Chapter 14

Stories of the Fallen

After the flight above the clouds, sleeping became impossible.

Not because Evelynn was afraid anymore.

That would have been easier.

The real problem was that her brain kept replaying the feeling of flying through moonlight with a dragon large enough to destroy cities while somehow feeling safer than most humans she’d met.

Deeply concerning.

By morning, she had reached the unpleasant conclusion that Black Citadel was slowly ruining her judgment.

The palace itself seemed oddly calmer too. Servants no longer looked moments away from fainting every time she entered a room, though they still stared when they thought she wasn’t looking. Mostly because rumors had clearly spread after the midnight flight.

Apparently “the human riding the Dragon King through the night sky” counted as shocking political news.

Evelynn personally thought people needed better hobbies.

She spent most of the morning wandering the eastern library trying very hard not to think about Kael. Unfortunately, the palace library contained enough dragon history to trigger at least six separate existential crises before lunch.

The oldest sections sat deep beneath the upper palace inside a circular chamber lined floor-to-ceiling with black shelves and ancient scroll cases. Dragonfire lanterns floated silently overhead, casting warm gold light across carved stone floors.

And somewhere nearby—

someone was snoring.

Evelynn followed the sound around one of the towering shelves until she found an old man asleep in a chair beside a mountain of open books.

At least, she assumed he was a man.

Dragon age was difficult to judge.

Long white hair spilled across dark robes while bronze scales covered both hands resting on his chest. Thin glasses sat crookedly down his nose, and several books had clearly slid onto the floor hours ago without him noticing.

A priest maybe.

Or a librarian who had emotionally given up.

Evelynn carefully picked up one fallen book and placed it back on the table.

The old man’s eyes snapped open immediately.

Sharp gold.

Still dangerous despite the wrinkles.

“You walk loudly,” he muttered.

“You were snoring.”

“I was meditating.”

“Your meditation wheezes.”

The old dragon stared at her for several seconds.

Then unexpectedly laughed.

Not loudly.

Just enough to sound rusty from disuse.

“You must be the human.”

Evelynn leaned against the shelf nearby. “Apparently I’m becoming very famous around here.”

“Yes,” the old man sighed tiredly, “and everyone is exhausted about it.”

Fair.

He slowly pushed himself upright in the chair, studying her more carefully now.

“You have the king’s scent on you.”

Evelynn nearly choked on air. “I’m sorry, what?”

The old priest looked confused by her reaction. “You flew with him.”

“…do dragons hear themselves when speaking?”

Another tired laugh escaped him.

“Sit down, child.”

Evelynn hesitated before taking the chair opposite him. The old dragon began stacking scattered books together with slow careful movements.

“Who are you exactly?”

“High Priest Malek.”

That sounded important.

Also ancient.

Malek noticed her staring at the books. “You are looking for answers.”

Not a question.

Evelynn looked toward the nearest open page filled with illustrations of dragons wreathed in gold fire.

“I keep finding more questions instead.”

“Welcome to dragon history.”

That, honestly, felt accurate.

Malek adjusted his glasses slightly. “What troubles you most?”

Where to even begin?

The necklace.

The soul bond.

The dragon graveyard beneath the mountain.

Kael nearly setting reality on fire every other day.

Evelynn settled on the simplest answer.

“The stories don’t match.”

Malek went still briefly.

Interesting.

Evelynn leaned forward slightly. “Everything humans know about dragons sounds wrong.”

“Most human history is written by frightened survivors,” Malek replied calmly.

“…that is unfortunately fair.”

The old priest reached toward one of the ancient books beside him and opened it carefully across the table between them.

Inside were paintings.

Old ones.

Far older than the murals beneath the mountain.

The first showed dragons and humans standing together around massive golden fires.

Not war.

Alliance.

Evelynn frowned immediately.

“That’s not possible.”

“According to who?”

“…everyone.”

Malek hummed quietly. “And humans wonder why dragons dislike them.”

He turned another page.

This one showed cities burning beneath dark skies.

War at last.

Humans fighting dragons.

Dragons fighting each other.

Bodies everywhere.

The painting felt disturbingly alive even after centuries.

“The Burning War,” Malek said softly. “Three hundred years ago.”

Evelynn studied the page carefully. “What started it?”

The old priest became quiet for several seconds.

Then answered:

“Love.”

That was not the answer she expected.

Malek watched her reaction carefully before continuing.

“There was once a dragon king who formed a soul resonance with a human woman.”

The room suddenly felt much colder.

Evelynn’s hand unconsciously moved toward the silver necklace beneath her collar.

Malek noticed immediately.

His old eyes sharpened.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

“Their bond frightened both kingdoms,” he continued quietly. “Humans feared dragons gaining influence through bloodlines. Dragons feared weakness.”

Evelynn swallowed slowly.

“And?”

“And frightened people destroy what they do not understand.”

Well.

Humanity remained consistent at least.

Malek turned another page.

This painting had been partially damaged by age and ash, but Evelynn instantly recognized the woman in it.

Silver necklace.

Moon-shaped pendant.

Standing beside a dark dragon crowned in gold fire.

The exact same image she saw beneath the mountain.

Her pulse quickened.

“That woman,” she said carefully. “Who was she?”

Malek looked at the painting for a very long time before answering.

“Her name was Lyriana.”

The name settled strangely in Evelynn’s chest.

“She died during the war?”

The old priest’s expression darkened slightly.

“No.”

Something about that answer felt worse.

Evelynn leaned forward more. “Then what happened?”

Malek closed the book.

Too quickly.

The conversation shifted instantly.

“The dead should sometimes remain buried.”

“That is never a comforting sentence.”

“No,” he admitted quietly. “It rarely is.”

Evelynn stared at the closed book suspiciously. “You know something.”

“I know many things.”

“Helpful.”

Malek ignored the sarcasm easily. Clearly he had dealt with dragons for too long to fear attitude.

Then unexpectedly, he asked:

“Has the king told you what happens when resonance deepens?”

Evelynn immediately frowned. “I’m beginning to suspect nobody in this palace believes in explaining things normally.”

“That would be correct.”

At least the dragons were self-aware.

Malek folded his scaled hands together slowly. “Soul resonance does not simply connect emotion.”

Evelynn’s stomach tightened slightly.

“It connects instinct. Memory. Desire.” His voice lowered. “Sometimes even fate.”

That sounded aggressively unhealthy.

“The bond between dragon and human was once considered sacred.”

“Was?”

Malek’s gaze drifted toward the dark shelves surrounding them.

“Until the last bond destroyed kingdoms.”

Silence settled heavily between them.

Then Evelynn asked the question that had been haunting her since the throne room.

“Kael knew that necklace.”

The old priest’s eyes lifted sharply toward her.

“He reacted the moment he saw it.”

Malek didn’t answer immediately.

Which was answer enough.

Evelynn’s pulse sped up.

“What does my necklace have to do with him?”

The old priest looked suddenly much older than before.

Tired.

Burdened.

Then quietly, almost reluctantly, he said:

“Because the last woman who wore it was loved by a dragon king.”

The library fell silent around them.

Somewhere high above the palace, distant dragon wings thundered through the sky.