CHAPTER THREE
Ayre quickly glanced at Ayzu. His brother nodded and they both knelt on the strip of rice. Ayre was determined not to show how uncomfortable his knees felt. Aybo, naturally, took offence upon catching the sight of his stoic face, interpreting it in his own twisted way.
“Nong Ayre,” he snapped, “I would strongly advise you to control that arrogant facial expression of yours or I will change my mind about the leniency of your punishment. You should know that I was contemplating flogging you for your disgraceful conduct in the training arena. However, I’ve changed my mind – mainly because I need you intact.”
“What do you need him for?” asked Ayzu.
“Patience, Ayzu, patience,” chided Aybo.
Ayre couldn’t believe his ears. He was horrified that his brother had actually considered flogging as an appropriate punishment for him. Flogging was a humiliating punishment that was usually conducted in public and usually bestowed upon those dragons who had been caught doing something truly despicable. Ayre was sure that shedding a few tears over one’s dying father didn’t fall into that category.
As pain shot through his knees and struck his bones, Ayre tried to shift slightly to change his position, so that he could relieve the pressure on his burning kneecaps – only to realise that he couldn’t move an inch. His head shot upwards and he stared in horror at his eldest brother, a short aborted sound of distress escaping his lips before he could stop himself.
“Aybo, what have you done?” asked Ayzu wearily. Ayre didn’t know whether he had discovered that he couldn’t move either or whether he simply knew from his reaction that Aybo was to blame.
Aybo chuckled. “My dear brother,” he said as nastily as before, “a punishment wouldn’t be so memorable or wouldn’t be considered a proper punishment if you could make yourself comfortable during it. I simply put a spell on your knees to keep them glued to the floor of the cave until I’m done talking.”
Ayre was seething. He clenched his hands into fists and gritted his teeth. Yet he knew better than to talk back: with Aybo’s cruel streak running unchecked it would only get him and Ayzu in more trouble and he didn’t want Ayzu to suffer even more because of him.
He closed his eyes and took a very deep breath, reaching deep within himself for a cool touch of calm. But just as he was about to breathe out, having envisioned himself submerged underwater, two short jets of fire burst from his nostrils, telling everyone exactly how furious he was. Ayre’s eyes snapped open, all colour draining from his face. He had never lost control like that before!
If the cave they were in had an echo it would be now ringing with Khun Pring’s mocking laughter. He was laughing so hard he rolled off the pillow he’d been reclining on and ended up sprawled on the floor. Ayre’s only consolation was that such a humiliating occurrence as losing control over one’s flame and its humiliating consequences numbed him to other painful sensations.
“Aybo, I was under the impression that you brought us here on a matter of some urgency,” said Ayzu in a dignified manner. He had spared a single disapproving glance at Ayre before sighing and shaking his head.
Ayre hung his head.
“Yes, I did,” replied Aybo. “Yet our little brother’s display has been quite entertaining. I got distracted. You know,” he added as though he had just thought of something, “I sometimes wonder what would have happened if our father hadn’t put a stop to Ayre’s desire to become a dancer – ”
His words were interrupted by Khun Pring’s high-pitched giggle.
Ayre’s whole body began to shake. It was a gruesome and painful memory that had forever marred his relationship with his father. He never stopped loving or respecting him after what he had done, but something corrosive had settled in his heart that had never healed. It had been the only time that his father punished him but his punishment had been so severe that he couldn’t move without Ayzu’s help for weeks.
Ayre had always loved dancing, but in their society dancing – a sensual but lowly form of entertainment – wasn’t considered a proper pastime for a dragon prince. He was only ever allowed to dance during his own mating dance that looked more like a battle than a dance. When his father caught him in the act, his wrath was quick and terrible…
“Aybo!” hissed Ayzu.
Aybo dismissed his middle brother’s warning tone with a raised hand – then pointed a finger in the centre of Ayre’s bowed head.
“You see – even back then – I knew that he wasn’t good enough to be a dragon warrior.”
Ayzu tried to attract Aybo’s attention again but Aybo wasn’t done grinding Ayre into dust yet.
“Look at his hair,” he went on with a sneer. “Doesn’t your lot have to wear the same hairstyle?” he asked, pointing at Ayzu’s short dark hair closely cropped around his head so that it resembled a mushroom top. Ayre’s short dark hair, on the other hand, was streaked with reddish stripes and deliberately swept back as though he was flying through the wind with two rather fancy curls falling across his forehead.
“There is no rule that says so nor is there any particular hairstyle that we have to wear,” replied Ayzu calmly. “It is true that most dragon warriors wear the same hairstyle but that is nothing more than a habit. Ayre has broken no rules.”
Aybo snorted. “You are too soft with him. He has deliberately chosen to wear a different hairstyle just so that he could stand out among his fellow warriors.”
“Aybo,” said Ayzu, “did you really bring us here to talk about Ayre’s hairstyle?”
“No,” replied Aybo; his brutish face had twisted into a grimace of distaste. “But his hairstyle is as offensive as the rest of him.”
Khun Pring got to his feet and placed his arms around Aybo’s shoulders before whispering something in his ear. The other two dragons couldn’t hear his words but they made Aybo burst out laughing. Pleased with himself, Khun Pring returned to reclining on his many pillows, enjoying his favourite fruits, while watching Ayre’s and Ayzu’s growing discomfort.
