Chapter 3: Changing of the tides (POV Dorian.)
"All warfare is based on deception. Feed the flame of your hubris at your own peril.-The sun wars, volume 2, chapter 12. 

King Gregori held his head high, and stared down his chanting army with a sinister, knowing smile. “Soldiers of Cintra!” He shouted, his voice heard by every soldier. 

“We have gathered here today to celebrate the first step towards claiming our birthright, our right as children of the dragon and keepers of the sacred ashes. The sons and daughters of sirens think us weak, foolish! Incapable of conquest without the great dragon leading our armies. Is.that.true?!” 

His army screamed and roared. Hooded, armored mages, dressed in imposing red and black colors threw their palms into the air, and pillars of flame shot into the sky, lighting the sky with a scarlet blaze, furthering the army’s frenzied shouting. 

“A day will come when I take the sapphire throne and turn it to dust! When we take their pitiful banners and stomp them to the ground! They say that we will never usher in an age of flame again, but I promise you this, my sons and daughters of Cintra, before the end of this era, before the end of this year we will begin a new age of flame, one that burns ETERNAL!”

The king took in the cheering of the army with a grandiose smile, then licked his teeth and  strode back inside.

“Leave us, Dorian, go and train, if you know what’s good for you.” He waved his hand dismissively, making sure not to ‘grace’ his son with his gaze. 

Dorian merely rolled his eyes as he retreated to his chambers. 

Lochaine followed his father’s example and hardly looked at his brother, his lips curling into an arrogant, but excited smirk. “Father, may I ask what the plan is?

“You’ll see my son, you’ll see.” He eyed his crackling fireplace and imagined it was the rain kingdom, burning and defeated. 

A messaging boy stumbled inside, his legs shaking as if he was walking on quaking ground. “M-m…my lord!… I have a report from your spymaster.” He inched closer, praying to the dragon they couldn’t tell. “Yes bring it here, boy.” The king boomed. 

The messenger’s face drained of color as he reached out his hand. “Father, I smell something.” Lochaine wrinkled his nose and waved his hand. “Is that pee? Did you truly just wet yourself boy? Oh, that is just hilarious!” 

The messenger’s eyes shot open, and he slowly nodded, a rogue tear falling down his cheek. But Lochaine only bursted into mocking laughter, not bothering to disguise his contempt in the least. 

The king, however, bored his eyes into the boy, a cruel rage gleaming in his eyes. 

“Give me the paper, little girl, then report to the frontline. Perhaps you’ll earn back your manhood there, now get out of my sight.” His voice was calm and steady, but the anger in Gregori’s tone made the boy’s heart quiver with fear. 

“Y…ye…yes...sir!” He squeaked, running away. 

Gregori put his hand on his son’s shoulder, and with that, his laughter was gone as fast as it came. “I remember that boy’s father, a deserter. It seems cowardice runs in the family.”

The king opened the parchment and smiled cruelly. Furthermore, he shoved a sealed scroll in his son’s hands. 

“Lochaine, distribute these orders to the army then find your sister and head for the southern gate. We’ll be leaving soon, half the army and Dorian will remain here. It’s about time that…boy...proves his worth.”

Lochaine blinked and scratched his head. “Can I ask why? I thought we were marching off to the rain kingdom.” 

Gregori chuckled and slapped his son’s shoulder. “Ah but we will! Just not today, oh no my boy, not today. Be patient, It is as I have said, this is but the first step. Even if they’re clever enough to show no mercy, and I doubt they will be, they will never see us coming.” His eyes gleamed with malice. 

“What was the point of your speech then?” The king snorted, and he gave him a throaty chuckle. “It was meant for the enemy spies in our ranks, they need to believe what I will them to believe. And because it amuses me. I need no other reasons.” 

“As you say father, fire be with you. I will do as you ask then fetch Eveline.” 

Gregori sighed joyfully as he grabbed a small glass of water and threw it on the fire, his eyes glowing vermilion as he stared at the fire effortlessly burning the water to nothing but vapors.

“The game is afoot.” 
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Prince Dorian collapsed on his bed and breathed a deep sigh. 

"Highness." Miri curtsied then delicately closed the doors behind him. “How was the um…speech?” 

“Foolish, prideful. Humiliating. Inelegant, nonsensical.” Miri snorted. “Perfectly normal eh?” 

Dorian stared at the dull ceiling, his mind like his heart, empty. 

“I brought you dinner? Cindering soup and flamed root apples.” With simple grace, she lifted the tray from a stool and put it on his desk. 

“I also have sparkling bubble tea for you.” She giggled under her breath. “Bubble. Such a funny word, bubble!” She looked into his mournful eyes and grimaced. “Sorry, milord. I hope you’ll enjoy your food?” 

He lazily gave her a dismissive wave. “One of my betrayals is acting up, I doubt I can eat anything while it makes my stomach hurt so much. You can have it, Miri.” 

Miri frowned but still took a sip of the tea then spat it out. “Yuck! What's in this, dragon's snot?! Actually, that'd probably taste better.” 

