Chapter 33

CHAPTER33

Abraxas soared through the clouds with his son at his side. And even though it felt strange to fly with his boy, knowing that he soon would be stripping away even more of Hyperion’s childhood, Abraxas took the time to enjoy this for what it was. What no one could take away from either of them.

This was the first time they’d flown together. The first time that they’d gotten an adventure alone. Without Nyx. Without Tanis. Without even Lore.

Hyperion wheeled through the sky in front of him. His wings spread wide and the sun glittering upon his emerald scales. The long tendrils of his beard and mustache floated behind him as though the wind had untangled them almost straight. And his long, serpentine body flowed like the undulating waves of the sea.

Abraxas had never seen a green dragon up close like this. He’d never even thought it would be possible until he saw the color of Hyperion’s egg. And now? He counted his blessings for what they were. His son was the first of his kind again, and soon, there would be ever more dragons awaiting them back home.

“We’re getting close,” he rumbled, his voice slicing through the wind toward his son’s ears. “We’ll have to be more careful that we are not seen.”

“And why don’t we want to be seen?” Hyperion slowed in his wild careening through the sky until he was next to Abraxas. Almost as though the fear had gotten to him. “Don’t we want the people of Umbra to know that we’re back?”

“We want them to know we’ve returned when we want them to know. The last thing we need is mass hysteria befalling the entire kingdom because a handful of mortals saw dragons that they no longer thought existed.”

And that was exactly what would happen. The humans would spread the word, or perhaps the magical creatures. And he didn’t know if that would be a good thing, or a bad thing.

Lore would know where the rumors came from, of course. None of that would be a surprise to her or the people helping her.

Margaret, on the other hand, would know something was up. She’d get a whiff of that and wonder about Lore and Abraxas’s plan. Perhaps she would even realize that they’d brought their children over and that could only mean one thing.

He didn’t fear the other magical creatures so much. They would be pleased to see that there was more of his kind, perhaps. There had to still be some of them who saw the dragons in the sky and remembered a time when they had been the guardians of Umbra. But there was still the very real possibility that no one remembered such a thing, and all they remembered was Abraxas melting the skin off their family.

Sighing, he shook his head again. “It’s too great a risk right now, my son. Soon they will know that we have returned. Soon, they will know that our family is here to stay. But right now, we have to focus on getting the memories into you so that you know how best to attack this new stage of your life.”

“Attack.” Hyperion snorted and his wings spread wide as he plummeted from the sky, wheeled in a circle, and then appeared over Abraxas’s head. “I know how to fight already. A few measly humans won’t take me down.”

Abraxas had a flash of memory, as though he could see the future. Giant green balls of acid that melted through wings and wriggled underneath scales to burn against skin. Burning such as he’d never experienced, and he was a dragon. He was meant to burn.

Abraxas tilted in the air until his wing was before his son’s face. A wing that was ragged and tattered, with holes all through it and many scars scratched permanently on the surface of his scales. “Battle is not fun, my boy. It’s not a battle of wits where you might win. No one wins when there is a war, and we all leave with scars just like this. Even dragons.”

As his son stared at the wounds, he mellowed. The bravado that Abraxas was proud of melted out of Hyperion until they reached the shore. And when they did move through the clouds, jumping from each one as the sun allowed them, Hyperion stayed very close to his father.

If he was a better man, he might have tried to ease the tension in Hyperion’s wings or reassure his son. Instead, he only felt his chest puff with pride that even now, with Hyperion half the size of Abraxas, his child sought him out for protection.

They glided in as much cover as they could until they reached the small forest near Lux Brumalis. Abraxas remembered this place well. The Hall of Heroes where monks lived who had given themselves no leave for happiness for virtue. And, of course, how could he forget their proximity to the most evil magician alive? Or perhaps the most unfortunate.

He landed hard outside the forest, his gaze already sweeping for anyone who might have tracked them. Abraxas lifted his head, scenting the air and drawing it deep into his lungs.

