Page 306 of Scorching the Alien Empire
They come unbidden—Elder Ignixis’s words, whispered not from memory, but from some burning place in me I didn’t know existed. They rise like smoke from a sacred fire, curling out of my throat with terrifying certainty.
I amlost. Lost to the rhythm, to the chanting, to the psychotic murder smoke curling through my thoughts like fog at a rave. My voice sharpens, slicing through the air—fanatical, euphoric, uncontainable.
“Let their screams praise his name! Let their blood stoke his flames. You are his chosen instruments—his fury made flesh! Leave no bone unbroken, no soul unscorched!”
My hands move before I can think—divine shields erupt into the sky, a choir of radiant runes forming a shimmering lattice of power. Blue sunlight dances across the symbols, each one humming with holy importance.
What does it mean?
I don’t know.
But Dracoth laughs.
Then his hand rises—and from it bursts a molten sun, raw and radiant, wreathing my shields like an eclipse of celestial fire. The sky splits with light, runes refracting the flames like a living furnace. I gasp. So do hundreds of thousands.
The message burns itself into the heavens.
The Cycle Burns Eternal.
Klendathians slam fists to their chests, their eyes ablaze with pride. Armxians collapse to their knees, arms raised in trembling reverence. Even the Smurfs—those blueberry-headed cynics—mutter what might be prayers or OSHA complaints.
Then—it begins.
The most perfect sound in the entire Dracie-Lexie-verse:
“Divine Daughter!”
It starts as a murmur. Then a chant. Then an ocean—thunderous, endless, drenching me in a tide of worship.
My breath shatters. My eyes squeeze shut, and goosebumps erupt over every inch of my skin. The chant washes through me like starlight, like Cristal Rosé through glass.
I should feel shame. Or restraint. Or humility.
I don’t. Not the tiniest bit.
This israpture. This isbelonging.
This iseverything.
“Am I not divine?” I whisper. “Am I not glorious? Am I not beautiful?” I laugh—a sound that peals from me wild and bright, half ecstasy, half unholy sermon.
“Divine Daughter!”
Are you watching, Divine Mother? Divine Father? Are you proud of me? Did I do good?
I laugh again, and this time it breaks into something almost too big to contain. My eyes shimmer with unshed tears—not sorrow, but the purest joy I’ve ever known. A truth so sharp and sacred it bleeds.
I was made forthis. For this moment. For this bond.
No doubt. No fear.
Onlylove.
Onlypower.
Onlyus.
My Red Dragon—together, forever.
