REYN

Lightning set alight the dark edge of his mindscape. Cushions embraced him when he tried to squirm out of its embrace. It dug into his fingers with flaked chips of rusted metal. It oozed crimson into his fingers and fluttered muscles into wings. Bile filled his throat and the chiming bells swallowed the roars and screams. Voices unrecognizable swirled and danced in the maelstrom, casting its core on the foaming sea.

I ran away. I ran from the castle. I ran from Father.

Sungrove, set to the torch and everyone died. Lord Soren, who fought to reach home — but the volley never let him see his family one last time.

Father killed him. He killed them all.

Fenrer Pyren, a little boy no older than himself, given no mercy or quarter.

Reyn dug his fingers into the comforter beneath him and set Father to the torch in his own mind. It gnawed in his heart with molten teeth forged in the fires of hate. Oak raised around him to create walls embedded with stone foundations. Incense swirled in small wall sconces. Statuettes four sat at the corners of the room on wooden pedestals, each carrying a colored candle to spread their shadow. Outside the crying window, the trees weaved with the wind. Catwalks wound around gardens and never intruded into nature.

Is this... a shrine? Where did... Saphir take me?

He leaped into the farthest corner of his bed when a shadow opened his door. Back against the wall, he whimpered at the woman who stood there, her headdress rested past her shoulders and across her chest. It merged into a robe of white trimmings and grey lace.

"You are awake."

Trust no one. Trust no one.

Her footsteps drew closer and he stared at his feet. "Can you look at me, young one?"

Reyn shook his head.

"I won't cause you harm," the priestess said. "We found you on the steps of the shrine, sick and weak."

Reyn stole a glance at her oval-shaped face. Dark curls tucked outside the headdress to give herself the appearance of a mane. Her smile grew, but he lacked the strength to return the kindness.

"What is your name?"

A dangerous question, but Father hid him in the shadows to be shamed and forgotten.

"Reyn," he whispered.

"Reyn," she echoed. "A strong, powerful name. What are you doing so far inland? You hail from the coast, unless I am mistaken?"

Reyn wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked along the blankets. "My village was attacked by raiders. I... I ran all the way here and I must've tripped." He frowned when she drew out a phial full of cerulean stars out of a pocket in the inner lining of her shrine robes.

"Drink this. You have severe magick burnout."

Did... Did I imagine that dragon? He dared not to believe otherwise — a mythical Aeoniir would never heed the weakest call of magick. I'm not a dragon...

"I am real, hatchling."

Saphir's voice startled him out of his own thoughts, then took a drink of the phial at the priestess' urging. "You said I'm inland? Where am I?"

"You're in a shrine to the Gatekeeper of the world's branching echoes, Ojain. We are on the outskirts of Draken's Descent," she explained, then her smile softened. "I should give you my name to uphold her balance, Priestess Gylita. Are you hungry, Reyn?"

Reyn tasted the sand on his tongue, and forced himself to nod, and she left the room.

Saphir?

"I am here, hatchling."

His single comfort in a world of shadows and monsters. Thank you for helping me...

"You do not need to thank me. You will be a dragon, given time."

Hope crumbled in his fingers in a steady stream of crimson to scream out the prisoner's pain. Rain left trails of sparkled truth along the windows and lightning tore through the sky. Through the scattered reflection, Priestess Gylita returned with a steaming bowl and set it on the bedstand.

"It is alright if you cannot eat it," she said. "It is clear you've been through much. I suggest you find the balance within your body once more. Rest and recover your strength."

Strength? I never had that... Reyn scooped the bowl into his lap, rolling the spoon around the rim. He took a sip of risks. The broth filled the cracked terror in his throat with warmth. "Thank you..."

"We'd never leave a child out in this storm, and there is no need to thank us. You can stay here to recover. Do you have anywhere else to go, Reyn?"

"No."

"You had no family outside your village?"

Reyn looked back to the storm to the reflection in the window. Fenrer, but in a flash of lightning, the little boy disappeared with the light. "No," he whispered to rest his hand against the glass, to feel the touch of lightning on his fingertips to bring the innocent life back. "I have no one left anymore."

Gylita frowned and tipped her head forward, causing the headdress to hide her features. "I am so sorry. Know that they will find peace in Velteraiia, and someday their spirits will travel this branch of the world once more, to continue the cycle and live again."

Will the prisoner get that too? Will they live a better life, away from the king? So many things he didn't and couldn't know for sure, for assurance, for safety.

"You need to get some rest," she said. "May I check your magick?"

Pain and grief filled his bloodline — it revealed how weak he was beneath his skin. He held out his forearm, and she ran two fingers down to his wrist. It tickled, and he squirmed and expected sparks to eat them both. He stopped when droplets of water gathered over his fingertips. It brought no pain to his heart. Out of her grip, it disappeared and slicked down into his palm.

"You'll recover," she remarked. "Give yourself a few days. I shall be in the shrine if you require anything."

Reyn waited for her to disappear behind the oak door then faced the outside. Rain pattered against glass and roared with distant thunder. He pressed his hand against the pristine surface, daring to try something more. Soren's voice rocked through his mind. Electricity crackled in his ears as he tried to keep his focus.

A tiny arc of lightning cracked along the bridges of his fingertips. Stalwart and ready for his movement. It flashed and curled into tiny spheres around the droplets. He dragged his fingers down into a fist, and the magick disappeared.