Dorian chuckled then turned on his side. “Miri?” He tightly gripped his sheets and firmly shut his eyes.

“Yes your majesty?” She gently laid her hand on his back and rubbed it in circles. 

“Why was I born this way?” 

“A sirenborn?” She cocked her head. 

He buried his face in his pillow, trying to disguise his tears. “Miserable…”

Miri's face fell. “I don't know your majesty.” 

Dorian rubbed his temples and fought the urge to sob.

“It's fine. I don't even know myself. I know this isn’t one of my betrayals. Well maybe It could be, but I don’t think it is.” He slowly rose from his bed and stared soullessly into an oval-shaped mirror. 

“The price I have to pay for my power, for using it too much…stupid…why have this power if it’ll just stab you in your back? I hate just how accurate the name is, betrayals…and whoever created that, I hate you." The prince mumbled, his shoulders limping. 

Miri reached out to draw him into a hug but he pushed her away. “Highness, if I may?” 

The prince nodded. 

“Well..I believe that you should wear this betrayal as a badge of honor, all those people in the lower town would’ve drowned if you didn’t stop the flood.” 

Dorian drew his lips back into a snarl. “I wouldn’t have had to do anything I’m the first place if my father hadn’t pissed off that water spirit.” 

He sorrowfully shook his head. “I can still do something right. I can die in the war saving as many as I can.” His voice trembled like a scared child's. 

Miri's face twisted with fury. “With all due respect highness, you've lost it! You're out  of your stupid, clever mind! I care about you, please, don’t throw away your life fighting your arsehole of a father’s war! There’s other ways to do good!”

He wordlessly turned on his feet and started walking into the halls. “At least this will all be over.” His voice was but a whisper. 

                                                                                                              ****

“Guard, where do I go for my armor, if you please?” Dorian steadied himself, and mentally prepared himself to shed blood, he wasn't doing a very good job of it, so he sounded less like a war-ready prince and more as a boy headed into something he didn't understand. 

“Through the long hall on your left, majesty. Dragon’s fire be with you. 

“And you.” He muttered, staring at the floor. 

He passed one of the great bells of Pyria. Dorian was desperate for a distraction and mentally reciting the bell rules didn't seem so bad now.

Once for our army or a royal returning home.

Twice for a natural danger like a horde of dire wolves or storms.

Thrice for any upcoming Scorch rain. A natural disaster where molten rock and liquid fire rains from the sky, burning anything it touches to cinders.

Four times for an invading army. 

And one long chime for defeat. 

“Prince Dorian, your father has requested your presence at the front lines. You must be in armor though, his highness was very specific about that.” The messenger bowed then ran off. 

“Fine…” Dorian scowled and slowly walked towards the armory. 

“You the puddle prince?” Came the blacksmith’s thunderous voice. Dorian forced a smile and curtly nodded. “You have something for me?” 

“That I do. There's a suit of iron armor over there. It's yours, now scram. Before you kill all my fire with your puddle-magic.” Dorian glared at the blacksmith then picked up his suit of armor and left the blacksmith's. 

“How does anyone actually wear this stupid thing?” He eyed the suit of armor in his hands for what felt like an eternity to him. He hadn't even noticed the stray tear until it dripped on his armor. 

“You going to wear that thing or what?” 

Eveline tapped him on his shoulder. “Hey, I'm talking to ya puddle guy.” 

“Please don't call me that.” She gave him a half-hearted shrug then ruffled his hair. “Sorry, I thought you'd find it funny.” 

Dorian clenched his teeth. “I don't. Now what does my sister want from me today? I'm out of ingredients for your lotion if that's what you're here for.” 

Eveline grimaced then twirled a lock of copper brown hair. “Well, I…came to see you off before you, father and Lochaine go on the crusade to Kayleigh!” 

Dorian gave her a deadpan look. “Right. And I'm an ash-damned Princess.” A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “Goodbye, Eveline.” 

He dragged his feet through the halls, in the distance he watched a group of young lads talking and laughing, all suited up in shining, steel armor. He drew in a long breath and steeled himself as much as he could, but he failed to stop the dark thoughts invading his mind. 

Forget about your family, forget about sitting in your room curled up with a good book, forget about the adoration of the cheering crowds in taverns. 

A distant bell chimed. 

Forget about your mother, forget about meeting the ocean, the sweet smell of fallen rain. Having a child, and your father finally being proud of you, of loving you. 

The sounds of a bell tolling echoed through the halls. 

Dorian stared wistfully out of a window, into a stormy sky, maybe he'd smell the rain one more time. 

The sound of a bell ringing pierced the air for the third time. 

Forget about Miri, or about adventure and seeing the world, about finding a place to belong. 

The bell chimed a fourth time. 

Dorian froze, his blood turned as cold as ice, he felt the color draining from his face as

time seemed to slow down, his heartbeat racing like a horde of frenzied horses.

“Four…” Dorian's mouth was open in a silent scream. 

A thin young man ran through the halls, his eyes bloodshot and wide with terror. 

“Forces approaching! TO ARMS!” Before he could catch his breath another boy entered the halls and fell on his knees, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Lyrians! The rain kingdom has come! The king and his family are gone!” 

