“So you haven’t seen Princess Manaline after the both of you stole,” Xavier cleared his throat sharply when he noticed the glare Manuel directed at him, and rectified his choice of words. “I mean borrowed, after you borrowed the gold from a stranger who might be a royal.”

Manuel nodded, his eyes distant as he gazed at Manon’s short figure slumped in a corner on the cold floor. She had wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged herself to a ball, occasionally whimpering or sniffing as the events of the night replayed over and over again in her head.

Manon caught Manuel’s eyes for a moment, and she averted them almost immediately, but Manuel didn’t miss the tears that were brimming inside. Tears she was so desperate not to let fall. Her eyes were swollen and red, a clear evidence to the tears she had shed for the past hours. She had hugged Manuel for a while and then later, settled herself on the floor in silence, a still quiet she hadn’t broken till the very moment.

Manuel tilted his head and focused his attention on Xavier. “What’s even strange is that I sensed Jardex.”

“Jardex?!” The look of bewilderment on Xavier’s face was unsinkable. “But...but…” The man stuttered out and muttered something incomprehensible in the ancient language. He inhaled sharply and clenched his fists, his eyes scanning Manuel, checking for any signs that the young prince was playing a cruel joke on him. When he noticed the eerie calm and seriousness that Manuel was bubbled in, he lurched off the chair and stood up, placing a hand over his heart.

“I couldn’t sense his emotions or hear his voice like I usually did before,” Manuel furrowed his brows, “Only his spirit was channeled inside me. And...I sensed a murderous rage just like the one he showed before he had been chained and killed.”

Xavier paled. He stood still and erect, digesting the information Manuel was giving him. “Can you channel him now?” he asked finally.

Manuel glanced at the tip of his fingers and shook his head. “I can’t,” he said dejectedly, “The energy just keeps coming and going. I don’t have any control over it.” He lifted his shirt, suddenly remembering the tattoo lines that had appeared on his body but they were gone now, almost as though they had never even appeared.

“Prince Manson and King Consort Morang weren’t able to sense their dragons?” Xavier paced around the room, his hands fumbling nervously and he whispered words to himself almost as though he was chanting something.

Manuel nodded. “No, they weren’t, but…” Manuel glanced at Manon who was quietly tracing slow and feathery patterns on the floor with her fingertips, “I’m not sure about her.”

Manon had never met her dragon or known of its existence but Manuel was sure that without her dragon’s energy she wouldn’t have been able to survive Nazim’s attack on her. Her physical recovery had been swift and almost unimaginable even for an immortal and Manuel wanted nothing more than to inquire about the incident but he didn’t have the heart to destroy her by making her relive the moments through her thoughts. She’ll tell me soon when she’s ready, he told himself.

“They’ve been put to sleep,” Xavier muttered, “A long and deep sleep.” He shook his head repeatedly, the muscles in his face convulsing and shivering. “No, it can’t be…”

A loud knock on the door shook the house, causing the sound to reverberate across the room. Manuel felt every muscle in body stiffen and he stood up, his eyes wide as they darted around the room and then back to Xavier who seemed to be frozen himself.

Xavier inched towards the door and glanced back at Manuel, who gave him an encouraging nod.

“Open the door!” a loud voice called out from outside, “This is the district magistrate. We were notified of the presence of a criminal of treason here and have come to conduct a search.” The man continued knocking three more times. Each knock sent visible shivers down Xavier’s spine.

Manuel hastened and picked up Manon, steadying her to her foot. He pressed his index finger to his lips and she nodded whilst mimicking his action. The pair treaded softly into one of the rooms. Xavier blew out the nearly finished candles in the room to eliminate the trace of a gathering in the middle of the night and followed behind them.

Xavier hurriedly pushed the wooden bed that lay in the corner of the room to the centre and picked at the edges of one of the tiles. He dug around at the space between the tile and the next until the tile loosened. Manuel was astounded as he watched Xavier yank the piece of tile off the floorboard and throw it a few metres away.

Xavier was panting and dirt mud was stuck beneath his nails. He quickly scooped them out and gestured Manuel towards the hole which was now evidently present under the tile. “I dug this passage when we first arrived here,” Xavier explained, “Thought it would be of use during emergencies.”

Manuel peeked into the hole but he could see nothing but blackness. He could hear the distinct lull of water and the flowing and thumping of waves crashing against something hard. “Where does this lead to?” he asked.

There was no response. The knocks on the door intensified. Manuel heard a muffled shout and then more furious thumping. He swiftly turned to see Xavier standing on a crooked wooden chair, shuffling through one of the shelves which were barely hanging by the bedside window. He moved aside several glass jars and finally grabbed an oil lamp before leaping onto the floor.

The chair rocked and Xavier frowned when he noticed the layers of dust coating the lamp. Holding it out towards the window, he gave it a quick blow, and watched as a white smoke of dust flew out. Satisfied, he lit the wick with a matchstick and held the burning lamp towards Manuel. “A secluded alley near the docks,” he answered.

Manuel took hold of the handle with his left hand, his gaze stopping to linger at Manon who seemed to be looking at the pit with interest. He gave her an assuring gaze and put his right foot in the passage to feel the depth of the ground when Xavier suddenly grabbed his right hand and pulled him out. The sound of a metal clapping against the door could be heard. Manuel was almost sure that the men were trying to break in.

Xavier swallowed, blinking away his fear. “Take this.” He placed a weirdly shaped ring on Manuel’s palm and brought his fingers down to close upon it. “The High Prince wanted me to give this to you,” he said, giving Manuel’s hand a light squeeze to let him know the importance and weight the object carried.

Manuel frowned. “Father? Father wanted me to have this?” he repeated, the words sinking, as he stared at the ring.

The ring was made of an ancient imperial topaz stone bended in imperfect angles and it had a messy inscription scrawled on its underside. One of its edges was chapped off and an emerald lay in its centre, its shine close to none and barely there. It was embedded with sharp and pointed spikes on one of its sides which were in contrast with the ancient remains of the ring.

Manuel felt excitement course through him when he realized what the item he was holding really was. It wasn’t a ring. It was a Drak-Nakh, a deadly weapon used by the imperial kings years ago to inflict pain quickly and efficiently. Its making had been banned by his great-grandfather, King Manlin I.

Xavier nodded. “Yes, the master told me that if one day,” he broke off, “if you are ever able to sense your dragon...he wanted me to pass on this family heirloom to you. He wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry that he couldn’t do it himself and that…”

Manuel felt his heart clench. He drowned the emotions that were threatening to overflow and retracted his hand, clenching the Drak-Nakh tightly and slipping it into his ring finger. He positioned it the way he had read about in the ancient scribes during his time in the Imperial Library in the Palace with the spikes facing his palm.

“Keep it safely,” Xavier gave him a lingering look.

The corner of Manuel’s lips twitched and he inclined his head. “I will,” he said resolutely and leaped into the pit, grunting when his feet met solid ground. He was surrounded by firm mud which had been molded into a passage which stretched towards his left. Manuel held the lamp up higher and aided Manon as she landed next to him. He heard the sound of the glass window in the room above shatter, followed by the loud thump of something falling out.

“That should keep them occupied for a bit,” Xavier said, leaning into the pit and smiling sadly,“I hope you get to safety and find the princess.”

Manuel gave him an assuring nod and basked in the shadows as Xavier placed the tile back in place, sealing the passage. He took hold of Manon’s hand and the pair trudged down the seemingly endless path.