~ 39 ~

The Power of Sympathy

The two black-haired beings looked at one another with weak, faltering expressions. Astria looked at the hand with her own clasped against her chest. She held. Not advancing or retreating. Keeping there. Seeking for a reason to go one way or another.

"My father didn't embrace me once I returned home," Zinnine said while lowering his hand. "But he accepted what had happened—on what I had done. He understood it. Didn't agree with it. We were too weak and few to return and reverse what I had done. My father saw that I finally had the makings of a king after that bloodshed."

His head shook. "But the people were upset. Many had died without a good enough cause, and the worst of the two princes had returned home. My father's easy acceptance of me caused dismay across our kind. For the first five years of my tenure, I held only the title of a king—and nothing more."

Zinnine looked into Astria's eyes.

"The truth is that I knew of your plan from the start," Zinnine said. "I'd known about your friend for a while, and the person I sent to scout him confirmed my suspicions. I traced your magic to his cave before the wedding. I had enough trust in you to see your plan through."

He exhaled shakily. "But... don't be mistaken with me... that if it had failed... if those people... h-had taken you away..." He swallowed and, from his hand, embers burned into the starting shape of a claw. "I would have killed them. Killed them all. Not cared who we lost. I might have set this land aflame as a result."

Astria stared at him with a hand over her mouth.

Zinnine smiled. "Thankfully, it didn't come to that, and your friend pulled through both ways." He then nodded to me. "Your ploy denied death and maintained our uneasy peace. But think of our people. The twist and trouble you put them through. Think about how they would have felt if you were so easily forgiven."

His hand dropped to his side. "Should you ever choose to return, that would be on everyone's mind. My people did not accept me for some time because of my father's acceptance. The woman who did something terrible and got away with it easily. But think of what word back home is like."

I thought about it in my head—and then it clicked.

"That... you were too tough with me," Astria answered on her own.

Zinnine nodded with a smile. "That I was too harsh. That you deserved to be punished—but not so roughly. Should you ever return from your adventures, the people won't see you with contempt. They'll think you were treated worse than you deserved. It'll put you back into their good graces."

He weakly chuckled. "Maybe enough for them to see you as a princess again."

Then his head hung. "But don't mistake me. Oh, what I did was terrible. It hurt my soul more than you could know." He hiccuped. "We're forced into such tight roles in this life. Power is all too easy to wield. But the strength to not embrace you. To not take everything back in front of everyone. To be your father instead of their king—oh, it was a tough battle, indeed."

Then he laughed to himself, crying. "What a life it has been. Giving everything up for a peaceful life—only for my family to be taken from me. To try and be a father... but lose people because I wasn't a king. Then to be a king... and find... m-my d-d-daughters... gone... one by... oh... my..."

The king slumped forward.

Crying.

My mouth opened. I felt the need to say something. But Astria strode forward, wrapping her arms over his shoulders. Taking him into a hug, the two entered an embrace. His tears continued. Little hiccups broke the silence. It seemed like the man hadn't been able to cry for a lifetime.

And everything his eyes had seen, from the day his brother had died until now, was finally released from them.

Would that one day be the same for myself? My claws raised to my eyes, and my talons poked at the scales around them. It occurred to me that I'd never cried since coming to this world. Could a dragon even cry? Did I ever cry before this life?

I couldn't see myself being drastically different from whoever I was before. You change as you grow up—but the base of yourself tends to be the same. I imagined who I was now was close enough to the person I had been before this life. But that also meant that, going off who I was, that my life before this hadn't been anything special.

Did I have a father? Or a mother? Family, for that matter?

I looked to the crying couple to see that, once again, I had been making something about myself again. I shook my head and backed away from the scene, letting the two have their peace. They broke away after a few moments, but her hand found his, and together, young and wrinkled skin embraced.

"I... haven't been hugged like that..." Zinnine began wiping his tears, "...since before your mother passed away." He chuckled. "You're just like her. I hope you know that. I hope you know that she would be proud of the person you're developing into—just as I am."

Astria smiled. "I... I wish we could have been like this before."

Zinnine nodded. "I wish so as well." He looked down at their hands, his red glow, and her golden one, at harmony, side by side. "But it seems like you've incurred our family curse after all. It's not something I ever expected you to discover. In fact, I did not believe you had the power for it."

Astria looked confused. "H-How do you mean?"

Zinnine continued looking at their hands. "Our family was cursed, long ago, by a dragon to fight dragons. The day I incurred the power of the Red Dragon, he told me the end of the Old Dragons had come. I wondered if I had the power to absorb the two dragons of this island—but the essence inside of me seemed incompatible with the idea."

Then he nodded to her glowing hand.

"But the essence I feel from you is different," Zinnine said. "I can tell that these dragons are younger than most. But something about them is different from any that I've ever known and read about. There is a change upon us."

He sighed. "And it seems like, my dear Astria, you are cast in its transition."

Zinnine looked over at me. "Would you happen to know anything about this? Have the Old Dragons passed? Has something new taken over in their stead?" He held his daughter's hand tighter, relishing in the contact—as if it might be their last moment together. "I confess that I dropped the matter shortly after my return. I tried to hear whatever news I could from the Mainland on dragon activity—but nothing of note emerged.

Tell him.

Tell him that you're a human from another world in the body of a recently deceased dragon.

Tell him that the dragon you murdered had appeared the same shortly before you did.

Tell him of this phenomenon that's happening.

Tell him that Red Dragon knew this was coming—or was already happening.

Tell him, you coward.

Tell him.

"No," I answered. "At least... I wouldn't know." I sighed. "I've been disconnected from my kind since birth. I haven't even been to the Mainland. I wish I could tell you more, but..."

Zinnine waved his free hand. "It's no trouble. Just... a mystery to be thought about, every now and again." Then his head shook. "With that being said, if the two of you are content and ready to travel, then, it's time for you both to go to the Mainland.

He looked over his shoulder to the open gate behind him. "Some of the men here owed me a few favours. Most of the port will be clear for the night." He looked at his daughter. "Your passage is already covered for. Take this as well—it's more than gold." He kept holding her hand, while handing her a pouch with his other. "It'll help you with certain people while you're there. Some of our own disbanded there during our initial conquest. They cease to wield our banner... but they still might be willing to lend you aid."

Astria took the pouch hesitantly, tucking it into the pocket of her cloak.

"The boat will take you to the south faction of the Mainland," Zinnine continued hurriedly. "They're called the Atqiue. They're the ones that most desire peace. Over the years, they've sent what they could to help us. Seek an audience with whomever you can when you're there. They could shed more light on this alignment of ours."

Then, with a final squeeze, he released his daughter's hand.

"But now, my beautiful angel, it is time for you to leave.”