Dorian didn't need to feign how petrified he was, everyone was staring at him. Their prince, the only sense of authority that hasn't left yet. 

“F-fight for Cintra! For your lives! For all of us!” He pumped his fist in the air but only silence followed. 

He looked into the fearful eyes of his soldiers and ran away as fast as his legs could take him. Not only that, but he could hear the sound of drums, of the chanting and cheering of the Lyrian army as clear as day, their thundering march bellowing through the castle. 

He stopped in front of a balcony and drew in the scene in front of him. Thousands of men in perfect order, and each and every last one of them was cheering for Cintra’s fall. 

A bright flash of sky blue light below him drew his attention, he could make out a seasoned, attractive-looking lady, no older than 30 maybe 35 summers, wisps, and sparks of lightning danced around her. 

She raised a hand in the hair and curled her fingers, his body tingled at the feeling of static building in the clouds. Then with an instant she closed her fist and lightning rained down on his castle followed by a supernaturally loud thunder shattering the windows. He could just about catch a glimpse of her body twitching before he met the ground. 

Groaning and slightly twitching, Dorian slowly got himself up. He clasped his hands on his ears to shut off the awful high-pitched ringing in his ears. In the corner of his eye, he watched the Lyrians charging freely through Pyria's towering, but ruined doors. 

One long solemn chime haunted the air. “I-I don't want to die…” he dropped his rusty armor like a bag of old clothes then made a run for it, he didn’t try to hide his streaking tears. He didn't want to pretend anymore. If all was lost what was the point?

He threw open the door of a maid's quarters then barred the door. Cold sweat traveled down his face and he took a sharp breath. “I can't do this. Please I don't want to die…” His eyes met a dirty mirror. 

“A mirror…” he muttered to himself, feeling his heartbeat steady. Then a cocky grin grew on his face. He wiped it clean then chuckled under his breath. “Water's the element of change, transmutation. I've never tried it before but...” 

He traced a finger over his jawline. “Why not?” His grin grew wider and wider. He'd make his disguise perfect, flawless. A little more muscle here, a little less fat there. He'd make himself look like someone from the Rain kingdom with ease.

“Why didn't I think of this earlier? Sure even if I manage to do it I might exhaust myself and gain another betrayal but... I'm sure I can stop myself before this. I'm better than that aren’t I?”

He dipped his fingers in a bowl of water then drew swirling symbols and small droplets on the mirror then tapped on them. The water sparkled like stars, much to his satisfaction. 

He started by sharping his jawline and toying with his eye and hair color. He quite enjoyed the idea of having auburn hair, then after going back and forth between various shades of brown, settled on chestnut hair and eyes with the color of sapphires. Furthermore, he focused on his spine and felt his height increase, his muscles bulking up. 

“I… I’m doing it! Sacred ashes, I’m doing it!! Who's a failure now, father?” The timbre of his new, deeper voice played in his ears, feeding into his ever-growing smirk. 

He burst into triumphant laughter until his laughter transitioned into a violent coughing fit. 

“What?…” Dorian fell to his knees and coughed up a pool of water. 

the mirror glowed in ethereal violet light. “You can lie to everyone. And you can lie to yourself. But you cannot lie to me.” A light mezzo-soprano scolded him fiercely, he felt his cheeks turning red at the raw venom dripping from her tone. “You're a fool, Dorian.” 

He felt the water rising in his throat and his vision darken. His eyelids grew as heavy as stones until he succumbed to the tranquil grasps of sleep. 

The voice sighed as if disappointed, then took on a much gentler, almost loving tone. “Hush now, everything'll be okay, I promise, Lyra. Just sleep, and rest.”

Not too much later Miri opened her door with quivering hands, frantically looking behind her then followed by shutting the door as fast as she could, locking it. “Dragon’s mercy! I’m not dying for that stupid oaf of a king!!”

She knelt on the dirty floor, and slowly folded her hands over her heart. “Please o’ merciful lord of fire, o’ ruler of ashes and gold, thy mercy and shield be with me, so my heart might go on. And my flame never die.” She exhaled and felt her nerves fade with her breath. “By the dragon’s sacred ashes.” She rose to her feet and brushed off the dust on her dress. 

“Now let’s hope that prayer actually does something.” 

She snorted. “Oh great dragon, if you’re actually listening to my prayers, and I don’t die today, get me a girlfriend?” 

Her eyes met a sleeping figure on her floor, surrounded by dirty water. “But I just cleaned that…” she blinked, then stifled a giggle when she realized the sleeping figure was dressed in the prince's clothes. 

“Never mind. I don't care.” She glanced at the still sparkling mirror then back at the figure, a mischievous smirk blossoming on her face.

She grabbed the figure snoozing on her floor and dragged it on her bed. “You're awfully light now. Oh, well. Don't look a gifted horse in the mouth. Or something.” 

She lifted her torn cotton covers then tucked them in. “Sleep well.” Miri whispered, “Tomorrow's a new day… If we're lucky...your majesty.”