He shakes his head as if he’s about to dissuade me, “Look, I like the girl, and I know you have feelings for her?—”
I cut him off, “It’s more than that. We’re tethered somehow. I can’t explain it, but it’s... like she’s part of me.”
Merrik looks exasperated, but I know he has a big heart. My father trusted him. Confided in him. He groans, internally warring with himself.
“Merrik, I need you to come with us to find the vessel. Most of the council are coming, aside from Eldric, Varian, Lady Sylvaine—we’ll need your guidance and intel,” I say. “And I need you to look out for Jax.”
“Ugh,” he grumbles, hesitating, and scrubbing a hand over his beard. He pauses for a long moment, “You know I’ll go wherever you tell me, ya little brat.”
A laugh escapes me, and I slap him on the shoulder. “You, too, Rubes. We need a healer among us, especially with how Elyssara is.”
Rubi has practically lived in the infirmary in Thornewood for years, tending to every ache and pain from children to the elderly. Seeking pleasures in the wild mushrooms and experimenting with brewing her own liquors. I knew she’d jump at the chance to come. “Fuck yes,” she says, pumping her fists in the air. She needs this—an escape, a purpose, a fight worth joining beyond tonics and healing balms.
“I thought you’d be excited,” I laugh.
“And what are we getting excited about?” a voice croaks from behind us.
Elyssara.
“You’re awake,” I rush over to her, taking a seat on the bed.
Merrik and Rubi slip out of the room, leaving Elyssara and me alone.
“How are you?” I blurt the words out, scanning her body for injury.
“I’m... okay, I think,” she says, closing her eyes, assessing. She winces as she shifts in bed, then masks it with a question “Whathappened in the meeting? Did Seren have a plan for the next relic?”
What I say next will almost be as much a revelation to her as finding out she’s the Dravari heir.
What I’m about to tell her is about so much more than the return of the dragons or the next key to unbinding her power. This is personal. Familial.Emotional.
“They did good work—we’re leaving to find it at first light, depending on how you recover,” I begin gently.
“I’m ready,” she says sternly, convincing me.
A small smile stretches across my mouth, “I knew you’d say that.” I pause, softening my tone even further, “There were some significant revelations, El.”
“Oh?” She pulls herself up to sit.
“The Flame-heart from the prophecy is the preserved soul of the last dragon who is dormant. Sleeping,” I explain, and she looks at me wide-eyed. “And the dragons are soul-bound to the Dravari bloodline,” I add. “They’re bound toyou, El.”
She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t blink. Just stares at the wall like the world has tilted sideways again. And maybe it has.
I reach for her hand, not just to comfort her—to remind her I’m still here.
Her fingers entwine with mine, and her gaze slowly comes back into focus, meeting mine with her realization.
“The dragons are real,” she murmurs, voice almost a whisper.
“They are,” I say softly.
“And they’re...mine?” she asks, eyes wide with wonder.
“As the last living Dravari royal, yes. They’re yours,” I say. “We don’t know how we awaken them from their dormant state, we don’t even know where they are. We just know that somehow, the soul of their leader is preserved in a lost kingdom,” I explain. “And we’re going to find it for you.”
She nods slowly, but I can still see the storm behind her eyes—the weight of what this means sparking like a tempest beneath her skin.
“Then, let’s go find my dragon.”
