Touch of Flame

Ravina stood in the shadows, her eyes wide in horror, as she watched the chaos unfold before her. Her father had finally woken, but not in the state she expected. Rage consumed him, his eyes wild and unfocused, as if he were battling demons only he could see.

His screams and growls echoed through the hall, a guttural clamor that sent shivers down Ravina’s spine. He tried to tear his clothes, his nails digging into the fabric, leaving it shredded and torn. Then, he turned his fury on the walls, clawing at them as if attempting to escape from something. Paintings were ripped from their places, crashing to the floor in a shower of glass and splinters.

“Father!” Ravina called in an attempt to stop him and redirect his attention, but it was as if he couldn’t hear her. 

His face was a vivid shade of red, veins bulging beneath the surface of his skin. He staggered towards a wall, clutching his head as if it were about to explode, and then began to bang it against the surface of the wall. Each sickening thud reverberated through Ravina, a visceral reminder of the pain her father was experiencing.

Ravina felt a cold knot of fear form in her stomach. This was her father, a man she had always seen as strong and unyielding, now reduced to this pitiful state. She felt a pang of helplessness, a sense of dread settling over her. 

“Ephraim,” she heard Darcy’s shaking voice as she was able to ask for help. 

Ephraim went forward to tear him away from the wall, but her father fought and screamed. Malachi went to help him, so they could hold him down without hurting him. 

“Stop this! Stop it!” Her father yelled, trying to tear himself away from them even if it meant ripping his arms off. 

Afraid he would hurt himself further Ravina hurried to his side. “Father! It is me. Ravina.” She tried to call over Malachi’s shoulder, but he wasn’t looking at any of them. His eyes were focused on something only he seemed to see as he kept screaming and struggling. 

Before she could say another sentence, Ares appeared and jabbed him with what she suspected to be sedatives. After a while of struggling, his fights decreased, and he lost his strength. 

It was very difficult for Ravina to watch all of this, and her tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She watched as his body went limp and then glanced at Darcy, who also looked concerned and pained. 

Ephraim and Malachi carried the unconscious Richard back to his bed. 

“What is happening to him?” Ravina asked. 

“Perhaps it is side effects since he isn’t the perfect candidate for dragon blood. When the right person, like a breedmate, receives dragon blood, they don’t experience any side effects and get all the benefits from it. They will be stronger, faster, heal faster, and age slower, and their senses will heighten. If this experiment is completely successful, that is how your father will wake up, and if it is semi-successful, he will wake up but with certain issues.” Ephraim explained. 

Ravina prayed that it would be nothing serious. 

“I will bring the physician so we can examine him to see his current state,” Ares said and quickly left. 

Darcy and Ravina held each other’s hands as they prayed for their father to be well. They stayed close by as the examinations were done. 

“He still had a fever,” the physician said. 

Ravina made a note that his body was fighting as if he was having a fever. The sedatives slowed his heart rate, but the rhythm was regular in comparison to earlier, which gave Ravina hope. She squeezed her sister’s hand. 

The physician worked with Ephraim and seemed to have knowledge about both dragons and humans, and he compared heart rates and breathing patterns while letting them know that his temperature didn’t have to indicate fever but adaptation to the new blood as his temperature wouldn’t be that of a normal human anymore. 

Ravina thought of all the things she was hearing. So all these changes would happen to her as well once she mated? 

Her thoughts quickly returned to her father and she touched his forehead gently, taming the wild strands of hair. She looked over at Darcy, “we should bathe him. He seems to have been like this for a while.” 

Darcy nodded, looking over at Ares. He gave a nod, and then left with to send servants their way. Ephraim and Malachi left them too, to give them the privacy they needed. 

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With gentle movements, they began the process of bathing him right there on the bed. They used warm, damp clothes and a basin filled with lukewarm water. Ravina gently wiped the sweat from his forehead, her movements reverent, as if she could somehow ease his pain through her touch. His skin was hot to the touch, a symptom of his body’s battle with the new blood coursing through his veins.

Darcy worked on his arms, her touch soft and caring. Their eyes met over their father’s prone form, sharing a moment of understanding and shared concern. 

