Aryzath tried to get his father to listen to him. When the Tünder had been taken away, Corvina released him of her magic and the anger that had been dormant reared back like a tidal wave. He grabbed Father by his shoulder to turn him around. All thoughts of respect died at the stern look on his face, unshaken by Aryzath's wrath.

"This is absolute madness, Father," he said, hands trembling when his touch was shaken away. "A war? We cannot afford to go into war! There's people suffering right in our town and—"

"Do be logical, Aryzath," the older creature said, cutting him off with a dismissive wave. "That Tünder was only trying to scare us. As if we'll fall for such a cheap trick."

A part of him believed the Tünder. They were fiercely protective of their lands if Ilayda was anything to go off about it. If there was a war brewing, hidden in the shadows with other allies — if he had interpreted the captive properly, then they were in a lot of trouble.

"Father, shouldn't we at least be cautious? Even if it's nothing more than a threat that has no basis," he said. "Please. Arya told me some things before she left. She said that the kingdom will fall to the ground if we hunted them down. Maybe this is—"

"Honestly, Aryzath!" Father glared at him, his eyes flashing in gold. "How many times do I need to tell you that to be a king, you mustn't let your emotions get the best of you. You're not a child. To rule, it sometimes means doing what seems wrong for the greater good."

Anger that had been steadily burning underneath his skin peaked then. "You mean to bow down to Sire, didn't you? To act like we're her slave. While our people are out there — suffering. And here you are, like her pet, doing what she wants."

Father grabbed him by the collar of shirt. "You will be mindful of your words, Son. Or I will have you locked up in your room."

"Yes, resort to treating me like a child whenever you don't want to hear it," Aryzath said. "Because Father, whether you like it or not, you're a coward. It's pathetic."

He had expected it. That swing of his Father's hand and colliding it on his face. He stumbled back and landed on the ground. Father didn't say a single word, proceeding to walk out of the throne room without even looking back at him.

Aryzath huffed a breath, mirth at the situation and how defenceless he was colouring his mind. Forcing himself to stand, he ignored the way his face was hurting and turned to look at Corvina. She merely raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why did you stop me?" he questioned.

He wanted her to explain. But what he got was merely a smile on her face and words that chilled his bone. "The future can't be changed, Aryzath. Hasn't your sister told you that?"

It was hard to understand how she knew that. But when she simply wriggled her fingers, his heart almost stopped beating. "You can see the future?"

"I'm not a Seer if that's what you're asking," she said. "But my demon blood is also where Sire's is from."

There had been rumours that the powers of Demons came from the same pot that Sire had been born from. But he hadn't thought that was true. He curled his shaking fingers into a fist, lifting a corner of his lips up to sneer at her. If she was going to do this, then he was going to stop being so covert and find Ilayda. Just as he was about to take a step towards the exit, she stepped in front of him.

"Move," he said.

"If you're going out there to find that Tünder," she said. "I suggest you save your breath. The war is coming, Aryzath. If you really want to save her, you need to start thinking like a king."

Her searched her face, eyebrows scrunching in confusion in lieu of his anger. "Why are you telling me this?"

Corvina huffed a breath. "Did you forget I only do things when it's beneficial for me?"

Aryzath didn't know what she meant nor did he have a chance to interrogate her when with a flick of her fingers, she vanished before his very eyes, only leaving tendril of smoke to signify her presence. If the war was coming, then finding Ilayda might be a bad choice. Words would have gotten to her anyway that they had their kind in captor.

While a part of him foolishly hoped that the destruction of his kingdom would not begin so soon, come morning, the whole castle shook from a loud explosive. He was out of his bedroom the first chance he got, running down the hallway and heading to the direction of the loud sound. The armoury decorating the hallway had tumbled down and so did some portraits, crashing to the floor.

His heart raced in his chest when he came face to face with soldiers, all rushing out in multiple directions. They didn't pay much mind to him until he had to stop one of them to question.

"Sire, you can't be here," the soldier said.

"What's happening?" Aryzath demanded, glancing around him as servants all rushed past him.

