003: Not Quite Home

My body freezes and I look at the three of them, my sisters, their eyes glowing as the colors swirl within like captured star fire. The joy in their expressions is palatable, filling the room as they look to me as a new hope as if everything rests on my shoulders.

“It will be glorious,” Cosima exalts, holding her arms up in prayer, “Once the celestial fire burns through you, everything will become clear. You will see the words now written, and hear the song once known.”

Seeing my confused face, Nova places a gentle hand on top of mine, “Don’t worry, Sister, you can survive the change. You are just the right type.”

I look at Lyra, who smirks slyly as she holds the secret of what is to come close to her chest like a new babe. Of the three, she was the most likely to tell me the truth--if only to make me miserable with anticipation and fear.

That she hasn’t said a word speaks volumes about her intentions. Whatever it is they have in store isn’t just a simple coronation.

The rest of the ride is silent as the conveyance skids over the surface of metal tracks leading into a city of rubble. From the remaining broken buttresses and outer frames of what were once tall spires, I can imagine what this place must have looked like during its prime. The closer we get to our final approach, the more details become clear and I can see the scars of battle, the places where dragons died, the only thing left of them a stain against marble creating a vulgar silhouette.

We pass through a large crystal dome that arches high enough above us to house the tall spires of the palace aerie with space to spare. Tropical plants and vines in colors and shapes I have no words for, cover every surface, some having grown so bold and brazen over the last century that they have sprung free of their confines to continue their growth along the avenues and paths, even the walls of the dome itself. They dip into pools of crystal clear water and hang above us creating a canopy trapped in crystal.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Lyra’s voice for once isn’t hostile as she looks out the window. “The first time Uncle Thalan brought us here, much of what you see now was rubble. It took us decades to find the materials we needed to make our repairs and many more years to get it to what you see now. If we hadn’t spent the better part of the past 50 years scouring the globe for our stolen treasures, this wouldn’t be more than dust.”

I nod, afraid to say anything, not knowing how her mood might shift. Sometimes she isn’t any harder to be around than any other dragon. There are moments when her frank nature reminds me of my dear sister Ona.

But those moments are rare. Usually, the side I get to see is the one ready to burn the world down around her if it means she also gets to harm those who have wronged her in the past. And in her mind, as someone who left the next only to find love in the arms of the enemy, I am no better than those she despises the most.

I remember when Ona and Primus first explained the idea of the mate bond and also why dragons so rarely find them. “They are often across enemy lines,” a way to keep dragons from killing one another and wiping our kind from the planet completely. If you fall in love with your enemy, you are less likely to want to see them dead.

If only things worked that way. Dragons often ignore those bonds for the sake of marrying for prestige, power, or in the case of war times, victory. It seems we have no problem finding reasons to wish the other dead.

When we finally stop at an elevated platform, which somehow floats above a very large drop to the ground below, Lyra tugs my hidden chains gently urging me to stand.

When I look hesitant to stand on the mysteriously hovering platform she laughs, saying something rude in a tongue I do not know, which soon has her guards laughing along with her. I’ve only learned a few words in Solarian, and even fewer in the tongue of the moon drakes, and knowing my weakness, Lyra continues to use it as a way to dig deeper into that wound.

“Come HUMAN,” Lyra mocks, swinging her braids over her shoulder as she gives me one more scalding look. ”Let’s show you your new quarters.”

As the other dragons glide to the ground I fall like a stone, unable to shift in the collar they have strapped to me, which becomes a noose of sorts as they dangle me from my hidden chains, now shining dully in the midday sun. By the time we land several feet away, I’m gasping.

“Ithana lat HUMAN,” one of the moon drakes snicker, and I scowl. I’ve learned enough of their language to know they are mocking me. I glare, scanning their faces, remembering them for the future. When I escape this, I will want to know who I can trust--and who might need to die.

The quarters must have been luxurious once but now reek of mildew and decay. “Your royal suite,” Lyra mocks as she removes my collar and kicks me in the chest, pushing me back with force as the door appears behind me, a solid sheet of heated thick glass.

Slapping my hands against it, I know any attempts at escape are futile. I’m too weak, too starved, and surrounded by enemies.

Taking a deep breath, I shift into my half-dragon form for the first time in months, letting my wings unfurl painfully from my back, my tail extends from my spine and my talons form where my fingernails once were. I didn’t realize it could ever hurt as much as it did the first time, but my body, having almost forgotten this form again, struggled against reforming.

Screaming through the agony, I am drenched in sweat and blood as the process is finally complete. Great gods above, may I never feel this ever again.

As my body settles, I take a quick inventory of my clutch. Closing my eyes, I use my hands to gently press into my middle. Only 5 eggs this time, thank goddess. I might be able to hide them for a month or so more before it becomes obvious that I’ll go broody. With a more reasonably sized clutch, I won’t need to rest sooner.

“But what if they force me back into being a human,” I sigh. “Will I survive what comes next?”

After cleaning myself and surveying my surroundings for weaknesses, I eventually settled in, falling into a much-needed sleep. Welcoming the part of the inner void within that allows me to travel through dreams, I seek my mate over land and sea. No distance can keep him from me when I dream.

And I need to dream tonight. I need to find my mate.

"Primus," I call gentle to the dark, imagining my shining husband as the human Leon, the version he currently inhabits. "Primus."

Sending ripples of thought through the dream state I seek him out. I’ve always been able to find him here. Even when he is awake, I can sense him and wait.

"Primus," I call again, my heartbeat quickening as he doesn't respond. "My love..?"

The dream state grows silent as my voice echoes out into the nothingness.

He isn't here.

Something must be wrong.