“There are two matters that I wish to discuss with you,” he finally said once he had stopped laughing. “First of all, Ayzu, I believe the time has come for you to get mated.”
“Mated?” spluttered Ayzu while Ayre mouthed the word as though he had never heard it before.
“I don’t know why you look so surprised, Ayzu. A lot of dragons choose to mate at your age. I don’t know why you keep dawdling.”
“I just don’t have anyone in mind.”
“Good,” replied Aybo. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with your plans.”
“My plans?” Ayzu frowned. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’ve already chosen a perfect mate for you, so you don’t have to worry about it. All you have to do now is start preparing for the courtship process.”
“You have chosen a mate for me?” repeated Ayzu in disbelief. “Why would you do that?”
Aybo raised one thick eyebrow.
“It is my right to do so as the head of the clan.”
“You have chosen your own mate,” pointed out Ayzu. “Why should you choose one for me?”
“I have made an excellent choice once,” replied Aybo, making Khun Pring preen beside him like a peacock. “You can trust me to choose the right one for you as well.”
“I want to choose for myself,” said Ayzu firmly. “We mate for life and we live long. I don’t want to find myself mated to someone I might never like – or love.”
Aybo looked amused, which somehow made his face look even more brutish.
“Love?” he echoed mockingly. “That’s why I should be the one to choose a mate for you, Ayzu. You’re thinking like a human – I’m thinking like the future dragon lord. We need to form an alliance with the right clan – a powerful clan whose position and resources will help to reinforce our own standing.”
Ayre’s knees felt as though someone was poking them with a burning bamboo stick but he knew better than to interrupt his eldest brother’s speech. He couldn’t understand what he was getting at. Was something threatening their standing?
“What are you talking about?” asked Ayzu, sounding as bewildered as Ayre felt.
“I’m talking about the future of our realm,” replied Aybo. “Our father is dying. Even now the heads of other dragon clans are gathered around his rotting flesh, mourning his impending departure, recollecting his many victories and his greatest achievements.” Aybo snorted. “Naturally, none will admit that his greatest achievement is also his greatest failure.”
Ayre jerked his head upwards. Ayzu had gone rigid beside him.
“Yes, I’m talking about the so-called “era of peace” that our esteemed father established after the Great Cave Massacre.” His cold voice was filled with disdain. “Personally, I deeply despise his solution to go into hiding and to erase the memory of our existence from people’s minds and history.”
“How can you say that?” croaked Ayzu in disbelief. “Father preserved our race and ensured its continuing survival in a land of peace and harmony! He removed us from humans who only ever wanted our magic and treasure and made sure that they posed no threat to our existence!”
“He turned the greatest race on earth into cowards!” bellowed Aybo, jumping to his feet. “We live in obscurity and stagnation, cowering behind a magically constructed mountain that is, in fact, a mass graveyard of every single dragon who was slaughtered during the massacre, while humans continue to live and prosper on the other side, pilfering our caves and stealing our treasure!”
“You don’t know that,” said Ayzu quietly, shaking his head.
“I know enough about humans to know what they are capable of!”
“Aybo, what is it exactly that you are planning?” asked Ayzu cautiously.
Ayre could feel a strong wave of fear coming from him, which both stunned him and told him that Ayzu already knew the answer to his question but needed Aybo to confirm his worst suspicions.
“I intend to put a stop to our pitiful existence,” declared Aybo, taking his seat once again and letting Khun Pring’s touch on his hand restore his composure. “I am going to remind humans whose bounty they have been living upon all these centuries. I will make them pay for every drop of dragon blood they have ever spilled and every gemstone they have ever stolen.”
Ayre was horrified.
“In other words, you mean to ruin everything that our father has created,” concluded Ayzu with a heavy sigh. “Do you care for anything other than your coffers?”
“Watch your mouth!” snapped Aybo. “I am not the only one among our people who believes that our father should have destroyed every single human responsible for the massacre! Now we finally have the chance to set things right.”
Ayzu pointed his chin in the direction of Khun Pring’s golden-attired form. “I see that even your mate’s great wealth hasn’t been enough to satisfy you.”
Aybo clucked his tongue. “You are mistaken if you think that this is about my desire to live like a dragon lord is supposed to live. It is about our heritage and justice. We will take back what is ours – we will rip it out of humans’ dead hands like they once ripped out our hearts from our frozen chests – and your future mate’s superior military prowess and highly-trained dragon warriors will help us to do that.”
Aybo paused. In the silence that didn’t promise anything good, Ayre’s heart began to beat fast in his chest. He tried to guess which clan his brother was talking about, but more than half of their clans trained dragon warriors, so it was impossible to tell.
He glanced sideways at Ayzu and noticed a muscle jumping in his jaw. Ayre wondered if he had figured it out. From what he could tell, Ayzu looked livid. Then something clicked in Ayre’s brain and his eyes widened. There was only one dragon warrior who could make Ayzu lose his cool.
Ayre looked back at his eldest brother.
Aybo’s thick lips spread into a malicious grin.
“Your mate will be arriving shortly,” he said. “Ah, yes, you probably want to know his name. Ayzu, I believe you remember P’Forge?”
Ayre gasped – but no one heard him.
Ayzu’s roar had filled the cave while the force of his fury destroyed Aybo’s spell.
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