"We're being attacked," he said. "You must head to the underground bunker and seal yourself."

There was absolutely no way he was going to do that. Before he could even protest, another knight had called for the creature and he was left alone in the bustling hallway. The ground shook once more followed by loud noises and screams, some of them were frighteningly close. Aryzath righted himself up from almost slipping to the floor, his anxiousness washing over him like a tidal wave.

He had to find Father.

Instinctively, Aryzath headed up the right wing where the knights and soldiers would be. If he found Father there, then things had taken for the worst. When he reached the courtyard, opening to a large field, his breath got caught in his throat. His soldiers and knights were all lined up, armed, and ready to fight and Father was in the middle, talking strategics with them. But what really had him staring was the scene around them. The sky, unlike the morning sun he usually would be greeted with, it was dark grey and there were traces of tiny sparks falling downwards and coating the once green grass into multiple shades of colour: yellows, cyans and purples.

Aryzath crouched down and touched the dust coating the ground.

It shimmered like fairy dust and it acutely reminded him of Ilayda.

He stood up, turning around to inspect the damage and found smoke rising to the sky coming from one of the castle wings. The damage was done and everything was going to get so much worse. He forced his body to move then, lessening the distance between him and Father and pushing past his soldiers.

"Father," Aryzath said. He was wearing his armour from shoulder to feet and weapon in his left hand. There was a vague memory at the back of his mind of his parent doing just this a few years ago. At the time, he had thought he looked magnificent. Now... now he looked nothing more than a villain. "Father, you have to stop this."

"What are you doing here, Aryzath," Father said, turning onto him.

"What?"

"This isn't time for your games," Father hissed, his eyes flashing gold. "We must prepare to defend our lands and you're of no help here. Leave."

"We can't do this," Aryzath said but just as he was about to take a step towards him, Father flicked a hand and two knights came to his side, grabbing him by his arms. "Father! We can't go through with this! We're going to lose it all!"

Father only glanced him for a moment before he shook his head. "You still don't understand that sometimes sacrifices need to be made. Take him away."

"Get off me," Aryzath said. Once the knights relented, he stood straight and glared at Father. "You're putting Sire above your own family and people. I'm begging you... just this once, let this go. We can do a peace negotiation."

He had slight hope his Father would listen.

He really did.

But when Father only looked away, his heart squeezed in his chest and he found his eyes warming. Their entire kingdom was going to fall... and their current king would let them down. When a knight tried to grab his arm again and pull him away from the courtyard, he shook them off and stormed away.

What could he even do now?

He didn't have the skills nor magic to protect this kingdom or himself out there. A war was raging and with each shake of his castle, they were getting into the thick of it. What seemed like hours passed and the thundering outside of his castle grew quieter and quieter until it felt like only he was alive here.

There was a certain sensation underneath his skin, itching and crawling up and down his body in a way that made him restless. It wasn't like the one he felt when he was with Ilayda. This was more urgent and made him walk to his windows.

His heart constricted in his chest when he saw the war ongoing and the destruction it had yielded. Dust of all colours were constantly falling from the sky and what was mist covering the lands was now gone to welcome fire and tumbled rocks and destroyed buildings.

And his town... his people — there was no doubt they would be casualty in this mess.

Without him thinking twice, he rushed out of his room and to the front of the castle. Soldiers were screaming at each other as the wounded were quickly being brought into the grounds. Ignoring all of them, the buzzing underneath his skin grew louder and louder as he ran closer to the field where the war was taking place. Past the dense forest where he usually went and to the alcove he usually found himself entering when he wanted to meet Ilayda.

Smoke was in the air and fire was all around him.

It smelt like death in here.

And sure enough, bodies began emerging the deeper he went into this battlefield, some of them were his people... and some were the Tünders with wings now depleted of all colour.

It was when he was near the edge of his people's side that he saw the enemies. Coming in waves were tiny creatures that transformed into a full body just like how Ilayda had done when they first met. Wings were stretched wide behind them and magic were swirling between their fingertips.

