First off, I'm sharing this for a classmate who cannot access email but wants to read this part of Isle of Ryth. That's why there's a charrie called Maethor. So yeah, you get a glimpse of the original Maethor. *** Warning: mentions of death, almost actual death, cliffhanger The Dragonking laughed, sneering down at the Feyprince with his mismatched yellow eyes "Well, well, well. You owe me something, scum. You've been searching for Maethor- I found her for you." Caelleum's eyes widened as the wyverns cleared to show Maethor. She looked almost exactly the way he remembered her, but only almost. A brutal scar slashed all the way down her face, cleaving it in two. Her eyes were still green, yes, but they were wild with pain and fury. Though he didn't know it, his eyes mirrored her own, panicked and desperate. He ran towards the cage, and the wyverns moved to block him. "Let him go." the Dragonking commanded, watching with barely suppressed glee as the Feyprince collapsed by her cell, shaking. It was on wheels, he now realized, so it could be pushed about the room. And, inside, as if bars weren't enough, Maethor's wrists and ankles were shackled to the wood floor. He reached out to touch the bars but jerked sharply back, fingers blistering. The bars were made of iron. The one substance harmful to Fey. The shackles must be made of iron too, he realized, because Maethor's arms and legs were burning. Anger rose in the Prince's chest, but that was quickly suppressed by joy. "Maethor." She looked at him through blurred eyes, showing no spark of recognition. He searched their depths, but could find nothing. "That's correct," the Dragonking said from behind him, and Caelleum could tell he was smiling. "She is now, thanks to a couple /spells/, about to die." Caelleum jerked. "Poor prince." laughed the Dragonking, "Came so far. Went through so much. All for naught. Just to see the person he was searching for die before him." The wyverns laughed along with their king, scaly feet rustling against the floor. Caelleum grabbed the bars, screaming in pain as the iron came into contact with his skin. "I wouldn't do that." the villain laughed again, "Unless you would die too. The spells are in the iron. Do you think I would be so foolish as to cast the spells upon Maethor herself?" Yes, Caelleum did think so. But for once he was smart enough not to say so. The girl continued staring blankly past Caelleum, eyes fixed unseeing on the blood-red walls behind him. "What," Caelleum asked, "Do you want?" "Nothing you can give me." the Dragonking hissed. "I want my brother. Your... father. The Feylord, you idiot." Caelleum closed his eyes as the world swung around him. *No. Father would've told me. He would've. I swear it.* Maethor suddenly jerked, and Caelleum's eyes shot open at the noise. "Maethor...?" The fey screamed, a high pitched keening wail that tore at Caelleum's heart. She rose as high as the chains would let her, which was to her knees. The Dragonking looked at Caelleum, and if the prince had not known better he would've seen sympathy in the monster's eyes. "Not much time left, I'm afraid. She's in greater pain now than you could ever /imagine/." Caelleum then did something that he would later decide was incredibly stupid. He struck the Dragonking square across the jaw with all the force he could muster. The Dragonking stumbled backwards. "What have-" "TAKE HER OUT OF THE CAGE!" Caelleum roared, rearing back his fist for another blow. Fire burst from the ground around his feet, and he was surprised to find that it didn't burn him. He then realized that it flickered on his arms, along his hair... he was consumed in flames. But he didn't care. "TAKE HER OUT! NOW!" The Dragonking raised an eyebrow, completely unruffled. "Sure." The fire that ran along Caelleum's arms flickered out, doused by his surprise. The Dragonking smiled wryly and stuck out a hand. Flames flickered along his fingertips, and they stretched out, towards the cage, then into the cage, past the lock, straight to Maethor... and then Maethor was out of the cage, floating in a bubble of fire. "You're surprised?" the Dragonking asked. "The same magic runs in families, /nephew/." Maethor was brought to his feet where she slumped, barely conscious. Her eyelids fluttered weakly. "Maethor!" Caelleum shouted, scrambling towards her, "Are you alright?"
"I wouldn't reveal your presence to her." the Dragonking advised. "She seems to have very... painful memories concerning you." "How would you know this?" Caelleum glared. The Dragonking's eyes went vacant, and slowly turned to the green of Maethor's own. The Feygirl r let out a moan and slowly rose to her feet, staring directly at him. Her eyes were that of the most hated criminal in all Ryth: somehow, the Dragonking controlled her. *** That's all. Copyright, me. It's unedited (there's an edited version but classmate specifically requested unedited version)