“Are you worried?” Layla couldn’t help but ask. “That Hunter’s darkness and his power run through your veins?”
“I know they do. I know I have darkness within me, Layla. A darkness so deep, I don’t ever want to touch it.” Reginald replied.
Opening his eyes and glancing down at her, Reginald’s eyes were an aching grey-blue with flecks of gold from his turbulent emotions.Suddenly, Layla felt memories of his youth push into her, too strong for him to contain. It was Reginald, the first time he’d touched his true inner blackness and the diabolical power that came with it. Unhinged after his first beloved’s death, Reginald roared in the Norwegian harbor as seawater rushed up inside the throats of hundreds of Blood Dragons, drowning them on land.
Eyes bulging, they gurgled; gasping, dying.
Layla felt Reginald’s desperate anguish afterwards. She met his eyes as the shared memory washed through them both. As if summoned, her own darkness rose up, dragging at her drakaina’s feet. She knew the sensation now and was able to corral it back. But like Reginald, her own darkness was always there, lingering just beneath the surface. It was a cold place, colder than the blackest ocean, so deep it had no heat.
But terrible power.
“Thefinal strike,” Layla murmured. “You and I share that darkness. And Fury… and Hunter.”
“Yes.” Reginald held her gaze more gently now as he let her feel his pain. Lifting up, he kissed her lips, then slid her to the side so he could rise. Moving to an ornately gilded side-bar, he poured a stiff three fingers of bourbon from a crystal decanter into two glasses. Returning, he handed one to Layla with a knowing glint in his eyes. He lifted his glass to his lips as Layla sipped also. Finishing his drink as Layla finished hers, Reginald beckoned with one hand towards a set of stairs that led up from their room.
“Come. I’d like to take some air. Will you walk with me?”
“Sure.” Setting down her empty glass, Layla took Reginald’s arm. Leading the way, Reginald took the winding staircase up, through low-lit halls like servant’s passages buried in the ice. Emerging upon a high balcony of blue ice, they stepped out into the waning mid-afternoon sunshine, gazing out over the crashing sea below. All around, Fury’s sculptures writhed, as Reginald led them to a cliff-walk around the promontory, taking them on a slow meander. Breathing deep of the salty sea-air, Layla felt it enliven her as Reginald was rejuvenated also.
Though both of them still churned.
Watching Fury’s sea-sculptures crash and writhe around the island, Layla couldn’t help but feel the barest edge of his insane power as it heaved all around her. As they breathed deep of the salt air, Reginald allowed his protective shields to drop some, allowing Layla to feel the depth and might of his twin’s power. Though Fury wasn’t with them, Layla could feel his Siren-Dragon heaving and coiling all around her now with a dark, endless motion. Deep as the waves, Fury’s power was a restless thing, and Layla marveled at it as they walked.
“Is Fury stronger than you? Because of his immersion in his darkness?” She asked at last, curious.
“Why do you ask?” Reginald glanced at her, cocking his head.
“Well, because what I’m feeling from him out here is out-of-this-world,” Layla shook her head in amazement as she admired the sculptures, “and you rarely let this kind of power show. But what I felt from you when you moved the icebergs and the blood inside my body earlier today… that was power like this, wasn’t it?”
Glancing over, Reginald held her gaze for a long moment before looking out over Fury’s enormous artworks as they continued around the ice-walk. “Once, Fury was stronger than me; our entire youth, actually. Silver Sirens are tremendously powerful and unlike Golden Sirens, tend to mature faster. But once a Golden Siren reaches maturity, they can be a Silver Siren’s rival. Technically, Fury and I should be about the same in our might since I’ve now shifted fully. But tapping into his inner darkness has made him more volatile, rather than less. It comes with brute force and wild unpredictability – and some would say real power comes from using magic like a lance rather than an atom bomb.”
“So you’re the lance and he’s the bomb.” Layla smiled wryly. Gesturing to a narwhal sculpture that writhed with thousands of creatures as it moved, Layla asked, “Since you have such control over your magic, could you make artworks like these?”
“No.” Reginald smiled quietly, though Layla could feel awe in him now at his brother’s abilities. “Fury was always the artistic one. His chaos lends itself to art, and like the restlessness of his mind and inner Siren-drake, his art can never be static. He’s honed this particular ability over centuries, Layla, to keep his Siren-Dragon occupied. I wouldn’t even dream of trying to copy it.”
“But Fury lets his power be driven by the void of his beast.” Layla knew as they walked. “That’s part of what makes him so deeply chaotic yet also powerful. He gave into that darkness after your mother died, didn’t he?”
“He did.” Reginald answered, stroking her hand as they walked. “He’s never come all the way back, though he has put consistent effort into trying. Though you are the bloodline of Hunter’s ancient enemy, and Fury and I are progeny of Hunter himself, we all share thefinal strike. It is a powerful place, though diabolical. Not all Dragons have this blackness. But the ones who do… often wreak ruin if they do not have something to occupy them. Like Fury and his art.”
As Reginald darkened beside her, still churning from everything they had discovered today, Layla felt her inner void rise up also. As if his darkness and hers influenced each other through the Bind, she felt that vast place roar inside her as Reginald dipped back into stewing. Inside, her red-gold drakaina raised a searing mantle of spikes against that inky void. But despite her drakaina’s attentiveness, Layla knew her inner darkness would never be gone. Like a berserker, it was the deepest, most primal part of herself that had no discretion when triggered.
Just like Fury and Reginald.
“Do you think Hunter is like Fury? That he went into that black place so deeply after he accidentally killed his Bound third, that he never came out?” Layla asked, wondering.
“Undoubtedly, though I believe Hunter is far worse than Fury.” Reginald spoke as they walked. “Hunter has all the traits of a true sociopath, Layla. He can murder without feeling; he can fight without passion. He can manipulate like he plays Sunday croquet, and he changes faces without hardly a pause in his sentence as he speaks. Though you and I fight the blackness within, and Fury has delved into it and had to claw his way back out, Hunter is lost inside his black deeps.”
“Because he uses its power.” Layla breathed, knowing it to her bones as they walked the cliff-height. “He uses it daily, all the time – because fighting without feeling… is unstoppable.”
“It is.” Reginald spoke, so quietly Layla barely heard him over the surge of the ocean. “Unleashing the inner darkness in such a way is the ultimate power. But it is a fine line between drawing upon that power to fuel our righteous wrath – or diving into it, heart, body, and soul.”
“Sometimes I think Hunter wants me to be that darkness with him.” Layla breathed, shivering as an Arctic breeze blew off Fury’s sculptures. “That he wants to push me so far I dive in completely – joining him in his quest of dominion.”
“That’s your choice.” Pulling back, Reginald looked down at her, his gaze quietly intense as he halted.
“What do you mean?” Layla turned, facing him.
“You have a choice, Layla.” Reginald repeated as he reached out, tucking her curls behind her ear against the brisk wind. “That blackness inside you will never be gone – just like it is for me and Fury. It will always be with us, lurking even in our blithest moments. We can do better, but it is a choice we must make every day – toknowwe are stronger than the darkness. Hunter gave in, and now doesn’t even recall what it felt like to have true righteousness and love. Though Fury failed deeply once, he tries daily to not choose it again. I have failed also, but learned how to stand strong against my inner darkness.”
