Shifters Forsaken: Shifter Romance Collection Bks 1-5
Page 58
What would those at her school think to see this little society of three different races getting on? To hear about that history they babbled, of a past plagued by the evil of humans, of races fighting in an unbeatable war, of resorting to drastic measures and changing the face of magic forever. Of knowing that wyrms with their souls uncorrupted were just like anyone else. Capable of good, as well as evil.
It disturbed her. Killing evil creatures pleased her. Killing creatures that were cursed, and if fixed, might revert to good – it didn't please her.
Even though Elise had shown her a glimpse of what that might be like. Even though she didn’t detect that same level of animosity in Kit and Fran from the other wyrms she managed to encounter in her life.
Isera curled up in her bed, still a little groggy from her sleep as her brain whirred through the thoughts. The wyrms killed her parents. They gave Matron Ana the scars on her arms, made all the servants of the house scurry about in fear. They let humans be crushed by rocks in the mines, or cough blood onto the walls.
Fire glimmered about her hands, singing some of the feathers. Panicked, Isera got up and tried to put out the tiny flames.
“I've heard of people pissing themselves in bed,” Kit said, “but never accidentally setting fire to themselves before.”
Isera suppressed a shriek. She puffed up with indignation instead. “What are you doing here?” Seriously, was he just standing there, staring? What next? Peering through the door as she went to the toilet? Attaching himself to her back so she couldn’t be rid of him?
“Well, I came to wake you, because you’ve been asleep for almost a day.”
Isera groaned, rolling herself out of bed. “Are you sure you weren't just standing there in a creepy way watching me? And sorry about the covers.”
“It's okay. And no. Alron was doing that earlier on, though. I think he thinks you’re pretty.”
In response to hearing his name, Alron popped his head through the door, grinning in a hideous way.
“Is there a lock for the door?”
Kit smirked. “I suggested that once, but Alron just smashes down the doors if they’re locked. It’s easier on all of us this way. Meet you in the kitchen in five. We have some more porridge.”
Right. A drake with tendencies to smash locks living in the house/cave/abode. That didn’t alarm her at all.
Muttering to herself, Isera got dressed again in those white robes with their pretty sparkles. She examined her sleeves, feeling like a caterpillar wrapped in beauty. These types of clothes didn't suit her at all. All she'd worn for her entire life were servant uniforms, and then the thick furs that enabled them to cope with the cold mountains. Never something so garish, so gaudy. The neckline puffed around like those fox fur scarves she’d seen on rich wyrms of the estate.
“Look at who’s dressed up to kill!” Kit gave her an admiring look when she made it into the kitchen, which for some reason made blood heat in her neck and cheeks. She managed to hold it back enough to stop the transition into an embarrassed flush, though she did end up sitting at the furthest point away from him. She’d seen attraction happen before. Sure he might be handsome in that kind of mysterious, otherworldly way, and irritatingly garrulous as well. But that meant nothing. Nothing at all. And he’d already managed to rack up some molestation to his record as well. True she probably shouldn’t have squirmed so much, but did he need to grip that hard?
Fran and Alron helped spoon out from the porridge pot already set up upon the table, and then the mute drake stared openly at her, even when he dipped his spoon into the porridge and ate it.
“Okay, can you stop doing that, Alron?” Isera picked up her spoon. “I’d like to eat without someone staring at me like I’m a hunk of meat.”
“When he wants to do something, there’s not really so much we can do against it. Not unless we yell at him. He’s not hurting anyone like this though.” Kit sounded oddly defensive of Alron, and Fran didn’t contribute anything of her opinion towards it. Likely the sister got this treatment from Alron as well.
“If you’re wondering about why we don’t have parents,” Fran said, tucking her long dark hair back, “because I’m sure you’ve been thinking about it at some point – they’re not alive.”
The food became rocks in Isera’s throat. She swallowed painfully. Not something she quite expected to have slammed into her face over food. “I – I’m sorry.”
“They died almost twenty years ago. Shortly after the barrier came down. They went too far from the protection of Wizen.”
“What do you mean that they went too far?”
“I mean that they just dropped dead. The Old Ones say it’s because of the curse in the world. It’s also what almost killed Alron and made him who he was today. He was one of the drakes trying to explore beyond everything. But he couldn’t go far enough. So now we know it’s dangerous for us to go too far.”
“A lot can change in twenty years,” Kit said, sounding as if he pursued an old and familiar argument. “Who’s to say we can’t go further now?” If the memory of losing his parents pained him, he didn’t let it show – except for maybe clenching his spoon a little too hard.
“The Old Ones think our immune systems simply can’t cope with the new world.” Fran shrugged, whilst Alron continued his disturbing manner of staring at Isera. He really needed to stop shoveling food like that, along with chewing with an open mouth. It was gross, as well as embarrassing. However, hearing that he had been damaged by their first attempts to explore the world made her a little more sympathetic.
Only a little, though.
“I just don’t see the point in keeping up our perfect little existence here if we’re never going to make it to the outside world. We have living evidence there’s change in Isera.”
“The Old Ones have said no.”
