Fated Souls (The Fated Saga Book 1)

by Sariah Skye

  So either she was hiding something, was really stupid (blue dragons were not known for their stupidity) or foolishness or had some odd interest in me.

  "Leo, what’s the big deal? She just wants to get to know you. What’s the problem?" my brother asked, hushed with a shrug.

  I narrowed my eyes. "Because no one wants to know me—at least not anyone with wings." I retorted. I spun on my heels and stormed up the steps. "Don’t spill anymore secrets, okay? I’m going to go help my grandfather waste time on Facebook. Later."

  "Leo—" he called after but I had already walked away.

  I found my grandfather in his chambers, in his electronics room. For an old dragon, he sure loved new gadgets; he had an entire room devoted to them located just off his library. It always made me chuckle walking through the old-fashioned brick and mortar castle that could have been standing in medieval times on earth and enter a room that looked like something out of NASA’s mission control. Walls of speakers, a couple big flat screened TVs, a desk with a computer sprawl and printers and—well, you name it.

  Currently my grandfather was sitting before his computer, the internet turned on the World of Warcraft homepage and he was mumbling something crabbily under his breath. Just because he liked computers and had gadgets and technology didn’t mean he could use it well.

  "Really? You want to play WoW?" I asked, referring to it as the acronym it was known for and stifling a laugh.

  He pulled a pair of headphones off his ears and swiveled in his large leather chair to face me. He laughed. "Oh well, I heard you talk about it enough. Figured I should try it right? There are dragons you said?"

  "Yes, Grandfather there are…. but you don’t play dragons, you ride on them," I explained.

  He frowned and looked disgusted. "Oh…well perhaps not for me then."

  "You can be a gnome or an elf or a werewolf type thing. And you don't have to ride the dragons," I offered, knowing the werewolf bit would get him.

  "Werewolf you say? No vampires?"

  I shook my head. "Undead is the closest but it’s more like a zombie."

  "Oh! That sounds like fun!"

  "You get to eat corpses, it’s a good time," I said sarcastically.

  "Hmm…well perhaps later," he said, with a chuckle, taking his mouse and awkwardly managing to close the window by clicking shakily on the ‘x’ in the corner. "Now what’s troubling you?"

  I smiled sheepishly. "What do you mean?"

  He just gave me a look that saw right through me and I held up my hands in defeat.

  "Okay…okay. What do you think of Kiarra?"

  "Ah…so that was your brother’s betrothed downstairs, not your parents?"

  I nodded. "She is…interesting."

  He chortled shortly. "That’s an understatement. Probably one of the strangest dragons I have ever met, and I’m an Elder for Pete’s sake. I’ve met some strange dragons."

  "Really?" Perhaps I was right to be suspicious.

  "Yes. But strange doesn’t necessarily mean bad. She’s passionate and very kind. Your parents like her very much, despite her unorthodox ways which is saying something."

  "Really." Great, so their future daughter in law is more likable than their actual daughter. Fabulous. Something to be proud of.

  "Why do you ask? Is something bothering you?"

  "Well, I was just thinking of what you said. About feeling that there are difficulties ahead for me but not knowing what they are. There’s something off-putting about her, I just can’t put my fingers on what."

  "Now that’s a hypocritical attitude coming from you, Leorah dear," he said with a scolding tone.

  "No—not like that. I mean…knowing what I know about myself. Why was she so eager to meet me? She was friendly—no one is friendly with me. At least not at first and hell most never are. She knows about the incident in the yard long ago with the fire-breathing…she almost seemed like she was asking about my magic."

  My grandfather raised his brow. "How can you tell?"

  I shrugged. "I think she’s been drilling Braeden for information; he said she was asking him questions about me, and she was so interested in meeting me. That’s a bit…bizarre even for a bizarre dragon. The engagement is rather sudden; wouldn’t you say?"

  My grandfather tried not to cringe. "That’s the unorthodox part, yes?"

  I nodded in agreement.

  "So what do you think she could want from you?"

  "I don’t know…I mean of course no one but Gabriel and perhaps you know my magic—hell I don’t really even know my magic! She was asking about the sparkle-thing. What it felt like, how the other dragon responded…that to me just seems a little odd. Most dragons go ahead making fun of me and calling me Tinkerbell when they hear about my fairy dust breath. No one asks anything about it because no one bothers to care."

