Finally, he speaks, “Nothing will happen to Ajja. He’s the leader of his pack, the youngest to have ever secured the position, and he’s survived things I couldn’t even dream of making it through. If anything, he has more to lose than I do. The average lifespan of a wraithwolf is nearly a century. Bonding to me means he won’t live as long as he should. But he chose me anyway.”
“Why?” I angle my head.
What interest could a wraithwolf have with a prince? What does Ajja have to gain? From what I’ve read, beasts choosing to accept the bond are rare. Most Essentari never bond since our lives tend to be much shorter and our interests far more vain.
“I ask him that nearly every day.” He releases a breath that almost sounds painful. “But I’m grateful. He helps me in more ways than I care to explain.” He eyes me, and I hold up my hands, already knowing that asking him to elaborate won’t do me any good. “He’ll help me be a better king.”
“And that’s something you want? To be a good king?” I silently curse myself for asking because his answer won’t matter. I’m sure we have very different definitions of what a good and bad king look like. And his father, who I’m sure he holds in high regard, is the very definition I would use for a bad king.
Telfi believed with her whole heart that the people of our world could be saved. She believed there was a way to cleanse the soil. She believed in the right locations, more wells could be dug, allowing us access to clean water. She believed in her theories so desperately that she wrote to the court weekly, suggesting ways to save the planetandits people.
Every letter went unanswered because the royals, the Elites, they don’t care. And from the weeks I’ve spent living in the palace, I can see why.
Their lives are not impacted by the drought or the famine or the trials. In the bubble the Imperial City exists within, life is prosperous and beautiful, so who would possibly want to be bothered to try tofixthings?
At the rate the world is dying, it’s safe to say that our generation will survive—not thrive, but survive—and maybe the next few after that. But eventually, all life on this planet will succumb to the disease that’s plaguing it, but by then, the current royals will be dead.
So why should they care?
“I do,” he says, those two words sounding so genuine that I want nothing more than to believe them, but I don’t. And I don’t want to talk about this any longer.
“What do you think happened to the dragons?” I ask instead, annoyed that he gets to experience the Etherbond when I never will, but also because I can’t find anything about them in the books he’s brought me.
Every child is told stories of the ancient dragons when their parents try to lull them to sleep. How they protected our world, protected the Ether, and helped ensure harmony existed among the elements.
They were the strongest beasts granted a gift from the core, and sometimes I wonder if there’s a reason the dragons disappeared around the same time the Ether began to poison our land.
Over a century ago, the dragons became extinct.
Over a century ago, the trials began.
Could that really be a coincidence?
But none of those stories have ever included what led to their demise.
“I wish I could tell you,” he says. “But I don’t know much about the dragons, only what my great-, great-, great-, great-grandfather had written in his journals.”
His great-, great-…the Pyro King.
“Did he bond with one?” I ask, feeling more than desperate to get my hands on those journals. To read every word written about the creatures I’ll never get to meet.
“He didn’t. From what he wrote, it seems like none of the dragons were willing to form the bond with him.”
Interesting.
Although maybe not so interesting. Dragons were said to have lived for centuries, so bonding with the king would have shortened their lifespan by quite a bit.
But still, I want to know more about them.
“Any chance I can read those journals?” I ask with eyes that are far too wide.
He glances down at me. “I might know where one still is.”
I smile at that. “I can’t imagine ever having someone else’s voice inside my head.”
“Well, start imagining it. Just because you won’t be able to bond with a dragon doesn’t mean you won’t form mental pathways with other Pyroflame. Fire connects you, and as you strengthen your bond to the element, you’ll be able to communicate mentally with others who possess the same ability.”
“Do you? Communicate with other light and shadow wielders?”