“But Narak thinks otherwise.” Kit folded his arms belligerently, jaw jutting out.
“Narak isn’t as important. He might be one of our leaders but no one can go against the final decision of the Old Ones.” Fran aggressively chewed on her porridge, face clouded over in anger. “Seriously, brother. I know you want to lick Narak’s boots, but that’s not the point here.”
He scoffed indignantly. “We can’t just ignore everything, Fran! The wyrms are getting closer. They’re expanding. We will be found, sooner or later. We have to do something. We need to get out of here. Like we were supposed to at some point.”
“We can’t move. Don’t you get it? The same thing that killed our parents will kill us. We just can’t.”
Isera had momentarily dropped her spoon on the table, listening with wide eyes to the conversation unfold. These two really liked to argue, didn’t they? “I take it this is a little bit of a sore subject to approach?”
“Yes,” Fran said, at the same time Kit announced, “No.”
Right. “I also thought Narak seemed pretty important. He was leading the expedition to that fort, right?”
“Yes.” Kit nodded, before giving a rather petulant twist of his lips at Fran. “If the Old Ones have control over our existence, then you can say Narak has control over our hearts. Everyone knows he has the real power anyway. The Old Ones are just a bunch of trees in a cave. He’s innovative. He wants us to get out there.”
“He also wants to kill the people you come into contact with,” Fran pointed out. “Like those wyrms.”
“They’re not strictly people, Fran.”
“Excuse me? We’re wyrms as well. In case you hadn’t noticed. Or have you forgotten that little fact in the face of your new love interest?”
Isera again hid her impulse to blush as best as able, though resentment also began to creep through her. Silently, she agreed with Kit’s view more than his sister. Staying locked up in one place led to misery. People needed change. And the world changed, even if you rebelled against it. If she’d stayed in that mansion, always being too afraid to venture out, to risk that discovery and death… well. She may as well be living
but dead.
However, the civilization protected here was anything but miserable. If humans had such a place to themselves, wouldn’t they want to preserve it for as long as possible? To shield it from harmful influences?
Kit made a frustrated gesture with his hands. “You know what I mean. They’re cursed. We’re not.”
Alron banged the table with the butt of his spoon, causing everyone to jump.
“I think he’s saying we should eat more, talk less,” Isera said. The drake bobbed his head in enthusiastic confirmation.
They finished off their food, and Fran eventually muttered an apology to her brother. “I understand why you think the way you do, brother. It’s just we can’t go against the Old Ones, and they do make some good points. If we knew for certain we wouldn’t just die…” she shrugged. “Then sure.”
“That’s why we need to test it out again.” Kit turned his attention away from his sister, beaming at Isera. “So, uh. How about I show you around the place? You probably don’t want to only see the inside of our house for your stay here, right?”
“Sure.” Isera may as well gather some information while being here. Although… maybe she didn’t want to explore with Kit if it was just the two of them. Something about him bothered her. She couldn’t quite pinpoint the feeling. But it hovered there in a little gray cloud above her head, waiting for her to identify it.
Alron didn’t follow, instead going for his third helping of breakfast. Stepping outside greeted them to a view of a sky enchanted to simulate daylight. The sun had a few hints of clouds, with shadows and tones that made the whole thing appear realistic. What a strange place. Removed from time. Removed from responsibility and suffering.
And the moment these people went out into the world, they died.
“The main residential area is through these catacombs,” Kit said, offering his arm to Isera. Hesitantly, she took it, unsure if she liked the idea of being arm in arm with a wyrm or not. Or just Kit. He wasn’t a terrible person, to be fair. A kindness emanated from him, now that she overlooked the initial fact of what he was, and fought against her assumptions that he must be sinister and twisted in some way. That way of thinking stifled the person that existed. A person she now focused on getting to know. Partly because she knew she had little other choice if she wanted to survive.
Most people didn’t seem to like her presence here, and she got an overdose of flinty glares, even as she walked with Kit and listened to him talk about his home. Being friendly with Kit, Alron and Fran probably was the best way to maintain her survival here. Just as long as he didn’t pull any throwing over the shoulder stunts again.
Making sure Narak didn’t reject her either might help as well, since Kit spoke of him having real authority beyond the Old Ones. And maybe she could get some training for her magic, learning to conjure more than just tiny fireballs.
Honestly, though, a big chunk of her wanted to escape. She wanted to get information to Artiz and Seon that she lived. She wanted to know if Artiz and Fian and the rest lived.
If only Kit had just let her go, instead of taking her back.
“Most people learn at some point to use the tools and harvest from the fields. In some caverns you can’t see from here, we keep our livestock. The things we tend to trade here are trinkets and skills. We abolished the monetary system I think a couple or so centuries back because it’s pointless. With having no one else to trade with and all.”
Isera nodded, before saying, “How old are you, then?” May as well ask. She held back on it before, but the way he spoke sounded as if he’d been alive for centuries.
I hope he isn’t that old. She instantly admonished herself for that thought. Why should it matter how old he was? It changed nothing.
“I’m about forty years,” he said. “Expected to live for another three centuries. Fran and I are among the youngest here.”