Reyn flopped back into his sheets and his head hit the pillow.

Dragons greeted him once more when he opened himself to the mountain.

As before, the sable dragon waited for him.

"I thought you left." Reyn rolled over onto the mural.

"'Twould be difficult," he answered through a fiery rumble in his throat. "This is my home."

"Your home is... my head?" Confused, Reyn sat up.

His scales shimmered with black embers when he uncoiled from his nest. His every step shook the world when he descended from his peak. "I fear the truth is more complicated than that, blood of my blood." A shadow grew around him, but for once, Reyn found no fear inside the coals.

"Who are you?" he asked. "I... I heard you mention Kolis' name, and that we are closer than I believed — but you're a dragon." He dropped his head. "I'm not a dragon."

"Another truth more complicated than words," the dragon of glimmered coals pointed out. "I am no more a dragon than you. I suppose you could say I taught Kolis — where I gave, unto him, the secrets of lightning, of the power of nature."

Reyn raised an eyebrow. "His... teacher was a dragon? Is that why they called him the Dragon King?"

He swore a smile touched the dragon's fiery, beaded pupils. "Tell me, Reyn Kolis. What is lightning?"

Father said lightning was our power; our force, our strength. He never wasted a breath to remind him he had none of those things. No power. No force. No strength. His voice drowned out by the quietest clap of thunder. He held out his hand to the dragon, and lightning answered his quiet call. The dragon blinked, leaving the third eyelid to lag behind when the pupils widened.

"It is nature's power — a gift. It's a resounding reminder of the world tree," the dragon explained. "It is energy, louder than a roar, but also quieter than the whisper of a mouse. It is what surrounds us, and the magick which is within you. It is the energy which created this world and gave it meaning. From you, to Kolis."

"Kolis was the strongest," Reyn recalled. Excited dread struck his heart. "He could call upon a storm on the clearest days. Everyone bowed to him as the pillar of Haneka, one of the flames of its heart." His heart jumped straight into his throat. "If you're his teacher, can I meet him?" Terror crushed his hope, and he sank deeper into the mural. But what if he's like Father? What if he sees me as weak for being unable to conjure lightning? He hugged himself.

"Yes, I do know him, but as for meeting him—" The dragon coiled onto his level. "Only when you are ready, Reyn."

Soren's memory overtook his tinge of hope. Soren, the man who brought him to Sungrove and showed him love, warmth, and compassion; who held himself on equal ground against his king and wielded the dawn.

Father murdered him, his family, all those innocent people, and salted the ground of Sungrove with the blood of its caretakers.

"This—" He whimpered and showed his weak lightning again. "This is all I can do. If I do more, it hurts. Can you help me? Can you help me like you taught Kolis?"

The black dragon came closer. "I cannot teach you as I taught Kolis, but I can show you what I showed him."

"Show me?"

"Deep within, Reyn, you know how to use your gift," the dragon said. "I shall give unto you what I gave Kolis. I must ask you to never look away from the scattered light. You will understand, come time. My gift unto you, blood of my blood. For true power is not in strength, but in the love of our star."

Storm clouds rumbled on the mountain peak. White energy cracked on the silver touched bases. Reyn frowned when the dragon opened his mouth, and several rows of teeth slipped out of small pockets. It stretched further from his scorched gums. Arcs of lightning twirled to their razor sharp tips. It bounced into the back of his throat. Electric light fell into the rune below to dance along the mountain face. Reyn snapped to his feet when the mountain shook, and the storm roared.

The dragon closed its throat as the lightning expanded on his tongue. Reyn shivered when he coiled around him to meet him at eyelevel, before drawing onto his hindlimbs. His wings held straight into the air, to touch the angry clouds themselves. Lightning bounced from cloud to cloud, to poke the peaks with power. Thunder rumbled not in the storm above his head, but in his chest.

Energy burned the coals into white, and the dragon opened his mouth to the sky.

Bolts of lightning screeched out of his jaw to pierce the sky in a jagged lance. Clouds, bursting with power, burst into smaller arcs to hit the crystals on top of the pillars. It crawled back into the sky to spread light throughout the storm. Dragons cried in jubilation and happiness, taking to the sky and diving into the clouds. Reyn withdrew his hand when the black dragon fell back onto his forelimbs. Arcs slipped down his maw when he closed his jaw.

Lightning weaved through the pillars and the moisture in the air. It coursed deep into the mountains, and set alight the mural at his feet.

"Reyn." His voice coiled through his ears when he climbed back onto his perch. "What is it you think Kolis saw when he beheld this?"

"I... I don't know."

The dragon lifted his head when the lightning carved through the sky to touch the massive, starlit horizon. "It is this... connection to our star," he whispered. "It is the crack of thunder, the lightning strike... the call of the dawn. To have beheld the sundering of the heavens to reveal hope — there is no greater proof of that love, of the love I bore for the promised dawn. The truth I learned. The song many shall sing, forevermore."

Reyn closed his eyes at the dissipating light, but when he checked once more, it was no longer a dragon who sat on the perch. It was a man, donned in armor woven with black chains and leather. He sat with both hands leaning against the edge as he smiled down at him, eyes empty but of the burning coals. "Lightning is energy, and thunder is its resounding call."

It coalesced with the chorus of dragons. It turned into a deep hum of a lullaby, of someone's voice he couldn't remember.