Children with Stars in their Veins (Chapter 16.2)

a/n: hey, thanks for checking out Starry Veins! This is the novel I wrote for Round V of LMS, and it's still a first draft! While I don't discourage any feedback, I prefer not to receive feedback on grammar! I'm not polishing this draft up yet, so I'm not as concerned about editing. I am, of course, open to all feedback, but I ask that you keep this in consideration! Thanks <3

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[Cassius]

Artemesa hastened to his side, ducking behind him as though she could actually make herself small enough not to be noticed, and pressed her cold snout into his hip nervously.

Cephas pointed at her, face bloodless. “That’s a dragon.”

He went right for his boot and yanked out a dagger he kept on him. He would rather die than admit it was there, because everyone would recognise it as a dagger Mishal had given him a few years ago and he said it was stupid, but desperate times called for desperate measures. It made him feel Tough and Cool.

“If you try to touch her, I’ll kill you,” he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he was. He was terrified, and oh Gods, he’d just threatened to kill someone. He wouldn’t, but he had to protect Artemesa, who was making a low whining noise.

Councillor Cephas stared at him now, baffled, mouth still hanging open. “Cassius?” he asked. “That’s a dragon, it’s very dangerous. I don’t know how it got in here—”

“I brought her here. And she’s not dangerous! She’s friendly and sweet and she won’t even eat from my hand because she’s afraid she’ll hurt me!” Tears began to well in his eyes and he wasn’t sure if he was really that upset or afraid. His knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the dagger. “You killed her mother! Her siblings are dead because of you! I will die before I let anyone touch her!”

Cephas looked incredulous now, but he also wasn’t saying anything as he looked back forth between him and Artemesa. Then, taking a slow step back, he said, “Come with me.”

He shook his head.

“Cassius, this will be taken up with your parents. Your behaviour is completely unacceptable and puts everyone in danger. You will come with me and leave this… this… thing alone.”

“I’ll only come if you swear that she won’t be harmed,” he said, not intending to budge an inch. “You have to swear.”

Something shifted on Cephas’ face, and he frowned. “Cassius—”

“Swear,” he repeated. And then, because Cephas hadn’t trusted him to tell the truth earlier, he said, “Swear on a blood oath and I promise I’ll come. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

Councillor Cephas opened his mouth to speak, and then took a surprised step back. Artemesa remained steady at his back.

“You’re very young and foolhardy,” Cephas said, drawing a quill out from the folds of his robes. “But you’re also smart enough to understand the danger, and I’m not your parents. I don’t like this Cassius, I don’t like that you brought a dragon back. I’m doing what I believe the Guildmaster would have, but if anyone gets hurt…”

He nodded.

Cephas sighed, and pricked his finger with the tip of the quill. “Et super sanguinem meum iurare quia non est draco est non nocere.” The blood that dripped from his fingertip pulsed and turned a glowing pink-red, flashing for only a moment before it dulled and returned to normal. Cephas put the quill away, looking irritated and still wary. “Come with me, Cassius.”

Cassius lowered the dagger shakily and let out a breath. He glanced back and met with Artemesa’s wide, frightened gaze. “I’ll be right back,” he said softly, and then joined Cephas at the doorway.

The Councillor was hasty to shut the door behind him but said nothing as he led Cassius back up and out of the dungeons and made their way quickly to find his parents.

Even though he had seen Cephas take a blood oath and knew he couldn’t harm Artemesa—he had noticed Cephas specified that he wouldn’t hurt her and knew the Councillor had left a convenient loophole to allow someone else to—his heart still pounded, pulse drowning out the noise around him. He flipped his dagger through his fingers nervously, unable to bring himself to put it down. The blue topaz at the end of the hilt kept catching on the embroidered sleeve of his jacket.

It was his mother who opened the door to their chambers, peering between them with some measure of suspicion. His eyes began to prickle without warning or will and he ducked his chin to try to escape scrutiny, blinking rapidly in an attempt to push them away. Mum saw anyway and hurried to usher them inside. She said nothing about his dagger.

Father was sitting at the kitchen table but stood at the site of them entering. “Councillor Cephas.” He eyed Cassius. “What seems to be the trouble?”

Councillor Cephas tucked his hands into his robes. “I apologise for the disturbance. I discovered your son harbouring a dragon in the dungeons. The two of you, I assume, were unaware.”

His father’s mouth fell open and he wheeled to stare at Cassius. “A— a what? A dragon?”

“Artemesa’s not hurting anyone, and she’s just a baby!” he snapped. “She accidentally nicked my hand when I first found her, and then used magic to numb the pain, and now she won’t take food from my hand because she’s afraid she’ll hurt me! She’s done nothing wrong, and the guild’s the reason her mum and siblings are dead!”

“There are record in history of people who formed connections with dragons,” Mum said. “Maybe we of the present are too harsh, but that doesn’t mean the practise is dead.”

He met his mother’s gaze and she offered him a private smile. Councillor Cephas looked peeved, and his father looked as though still stuck in the moment that the word dragon had first been uttered.

“Ida, he snuck in a dragon,” his father finally said, stage-whispering as if it might conceal the words from his ears. It did not, and he scowled. His father eyed him nervously. “The dragon could hurt him.”

“Sounds like she’s done the opposite,” Mum said. “Cassius wouldn’t lie about this, would you, sweetheart?”

He shook his head. “I’ll take a blood oath.”

“No need to be so dramatic.” His mother turned to Councillor Cephas. I trust him.”

Cephas glanced to his father. “This is madness, what of when the things grows older? This is a historians’ guild, not a hatchery!”

His mother crossed her arms across her chest. “Rascal, how long have you kept Artemesa hidden?”

Mum wouldn’t ask him a trick question, would she? But he’d also promised to tell the truth. He ducked his head. “’Bout a month.”

“If Cassius has kept her secret for a month, he’s not been hurt, and he’s formed some form of a bond with her, then give me one good reason that isn’t ‘but she’s a dragon’ to tear the two apart.” As she spoke, she lifted her chin and set her shoulders. This was Mum speaking with all her Mum Authority. Hope fluttered in his chest. Nobody could refute Mum Authority.

His father glanced towards him, uncertainty waving his features. Councillor Cephas stared him down.

“Please,” Cassius said quietly. “She’s done nothing wrong, and I love her, and I promise to raise her well. She won’t hurt anyone.”

There was a long beat of silence, before his father sighed and sat back down at the table. “The mother was a threat because someone saw her,” his father said finally. “You said that, and I couldn’t help but think about that. Councillor Cephas, the dungeons are quite expansive and last I checked, abandoned. I think this could be easily forgotten about, don’t you?”

Councillor Cephas’ brow furrowed deeply. “One chance. You have one chance.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m allowing this. A dragon.” He turned and grumbled as he left. Nobody showed him to the door, as was polite.

As soon as the door clicked shut, a sob bubbled out of his throat and he tried to bury his face in his hands to hid it. He heard the chair his father had just sat down in squeal across the floor as tears began to stream down his face.

And then he was pulled into a warm, firm embrace. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Your dragon is safe,” his father whispered to him, running his hand down Cassius’ curls soothingly. “She’s safe.”

He threw his arms around his father’s neck and buried his nose into the crook of his shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he sobbed.

A hand began to rub soothing circles on his back, and he knew without looking it was his mother. “Next time, please tell us when you bring wild animals back to the citadel, and perhaps we can avoid this sort of ordeal again.”

He laughed and melted into the security of his father’s hug.

word count:

1,448