Forty. Isera had just hit her twenties herself. An age gap of two decades… yes. That was alright.
Not that age gaps made much of an impact when the person in front of her maintained their youthful appearance. Or, well. It didn’t matter. She shook her head, and it felt as if dust fluttered away from her brain and her stomach.
“How old are you, then?”
Isera told him, and he smiled. Again, that lurch in her insides. Apparently, smiles were dangerous. She didn’t like that upset of balance at all. “Plenty of years yet to learn your magic. I for one would love to see what you can do with your fire. We can go to the training ground later if you want?”
Hard to not get caught up in that enthusiasm he showed. It made her want to talk, to… prompt more smiles, somehow. “Sure.”
“Excellent. You know, I don’t have any skills myself. My sister does, though. She gets a little frosty if you know what I mean.”
“Frost magic?” Isera tried to hide her alarm. She’d never heard of wyrms having any magical abilities beyond the power of Sniffing, but the thought that they had the same access to power as her…
Magic was the only advantage humans had against those beasts.
“Yes. I’d say about a third of the people here have magic. Not always impressive abilities, but it seems we have a lot of recycled souls here that retain the magic. So tell me. What do you think of this place? Impressive? Dull?”
Isera gritted her teeth as someone bumped into her on purpose, jarring her bones.
“Hey!” Kit spun on the human who crashed into her. “Watch where you’re going!”
The man continued walking, saying nothing. Isera massaged her shoulder, glowering, convinced that the man intended to do some serious injury, like dislocating her bones.
“They don’t seem to like me here much, do they?”
“I’m not going to lock you indoors.” Kit sighed. “Although I could just bundle you over me again.”
“Please don’t.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I don’t know why people aren’t more pleased to see you. I think you’re the best thing we’ve have in a long time. And that’s not just related to your beauty, of course.”
The compliment, even though part of wasn’t specifically aimed for her, caused a pinched, tense feeling to trickle into Isera’s neck. The temperature of her face raised slightly. “I think Wizen is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it. And I never even knew… you could do something like the sky with magic.” Again, her attention drifted to the sky. Different from the gloomy, ice covered mountains of the Frostlands, or the murk of the swamps with their snow-covered leaves and high points. “We’ve lost so much knowledge. I know my friends back home would love to find out about a community where all three races apparently get on. It’s unheard of for us.”
“How did you even end up in that cage in the first place? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Shrugging, Isera explained about the trip with her friends to locate a new magic user and bring them to safety, and getting waylaid by wyrms patrolling outside the fort. They were likely looking for the magic user as well. She’d tried to defend herself, of course, but… it all happened so fast.
She didn’t want to mention that her current form of fire magic bordered on pathetic. Especially considering how excited he acted at witnessing her perform her ability. Having such a powerful creature like a wyrm openly admire her did get to Isera’s head a little.
Her news seemed to mollify Kit’s excitement, and he regarded her, golden eyes meeting her blues. “Your friends will be looking for you if they’re alive. And you’re worried about them.”
“Yes.” The doubts instantly surfaced. Isera tamped them down, pulling out some of the knots in her stomach. The others should be alright. Artiz could simply fly off in drake form with the rest. But all her thoughts were just speculation. Until someone told her otherwise, she could only guess.
“I really thought I was helping you.”
“You were helping yourself,” Isera said, before she bit down hard on her lower lip. That didn’t quite come out how she intended.
“No. I’m sorry. I’m just… I keep worrying about my friends. I keep wondering if they’re okay or not.”
He accepted this answer. Their linked arms felt like cages. Then, as if taking the first breath after a long time underwater, he said, “You’re not completely wrong, either. I did see you as an opportunity. I did get excited from that. But I truly wanted to help you as well.”
Isera didn’t trust herself to say anything else pertaining to the matter. Not without potentially antagonizing the wyrm. “It’s okay. I’ll just work on getting used to this place for now.”
“Yes! And you can tell me all about what it’s like for you beyond Wizen. The good parts as well as the bad. There is good, right?”
“Yes, of course.” She smiled at him. He proved an easy enough person to smile to. His arm had that way of stiffly swinging, displaying the strong muscles upon him. Even under the weight of his robes, she caught the hint of a well-defined form underneath. Her own white robes contrasted brazenly with the darker tones everyone else opted for, which made her slightly regret the outfit. Fran acted so proud to hand it off, though. Isera just didn’t want to draw more attention to herself than necessary. “Though I imagine hearing such tales will be strange for you.”
“It won’t be strange. Not so long as I have a pretty girl to look at as she tells them. So even if I get bored, I won’t be bored of you.”
Isera blinked. This dragon… was flirting with her. For some reason. Part of her wanted to shut it down from the start, to avoid potential awkwardness later. The other part whispered to her, saying she may as well see where this went. Her mind, unfortunately, now wakened to the fact that someone was flirting with her, started teasing events in her mind. Scenarios like imagining them sitting over dinner. Playing card games. Together on a sofa. Practising magic. Zannis yelling at them. Artiz scowling, and Seon nudging Isera in the side, a wide grin on her face.