Page 88 of Dragon Gods

“Father.”

Leon’s protests had turned weak and Fox knew he wouldn’t win. Neither of them could win against their father, even the golden child.

Fox struck first. Leon wouldn’t and Fox knew their father would only punish Leon for his trying to protect him.

“Scared, Brother?” Fox asked, smirk hiding any shake or hesitancy in his voice.

His brother’s bright eyes narrowed, but he bent and picked up the blade. The silver of its steel caught the light, a stark contrast to his brother’s golden locks. Fox had always been wan compared to Leon, his skin sallow, hair and eyes drained of the color that made Leon glow. It was as if their parents had put all they had into their firstborn and Fox had been left with only the remnants of beauty and power.

His father treated him as such.

Fox moved first, ignoring the scream of his muscles and the ache in his forearms. He’d thought the wooden training sword was heavy, but the steel blade made his muscles protest every move. It was long and unwieldy, meant for an adult already trained in the basics. Even at sixteen, Leon strained under the weight of it; Fox could see it in the crease of his eyebrows and the pinch of his lips.

His brother parried his swing easily, the hit reverberating through Fox’s arms. But he didn’t drop the blade; a scream built in his throat, coming out in only a broken groan. His father was silent as he watched, not content yet with the show. Fox knew what he wanted. His brother did, too, but he wouldn’t give it to their father, not until he had no other choice.

Fox didn’t have the energy to wait. The next time he stepped forward to swing, he purposefully went wide, body tilting forward as Leon’s blade came down to block it. The blades brushed against each other, not quite hitting. Leon’s steel sliced forward and into Fox’s arm with a sickening twist.

He didn’t bother to bite back the scream of pain, the blade dropping from his hand as his muscles went slack against his will.

“Fox!” his brother stepped forward, face pale at the sight of blood running down Fox’s arm.

“Get away from me,” he snarled. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

He saw Leon’s lips go tight as he looked between Fox and the blade, knowing then what he had done. Fox didn’t regret it. His father wasn’t going to let them stop until Leon drew blood. At least this way, it was on Fox’s terms.

Leon didn’t move to comfort Fox where he kneeled. He tilted his chin to meet their father’s gaze.

“I win,” he said and then he dropped the blade and walked away, leaving Fox still bleeding in the dirt. His father followed, no longer entertained by his youngest son’s pain.

* * *

“You’re an idiot,”Leon said, pushing Fox into the chair in front of the desk. He glanced away from his brother only to meet his eyes in the small mirror on the wall. They were heated and angry as they glared down at him. His brother had already been in his room by the time Fox had managed to push himself up from the training field and go inside.

“I was ending the torment,” he said. “Do you know what set him off, anyway?”

“There was another resistance attack in the royal quarter. Three wagons of supplies were destroyed with black powder.”

Fox clenched his jaw. He didn’t understand what the Dragonborn were after. They claimed to want peace, but their attacks only angered the crown and the military. They were mosquitos biting at the ankles of jaguars, and somehow Fox was the one paying the price.

Leon read his thoughts plainly on his face. He hadn’t quite learned to hide his emotions the way Leon had, another reason for his father to always come after him. “I’m sure the instigators will be caught soon and his mood will switch right back to his normal grumpiness. Now, take off your shirt.”

Fox rolled his eyes as he did as his brother commanded. He groaned at the movement, but managed to get it over his head without help. When his chest and wound were bared, he met his brother’s eyes in challenge.

Leon’s lips pulled down in a frown, but he went to work, fingers poking at the cut.

“I should stitch it. The edge is a bit deep.”

“Just do it,” Fox said, teeth already clenched and ready. Leon shook his head before he stood. “I said do it!”

“I’m going down to Ms. Bela. You should have some opium milk before I begin. It’s going to take a handful of stitches.”

“I am fine. I’ll be fine.”

“I already hurt you enough today,” Leon said, eyes earnest in a way that had Fox shutting his mouth, unable to argue. He went quickly and Fox was left, slumped at his desk, hand wrapped back over the cut as blood continued to seep from it.

He knew Leon would try to get back as fast as possible, but he’d also have to be careful. His father would never forgive him if he found Leon caring for Fox. He’d spent the last few cycles trying his best to tear them apart.

But no matter how many times he tried to show Leon how far he stood above Fox and his weaknesses, Leon refused to take the lesson.

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