To his immense pleasure, Hyperion did the same. His boy lifted his head and muttered under his breath as he picked out each individual scent. “Deer. Boar. A mating pair of foxes. Why isn’t there more in this forest? Certainly that’s not all the animals here?”

“The forests have been dying in Umbra for a long time.” Abraxas settled, certain there was no one close to them that might bother them on their journey. “I told you that.”

“You didn’t tell me they were so... sad.” Hyperion stepped between the trees, his form already loose and limber as he maneuvered between the thin trunks. “They are hurting.”

“Many people cut them down.” Abraxas shifted back into his mortal form, otherwise he’d never be able to follow his son. “Most of these trees are younger than the ones you’ve seen.”

He could almost feel the discomfort rolling off Hyperion in waves. His son was so connected to the forests and the trees, apparently it was almost like a physical pain to him. As though the trees themselves were whispering to Hyperion of all the dark deeds that had been committed here.

Hyperion shook his head and moved deeper into the young, meager forest. “This place used to have trees taller than you can stand. There were hundreds of them, all stretching as far as the eye could see. The elves came and cut down some, but not all of them. Then the humans came, and they destroyed the entire forest for their homes.”

“I was alive for it.”

“These trees are so young and they have endured so much.” Hyperion paused and gently wrapped his tail around a tree that was larger than the rest, and maybe the only one in the forest that could hold up Hyperion’s weight. “This one has been here longer. It remembers the pain. The screaming as all the trees were sliced down. Not with magic, but with axes. They bit, they struck, and the trees bled.”

“Ah, my son.” Abraxas walked up to him and gave a little tug on his beard. “We cannot stop what has already happened. All we can do is continue to move forward. Do the trees know where the dragons have hidden the crystals here? We flirt with danger if we stay too long.”

Hyperion nodded, but the frown was still on his face. He still lingered in that hatred that could easily spread like poison.

Abraxas knew that Hyperion would have fought against the humans at that time. He would have guarded the forest with a ferocity that only the emerald dragons had over such places, and he would have lost. The humans had been deadly and certain that they were doing the right thing. As all creatures were when they saw their future threatened and made a choice.

But he had known, even then, that nothing would stop the rising wave of mortals that would soon overthrow everything. And he had known as well to not interfere any more than he had to.

Time would come for the humans, and it had. Now they suffered as well.

Hyperion drew them deep into the heart of the forest. And there, the trees began to pull up their roots. These young trees were not meant to move yet. Some of the saplings would lose their lives to show them the crystals hidden in their roots.

He remained silent as his son moaned with the trees that pulled themselves out of the earth for him. They gave their lives willingly for the dragons of old, the dragons who would soon come and change the realm. But it did not make their sacrifice any more terrible or heart-rending.

The last of the roots snapped out of the ground, the sound echoing through the forest like the breaking of a neck. It fell to the side, pulling out the last remnants of the earth with it and revealing the long emerald crystals that grew jagged beneath them.

They were not for Abraxas. He knew that. Their whispers were tempting, though, even though the memories would be of no use to him.

But his son? Ah, his boy’s bright green eyes flashed with a certainty that he’d never seen before. Deep inside Hyperion’s heart, he knew his boy had heard the calls of his ancestors. Of all the emerald dragons who had come before him and now whispered that they could help.

Hyperion glanced over at him. “So I just...”

“Touch them,” Abraxas said quietly. “Tanis said it’ll all happen rather quickly after that, but if you feel any discomfort, you make a noise and I’ll pull you away from them.”

“And it won’t hurt?”

There was his boy. His young man who hadn’t been given the time to develop the strength and courage that he would need. And here Abraxas was, shoving him into being an adult before he was ready.

Before he knew what he was doing, he lurched forward and pressed both his hands to Hyperion’s snout. “If you don’t want to do this, we will find another way. You do not need to grow old so quickly, my son. You can be as you are, whole and untouched and unchanged, and I will love you no less. Your bravery is not being tested by whether or not you do this. You know that?”