  "Hmmm…yes given the new light of ways you’ve been shown I can see why that would be disconcerting. But perhaps you’re just being a little overcautious and jumpy now? Maybe?"

  "Maybe but that’s why I was asking you. I can’t trust my judgment now but as always; I can trust yours."

  My grandfather heaved a sigh. "Yes, a dilemma indeed. Faced with so much unknown. Truthfully, Leo…she hasn’t given me any reason to believe she is up to anything out of the ordinary. In fact, I’ve only spoken to her personally a handful of times, she was interested in hearing about my time spent with Cyril long ago. I was so young then, I can barely remember but I managed to tell her a few things. I really only met him as he was in his last days of sanity, and then he was quarantined until his execution. Or whatever."

  "Hmm…." I tapped my fingers on my chin in thought. "So I am not the only pink dragon she’s interested in hearing about, huh?"

  "There’s really nothing unusual about that. I get asked about Cyril all the time. Everyone is interested in hearing about him; there are very few dragons out there who have any memory of him at all, the rest is hearsay. It’s like telling ghost stories or discussing urban myths: everyone hears things and everyone is interested to hear if it’s true."

  "Yeah, but does anyone ever ask you about me?" I challenged.

  My grandfather thought back. "No, very rarely. Only if your name comes up for some other reason, the politest of dragons will address you as Granddaughter and ask if you are well. That’s the extent."

  I shook my head. "I don’t know. There’s just a lot about it that is strange."

  He chuckled. "Yes, my dear child it is strange. There is little about it that is normal. I think her interest is just pure curiosity and wanting to fit in with the family. Her parents aren’t the warmest of dragons and perhaps she’s just reaching out."

  "To me, of all people?" I was incredulous at the notion.

  "I don’t know what to tell you, Leo. I think she seems like a wise, intelligent dragon but yes she’s a little strange. Personally I think she reads too many books and watches too much TV because she enjoys conducting life as humans do—you know, getting excited about dresses and weddings, formal engagements and parties—I think it’s just a silly innocent fun. Lots of dragons are very into learning about humanity, even if they don’t want to be a part of it." My grandfather patted at another chair next to him, urging me to sit down. "If I think there is something dangerous about her, I will tell you. For now, just keep your guard up, always. I don’t think anything is wrong with her, but well…you’re the spirit dragon, you may have better instincts about this than I. I will keep my eyes peeled for you, if that will make you feel better. Okay?"

  I sighed and reluctantly gave him a grin. He patted the chair again when I hadn’t budged and this time I laughed and sat down.

  He leaned over to put a worn palm on each side of my face and looked deep into my eyes with his gray ones, sharp and bright for such an ancient soul. "You, my dear Leorah, I will always watch out for you and I will do everything I can to keep you from harm. Okay?"

  I melted under his words. My frown softened into a grin, and I reached u
p to place my hands over his and gave them a light squeeze. "Okay, Grandfather." His words relieved me for now. I clapped my hands together, determined to get the taste of suspicion out of my mouth and pointed towards his computer screen.

  "Facebook huh? Still wanna do it?"

  My grandfather smiled wide like a child being handed a plateful of cake to eat. "Oh good, I’m excited!" He turned to his screen and his expression went blank. "Where do I go now?"

  I laughed and leaned over him to type the correct address and move the mouse around for him. He clapped excitedly. He really was one of a kind.

  Awhile later my grandfather was content with his 'profile' and was now giggling along with his 'farming' on whatever stupid game he was playing now and even though I kept trying to inch out the door he insisted that I stay for a while in case he needed my help. So far, he hadn't but I think he just wanted the company. Things at the Court were pretty slow right now, he had told me, and there was little need for Elder expertise. Supposedly that's what he'd been told. He assumed, though, that everyone just thought he was getting too old and needed a 'rest'. He’d had to mediate a weather issue. One blue dragon was using her magic to over water her potato crops, and it was blocking another yellow dragon from the sun. The combined magic ended up in a massive thunderstorm that damaged several others’ fields and there was…chaos. Dragons, not surprisingly have nasty tempers. Including my grandfather who used his light magic to level both their fields—the yellow and blue dragons' respectively—calling them "Impudent children that need to be taught a lesson." He assumed the King and Queen were having him take it easier from his Court duties for a bit until the whole debacle could be forgotten.

