A Failing Bond: 1

:-The Perfect Hotspot of Inter-racial Diversity–Dragonix'-:

"Mum, what should this mean?"

Two little arms struggled to carry… no dragged a book towards a woman sitting on the windowsill, basking in moonlight.

"My, my!" the woman scooped up the child and placed him on her lap. Her eyes shined at his inquisitiveness.

She caressed the red locks on her child's head and opened the book to the page he wanted.

"Mum, why's this creature shake hands with a dragon? Who is this?"

The woman touched the page and sighed with nostalgia. "That's a dwarf, Ignia."

"But," Ignia set out a murmur. "We are rulers, and rulers don't shake hands with the people below them."

The mother began her amelioration. "That's not true. We are rulers because they made us one. Remember, child, Dragons should not fight amongst themselves because that will hurt these people. And if they're hurt, Dragonix shall cease to exist."

— Ménage house, Trailblazer Clan —

A fresh dawn arrived for the Trailblazer Clan. But the same didn't apply for the ruling ménage's house. The political instability and the constant arguments had shattered the bond between a son and a mother.

"It's enough already. I don't want to listen to you anymore."

"Ignia," called his mother in a melancholic tone, "it's not like what you think."

Ignia followed the voice to his mother with a frustrated expression. He stared into her pale blue eyes. The next moment, he grumbled, turned his face away and slouched on the couch, letting his leg dangle.

Portioned the room was lit by a single burning log in the fireplace. Yet, it was early in the morning. The fire flickered as it cast a golden hue on his light tan body; a tunic covered his lower half.

The heat braced his mother, Mrs Moon, who stood a little closer to the fire, and looked pale in the light. Her straight silvery hair cascaded down her shoulders and a white, pearly sleeveless gown hugged her figure. At first glance, she looked like a lady in her mid-twenties.

"Ignia, everything's unlike what you see. You're mistaken somewhere."

"Mom," in a dramatic tone, "this ungrateful son of yours has no ears to hear your measly excuses. I shall not believe your words."

Mrs Moon raised her tone to enforce her words. "Ignia, my son, the Rebellion Frontier wants to use you for its benefits. What shall make you realise? You're calling your demise?"

"It's nothing new, mother," he smirked with full sarcasm. "I would rather believe in a stranger than in you. I would rather oppose the Throne than stand by it. Why don't you trust me? I have seen that crime happen in front of me!"

Her lips sealed tight. She realised what Ignia had seen. It had to happen. Five hundred years ago, with the knowledge of his unprecedented death, she had pledged herself to serve the Emperor. Igneous knew of his demise. One accepted his death in silence; the other could save him neither as a subject nor as a wife.

Regret lingered somewhere in her heart. Repeatedly, her helplessness would prick her feelings. But she endured it. She never let out a cry.

"Emperor Igneous would die five hundred years from now," someone prophesied beforehand. "From then onwards, your son would start his downfall."

It was fine. They prepared for the consequences with care. But not in her dreaded nightmares did the thought cross of Ignia finding his father dead. That too, in front of his eyes. Had she paid attention before Ignia joined the evil forces, she need not lament. The line of disparity would have never found itself in their relationship. She failed the timing to talk it out with him.

Mrs Moon let out a sigh. Her son was already out of her hands. Normal conversations wouldn't make him interested or assured to open up himself. Ignia seemed to have answers for whatever Mrs Moon threw in his way.

"What do you want, then?" She attempted to change the topic. "What will make you talk to me?"

Ignia raised his brows in suspicion. "You'll get me everything I want?"

Mrs Moon hesitated for a second. "I can try."

Ignia furrowed his brows, and his golden eyeballs sparkled in the light. He leaned more towards the fireplace and closed his eyes, and growled. "You're hesitating."

Mrs Moon sighed. "I can if it's within my powers." Then, with hesitation, "Until it's within my powers."

Ignia mocked with his smile. "The Trailblazer Clan, this home and the Throne."

Mrs Moon's eyes didn't widen with amusement. She didn't flinch at his demands. She knew he would ask for something impossible.