And then he noticed the fangs and claws — ones that didn't belong to the Tünders.

They got help — and they were from enemy lands such as the Weres who were forced into submission months ago.

A large toss of magic was aimed right at his way, one that he managed to avoid as he hid behind a tree. Clangs of sword and screams echoed into the sky. Then, a large roar, ones that could shatter heavens, echoed out and silenced the field for just one second.

Aryzath recognised that roar.

A large swing of a white tail with scales that reminded him of pearls destroyed multiple large trees all at once. Father had transformed into his full form and was now breathing down fire at anyone who dared to come close. Soon, a few of the knights transformed with him, forming too large creatures in this small area.

Aryzath had to get to his Father. At least, he had to get to the middle of the battle and force a halt.

He managed to find a sword on the ground. While he had practised the art of sword wielding a tad with a wooden branch, it was still a foreign object in his hands. One swing after another at his own knights that came too close to him, he tried to find the clearing between the enemy lines.

That was when it happened.

Father's powers came to life.

He had never witnessed Father's ability. As far as he had known, the older creature had kept it close to his heart. But he had heard stories of its destruction. A fire so blue, it would act as a reaper's scythe, taking out everything in its path no matter how powerful the enemy was.

But the consequence would be disastrous.

If done in such a volatile state, the fire could grow so large, it would consume not just the enemies, but also their allies and their people.

"Father!" Aryzath screamed, knowing he couldn't be heard. "Stop! You can't do this!"

It was just then a tendril of magic found him and grabbed him by the throat, yanking him away from the clearing and into the lines dividing the two halves of the war. He coughed, scrambling to stand up once he was tossed to the ground. That was when he heard a voice.

A familiar voice.

"You," she said, right in front of him, in all her glory and armour. Her cyan eyes were bright on him but there was also anger burning on her features. "Why—"

"Captain, move!" A Tünder said as they pulled her away from a strike of a claw from his soldiers.

Ilayda was here.

She was here, in this battle. He should've known she would. After all, she was their soldier. But now he was terrified for her. The fear momentarily paralysed him.

He opened his mouth, to say anything but nothing would come out.

A harsh bump on his shoulder had him falling to the ground and he grunted at the impact, pain flaring throughout his body. For the first time in his life, he was truly helpless. He looked at Father's full form. Just as he tried to get up, a soldier tripped and fell on him. His sword clanked to the ground but not before it sliced a thin line on his thigh.

A scream ripped out of his throat as blinding pain radiated from his wound.

He clutched on it, heart racing and eyes warming, but not from the tears. No, it was something else. The panic of the situation he was in, and the future he was about to witness caused this burning sensation underneath his skin, replacing the buzzing feeling.

Opening his mouth to say something to Father, his eyes widened when he saw sparks of blue from the dragon's mouth. High in the sky, larger than anything he had ever seen, he witnessed for the first time of Father's power.

It coloured the grey sky in a brilliant blue and it caused the clouds to swirl, bringing forth a sense of power he couldn't even fathom.

And right there and then, he knew he was too late. Because out of his father's snout was fire, the same electric blue as the sky, sparking as if lightning was being forced into a ball, concentrating and ready to unleash to the world. It was growing bigger and bigger — until he was sure that lands far from here could see it.

He looked at Ilayda, who was now frozen, looking at the sky.

"No," he whispered, forcing himself then to move. "No, Ilayda!" Ilayda snapped her head to look at him and her eyes widened. "Retreat. Get your people back and leave."

But she was just standing there. Frozen.

And he could only fall back down when the ground shook, forcing him to relive the pain shooting up his thigh when multiple roars echoed into the sky, all following Father's steps to create this ball of fire.

"Ilayda, I said run," he yelled at her, his voice transformed into a growl and unleashing a part of his Dragonkind form.

But by the time she snapped herself to move, Father had already unleashed his hell upon them.

The burning sensation underneath his skin crescendoed and he almost stopped breathing when she looked at him from across the battlefield, her cyan eyes had tears in them that were now travelling down her cheeks.