  So I remained for a while to help alleviate my grandfather's boredom; I had told Kit that I'd more than likely be gone a couple of days, anyway. I sat now, cross-legged "Indian" style atop my grandfather's red velvet plush bed, leaning over one of the vintage TV Guide magazines he hoarded by the truck load. He, like me, had a certain interest in human culture and TV of course was a good representation on that. This issue was from the 1960s and it was discussing the new sci-fi show that was all the rage: Star Trek. Of course. In the middle of my page flipping I grabbed my phone from beside me on the bed to check the time: nearly midnight in Minnesota on Earth. I wrinkled my nose and tossed it back down, hoping it was accurate. Since time moved differently somehow in Anarach I had no way to be sure if it was. For a while it would be then all of a sudden jump ahead a day or two. Cell towers obviously had a hard time reaching here, even with the towers my grandfather had put in.

  "Aleron?" came a voice from on the other side of the door, followed by a series of three firm, loud knocks.

  I tried to—rather unsuccessfully—to stifle an irritated groan as my mother pushed open the door and entered the bedchambers.

  Normally in her dragon form she was a rather plain, unassuming yellow color but as a human she was severe and harsh in appearance. But, maybe she wasn’t really that bad. Perhaps I was biased by my disgust for her, though. It was entirely mutual.

  Her blue eyes fell on me and she didn't even bother to hide her scorn. "Oh, you are here. I didn't think you would be; it's been too soon between visits. I think we last saw you...six months ago?" My mother, Miradoste, didn't hide her displeasure with me in her surly expression. She was unassumingly beautiful with long, straight, straw-colored hair and light blue eyes that upturned slightly at the corners in an almond-like shape. Her eyebrows were formed in a permanent sneer, starting at the bridge of her nose and raising so slightly as they grew outward. They almost looked manicured that way but, Miradoste believed that vanity was for humans so, they most certainly were not. Her mouth was angular with a severe Cupid's bow on her top lip making her appear to scowl constantly. If you looked up Resting Bitch Face in the dictionary, there should be a picture of my mother in her human form in the entry. But, she had a classic Scarlett O'Hara type glamour that was enduring—to everyone else. To me, she was just a royal bitch.

  "Wonderful to see you too, Mother dear," I sneered, offering her a sickly sweet smile.

  "Miradoste, we had no idea you were home," My grandfather added.

  She scoffed. "Oh come off it. Normally I wouldn’t care, but you have a friend here that's bothering our nightly meal. He assured me you were here and... I guess you are."

  "Friend?" I raised a brow. I didn't have any friends here.

  "Yes, I know. Shocking, isn't it? It's that...invalid green fellow...Maxer or Max," she said, with a large roll of her eyes.

  "Maxxus," I corrected. "And he's not just my friend but Grandfather's protégé, remember?" I glanced at Grandfather whose expression was overall blank, watching my mother speak. He forced a smile then before he spoke.

  "Yes, Maxxus. And I'll ask you kindly to not refer to him as an invalid. He's just as capable of making magic as any other dragon, you know. It just took a bit more effort," he explained.

  My mother let out a groan of disdain. "Yes yes yes, I know. Good thing the Guard doesn't require magic proficiency; he's lucky you vouched for him so he could attain that position."

  My grandfather, who had endless patience, did not enjoy anyone speaking ill of anyone who couldn't help who they were. He stroked his beard and spoke, very calmly and with purpose. "Maxxus earned that position because he is good at what he does. My helping him or not does not matter; every dragon that tries for a position in the court must be sponsored by another, and you know that, before they can be accepted. But he wouldn’t have gotten that position, regardless, if he couldn't do the job."

  My mother heaved an irritated sigh. "Whatever. Leorah, please tend to him rather quickly, so the rest of your family can get to their dinner in peace, shall we? He's in the foyer." She turned on her heels so quickly, her draped blue robes thwacked lightly against the door frame as she left.

