The Fallen Kingdom by Camilla Vavruch

Author:Camilla Vavruch [Camilla Vavruch]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Camilla Vavruch
Published: 2024-06-07T00:00:00+00:00

Moira flew next to Pyrros as they took off. They all knew she would not be able to do anything if he fainted and dropped to the ground, but she still stayed close, even if it was just for moral support. They sailed low, barely above the treetops. Moira glanced at Nerida, who looked ashen atop Pyrros’ back, her grip on the spike in front of her tighter than it had been in a long time. Moira understood, considering how the most recent fare had ended.

Pyrros flew slower than usual, but Moira pretended not to notice; they made no comments about his heavy breathing, how he was gasping for air just from beating his wings even though he could usually babble on while doing so, nor did she say anything when she noticed his lackluster scales. The camouflage he normally used without even thinking wasn’t working, and long after they had risen above the forest floor, he was still green.

Half-way to their bags, they caught sight of a small stream and unanimously decided they could all use a break. Relief filled Moira, because despite the short flight, Pyrros looked in desperate need of a breather. While Nerida slid into the water and her legs immediately turned back into a tail, Pyrros sank into an exhausted heap. He drank a little from the stream before laying his head down, closing his eyes.

“No need to even say anything, and I don’t need your pity, Your Majesty.”

Moira furrowed her brow. “Oh, stop it. And I didn’t say anything.”

“I can hear your thoughts.”

Moira smiled, despite the situation. “No, you can’t.”

“Admit it, you feel sorry for me, Tiny.”

She swallowed. No, it was not pity so much as it was regret fracturing her insides into a thousand tiny pieces. If she had been a cleverer leader, she might have realized that they should have left Pyrros a safe distance away from the witch. Moira and Nerida could have gone to her themselves, climbing the mountain side together and trying to make a deal with her.

“No, I feel sorry for me and Nerida, because we’ll have to carry you once you’re too lazy to fly,” she said instead, hoping it came out as playful rather than filled with sorrow.

He tried to play along. “I’d like to see that. Two thin little two-leggers, carrying a dragon.”

“I’m not little, I’m just right.”

Pyrros nodded, eyes closing again. “Little. Tiny.”

She fell silent, unable to find more playful words, more relief. Her hand came to rest on his neck.

“Leave it there, please,” he mumbled. “It’s a little—warm…”

Her heart broke at how weak he sounded. Sudden realization haunted her, that no matter how much she grieved her mother and sister’s injuries, this was far worse. The feeling of betraying her own family, even in thought, was like a punch to the gut. Was Pyrros truly more important to her than her own family—even Mari? Was it because of her struggle with feeling responsible? Or did she actually love him more?

Nerida finished her soaking and pulled herself ashore.

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