Chapter 42: A Dragon’s Sister, A Witch’s Scowl (And a Bedroom Bargain) (2)
"Try not to wreck our garden if your family troubles you again, won't you? Rouen could hardly afford two dragons' clash that would have brought down even the sky." Adil closed her eyes as she lectured, not afraid of even the peacekeeper's deadly glare.
"What dealings did you make with her? With...Coriel?" The utter of name was of a bond that was far too gone, the fraying of the edges in her scales sharpening as her claws dug deep into her palms, her tyrant's blood roared at her to tear apart the druid, yet the peacekeeper's duty, and the promise to her wife bound her feet on the soil that once betrayed Lady Adil.
"Coriel...so that's the elder's name. I have made trade with this...Coriel regarding certain materials that would have been difficult to be acquired." A neutral term that spoke of business on the magnitude of a drought washed over the clear voice of Adil, the gaze never leaving the dragon's. "Vampire's dusts. Demon's bonemares. All grounded in the Northern Iceland that Alice has once descended her magic for, and I utilised them to carve the runes of the town, for a....personal vendetta to be put to a good use."
"Your personal vendetta...will only boil the flesh of your people in blood." The seething rage threatened to claw away the druid once again, yet the pain in her palm stormed her mind as she reminded this 'Lady Adil' was an old friend of her wife, a status she would not easily intrude despite the flood of bloodlust threatening to paint the garden red, as this Adil would for her disastrous decision.
"I am aware of my mistake, but truthfully...it is not I who should regret it." A hint of hesitation in the stutter, yet hatred threatening to leak out from the old hag's tone belied years of an unfinished vengance. "Perhaps as you abandoned your home without a glance, you would never cherish it. But I do cherish Rouen, obsessed with this land that was first built upon, a symbol to stand for my rotted hatred for the vampires, as I bear the name of its protector by the time I have long forgotten my sense of self."
"....I destroyed my own home, my own people for humanity so that the histories' follies were buried, not repeated, Lady Adil." Her tone's rage died down, The heating swirling around the peacekeeper stroke her own scaled neck, the vulnerability of the bulged nip at her throat reminded her of mortality for the little giant that sang with plants. She would not kill her, not yet, not when Lady Adil still proved not of malice, but of protectiveness towards her people.
"Perhaps. Allow me to clarify that you have not failed, peacekeepr, but even in the era of peace you brought, this protecter...this disgraced Druid was merely selfish and sunk too deep among the blackened swamp of flowers, as I ever bothered to hide the wretched meaning behind those runes, afraid to break the firm foundings of your peace."
The old hag's stern eyes narrowed, as even among the sea of flowers, one that spoke of a new home, a new beginning, was tainted by the pulsing single rune in the middle, the rune more profound and coursed with more power, as a small but unobvious clearing of grave soil was dug around it, biding the time to escape the coiling stems that crept up on its feet.
If one kneeled before the rune, crawled up with their ear pressing on the dead soil, one could hear a faint whisper, not of a weeping sorrow for the forgotten, desecrated, but of a silent grief that spoke of a bygone era, a mistake that has crawled up to far to carve out.
That longing, putrid gaze did not escape the peacekeeper's notice, as she hummed in annoyance not befitting of her usual playfulness. "Hiding something in your garden, I see?"
"As my whimsy old friend mocked, keep allies close, keep enemies closer. And I never doubt him...well, her in her outworldly wisdom and strength." Lady Adil's calm voice paled as she sighed, before her steady steps walked pass the dragon, leaving behind Adrei with the buzzing in her head as she revealed one last truth.