  My grandfather snorted at her departure. "Thank you, my dear for calling us for dinner!" He called after her and we exchanged a laugh and a snort. "Why would Maxxus be here for you?"

  I shrugged. "Not sure. I had asked him a question but it's nothing that couldn't have waited until tomorrow." I slid off the side of the bed and my bare feet hit the cold, stone floor with a slight smack. "Yeouch, you need a rug Gramps!"

  He chuckled. "I'll put that on the agenda. Right after the dinner we weren't invited to."

  We chatted on the way to the foyer and met Maxxus as he stood at the bottom of the stairs, awaiting our arrival. "Elder," he said, offering a slight bow of his head upon seeing my grandfather.

  My grandfather clapped him on the shoulder and offered him a wide smile. "Maxxus, so good to see you. Guard treating you well, I gather?"

  He nodded. "Oh yes. It's a very good job. Just a little slow right now," he added with a slight laugh, turning to me. "That's why I'm here; I hope you can help me."

  I shrugged. "I'll see what I can do, I think."

  My grandfather smiled and patted us both on the back before taking his leave. "I hope you'll join us for dinner, Baron Maxxus!" he called back, as he made his way to the dining area off the hallway to the west. He said this loudly enough, knowing his voice would echo down the corridor and irritate my family. I snickered, faintly hearing a groan in reply from the dining area.

  I suppressed a laugh and turned to Maxxus. "What can I help you with?"

  He half-smiled, rather sheepishly. "Um, your phone. I was hoping you could help me get one."

  I raised a brow at him. "Really? You want a phone?" As I said earlier, most dragons had no use for technology so this was surprising.

  "Yes. One like yours that plays the...plays the shows," he said.

  I chuckled. "Ah yes. Well, I think I can help you with that." I motioned for him to follow me up the stairs. He had to be careful in his step to not surpass me up the stairs with his long legs and once again I felt inadequate in my unusual form.

  Maxxus miss-stepped and actually bumped into my back while I reached the top stair; he had to take a step back to avoi
d clobbering me. "Oh, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, grabbing my waist with his large hands and righting me again before I could stumble backwards.

  I turned to look over my shoulder at him and suddenly felt dizzy as my vision blurred. I saw nothing but white, and a hazy pair of ocean blue eyes. Just as soon as I spaced out, I came back to reality, shaking myself slightly.

  "Are you okay?" he questioned, with concern in his eyes. My gaze lingered on them momentarily, suddenly and strangely dazed again. But my mouth turned up slightly upon seeing his eyes clearly. "You have…very nice eyes."

  Maxxus appeared affronted, a slight flush washing over his high cheekbones. "Thanks," he just said, biting his lip. "You sure you are okay?" He held his hands on my sides for a bit longer than was permissible, probably assuming I'd fall again so I said, pointedly, "I'm good now."

  He quickly pulled his hands away, blushing. "Oh sorry. I just...was afraid you were going to fall."

  I waved him off. "It’s okay. It’s just…stress I suppose." We exchanged a knowing glance; we’d exchanged stories of familial strife before many times at the portal.

  "I totally understand."

  I nodded down the hallway. "This way."

  "To your chambers?" he asked hesitantly.

  "Yeah. Why, is that weird?" I asked, eyeing him oddly.

  "No not really. I mean, it's always weird being in a girl's room," he said with an embarrassed chuckle.

  I laughed. "Surely you've been in plenty of girls' rooms." I scanned his broad shouldered, tall form as he ran his hands through his wavy ginger hair, trying to get the front to stick behind his ears. "Strapping thing like you? Surely been in a lot of girls' rooms."

  He laughed shortly. "Not even close."

  "Really? I guess these dragons over here are more stupid than I thought." I left it at that and led him down the tapestry-covered hallway to my room.

  You could tell it was my room because I had painted the door in all rainbow colors. My mother had tried to paint over it but, I had used spelled paint, given to me by the Brownies in the forest. Where they acquired it—I had no idea, and I didn’t ask. All I know is it drove my mother nuts that she could not properly cover the door. The Brownies and I appreciated a good, spiteful prank.