022
Draco.
Rodrik was always diligent in his work. For centuries, he had been Abbator's soulgazer, ordained with the gift of reaching out to the god of bond to know the people he had paired.
Draco knew it was Rodrik who helped his mother, Solane, and his father, Cormac, realize they were fated mates. Draco winced at the thought of his father, King Cormac, who in history was now recognized as the Butcher but was once adored by Draco.
He remembered the time he spent with his father growing up, as he taught Draco kingly etiquette, sparring, and alpha command. He made him memorize the names of the seven gods of Bloomington and their deeds as he led him through the temple.
Draco particularly loved the story of Gharok, the god of creation, who was married to a beautiful damsel named Selene, one of his creations. The legend said that Gharok loved Selene so much that he made her the goddess of the moon.
Together, the pair ruled the world. It was the Creator, Gharok, who cursed him after his father, the Butcher, ordered the killing of all the females in Bloomington.
Before the night the king made that decree, he snidely sealed off the seaports and closed the borders so that no one could escape.
Those were bloody days filled with the cries of females echoing alongside the clash of steel from males who opposed the king's decree and his sentinels.
Regardless of the strenuous resistance, the sentinels overpowered the males and proceeded to kill every female in Bloomington.
It was a period of tragedy in Bloomington. After the purge, the seven Sages of Bloomington, men who had lived for two millennia, gathered together, dethroned King Cormac, and pursued the Throne family from the Ice Castle, the capital of Bloomington, the General ruler's abode.
Draco stood in the crowd, still as a sword, with hatred pouring out of him for his father, who murdered the female population, including his mother and Andriandita, as the angry mob stoned his father to death. The butcher king never revealed the reason for the act, but Draco suspected that there was more than met the eye.
He lightly shook his head to rid himself of the bloody images that filtered into his mind. Eyes steady, Draco looked back at Rodrik as he drew the runic circle on the ground and asked each male in the hall to step forward and stand in the circle.
The process continued with no progress made in the discovery of who Draco shared the bond with.
Draco grew restless with each failed revelation. He stood from the seat he was on and grunted.
"Nothing yet, Rodrik?" He pressed forward and asked. The soulgazer shook his head, muttering.
"Time and patience are the virtues needed in finding out mate bonds, my lord."
Draco kissed his teeth at Rodrik's words. With a huff, he went to stand beside Alfos, who had his arms strung up against his chest.
"Sometimes our intuition can be wrong, you know," Alfos said. He had stood there for hours as Rodrik carried out his search but didn't bother to say a word.
"But it was real..." Draco insisted.
"The creator does not grant mate bond twice; you alone should know that, Dracolian," Alfos turned his head to Draco and stared after speaking. "There are some things you do not get your hopes on," he added, lashes fanned out.
If there was one thing Alfos had in common with his late sister, it was the long lashes. The Wilbur's were known to have the longest hair in all of Abbator, but Draco felt like their lashes should be included too. They were unspeakably long.
"You believe I can't have the opportunity to be happy again? That I am bound to live a miserable life by killing all the female lunas I ever married?"
His words, spoken with a note of sorrow, made Alfos twitch. Alfos lost his touch with empathy during the great purge when he watched his mother's head cut off her neck at their house in the Wilbur's estate.
Alfos had held her mangled body and severed head, blood coating his body as he wept. Of course, his father couldn't bear the thought that his best friend Cormac would ever raise a sword against his mate, and as a result of grief, he killed himself.
Alfos never wondered what it must be like for Dracolian, to bear such a grudge, such a load of being the son of the Butcher, the man who distorted the order of things in Bloomington.
Alfos never understood what it must be like to bear a curse that arose as a result of King Cormac's wickedness.
But seeing Draco looking so embittered and nearly torn from the inside, Alfos' steel heart caved a bit.
"I understand, Dracolian. I was only saying that based on the natural order of things," he breathed out, stuttering in between. "But the moon goddess was known to be merciful; maybe she'd been able to convince the creator to grant you another chance at happiness," Alfos added.
Truthfully, Draco was spooked by his words. Wide, iridescent eyes stared up at Alfos.
"What? Have I uttered wrong?" Alfos muttered, blinking rapidly. A small smile curled up Draco's lips.
He shrugged and replied. "No. I'm just wondering where you learned to empathize with someone."
"Don't let it get into your brain, you oaf. I was only stating logical facts..." Alfos shrugged, flicking his gaze away.
Draco laughed, even though it sounded more like a scoff. "Damn right, logical facts indeed."
"I'm glad you know..."
They both looked back at Rodrik's stead, and at the moment, it was Edrand who stood in the circle as Rodrik stared hard into Edrand's silver eyes.
Rodrik wasn't staring into Edrand's eyes; he was looking into his soul just like he did with everyone else.
Seconds bled into minutes as silence swarmed the hall. It took a while before Rodrik broke his gaze away and slumped on the floor. Shallow pants escaped his lips.
Alfos and Draco hastened forward and helped the man. Their hands steadied him on his feet.
"What happened?" Alfos asked, holding Rodrik.
"It was too much..." Rodrik muttered. Draco traded a flustered glance with Alfos before turning their gazes back to Rodrik.
"Could you speak in simple, straightforward terms?" Draco pressed.
Rodrik gave a sharp nod. It was a wonder his neck didn't break in the process.
"May the Creator be blessed, my lord," Rodrik rattled, brown teeth flashing in Draco's face. "My lord, Edrand Thraegastis Rahl, is your second chance mate..."
Draco's grip on Rodrik's biceps loosened. He stepped back, shocked. The males in the room slipped into shock and gasps.
TBC.