t know any details...Davin has spoken with me first hand, and even then, he did not make much sense. He is very formidable; he believes that Walter is turning against him and he refuses to see it any other way. He is stressing more than usual, Torin.”

“Being king is belaboring,” Torin tried to defend him. “I understand that, but he can handle it in time.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“That isn’t all,” Brick muttered. “He remains locked in his chambers whenever he does not have any duties. He does nothing but stow away in his rooms, keeping to himself. Rumors say that he speaks to himself--”

“Perhaps I should speak with him,” he breathed lowly.

“Perhaps, little Brother, you should,” he agreed.

They reached the castle yard, the black stone standing stories above them. Although Murdock no longer ruled, the castle was a grim reminder, its stone as black as its shadow. He had to admit that it was a grand building. It stood tall and proud, and maybe one day, it wouldn't be such a symbol for oppression.

Walking within the building, Torin found it to be much less discomforting as when Murdock ruled. Davin had adopted some of the favored art of Avestitia. The paintings depicted mostly landscapes or trees. It was beautiful, warm, and inviting.

Everything seemed well. Pose for the things Torin was just told, he would never have guessed that things were unwinding.

The hall to the royal wing was quiet. Yet, from behind them, there was a mass of shouts and confusion coming from the throne room. Brick cursed heavily as he turned on heal and darted.

Torin raced after him, his heart wrenching with worry and impatience. Smoke rolled from beneath the closed doors--it was light smoke, but enough to alarm them. Walter’s voice boomed threateningly, then all was silent.

Brick nearly knocked the door off its hinges by slamming a shoulder into it. The two leapt inside to find Davin destroying the throne. It was broken and was burning, Davin’s hands red and raw from his exertion. He looked like a mad dog, his shoulders bowed slightly as he glared at Walter. His eyes shot to Brick and then to Torin.

“What’s going on?” Torin demanded.

“That is what we all want to know,” Walter agreed with a smug tone.

“Davin,” Torin stepped toward him. “Come on.” Davin’s brows lowered and the two women standing on the other end of the room stared in shock. He was so forward and demanding of their king--it was intolerable!

“Brother...” Davin paused, catching his breath.

“Come,” he said, his voice a bit softer. “Let us talk.”

“Go,” Walter hissed. “We will clean this up, Sire.”

Davin looked to Brick, who understood he wanted time alone with his brother. The large man quietly began helping Walter as they moved for the door.

Hesitantly, the king left the room, his tunic and arms and hands covered in ash and the heavy stench of smoke. They remained silent all the way to his chambers. As Davin ripped his clothes off, he tossed them to the floor and redressed.

“Davin,” Torin said sternly. “You must tell me what is happening--The Zeil--They have been alerted of your...odd behavior. What is wrong?”

“My head is wrong,” he answered with a hint of aggression. He sat in a chair, wearing only a clean pair of pants. The scar on his shoulder caught little light. The muscles of his chest and abdomen were darkened by shadows, the fire in the mantle dying off. “Something is plaguing me, Brother.”

“I am here, so tell me.”

“A woman came to see me,” he grumbled, hardly able to admit it. “I believe...she was a soothsayer.”

Seeing a soothsayer, to some, was a sign of weakness. A sign that the king doubted or worried too much for his future. Many people of Rishana avoided such people, feeling that they dealt with dark arts.

“She told me that Walter will betray me. He is a traitor.” He was unable to lift his eyes to Torin, keeping his head bowed.

“So...why did you destroy the throne?” Torin asked slowly.

He sighed uneasily, looking aside. “My mind has been foggy. I was confused...In my sleep, someone spoke to me, she warned me of a curse. I was told that the throne was cursed...So, when I woke...I felt...I don’t know,” he growled in frustration. “I felt like I had to destroy it, like it would solve everything.”

“Did it?”

“I do not know,” he shook his head. His dark brown gaze met with Torin’s and he said, “There is something I must do. This land will be forever in darkness. All the kings all the queens, all those who take seat upon the throne or wear the crown will have this plague. That is what my dream said.”

“What sort of plague?” He was skeptic to ask, but wanted to show his brother that he could talk to him. He wanted to know what Davin was thinking.

“The most dangerous of sorts,” he said lowly. “The sort to disrupt your thoughts. Your mind is clouded and you become mad.”

“Davin, you are not mad--”

“Do not tell me what I am or not,” he spat. “Torin, listen to me...I have to leave.”

“You can’t--” Davin shot him a glare and he stopped. “Brother, you mustn’t.”

“It is to save the country, though no one will believe me,” he grumbled. “You probably don’t understand either."

Torin frowned; it was true. He didn't believe it, really. He thought that Davin may have been over complicating things. Or maybe, it was a hope. He'd rather Davin be wrong than deal with a traitor.

"Walter met with a woman from Trindal-VinCar. He refuses to tell me who she was or what it was about. He claims she was family visiting from across Rishana.”

“Where did you hear this?”

“Brick told me. I trust him, I do,” he answered. “I thought I could trust Walter...But perhaps...Maybe I can’t.” He cut himself short, growling to himself as he wiped a hand over his tired face.

“I’ve gone mad. I am not myself. I focus on things that I shouldn’t. I feel obsessed, and that leads to corruption.” He ended while pointing to his little brother. "I'm corrupt."

“Why are you saying this? You are simply stressed.”

“You’ve seen me stressed,” he sighed with a slightly relaxed expression. Torin nodded, reluctant to agree. He had seen Davin stressed, and that was never something to be alarmed of. “I was not mad while we fought against Murdock. I was not crazed when we went for days without food. You remember?”

“Yes,” Torin grinned. It was a rough four days as they and Alana traveled to Kamoni to search for recruits. They had lost their rations in an attempt to escape a battle between the Avestitians and one of their own armies. It was stressful and they each may as well have held each other at knife-point.

Torin’s gut twisted as he believed Davin. Something worse was afoot, because his brother never took stress so poorly. “Whatever you decide to do, I will trust in you.” May it be a cursed throne, a traitor, or simply a mad king, Torin would help his brother no matter the cost.

Davin allowed a smile, though there was no amusement or happiness in it. “Thank you, Little Brother. Now. Be sure you tell no one.”

“Alright,” he breathed. It was a difficult task, but one he would keep. It grew silent and Torin sat in a chair across from Davin. “Have you tried to tell anyone?”

“I have,” he nodded. “They simply believe I am mad.”

“You should have come to me,” Torin said flatly. Davin watched him without a word and Torin added, “You did, didn’t you?”

He nodded. He had sent the message through Brick, knowing that he was a trustworthy man. “Thank you,” Davin said lowly. “You have been a better brother to me than I you.”

“No,” he shook his head with a weak smile. “We are equal.” Davin returned the grin and they grew silent once more.

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