The Exiled Prince and His Siren

Chapter 1

15 years later

There were five of them around the caravan.

Hunters always travelled in groups but never more than five. Two of them rode up front while three rode from the back, all donning black cloaks bearing the king’s royal seal. They are an elite highly skilled force assembled by the king himself to do his bidding.

The former dragon king has fulfilled his desire of becoming king of both Mharne and Malhelm yet his thirst for power has only grown. He has set his sights on gaining half-bloods born of a supernatural creature and a human, after an oracle told him of a half-blood being an instrument to his downfall. Therefore, he ordered his hunters to seek out every half-blood they could find, plagued every city, scope of the kingdom and gave rewards to anyone pointing half-bloods to them.

The people has been left to fend for themselves, turning their backs on each other for their own survival. Most, for their own greed.It was heart-clenching for some of the people to see who was supposed to be, and used to be seen, as one of their own dragged and sold off to the king and high nobles willing to pay the price, but no one was willing to go against the hunters much more the king. Thus the people turned a blind eye.

Maximillian sunk back into the trees when the hooded figures came to a stop. With sharp senses, he counted a little over five people in the transport, huddled closely together to keep themselves warm. The grim, silent night mirrored the forlorn faces of the half-bloods in the carriage. Every one of them lost in their own thoughts. There was no safe place for them now. Betrayed by their own people and sold to gain favor.

That’s what their lives has come to.

He remained stoic on the outside, but deep down his blood is boiling with much rage. He could feel the pumping in his veins, but he had enough control not to do anything rash. He knew he had to be careful.

Hunters struck fear for a reason. They were strong creatures. Skillful and smart. One wrong move and his impromptu rescue mission would be in vain.

He was undoubtedly strong in his own right and his abilities were far superior, but he could never be too confident.

Maximillian wasn’t a mere boy anymore. He was a man now. Trained by both his mother’s trusted commandant and lady in waiting, he grew up in complete tune with his beast as well as with the awareness of what being both griffin and dragon made him capable of. Including the threats that come with.

Over the years, he has adapted well with being raised outside palace walls, more so, outside the walls of the kingdom. It turned out that the mossy place they portaled into all those years ago, was called Nihiltra – no man’s land. It was a battle of survival, but with Arissa by their side, they were able to live behind the shadows.

He came to find out his mother’s lady in waiting was a powerful sorceress, loyal only to the royal family, specifically his mother. Him being her son, gave him the privilege of being subjected to  the same degree of loyalty. Arissa stood as a mother to him, educating him in the nature of his beasts and when to release them. Often, she would tell him stories of his mother and how she too learned to be one with her dragon.

Callahan, his mother’s commandant, trained him the ways of a warrior, as any king before him did. His training was rigorous each time, and being the rightful heir to the throne, Maximillian got the impression that Callahan was training him harder than anyone he’s ever trained before. He didn’t mind though, as he found his blood would pump wildly as they trained hour after hour, day after day.

Nihiltra was his home for the past years and for the better part of his young adulthood, he wasn’t allowed to step foot outside of the place. It was only when he reached his 20th birthday that Arissa and Callahan became more lenient as he’s shown extreme emotional and physical control. He’s also mastered the art of keeping in line with the shadows so much so that Callahan deems him unpredictable. A trait not shared by his father nor his mother.

He spent most of his time in the old kingdom of Malhelm, picking up as much information about the dragon king as he can. Being sheltered for most of his life, he was shocked to see the state of chaos both kingdoms, now one, were in. The presence of the hunters and what it entailed especially caught his attention and flared his long rooted rage.

Callahan heartbreakingly stated he stay out of it. “I know it’s burning you up inside, but you have to stay out of it for now. You will get your chance soon, and you will make them pay two-fold.” Callahan had told him.

He understood where Callahan was coming from but the lack of action didn’t sit well with him. So, he did what little help he could do.

This was one of those times.

The hunters started to disperse to set up camp for the night. This provided him a window of opportunity at an unobstructed view of the transport, enough to sling a rock right onto the lock. The clanking of the iron breaking instantly reached the ears of the hunters and they turned towards the sound in unison. Maximillian took in how they stilled and slithered their tongues out, drawing in a scent out of the ordinary.

The dampness of the trees was enough to cloak his scent, one step out and they’d identify him as a greater predator. After all, eagles do hunt snakes.

Maximillian summoned his beast to the surface. He stepped out a little bit, and the hunters automatically tilted their heads in confusion and minute curiosity at his scent. His father was the last known griffin. He doubts any creature would recognize a griffin’s scent now. Dragons normally had none, but there’d be a burning scent left after breathing fire.

A few more steps forward, and he fully stepped out onto the light of the night. The hunters immediately started hissing at the obvious threat. Shifting into his beast would be a dead giveaway to his identity. He would have to fight them in his human form.

Negotiation was never an option to anyone who stood in a hunter’s way. Therefore no words were spoken before the hunters started to advance. Just as he thought, they were incredibly fast and he doesn’t doubt for a moment they aim to kill as well. Maximillian expertly dodged every offense by merely moving through them. He too was quick on his feet. To the on looking eyes in the caravan, their movements look like wisps of air.

He can sense the confusion running through the hunter’s heads. His appearance tonight would surely stir questions, but he had already made up his mind to do this. There was no going back. Therefore, he wasted no time in countering attacks of his own. Starting with the hunter closest to him, he extended his nails into talons, and with a clean swipe across the abdomen, he severed him into two.

Gasps rang through the silent forest at what they just witnessed, but if the remaining hunters were surprised as well, it certainly didn’t show.

Next, two of them attacked at once. Maximillian leaped and rolled forward, both arms outstretched. He took a swipe at the same time, and heads rolled. The cut clean and swift. There were two of them left now. They were hissing and clearly rattled by what he just did, but they were a persistent breed.

“How is this possible?” One of them hissed at him.

“Harming the king’s hunters is a crime against the kingdom!” The same one hissed again.

Maximillian didn’t reply. This wasn’t a kingdom, this was a prison.

The next strike came just as fast as the previous ones did, but this time, the hunter shifted into his beast and slithered towards Maximillian. The prince didn’t move a step. And as the hunter reared to strike, fangs ready to dig deep into flesh, he grabbed it by the neck and moved the body of the beast over his shoulders while holding onto the tail. All the while his body turned in support of his actions. He then turned to face the last hunter, his stance in display of the dominance he had. Surprise was evident on the hunter’s face as his eyes took in the scene in front of him.  

Then in a show of strength, Maximillian crushed the head of the slithering beast in his hands and pulled both ends in opposite directions. This hunter too split in half like the first one.

The last one took a step back in horror. This man was the only one aside from the king that made him afraid.

“Who are you?” He hissed at the prince.

Again Maximillian didn’t bother replying. The king and the rest of the kingdom will find out about him eventually. He wasn’t about to waste time explaining to a dying hunter.  

He struck first this time, eager to put an end to everything. He was in front of the hunter in a heartbeat, eyes dark and remorseless. In turn, the hunter felt colder than normal, and before he could register what was happening, Maximillian’s clawed hand, swiped across his chest, effectively drawing blood and flesh. The wound left his heart exposed to the cold air of the night, and to the more chilling eyes of the prince. It was still beating fast, but with a single sharp talon, it took its last beat.

The dark of the night sky was the last thing he saw.