Page 45 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
The gray wulfkin approached next, his movements less graceful but no less lethal. “The question remains—is this transformation the result of humans taking monsters as mates in the past? Your kind has been stealing our essence through such unions for generations and look what it did to us. That wasn’t enough, so you’ve taken and killed our omegas. How canyoube the answer to our troubles?”
Anger flashed through Sora at his accusatory tone. “I didn’t choose any of this,” she replied steadily, gesturing to the crystal powered 3D map. “Not death on Earth, not awakening here, not these scales or this destiny everyone keeps thrusting upon me. If you want to discuss bloodline theft, perhaps start with how Celestoria harvests omega essence rather than accusing me of crimes committed centuries before my birth.”
A stunned silence followed her outburst. Then, surprisingly, the wulfkin’s stern expression cracked into a toothy grin.
“She has fire,” he announced, turning to Ignis. “I approve.”
The fae with emerald wings laughed, the sound like silver bells. “Thornel approves of someone? Mark this day in the historical records.”
Tension in the chamber eased slightly as a ripple of amusement passed through the gathered representatives. Ignis’s hand pressed reassuringly against her back, and she felt a flicker of pride emanate from him.
“The Luna speaks truth,” Zalaya announced, her wings rustling as she descended to join the gathering. “The joining of bloodlines was once celebrated across Artania—sacred unions that strengthened all species. Before Celestoria’s kings perverted natural order, turning partnership into theft, balance into dominance. They are therealenemy, not Sora.”
Nylrion inclined his head. “Cythralis remembers. Our archives hold records of the First Age, when elven deltas bound themselves to human mates, creating bloodlines of seers and mages.”
“As do the Veil Kingdoms,” the emerald-winged fae added. “Tor’Vasha’s histories speak of human-fae unions that birthed dreamweavers—those who saw futures and pasts in dreams.” She performed an elegant gesture with her hand, and tiny lights danced from her fingertips. “It was a joyous time. We’d welcomed many humans—along with other monsters—within our territory then.”
The silver felynx stepped forward. “Zhyr’kai’s oldest songs tell of feline-blooded humans who ran alongside our hunters, their shared senses creating unparalleled tracking teams.”
“And Ilunthar’s moon-howls still name the humans who’d joined the many packs of our ancestors,” Thornel added gruffly. “Blood-siblings who carried the strength of the pack within their veins and birthed vinedancers—those who spoke to the plants and helped create our treehuts.”
Sora absorbed this information, cataloging each detail—it was odd that each species had their own variety of mages born within their bloodlines. The puzzle pieces of Artania’s fractured societies began shifting into a more coherent pattern.
Humans were welcomed in the monster kingdoms, and the Moon Goddess had gifted each union with an ability to carry their weight as they lived amongst them.
“The Celestorian royal family fears what these unions represented,” she said slowly. “Not just the potential power of combined bloodlines, but the unity between species they symbolized. Pure humans, no matter their hierarchy, were slowly becoming the weakest species on Artania.”
“Precisely,” Ignis confirmed. “A divided Artania is easier to control. The human kingdoms once stood alongside monster realms as equals—for we all are the Moon Goddess’s children. Their campaign against omegas wasn’t merely about preventing magical bloodlines—it was about severing the connections between our peoples and weakening us.”
The violet-eyed elf nodded. “We call it the Great Sundering in our histories. When human fear was weaponized by ambitious rulers to consolidate power. Their wish is to be the only species on Artania.”
The chamber grew quiet as the weight of shared history settled over the gathering. Sora was starting to wonder if all the tales of monsters on Earth held some truth. That monsters had once roamed—perhaps in secret—but were slowly hunted until they were no more. How else could one explain why dragons, fae, and similar creatures kept reappearing in history from all edges of Earth, when civilizations had no connection with one another?
There had to be a connection. Perhaps even a realm gate—either forgotten or well-protected—that allowed beings from both worlds to cross freely.
That would explain how Artania’s monsters are commonly known on Earth—even though most believe they were fables and fiction.
There was a great significance of this moment—representatives from five different species standing together, unified for perhaps the first time in generations. She needed to make sure this wasn’t a one-time thing, and that the Dralux clan’s neighbors would become a strong alliance once again.
“Why have you come?” Sora asked finally, looking from one delegation to another. “What do you hope to gain from meeting me?”
The androgynous fae floated closer, rose-gold wings catching the light. “Hope,” they stated simply. “The prophecy speaks of thirteen Lunas who will restore balance to our realm. You are the first—fire-bringer, mate to the last pure dragon king.”
Heat rushed to Sora’s cheeks at the casual reference to her supposed destiny with Ignis. She resisted the urge to look at him—feeling his gaze on her as his wing and tail still surrounded her.
“We need to know if you are truly what was promised,” Nylrion added, his silver gaze penetrating. “If your arrival marks the beginning of Artania’s healing, or merely another false dawn.”
“I don’t have all the answers,” she admitted, meeting his gaze steadily. “I’m still learning what this world is, what I am within it. But I know enough about history—Earth’s and now Artania’s—to recognize patterns of oppression and resistance.”
She moved toward the crystal table, studying the glowing map of Artania’s fractured kingdoms, instantly missing Ignis’s warmth and silent protection. Her finger traced the borders between territories.
“These divisions aren’t natural,” she continued, confidence growing as she applied her unique perspective. “They’re engineered through fear and maintained through violence. The prophecy might have chosen me for reasons I don’t fully understand, but I recognize injustice when I see it.”
The representatives exchanged glances, silently nodding to each other, humming in agreement.
“She speaks with the clarity of one who sees from outside our ancient grudges,” the emerald-winged fae observed. “Perhaps that is precisely why the Moon Goddess chose souls from beyond our world.”
Thorntooth growled his agreement. “Fresh eyes see old wounds without centuries of pain clouding judgment.”