Hyperion nodded, then nudged him back. “But I want to help. I want to make a difference and I don’t want to see what happened to these trees happen again. Father, I will do this for the kingdom and for you.”

His heart broke. No child should have to make a decision like this. It was wrong. He’d pushed Hyperion into growing too quickly, and he’d made them into little adults far too soon. He was pulling out of this plan, and Tanis could be angry all she wanted. He refused to make his son suffer through a single more moment of his.

But his boy had already moved forward and dropped his head on top of the crystals. And those emerald eyes that were always so bright and filled with mischief closed as he sank into the memories that the emerald dragons had to share with him.

In the end, this wasn’t Abraxas’s choice. Because he was blessed with a child who had the heart of a hero and no matter what he did, he couldn’t change that.

Rubbing at the sudden moisture in his eyes, Abraxas settled onto the ground and waited for the crystals to share whatever they had to share. No matter how long it took, he would be right here when Hyperion woke.

It took until the next morning. Abraxas almost interrupted the exchange multiple times. Hyperion’s eyes fluttered beneath his closed lids, and a few times he’d moaned. Abraxas wanted to shred the world every time it sounded like his son was in pain, but he hadn’t... couldn’t... Ah, the world had shattered around them and no matter what he did, he’d never be able to piece it back together for his boy. Not any longer.

Finally, Hyperion pulled himself out of the memories and sat up straight. His head weaved a bit like he was drunk, his eyes not quite seeing Abraxas until they focused on him.

“It is done,” Hyperion said, his voice rough and gravely as though he’d been screaming. “We can go.”

But he tried to take a step and almost immediately fell on his face. Abraxas stepped out of the way, watching his boy try hard to stand up straight. “You cannot fly like this.”

“I can.”

“You cannot.” Abraxas stepped forward, placing his hand on Hyperion’s cheek and forcing his son to look at him. “I will carry you. You will fly on my back, as your mother does. Now change.”

“I don’t...” Hyperion winced. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You are stronger than this, son. Discomfort is bound to happen, remember? That’s what Tanis said. So you are going to change and I will take care of you.”

“Shouldn’t I...” A loud click echoed as Hyperion swallowed. “Tell you?”

Oh, Abraxas didn’t know if he would survive it. He could already see the shadows in Hyperion’s eyes and the horror that lingered there. He’d seen darkness in those memories, likely more than he’d seen light.

“When you are ready,” Abraxas replied, smoothing his hand down Hyperion’s scales. “You will tell me. But no sooner.”

Hyperion’s dragon form melted away, leaving his son standing before him with glittering eyes and moisture already on his cheeks. This form was even more exhausted than the dragon, but Abraxas had no problem swinging the young man into his arms and walking out of the forest with him.

He set Hyperion down on the sands beyond and changed, before picking up his boy in his claws when Hyperion couldn’t manage to struggle onto his back. And along the flight to where they had said they would meet, a small island just off the coast of Umbra, he felt rage burning in his chest. He wanted to protect, to destroy, to maim. And he could do none of that.

Tanis and Nyx already waited for them. His daughter sat at Draven’s side, her troubled gaze locked on the flames they’d built. And he wanted to shatter everything again. His daughter should never look like that. Not once in his life did he ever expect to see her so... broken.

Tanis approached him, already in her mortal form as well. She gestured for Rowan to help Hyperion before she muttered under her breath, “I have them. They are well enough, and I will guide them through the memories. This is my purpose. Remember?”

“I do.”

“Your rage will be your undoing, Abraxas. But I fear there is more for me to ask.”

More? What more could she want?

Tanis swallowed hard. “I found crimson crystals here as well. And I think... I think you should seek them out.”

Ah, of course. Why would he be unscathed in all this? Abraxas nodded, though, because she was right. Because war took from them all. Even him.

“Where?”