"You heard your mother. She said it's never happened before." The doubt in his voice isn't missed.
"That just means it's not been done before."
Nyx rakes a hand through his hair before shoving his face into his hands. "Atlas is going to kill me," he groans.
Confusion overtakes me. "Why would you say that?"
"All my life he's told me to pay attention in history class. I thought it was all fairytale bullshit." He sighs. "He's the one who has always wanted to be a dragon rider. He's the one who always studied history and lore and can tell you about all of our ancestors and their accomplishments. It should be him. Not me. I am not worthy."
"Drexel believes you are." I thumb the tear from his cheek. "And I happen to believe you are too."
"I don't even know who Kallias Harland and Baila Basilius were." He says with shame.
"There's always time to learn. I'm sure Professor Riggs would love to tell you all about them." I stand from my crouched position and extend my hand to him. "Come on. If you are to fly with me, you will have to learn quickly. We leave in three days."
Eight
Shaye
"Nyx was chosen by a Frost Dragon?" Eris' mouth flops open and her eyes widen. "How is that possible?"
Dinner tonight is certainly more lively than previous meals once the crew learns about Nyx's Frost Elf lineage. At first, Nyx is hesitant to mention anything, but one Eris starts rattling off question after question, he loosens up and a smile is secured to his face.
Atlas is the first to congratulate him and when I observe him during the rest of dinner, I don't detect signs of jealousy or anger. I know Nyx was concerned his oldest brother would be upset, but either Atlas masks his true feelings exceptionally well – which I know he's capable of – or he's genuinely happy for him. I'll know more once everyone separates for the rest of the evening and Atlas and I are alone in our room.
Despite the awkward start, the six of us enjoy a well-earned night of revelry. We've all been so busy the last month – Ronan up to his neck in meetings, Finn and Eris doing whatever it isthey do to occupy their time here, Nyx shadowing me while I train, and Atlas with Ronan whenever he's not with me – that we've barely had time to enjoy each other's company. I can count on my hand how many dinners we've shared as a group since Bastian attacked. As depressing as our reality is, I know no matter what happens in the next few months, they've got my back.
Once dinner has been consumed and desserts devoured, we all part ways for the rest of the evening. I squeeze Finn and Ronan tighter than ever knowing they'll be boarding a ship tomorrow and leaving without me. And when I wrap my arms around Eris, we both fight tears stinging our eyes. She's become a sister to me, and I wish we didn't have to separate, but I keep reminding myself I will be reunited with them soon. And hopefully, I'll be able to find some way to open the portal to Orabelle.
Apart from the fact my mother wants to see my father again, part of me feels like we will need Enver Sol in the upcoming war. I don't know if it's possible to reconstruct it, but once we make it to Tronovia, we'll have a better idea of what's possible.
Goodbyes offered and hugs have been given, one-by-one they all slip into their respective rooms as Atlas leads me into our chambers and closes the door behind us.
Finally alone, I can finally check on Atlas. "Are you all right?" I ask, attempting to get a proper read on him.
He flashes a bright smile my way and wraps his arm around me, tugging me against his chest. "I'm better now that we're alone." He kisses my forehead. "Are you all right?"
I slip my hands up the planes of his chest and over his sculpted shoulders, tempted to hop up and wrap my legs around his torso. But I refrain, remembering why I asked my question in the first place. "I wanted to check on you. Nyx is worried you're angry."
He pulls back, staring down at me, surprise in his green gaze. "Angry? Why would I – "
"Drexel choosing him."
Atlas' mouth opens and shuts, mulling over his words. "I'm not angry," he confesses. "Jealous, yes. But not angry."
His vulnerability makes my heart ache. I figured he wouldn't be upset with Nyx, but I hadn't considered he would be jealous. "Did none of your ancestors have traces of Frost magic once Baila married Kallias?"
"As far as I know, their oldest son, Erik, had fire magic, and their youngest son, Vali, had frost magic." He releases me from his grasp and plops down onto our mattress. He rakes a hand through his hair. "When their youngest married a Tronovian, their children only had Fire magic. After generations of no new frost wielders, it was assumed there would be no others."
"What of their middle child?" I ask, claiming the spot beside him.
"Tor was born a non-Magical."
"Do you know what happened to him?"
"He went into politics from what I recall," Atlas sighs. I wish I could read his thoughts.
"Which son does your family stem from?"
