"They loved Lex's wild spirit more than my tamed one. Found him bathed in blood all too often for his age."
Belladonna furrowed her eyebrows.
At what age was it appropriate to be found bathed in blood?
Blood!
"Lex was a lot like my parents than I was. At a point," he chuckled, turning his gaze to her, "I almost started getting jealous, but," then he raised a finger up, "I could not hate my brother. I mean, he was my baby brother after all. I loved him. He made me happy. His presence, his laughter, his troubles, the way I would always have to clean up after his mess in the village when he would go barserk on the animals." He chuckled again, his eyes filled with warmth and absolute love.
"I never complained. I took some of the blames of what he did, but like I said before, my parents knew who the psycho was." He looked back at the painting, folding his hands behind him. "At the end of the day, we are still family."
Belladonna looked at the painting once again.
What a happy family they were. How dare the Bride Thief ruin such a wonderful thing. Families that loved one another were rare to find.
As if the damage he had done wasn't already enough as much as it was unjustified, he even cursed the only survivor of the fire.
Such cruel creature.
He deserved something worse than death.
She curled her hands into fists by her sides to control her anger.
She couldn't wait to finally bring useful information about him to the King, so that the King could finally catch and punish him.
"I often forget this but he was the one to gift me that dragon egg on my twelfth birthday."
Belladonna's head rang bells.
"He had gone outside the walls by himself?!"
"No, my Father had given it to him because he believed it to be a egg that hatched nothing. But my brother had taken strong liking to the 'piece of scaly cold rock'," he said in reference to how his Father had always referred to the egg and Belladonna nodded along, remembering that the Bride Thief had even told her to ask Eli this question about some nights ago.
Along the line, she had forgotten about it because why would she be stupid enough to do a thing he said?
Nevertheless, she was interested in this because it was simply worth he interest.
"A night before my twelfth birthday, he had snuck out of the Castle to see if he could climb the walls of Ignas and get to the other side to hunt just like our Father. I was the voice of reasoning, of course, telling him not to go. We spent hours by that wall and finally midnight struck."
His hand moved hovering close to her hair, before it dropped by his side and he folded his arms behind him.
"He was the first one to wish me a happy birthday and all he had on him was his precious egg. It's tradition that the first person to wish someone a happy birthday, must give the Celebrant a gift, as a sought of blessing and prayer of fulfilment throughout that year." He paused, a smile stretching across his lips.
The smile didn't look so happy though, there was a tinge of sadness to it.
"He gave me his precious dragon egg. That day had been my happiest and saddest day. That was the night of the attack."
Her hand moved over his shoulder to comfort him, as she squeezed lightly.
"I miss my mother and her loud voice, my father would say she screamed like a whale. He loved it. We all did." He wanted to take a step closer to the painting, but stopped himself and retained his position, with his arms still folded behind him. "I miss the way she did magic passionately, and how she would make castles for us to play with out of thin air. They always disappeared though." He dramatized with his hand.
"My father and his unending hunts for treasures and monsters. They were such a perfect match and together they made Ignas great."
He extended his hand to her, holding and caressing it.
"We can be greater, My Donna. We are already a perfect match."
Belladonna gulped, looking from him to the painting, nodding.
The pressure felt absolutely suffocating.
Then he dropped her hand and pulled the black covering that had been over the painting when they stepped in, back over it.
"So it all happened when you were twelve."
"Yes."
Her gaze studied him as he moved to the other side of the room, where a table had been moved to a corner.
He pulled the black cover cloth on it away, revealing the table beneath with different painting colors that had stuck to it some time in the past.
"You were so young? How were you able to do it alone?"
"I had to escape from the burning Castle." He went around the table, oddly studying the surface.
What could be on it that took his interest so much?
"But not for long. Kestra found me, one night while I had passed out in the open forest from exhaustion and hunger, with my egg still tight in my hand." His voice broke. "I was a mere grieving boy."
He sat at the edge of the table. She went over there and sat down next to him.
Once she had the chance to lay her hands on the Bride Thief, she would kill him.
"I was lucky she had found me, she had just been as young as I was back then. She was the friend I needed. Kestra took me home to her family. They had welcomed me with open arms, only her Mother though." Something changed in his voice, it became cold and dark.
"Not her brothers." He chuckled darkly. "Not them."
"Did they do something to you?" She couldn't help how her heart thundered with worry with the mere thought.
"No. But they did to Kestra."
Belladonna froze.
No.
It couldn't be what she was thinking.
Or was it?