At War

Two princesses are fighting a war for their father's throne. Now, they must inherit their father's mighty battle dragons, and end the war, one way or another... But who will win?


12. Pandora

When I wake next, Owen is standing at my door talking to someone I can't see. Unfortunately, I fail to catch any of their conversation, although I suspect it's about me.

"Hey." I say, and to my surprise it doesn't come out as strangled as I had anticipated. Relief floods onto Owen's face as he turns to me, grinning like a madman. He runs over and hugs me gently, exclaiming about how happy he is to see me. According to him, I was sleeping for five days, and he managed to find an antidote.

"Where did you find it? I thought that it was a really rare poison." I inquire. Owen scratches his neck and turns away, not meeting my eyes.

"It was in Elektra's territory."

"What? Why would you do something like that? She could have killed you!"

"You were dying, and she didn't see me so there is nothing to worry about." Owen replies, suddenly ashamed; I know he is hiding something from me, and I won't be able to get it out of him no matter how I try. 

Sighing, I pretend to drop the subject.   

I look to my left, and I see a small, empty vial attached to the needle in my arm. There is something on the vial that has been scratched off, but it almost resembles Elektra's emblem. Maybe... she gave it to him? No, that can't be, she would never do that. He must have stolen it from her castle, then. That sounds the most likely, but how would he get in unseen? Either way, I am grateful that he saved me, no matter how stupid and suicidal that was.

Anyway, more important things are on my mind. "Do we know who sent those... things?"

"No, but we are studying a few of the corpses, and the symbols on their heads must mean something." Owen assures me. "And anyway, you need more rest, that poison was powerful stuff, and you're still as pale as the sheets, even if you are talking to me."

"But I feel fine." Even as I say it though, I know that isn't the truth. Dying, it seems, takes a lot out of you, and suddenly my eyelids feel really heavy. "Forget me, when was the last time you slept?" I say, because Owen does look exhausted.

"Don't worry, the nurses are getting me a bed next to you, I'm not going anywhere." He claims, sitting on a stool beside my bed, and I know there's no convincing him otherwise, so I let myself drift away once more.

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