Page 62 of House of Ashes
The sun shining on my skin felt so good after years of Mistward’s gloom and the week of coldness in the northern reaches of the Krysien Mountains. Even after nearly twelve exhausting hours of clinging to a dragon, focusing on the rocking motions to keep myself from shattering with excitement, I couldn’t help but luxuriate in the warm touch of light on my hair and sun-starved skin.
He had chosen a direct route over Akalla, passing over the southern portion of his territory, and skirting the edges of the Mourning Fangs and Lunar Tides territories. The mountains gave way to hills and finally to green plains, then the lush forests that stretched across much of southern Akalla.
With stiff legs, I stretched and popped my back, then, over Rhylan’s shoulder, I saw what lay ahead of us with a fresh surge of elation.
I had never seen my own territory from the sky before. I was used to the view from the eyrie itself, but from dragonback, I had a view of the shimmering lakes before us, the blue jewels known as Aurae’s Tears, and the spire of my eyrie rising like a granite needle from their midst.
My Ascendant had once told me the story of how she’d created this eyrie; the range of karst mountains that had surrounded the Tears had been destroyed, one by one, until only the tallest remained. It had been lovingly carved and molded into an eyrie, while the forest had slowly crept over its fallen siblings at its feet. Now, ten thousand years later, there was no sign there had ever been other mountains at all.
“Varyamar,” I whispered, my eyes burning with unshed tears. I took a deep breath, but we were still too far to smell the jasmine of my home.
I leaned over Rhylan’s side as far as I dared, taking in the settlements that dotted my territory, and for the first time my elation took a blow.
No lanterns were lit, even as twilight fell; I focused on a wyvern-rider post, and saw that vines had crept over several buildings, nearly disguising them in the surrounding forest.
My people…were not there. Maybe they had taken refuge in the eyrie itself, but doubt assailed me as we flew closer towards the stone spire, and still no lights announced the presence of anything living.
Fear crept in on silent feet. When my father had struck Silvered Embers from the rolls of the great Houses, surely he had not also sentenced the Bloodless under our aegis. Even if my mother had lied about her hand in Anjali’s death, they would have been innocent of any treason.
But…the land below was empty. Not even other dragonbloods had encroached. All was still and silent, nothing but the breeze and wildlife moving below.
Or, nearly as bad a prospect as my father condemning them, perhaps they had simply left. Without a House to run the eyrie, without dragons to defend them, perhaps the Bloodless of Silvered Embers had found protection elsewhere.
I was finally home, and yet it was a hollow, empty victory. I had no army to back my House, no tenants of the land. We had never been able to boast of cities in our territory, but even the smaller outposts were hidden under a cover of verdant canopy, lost and forgotten.
It was my territory, and yet it was a wasteland.
Exhaling a sigh and letting it get lost in the wind, I reached out and pressed my palm flat against Rhylan’s scarred back. The warmth of his scales reassured me, pushing the fear back.
This could be fixed. As soon as the Silvered Embers were re-listed in the rolls, I could send word far and wide that my people were welcome to return home. I could make offers of land to new Bloodless, expand our territory. Perhaps I could even start the seeds of a proper city, right on the banks of Aurae’s Tears, and leave a legacy for…not for my children, as I would not have them in this life without a proper mate, but for whoever came after me.
Rhylan snorted and tossed his head when I removed my hand, and I patted him. “Almost there.”
The closer we flew, the more details stood out. My House’s eyrie was a thing of beauty, the single karst mountain carved into a terraced spire from top to bottom, and crowned with an open-air atrium. The gardens overfilled their terraces now, bursting over the ledges in wild abundance so it seemed to be dripping with greenery.
Now I could smell the jasmine, taste the moonflowers on the breeze. A tear slipped free, rolling down my cheek and flying off into the wind.
I wiped my face hurriedly as Rhylan circled the peak of the eyrie, where a pale terrace awaited us, the circular dragon door nearly crusted over with jasmine vines. He dropped through, crushing vines underfoot and filling the air with the bright scent of sap and heady perfume of trampled petals.
I groaned as I dismounted, my legs taking more than a few minutes to loosen up. I paced the terrace as Rhylan shifted, giving him a moment of privacy to dig through the packs and pull fresh clothes on.
It was harder than I’d expected to avert my eyes, but still…it was the polite thing to do, even if dragons were used to walking around completely naked half the time.
Besides, I’d only fuel the fires of his ego if he caught me peeking.
Instead, I examined the dragon terrace. It had appeared overgrown from the air, but on foot, it was utterly wild and untamed. During my pacing, I almost caught my foot in a lush tangle of moonflower that was strangling the marble columns.
Four years, I reminded myself. When had the Bloodless left? If it was right after our sentencing, then these doors had been sealed for four years.
Something touched my shoulder. I whirled around, finding Rhylan only inches away from me, wearing a pensive expression.
“Sera…”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “I know. My people left. I can’t say I blame them…we weren’t here for them. There was no House to protect them so they did what they had to do. And when Silvered Embers returns from the ashes, I’ll send out the call to come home, and they’ll have…me. They’ll have me to watch over them again.”
I’d almost said us, but there was no us.
They would have the future Dragonesse Serafina, which would be enough of an aegis on its own to reassure my dragonbloods and Bloodless.