Ravina put a damp cloth wet in cold water on his forehead while they bathed the rest of him. A part of her felt like her father had relaxed, and was peacefully sleeping now. 

Once they’d cleaned his body, they dressed him in fresh clothes, handling him with as much care as if he were made of glass. They fluffed up the pillows and placed the blanket on him. He looked much better now. More healthy. More ready to wake up. 

“I will stay with him. You should get some sleep.” Ravina told Darcy. 

Darcy shook her head. “I will stay here. We can both stay here.” 

Darcy went ahead and arranged for them to sleep in the same room as their father. 

Despite sleeping beside her sister, who provided her with comfort, Ravina couldn’t quite bring herself to sleep. She thought of her father, worried for the state he was in. He seemed to have been in pain. An excruciating pain, and she couldn’t bear the thought of it. 

She rose from the mattress on the floor she was sleeping on and went to her father’s bed. She went down on her knees beside the bed, reaching under the covers to grasp his hand. There were many things that weighed on her heart that she wished to address. 

“Father,” she whispered, unsure where to begin. “We have been together yet not.” She began with a lump in her throat. “You have been so close yet so far. I don’t know why you chose such torment… for us. I felt betrayed at first finding out but I thought about it… I tried to understand it. Perhaps you become ill, like me. Not a physical illness. The one of the mind is more insidious, more challenging to fight.” Ravina swallowed hard, her voice trembling with emotion. 

“it’s a shadow that follows you everywhere. It alters the way you see the world, changes the color of your thoughts. I understand that. I know that or I would have seen you.” She said. “You were always so strong, Father. You carried the weight of the world on your shoulders, and we admired you for it. But maybe that weight was too much for you, too and… you became your worst enemy, and so you hurt us. I want to understand, Father.”

She took a deep breath, her hand trembling as she held onto his. “I don’t know if you can hear me, or if you’ll remember any of this when you wake up. But I need you to know that I love you still, Father. I will not let the enemy come between us. All I ask is for you to wake up, and fight so that I can fight with you. Beside you. Together, we can fight our worst enemies. The enemy within us all.” 

Her voice broke on the last words, the tears she had been holding back finally spilling over. “I love you, Father. Please, find the strength to wake up.”

Suddenly, his fingers tightened slightly around her hand. “Father,” she leaned closer, touching his face in the darkness, only to realize he had been crying. “Father,” she cried. “Can you hear me?” 

Darcy had clearly not been asleep by the way she rose hastily from the bed. She hurried to her side, and Ravina detected that she had been crying in silence while listening to them. 

“He is holding my hand.” Ravina said. 

Darcy went to light more candles and brought one to the bed. Ravina could now see her father’s eyes moving behind his lids. His lips parted slightly, and his hold tightened some more. “Father. I am here.” Ravina said. “Corinna is also here.” 

Darcy went to take his other hand. “Father! We have been waiting for you.” 

He tilted his head slightly toward Corinna, following her voice. She loomed over him, hoping he would open his eyes and see her. After a while of what seemed to be a struggle to open his eyes, he finally managed to flutter his eyelids open. 

His eyes, usually sharp and intense, were now glazed and unfocused, yet they held a glimmer of recognition as they landed on Corinna.

“Cor?” He rasped, his voice barely a whisper, strained from the screams and growls he had unleashed earlier. 

Darcy’s face lit up, and she touched his face. “Yes, father. I am here.” 

“My…my angel.” 

Ravina felt a surge of warmth spread through her chest. The term of endearment, one that hadn’t been used in such a long time, filled her with a sense of nostalgia. It was a memory from a time when things were simpler, happier.

She remembered the nights when their father would tuck them into bed, calling them his little angels, his face warm and loving. Those were the days when his smiles reached his eyes, and his laughter was hearty and full of life.

Hearing him say those words again, even in his weakened state, was like a soft light piercing through the darkness that had engulfed them. A gentle reminder of the bond they shared, a bond that was still there, even though it was buried beneath years of pain and misunderstandings.

A tear slipped down her cheek, landing on their entwined hands. Her father slowly turned his head to her, and she looked at him through the tears. “My… angel.” 

Ravina squeezed his hand, offering him a small smile. “I am here, Father.”