Chapter 126

FELIX

The end was here.

For centuries, Fresonia had been a kingdom of peace, managing to avoid both worldwide and civil conflict. Now, in the few short months of my reign, we had not only narrowly avoided an all-out war between all the magical kingdoms, but now were facing riots in the streets.

It was not an exaggeration. Things had gotten completely out of hand at the southern border, and I feared for the violence that was now spreading throughout the kingdom. All sense of trust in the crown had been lost, and we had finally come to the decision to move the dragons to an aviary closer to the castle.

I had no doubt that the root of the issue had to do with brother turning on brother and the destruction that had followed. If my own sibling did not believe in me as a ruler, why should anyone else?

Still, I refused to use force against my people, and I refused to lie to and gaslight them about the existence of dragons. Things were bad enough without me carrying around the guilt of outright deceiving the very citizens I had sworn to protect and serve.

Amidst the chaos, my parents and Esmeralda had insisted on moving back into the castle. I no longer had the energy nor the desire to fight them on this particular issue, and so agreed to temporarily lift their banishment for their own safety.

We increased a military presence at the castle and put our most trusted guards in charge of watching over the aviary. I knew it would not be long before people came knocking on our own front doors looking for answers.

Selfishly, I was glad to be at my full strength during this trying time. The thought of navigating such a turbulent period while at my worst, health-wise, was an absolute nightmare.

However, my mind was still stuck on the reason my strength had returned.

Joseph and Isla had arrived at Isla’s parents’ house this morning in Stone Springs, but there had been no word yet from either on whether their mission had been successful. Mila’s friend was as eager to bring her back as I was, but the path forward still felt murky at best.

Then there was the issue of the dying magic to contend with. I could feel it, each day, draining away at my very soul. The powers I had once taken for granted now seemed just out reach.

I had not been back to the dungeons to check on Charles, but I could only imagine that he was suffering even worse than Esmeralda and I. Being underground, he was submerged into the very earth of Fresonia, and therefore surrounded by its magical decay.

The rulers from the other magical kingdoms (well, the other magical kingdoms minus Abernathy) were all gathering in our castle in a few days’ time to discuss the dying magic. I doubted any of them had the answers I was looking for, and I was struggling with whether to disclose what happened to Mila.

Not to mention whether I should share with them the fact that Mila just might be the answer to all our problems.

I still had some time to figure out what, exactly, I was going to say to them (and what to do if they decided not to listen to the King whose kingdom was falling apart under him). Hopefully by then I would have the answers I needed.

I decided to go check on Esmeralda’s process on studying Mila’s body (although the thought of the witch poking and prodding the limp form that had once been my wife made me nauseous) when I was intercepted by my father in the hallway.

His face was pale and grim–never a good sign.

“Felix,” he rasped. “You must go to the aviary right away.”

I frowned. “Is there something wrong?”

“The dragons,” my father said, his eyes fearful and wild. “There’s something wrong with the dragons.”

I made it to the aviary in record time.

The temporary holding place for the dragons was on the very edge of castle property, near the Silver River that wound its way through the capital city before emptying out near Carnea. The crown owned land on either side of the river, and it was fairly private and wild. My mother had been working for years to turn it into some sort of nature conservatory.

Now, in many ways, it was exactly that.

The dragons were held near the river, and the guards gave the creatures a healthy berth. I could tell the new men who had been assigned to protect the aviary were absolutely terrified of what was inside. It was best not to warn them that the beasts were fairly docile until provoked.

Even before I saw Ignatius, however, I could tell that something was terribly wrong.

My father’s dragon, Fang, was the first one I saw. The pale blue creature was draped over the feeding troughs, wings listless at his side. The dragon whined as I approached, not out of fear, but out of agony.

He looked awful–weak and out of sorts, like he was ill.

It was then I realized that all the dragons were in states of lethargy. In addition to our Fang and Ignatius, we also housed some younglings that had yet to reach full size or find a rider. The little ones were all snuggled together, their breathing short and raspy.

The sight of the sick baby dragons made my stomach turn.

And there in the corner was Ignatius, curled into a ball, his giant wings tucked tightly against his scaly body. He had not been in such a position since he was a baby.

That meant something was truly wrong. Ignatius was always wild, always full of energy. If he was lying like this…

I was at my dragon’s side in seconds. Ignatius could barely crack open one eye to look at me, even as he shifted slightly in my direction, acknowledging the fact that I was there. Something ached in my chest at that. Ignatius might have been my dragon, but he was also my oldest friend. It was almost unbearable to see him in such a state.

One of the dragon caretakers came jogging over when he saw me.

“It’s bad, Your Majesty,” he said, panting. “At first we thought it was some sort of illness, but the doctor could not find anything wrong with them. They’re just… weakened.”

“Is there any way to help them?” I asked, running a hand over Ignatius’ scales. He was cold to the touch.

“We’ve tried everything we can think of,” the caretaker confessed. “New diets, fresh air, medicine, but none of it helps. They’re deteriorating rapidly, sir. It seems to get worse and worse every hour. If they keep up like this…”

His voice trailed off, clearly unwilling to deliver the bad news.

“How long do you think they have?” I asked, lowering my voice. I knew Ignatius would be able to hear the worry in my tone.

The caretaker sighed. “If they keep getting worse like this, then they have day, weeks at most.”

I had to figure out a way to bring Mila back, and as soon as possible, or the dragons would all die.