Draconic Amnesty

Chapter 23 - Unity

Wren only vaguely remembered how she’d escaped from Ilyth, how she’d flown through a stone column as if it were sand, and how fast Ostyth had fled with his tail between his legs. However, with vivid detail, she recalled the slippery warmth of Elias’s intestines as she’d tried, unsuccessfully, to reattach the halves of his body.

“You fool.” She cradled his head on her lap. “Why did you fight him? Why?”

Blood poured from the corners of his mouth when he tried to speak. Though he couldn’t utter a single word, she heard his thoughts. You look pretty, even when you’re crying.

Her tears dripped onto his hair and a wan smile formed on her face. It was the first time he’d ever called her pretty. Promise me you won’t die.

I — His lids drooped. Tell my mom I love her.

No! You’re going to tell her. Promise me, Elias. You won’t die!

His eyes shut and pink bubbles frothed at his mouth. Wren screamed, both mentally and vocally, shaking smaller rocks from their resting places. Clouds accumulated and darkened. A thick bolt of lightning struck a column, setting its tip on fire like a candle.

Enough! Ilyth’s reprimand stunned her into silence. It’s clear my worthless granddaughter intends on bearing no children. She’s fallen in love with this human and likely doomed my lineage to extinction. Nevertheless, I cannot return to slumber with her in this state. Bring the human to me. 

Two black draconics, male and extremely fast, swooped in and tore Elias from her grasp. They carried both parts of his body to the Queen. Ilyth opened her mouth and the black draconics deposited Elias on her tongue.

No! Wren rose to her feet, horrified. Grandmother, you can’t do that! He’s human. You — you can’t —

Would you rather he died, child? Ilyth’s maw snapped shut and she swallowed.

Wren flew at her and pounded on Ilyth’s snout, fists bouncing ineffectively. Give him back!

Sit. Ilyth’s command could not be disobeyed, and Wren sat and wept.

Ilyth’s eyes brightened to the point where the columns cast shadows, and her nostrils vented smoke like a coal-fired power plant. Lightening struck Ilyth’s back and tail so frequently, Wren’s hair stood on end after a few seconds.

He’s going to hate me. Wren had heard stories of Ilyth resurrecting humans long before her birth. However, according to the myths, the humans always became...inhuman — monsters with little resemblance to their former selves.

Relax child, Ilyth sent. Most of the changes will not be permanent. I’ll need at least a century of rest after this, so you should be thanking me.

The lightning ceased, the smoke dissipated, and Ilyth’s neck undulated as if she was regurgitating something large. When she opened her mouth, a white egg rolled out. Though slimy and covered with ridges, it was the most beautiful thing Wren had ever seen.

She placed her hand upon the shell and ran her fingers over the grooves, not caring that the mucous-like substance stuck to her scales. Nearly as tall as her, the egg mesmerized her and she wanted to hug it.

It vibrated, cracked, and a small silver dragon poked its head through the jagged opening. It looked like any other hatchling, except for its silver scales and brown eyes. They were the eyes of Elias, eyes that solidified the air in her lungs and infused her entire body with a blissful vulnerability.

Feed him, Ilyth sent. Over the course of four days, he’ll grow to a size appropriate for his age. He’ll remain a dragon for a few weeks before returning to human form.