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7
BRAXTON
We glided with long, indulgent strokes against the air as we moved towards the Lost Kingdom. The urgency of our mission was present, but when Dragons flew together, the combined force of their wings invoked the sound of reverberating thunder in the sky. This was the only way for us to stay invisible and as close to silent as possible.
Knowing what I knew now, I understood that Kingston was right, Evanna’s safety, and my own, were the priority. Raithian was more invested than ever in us, intrigued by me. Even without him knowing who I truly was, this had become sort of personal for him, and he didn’t seem like the type of man to let go easily of things.
Soft gusts of wind swirled around my body when the imposing structure of the palace that once stood for honor, protection, and hope for our people, grew closer. Luna, Spartan, and Tharion began to descend, while my hand continued to stroke Aeramen’s head—who snuggled against my chest, his small wings wrapping around my torso like a hug.
Instinctively, my gaze shifted to Evie and then Kingston. Something told me that if he could shoot lasers from his eyes, I’d already be roasting. Nah, he didn’t really want to kill me. He’d seemed to accept the love Evanna and I shared after she spoke with him—okay, so maybe accept was not the right word. He was tolerating it, like a father who loved his daughter too much to stand in the way of her happiness, but he was definitely not happy about the fact that I hadn’t come to him myself.
In all honesty, I wasn’t happy about it either. He should have found out from me.
Things here weren’t like in the Mirror World, and Kingston was an old-school kind of guy—proper, respectful above all—and even though things with Evie hadn’t begun in the most “proper” of ways, I had wanted to speak to him formally. I’d planned to do it the night of my inauguration celebration as an Elevated Warrior, since I finally had a title that might deem me worthy of her in Kingston’s eyes… in everyone’s eyes.
I wanted his blessing because even I knew that he was the closest thing to a father that she had.
Unfortunately, life never happened like we planned. Instead of me sitting down to talk to him about my love for Evanna, I found out about my father and the lies that had darkened his legacy in this world… A legacy I could finally make new again.
Nudging Aeramen towards my back, I cringed when his claws pierced my shoulders.
“Careful, little dude. No claws or I will leave you here,” I warned, hearing him whine his apology.
The sharp claws that had finally grown to protect him, retracted into his fingers and he curled both hands around my shoulders again, his legs wrapping around my torso so I could carry him like backpack now that we had landed.
My boots sunk into the soft membrane of Tharion’s wings after I jumped off his neck, and I bounced a few times before I finally reached the gate of the castle.
“We should have left him with Imogen when I stopped to retrieve the shirt for Braxton.” Evie shook her head.
“There was no time for a second stop. It would have taken too long for all of us to go into the Hidden Kingdom,” Kingston grunted, stopping next to us.
He was the one to propose Evie could get a shirt for me, for which I was truly grateful. It was uncomfortable for me to walk around with my disfigured side exposed, and Kingston knew that well. He had scars of his own that he wished no one could see. Scars that haunted him as much mine did me.
“We need to get in and out of here with haste,” he continued. “I know Raithian, he is planning something, and I fear we might find out sooner rather than later.”
“I’m fine,” I assured Evie as we began to move towards the entrance. Instantly, my eye glowed, its familiar golden hue capturing my vision as Aeramen and I connected, and I felt the scratches on my shoulders heal. “Thank you, Buddy,” I offered, reaching for his tail that curled around me to stroke it.
Evie’s eyes filled with wonder, not for the first time, at my physical response to the Dragons, but she didn’t say a word. Instead, we all crossed the castle’s threshold, and extended our retractable spears. Using them like walking sticks, we began to ascend the shattered stairs towards theHall of the Forgotten.
The moment we stepped inside the hall, Aeramen jumped off my back, eyes wide with curiosity. “Don’t touch anything,” I warned him without breaking my stride.
“Where is it?” Kingston asked, stopping by Dad’s trunk. The urgency we felt to find the envelope captured him too.
“It should be attached to my father’s portrait. Over there.” I pointed to the wall directly across it, and he moved the chair that covered it, lifting the painting right away.
Evie cleared things from the large wooden table so the chief could lay the painting on it. Reaching her side, I collapsed my spear and hooked it to my belt, carefully stretching the torn canvas.
My father’s face greeted me once more. Yet, after learning what I had about him—the true story—his striking image was even more meaningful to me than the first time I saw it. A real warrior in heart and spirit.
Slowly, my fingers roamed the features of his face, the black and gold arm shield that covered him, and the silhouette of the sword that had helped him bring justice to our people during each battle. He was every ounce the hero our people had worshiped and admired before he was forced to leave, to make sure I was safe.
“An idol immortalized, to be remembered forever…” I whispered, pride inundating my entire being. I was honored to be his son.
Kingston’s hand rested on my shoulder, and my gaze lifted to his, finding the same pride and emotion I felt in his eyes, just as Evie’s hand squeezed mine.
The table jostled when Aeramen jumped and landed on its surface. His attention fell on the painting, and he squeaked.“Who is he?”
Grinning, I looked up at him. “This is my father, Aeramen. The great Harbinger of Justice…”
