Fallen One (Book three of Alfireán age)

- Why God?-

Once they had left the scene of destruction and found a familiar landmark, it hadn't taken Drake long to find the secret hideaway: a hideaway he, Dylan, and Varlin, had helped create while they were children.

After the group had landed in a rocky canyon in the forest, they had navigated through several stone crags and past an assortment of illusion spells masking the safe house. Upon bypassing the security measures, they had settled into the softly lit gathering room where Alf and Zaphaniea had collapsed onto the couches; the maids had disappeared into the depths of the cave house, and now Olivia tended to the warriors' numerous scrapes and bruises.

Drake strolled to the upper balcony in the central part of the cave and leaned against the balustrade in silence. Removing his eye patch, he watched the others mill around under the arched stalactite roof. Smiling faces from memories long past danced before Drakovian's eyes, and try as he might, he couldn't help but remember his childhood friends. Varlin, ever the stickler for details, had painstakingly created each and every stalactite in order to replicate the feeling of a cave, while at the same time Dylan had fashioned windows and light funnels to keep the area bright and cultivate, as he called it, a mystical atmosphere.

He closed his eyes as the familiar area brought back the once joyful memories. Thanks to his eidetic memory, they played across his mind in intricate detail as if they were all happening once again: Varlin hanging from the roof, forming the stalactites; Drake, Cedric, and Marvin secretly shifting his 3D holographic blueprint so the sculptures ended up misshapen; Dylan tattle-telling on them after Varlin had redone his stalactite at least six times.

Drake suppressed a grin as Varlin hanging upside down, shaking his fist at them, and threatening to cast a fireball played out in his mind. It felt like it had happened yesterday, despite being almost thirty years ago.

The prince turned his back on the scene, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to push the emotions away, but this time they wouldn't go. Marvin, Cedric, and Varlin—and who knew how many others—had all died at Vackzilian's hand. And worst of all, the image of his father slowly turning to stone, helpless before the usurper, played out in his mind.

Drakovian ground his teeth as he examined his nearly finished death spell. It's swirling patterns and equations floated across his mind in a deadly dance of science mixed with dark magic. Vackzilian would pay. He would see to that himself, no matter what the cost.

"You're pretty banged up," a soft voice said, pulling him from his dark thoughts.

Drake opened his eyes to see Olivia standing in front of him, her eyes glowing with Ra'avah as she examined him. "I'm fine," he growled, wanting to be left alone with the burning rage that was starting to take root in his heart.

"No, you're not," she said shaking her head. "You're covered head to toe in bruises. It's a miracle you didn't break any bones," she continued, reaching her hand towards his left elbow where a large bruise was already starting to form.

"I don't believe in miracles," he spat, pushing her hand away despite the pain, and putting back on his eye patch, he stormed off.

The healer frowned and followed Drake as he pushed off the banister and marched down the stairs. "How can you say that? It's a miracle in and of itself that we made it this far," Olivia called after him. "Can't you see that God has been guiding us and helping us the whole time?"

"Ha," he scorned, reaching the bottom of the stairs. "I suppose he guided us into the bottom of a lake with a bunch of hungry piranhas then?" Drake shook his head in unbelief. "Frankly, I don't believe in a big, all-powerful God watching over us from some imaginary place in the sky," Drake stated sulkily as he marched through the cavern and back towards the bathing rooms, not in the mood for any more of her or Alf's fantasies.