Falk Clan Tales - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

White clouds, heavy with unfallen snow, pressed in on Alexsander as he sped forward through the winter sky. He had one destination, a place he’d been avoiding ever since they were freed, home.
“Brother,” Sander replayed the familiar voice of Callius in his head. His eldest brother had called to him through the telepathic link they shared just a few hours ago.
“Winifred and I must go away. We go to announce our dominion over these lands to the High Chiefs and, well, my bride requires a vacation. Besides brother, after months of building, Castle Falk is complete. Come home, Alexsander.”
Without any hesitation, Alexsander took to the skies. The air was frigid at such heights, but the bitter wind bounced off his translucent white scales. His Dragon was fast and strong. He reveled in the speed with which he flew towards his new home.
Power pulsed through his veins as he raced towards the place his brother had built for the four of them. To think that the Falk brothers were now freed and had a home of their own was almost too much to wrap his mind around.
Years of abuse had almost killed any hope he’d had of ever seeing the day when he’d be free to live his own life. He’d never imagined they’d have a castle of their own too. Leave it to Callius, he thought. His brother had found both mate and home within hours of leaving the icy island that had been their prison.
Sander held out no such hope. He was destined to be alone. Seeing Callius settled with Fred only added to his pain. Despair and anger warred within him as he flapped his mighty wings against the cold air, gaining altitude.
Still, he continued his journey. Sander knew that he could not ignore his brother’s request. It was his duty. He owed Callius that much. For you brother, I will come home.
Icicles formed on his snout as he broke records soaring through the skies, but he didn’t mind it. He was an IceDragon after all.
Sander loved the cold. His unique coloring allowed him to hide in the blinding December sky. A useful tool, shielding him from the spying eyes of normals.
They travelled in enormous commercial airliners by the thousands during this time of year. It was the busiest of all seasons. The holidays here again. Bah.
He blew out a stream of crystalized ice from his nostrils as he pictured them, poor slobs, crammed together like sardines in great big tin cans. Normals were like pests.
They crowded and polluted the heavens that were once the domain of his kind alone. This time of year, it was almost unbearable. Christmas, he growled the word in his mind’s eye.
The season had been celebrated by normals and supernaturals alike since before he was born. Whether it be the Winter Solstice or a virgin-birthed Messiah that caused you to hang your lights and wrap your gifts, winter was a time for celebration. Yet, he felt nothing of the kind.
Sander snarled in his mind’s eye at the hypocrisy of it all. Greed was the motivation behind these so-called holidays. It was neither religion nor faith that brought normals to intrude on his rightful domain at such a frenzied pace.
No. It was self-gratification. Money was the bottom line. He who received the most, the newest, the biggest, and the baddest was deemed winner of the season.
Bah, he thought to himself again. What was it that fictitious misanthrope said, ah yes. Bah humbug. Sander couldn’t agree more. If Dragon’s could snort, his did as he pictured the famous anti-hero.
Distracted by that bit of whimsy Sander almost missed the huge jetliner that came hurtling forward through a dense cloud. The thing nearly took his right wing off. He growled ferociously but managed to veer left just in time.
When exactly did airplanes start taking off within seconds of each other, he wondered as he ducked to avoid yet another one of the damned contraptions. His knowledge of current events was somewhat limited. While Dragons in other Clans were growing with the modern world, enjoying the freedom to learn and observe normals, Alexsander had been kept behind stone walls.
A prisoner, held in servitude for a crime he didn’t commit, along with his brothers, Callius, Edric, and Nikolai. Five-hundred years, they’d served and scraped to get by under the torturing claws of Chief Dragomir of the Blackthorne Clan. The Bastard.
Just thinking about his soft-bodied, cruelty-inclined captor made Sander want to throw his head back and let loose a roar loud enough to shake the heavens. Do not got there, Sander. It is over.
He was free now, and there was nothing more to rage against. The past was done. He could not change it. No good came from dwelling on what had once been. He should accept it and move on, but he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried.
He’d been irrevocably changed. He’d always carry around physical proof of the horrors he’d endured. There was no escaping his past. No future either for a half-handed Dragon.
Sander had tried to make peace with that a long time ago. He knew his time on this Earth would soon be up. His heart was growing cold as the ice he breathed.
His inner GPS alerted him that he’d reached his destination. Pushing his morbid thoughts aside, he closed his great Dragon wings and caught the wind hurtling himself down towards the tiny speck of land that grew larger with each passing second.
He’d arrived at the place his brother called their home. Castle Falk.
He landed on the large runway Callius had installed on the roof. An empty helicopter sat there new and unused. Probably so as not to draw attention, he imagined.
He glanced around approving of the location. Private, protected, easy access to the water, the air, and the forest. He’d found the place without any problem.
He’d memorized the latitude and longitude before taking off from the deserted island where he’d spent the last few months swimming in the deep and trying hard to bury his past. He should have stayed there, he thought for the hundredth time since he’d set out. Alone.
He smirked as he looked at the towering structure his brother had conceived. It had all the beauty and intricacies of any castle of old, along with modern tech and convenience. Clearly, Callius had spared no expense.
Each brother had chipped in a quarter of the total costs. They could afford it. Dragons did love their treasure after all. Even captive Dragons were allowed some of their plunder and with access to the internet and stock markets, increasing their assets in the past twenty years had been easy enough.
Castle Falk. He started down the stairs to one of the secured entrances to the common living quarters. After placing his hand on the scanner and entering a passcode that only someone fluent in Dracan, the ancient language of Dragons, would understand, he entered.
His brother ensured that all four brothers spoke the language fluently, something modern Dragons did not undertake. He smirked at the memory of the tedious hours of study. Callius was a good brother, if a little serious at times.
He still couldn’t believe it was true. His brother had succeeded in finding both mate and Castle in record time. It took a while, but it was finished.
A formidable presence on the Eastern seaboard. The Castle was made of the finest brick and mortar as far as Sander could tell. It was, indeed, grand. Enough private wings for all four brothers. Outfitted with the highest technological advances and comforts.
Shame filled him as he descended the stairs, he was the last to see the place. He should have at least honored his brother’s efforts by showing up sooner. Truth be told, he didn’t feel as if he belonged there. Not with his ruined hand and his cold heart. He had not wanted to see his brothers’ worry.
There were no happy endings in store for him. He would die alone. And soon. Without a mate, his sapphire rose would turn to ice and his body would follow. That was his fate.