"Run!"

No one waited for a second warning. They dashed in different directions, running as quick as their mandane feet could take them, to get away from the beastly snake.

Fior ran, his eyes kept darting back to steal a glance at Ssirel, who remained frozen, still in front of the five-headed snake, crimson tears flowing from his eyes.

His eyes landed on Nytherael, the one he was meant to protect. His face fell. He stared at his hand where he was holding a beastfolk. One had assumed was Nytherael when he grabbed their hand and made a run for it.

He was stunned to discover that the beast he grabbed was none other than Ssirel. By then, it was too late to turn back and save Nytherael.

Nytherael stood deathly still and didn’t run like the others. He was tired, too tired of the game, and wanted out.

The courage he had while challenging Sseraphis had died out. What was left was a shell of a broken twenty four year old fox who didn’t have the strength to avoid pain by escaping.

He closed his eyes and waited for the end. Expecting either death or the illusion to crack do he can return to the real world where he understood his left from his right.

The five-headed snake grew more and more restless. It’s five pairs of eyes locked on Nytherael who at the moment looked small and fragile in its eyes.

With force that caused the ground to shake. It wriggled in the air for a passing second before launching at Nytherael at full speed, in full force, and with sheer violence.

Nytherael made no move to dodge or escape his fate. He welcomed it willingly.

Just then, a cyan light enveloped the sky, and the clouds swirled like a gigantic vortex. The sheer force of his arrival suppressed the snake. Immobilised it.

The beastfolks running frantically on the ground stopped. They cast their eyes above, both in panic and in relief. Whatever was coming was either about to save them from disaster or doom them further.

At the centre of the vortex, they saw a figure. A beast, draped in black robes, a silver sash around his waist.

His long black hair with silver streaks at the edges was tied high behind him, and as he faced the crowd below, a handsome jawline was revealed.

His molten amber-gold with vertical slit pupils was bloodshot and radiating genuine fury. The ink marks of nine horns on his forehead glowed red.

The crowd recognized him instantly. The pairs of eyes that looked up were filled with awe and admiration. The beastfolks stopped running as they spotted their saviour.

"What if he’s here to harm us, though?" Princess Sheana asked, doubtful about Aeltharion’s intentions.

"Why would he do that?"

"Yes, Sheana. Aeltharion isn’t like that."

"Speak politely, the beast in question is the sovereign of Western Skyrift."

"Must you taint everything, seductress?"

"Just because you have impure thoughts. It doesn’t mean that everyone else does, too."

One by one, she was reprimanded to the point that Sheana regretted having opened her mouth.

The beast’s didn’t hesitate to speak up for Aeltharion even though to her, he wasn’t worth the benefit of the doubt they awarded him.

"You can question anyone you wish, Sheana... but keep my brother’s name from your lips," Aenyra, still bitter from kissed without her consent, scolded her.

"I’m not exactly speaking without reason."

"And what reason could you possibly have to defame my brother?"

"How about the fact that he’s taken a comfortable seat, going along for the ride as his lover destroys the very world we live in?" She questioned.

She didn’t understand why they all blamed Nytherael for Sseraphis’ actions but spared the one beast who has been beside Sseraphis the whole time, a reproach for standing by and allowing Sseraphis to run amok with his misdeeds.

"How dare you, Sheana?" Aenyra’s blood boiled from the accusation Sheana put on her brother.

Recalling the last time she’d been to see him and having witnessed the bitter herbal treatment that her brother had to endure just to have a life extension of two more weeks.

Knowing that in two more weeks, he’d have to endure the treatment again to prologue his life and repeat. She felt a crack in icy demeanour.

"When you don’t understand something. It’s better to say nothing."

"I do understand..."

Samahita stopped her by pulling her away. She didn’t know why Sheana was hellbent on offending the Zhen family, but she knew how badly their father would react to it.

"For once, why can’t you just keep quiet?"

"Me?" Sheana asked, feeling afflicted an unhappy.

After getting indirectly rejected by Aenyra, she didn’t wish to argue with Samahita, so she walked a distance to cool her head.

Sseraphis, having felt Aeltharion’s energy cause a spatial fracture in the illusion, rushed over. Upon seeing the snake heads, he’d lent Ssirel had taken form and were struggling chaotically under Aeltharion’s pressure. He summoned them back.

The snakes shook as they returned to their previous shadowy form before slowly slipping through the earth to reattach back at Sseraphis’ back.

Sseraphis glanced down at his shadow. He counted the heads and felt relieved that all nine were back in their rightful place.

"Aelthie, why are you here?" He asked, puzzled since he had left the dragon soaking in a herbal bath before returning to the illusion to consult Jura on his findings.

Aeltharion sealed off his energy and descended. He landed by Nytherael’s side and pulled the fox into the warmth of his embrace.

Nytherael felt his touch and opened his eyes. He was surprised to find the five-headed beast gone, and its place was his dragon, and he was hugging him.

A tear rolled down his face. Nytherael chewed at the inside of his mouth and folded his fingers into a fist. Frustrated by the games that Sseraphis was playing with him.

He didn’t believe that the dragon hugging him was real. How could he? It was hard to tell inside an illusion meant to torment him with his deepest desires.

"There, there," Aeltharion caressed his hair. Sympathising with how much Nytherael endured in Sseraphis’ hands.

On the side, Sseraphis stood glued to the ground, unable to move forward to Aeltharion or back away and leave.

He stared at the two hugs and felt his chest burn. With the new knowledge that came out from Jura’s findings, his hatred for Nytherael had increased tremendously.

So, to watch Aeltharion embrace the one who triggered their impending doom, he became paralysed with sorrow and hostility.

"I’ve got you. You are safe now," Aeltharion assured him.

Nytherael’s heart broke. Aeltharion’s words confirmed that he was truly daydreaming. Because the real Aeltharion hated him and acted indifferently towards him.

Unlike Sseraphis, who reacted to his presence, Aeltharion treated him less than air. Invisible and irrelevant. He couldn’t believe that the real dragon would come to his rescue, let alone hold him and assure him.

He bit back a scream and silently and let his tears flow. Resisting with all his might, the urge to hug the dragon back.

’How much longer must I bear this?’ He thought. ’Death would be an easier punishment compared to this.’