Mysoulmateand mysoulbound.
“You’ve always relished tremendously our flights, Omri,”K’haram chuckles.“You used to say there is no greater freedom than being untethered, soaring the skies. That in the calm proximity of the heavens, you would forget the barbarity of the grounds below.”
It’s true. From up here, Imiryion is only beauty, no teeth. A wide expanse of shorelines and mountains, of hoarfrosted plains and peaks covered in flurries of white. A picture of purity and raw nature, speckled from time to time by the presence of living creatures.
There’s no brewing war up here, no impending sense of doom.
Just the heightened awareness of being one with the elements.
From magical dust we emerge, and to magical dust we return; our existence is just a ripple in the fabric of eternity.
“He sounds as if he were wise. And troubled.”
“You were,”K’haram gently corrects me.
“Will you tell me about him—about myself?”
“I will always tell you everything you want to know, Omri.”
K’haram plunges into a loop toward the ground, and my stomach lurches, my heart in my throat.
“You used to love flying close to the mountains, to touch the tips of the highest trees with your fingertips. To watch the sun dip below the horizon and the stars blink into existence from my back.”
I extend my hand as we plow through fluffy white clouds like blooms of cotton flowers, not grasping anything palpable.
“How did you, uhm, how did you bind your soul to me?”
“A dragon knows when his Omri is born.”
His voice is a quiet rumble in my head, and I lean in closer to his body, caressing his midnight black scales, soft like feathers, yet sharp like blades.
“Before youwere born, I was forcefully bound by dark magic to your father. For hundreds of years, I was nothing but a puppet in the blood-stained hands of the worst creature this realm has ever seen.”
A quiet gasp escapes my lips, but I say nothing. I just wait for K’haram to reveal the darkest parts of his tale.
“He found me when I was nothing but a hatchling. Stole me from the nest. I knew the bond he thrust upon me was not the real thing; it felt vile—an abomination, a mockery of the sanctity of what a soul bond is. But his dark magic caged me, forcing me to carry his disastrous will.”
He huffs, puffs of steam forming in the frigid air as a gravel-like sound reverberates from his ribcage under my thighs. A deep shame that is not my own coats the edges of my conscience, the taste in my mouth turning acrid with timeworn regret.
“I did unspeakable things, Omri. No amount of penance could wash away my sins. All the good I have done since then, I can still do, will not grant me a place in Eimirya.”
“Eimirya?” I ask, confused.
“The afterlife, Omri. The mirror of our realm, but better, softer. Unpolluted by greed, hatred, terror, or fear. What do you call it now?”
“I don’t call it anything, K’haram. Heavens, I guess, but it’s more of a concept than an actual place. I don’t—”
I choke on the words, unsure of how to let him down gently.
“I don’t think such a higher plane exists, K’haram.”
“You will one day reach it, Omri, regardless if you believe in it or not,”he says in that deep, baritone voice of his that swirls inside my head.
“Then so shall you, dear friend.”
Who am I to refute his faith? We all deserve our sliver of hope, no matter the shape it comes in.
“No, Omri. The gates of Eimirya are sealed off for me, and I have made my peace with that. I have slaughtered thousands of souls at his command, scorchedthese very lands below us at his behest. I have not earned my afterlife.”
