She was a member of Clan Aždaja. She was dragonkin, accepted by the Isand himself, and she loved the baffling culture she had been adopted into.
Though she didn’t see him as often as she would like, Hele was delighted to receive regular gifts from Vael. He sent books he thought she would enjoy to her tablet. He had pale blue blankets — fire retardant, of course — delivered to her after her first flight with Taevas. For her birthday, he escorted her to the Roost’s library and watched her read, a lopsided smile on his deep green face. He didn’t speak much, but that didn’t bother her. She spoke enough for the both of them. Besides, his quiet was relaxing — an extension of that stillness she craved.
He was a perfect complement to her riotous thoughts and impulses; a strong hand that held her tethered, lest she shoot off into the lonely expanse once more.
It took her a year and six months to understand that the warmth she felt for her personal sun was not the same as what she felt for her family. It was… different.
Brighter. Hotter.
She wanted to see him more, but he was busy working as one of Taevas’s bodyguards, so their paths rarely crossed. When she did manage to catch a glimpse of him, she felt a curious weightlessness, like the moment before she let go of her physical form, except not. It was a new feeling. Shelikedit.
One year, eight months, and two weeks from her fall, Hele stood in the doorway of the family dwelling and watched as Constantin swept his Chosen into his wings and kissed her. She watched, and she blinked, and she thought,I want Vael to do that.
And then everything began to spin again.
ChapterThree
May 2047 - Drummond Island, The Draakonriik
“I want my own roost.”
Constantin, a huge royal purple dragon with laugh lines and an abundance of salt and pepper curls, looked up from his tablet to meet her gaze. Valerie sat beside him on the low sofa that spanned most of the sunken living space, sipping a cup of tea and looking utterly unsurprised.
Constantin lowered his tablet to rest on his knee. “Pardon?”
Hopping deftly over the back of the couch, Hele landed in the center of the seating area, her feet bare and her expression determined. “I want my own roost. Like Alex. I want to be like her.”
Valerie, a deep, deep red to complement her Chosen’s purple, set her mug down on the coffee table before she held out a clawed hand. Out of habit, Hele grasped it and let her mother reel her in. Sparks jumped from Hele to Valerie, but her tough dragon skin had no trouble handling the tiny bites of electricity — unlike some electronics, and a number of ill-fated dresses she made the mistake of purchasing from non-dragon owned businesses.
“Minu tütar,”her mother crooned, “where is this coming from? Yourisaand I have only had you in the nest for two years. I knew this would come, but I thought we had more time.”
“Alexandra is much older than you, sweet,” her father chimed in, brow furrowed and lips tight. “You cannot expect to be like her so soon. She is sixty years old.”
Hele jutted her chin out. “I amthousands.”
Valerie squeezed her hand. “Yes, this is true, but there is still so much you don’t know about the world. What if you don’t like living on your own? I worry about you being lonely,tütar.”
She had learned so much in the two years since her fall, but had yet to master patience. Hele felt her hair spark and sizzle, the ends of the long, shifting strands dissolving into electricity as her temper began to fray.
Don’t lose your head,she heard Alex, their other daughter, say.If you want something, you have to keep your cool. Exploding into sparks will just make it easier to not take you seriously.
Alex always had good advice, so Hele did her best to listen to her. She was confident and, at least to her untrained eye, worldly. It was Alex who took her shopping. It was Alex who showed her all the best sunning spots around the lake. It was Alex who taught her how to use her tablet, and introduced her to fun books about love and sex and tragedy.
Hele looked at Alex and didn’t just admire her for her swagger, but for herlife.Alex lived life how it pleased her. She had her own roost. She took home lovers and flew high without supervision. She did not need things explained, nor to be coddled.
While Hele knew her situation was based entirely on her needs — shedidneed questions answered, to be coddled, to have a family — she was ready to take her next steps into the life she had only dreamed of.
Independence. Fun. Responsibility. Duty to the clan. Love.
Vael.
“I will not be lonely,” Hele assured them. “I will still see you, yes? If I have a roost, I can come back like Alex and Artem do.”
Though she felt fairly sure, there was a wavering note of uncertainty in her voice. It happened that sometimes she made assumptions. Had she made another assumption that when she left the nest she would still be theirtütar,one of their offspring like her brother and sister? They often left for long stretches of time. Alex lived with the other single dragons on the mainland, and Artem had a Chosen and his own mountain in the Elvish Protectorate. They both came back to their family nest often. Would it be different for her?
Constantin set his tablet aside and reached out to grasp her free hand. His fingers were large and wickedly clawed. She always felt small compared to her family, though she knew that she towered over many other people in the world. “Sweet, of course you will always have a place in the nest. You belong to us. You know this.”
A tight ball of anxiety began to unwind in her chest. The dragons had accepted her as one of their own without question, but still, she wondered about her place. “All right,Isa.”