She immediately flared her wings and swung an arm around at her people and her magic burst from her fingertips. They were as fluid as water and as mesmerising they had been when he first saw them and in a blink of an eye, every single Tünder was covered in her enchantment, concealing every part of her soldier — except her.

Aryzath tried to move but just as he was about to reach to her, he found himself stuck in a bubble.

Almost immediately the thrumming in his veins seemed to recognise it as the place he had touched turned a smidgen gold. His breath hitched in his throat. It was Ilayda's magic. Covering him in a barrier of some sort. And... he was reacting to it.

And then screams.

Screams and roar so loud that it had him covering himself and a flash so bright that he had to cover his eyes lest he'd go blind.

It lasted for a few seconds — but each passing moment felt like an eternity.

He could almost feel the heat from outside.

It got hotter. And hotter... until he was sure that the bubble protecting him would die and he would be burned alive.

Then, it was over.

The bubble burst around him and the heat immediately hit him in the face, forcing him to open his eyes.

And what greeted him... devastated him.

As far as his eyes could see, trees and grass and anything that could give this place life had been annihilated. There were only blacks and browns remaining and not a single... creature left to stand. The smell of burning flesh hit him in the nose and he almost gagged, his stomach turning when he couldn't recognise a single soldier — all of them were now nothing more than ashes on the ground.

Ashes that were mingling in with the colourful dust.

His heart skipped a beat when he snapped his gaze at where his Father's figure had been and anguish took over him when he saw nothing.

Just to his left of what he knew was his town... all he could see were rumbles of stones and a collapsed bridge.

Father's power took everything out.

And he knew that if he looked behind him where his castle had been, he would find none. Nothing but perhaps ruined rocks.

He turned his head at the direction of where Ilayda was, heart hammering against his chest. Forcing himself to stand up, he crossed the clearing despite the pain. She had to be here.

Her magic had protected him and he had to apologise to her.

He had to make sure she was safe.

He had to—

But she wasn't there.

His feet stumbled and he fell directly in front of where she had been and his hands landed on... a pile of dust and glass and...

"No, no," he whispered, eyes widening. "No, Ilayda. You didn't—"

She couldn't have... just be gone. She literally protected him with her magic. Surely she must've casted one on herself. But where she had stood, there was ashes. Ashes that smelt like burning flesh and... there was a piece that glinted slightly when it caught whatever light that still remained after such destruction. He grabbed it and his breath hitched in his throat.

A sob worked its way out of his body and his shoulders shook. With trembling hands, he dragged the glass piece to him. It shimmered, shifting in colours from cyan to green to blue and purples before shifting back to cyan.

And when there was a spark of magic from the piece, covering his fingers in a small tendril, in the cyan he only recognised as hers, before it dissipated into tiny dust falling onto his lap, it was then he was sure she was... gone.

A loud cry was ripped out of his throat.

The ground that had been once pure soil was dark and hard rock, and the only smell that remained permeating in the air was burned meat. Out of everyone who survived, he felt like he was the only one.

"Ilayda," he whispered, tears dropping to the glass piece that he no doubt was a part of her and held it close to his chest.

And then he pressed his cheek against the asphalt and prayed the dead bodies would cover his scent.

For he shouldn't have been alive.

Not here. Not now. Not after everything.

Sister was right.

He wished he could stop time right at this moment. Aryzath didn't want time to tick again. The burning sensation in his fingertips grew hotter and then he screamed as it enveloped his every being, the grip on the glass in his hands tightened until he was sure it cut his palm and blood was dripping to the ground.

And then gold tendrils, just like how it had been when Ilayda casted her magic, covered every single ground and travelled far and wide. He could feel it reaching to the edge of his lands, and then everything seemed... to freeze.

Just like the Dragonkind before him, his power had manifested and he could feel it immediately when it started changing the air around him. Instead of a breathable, almost lively air — it was now dead. Heavy, even.

Aryzath could only remain hunched down, covered in dirt and darkness and what was left of Ilayda.

He had lost her. And his family.

And every single one of his kind.

And half of it had been his own fault.