Page 191 of Upon Buried Embers
My shoulders shake harshly with sobs, because I know she won’t be getting up, I know she won’t answer Rohan’s pleas.
She can’t.
She’s dead.
“I wasn’t quick enough.” I choke out, holding onto her. Rohan’s head bows, resting against hers, hands full of blood. “I wasn’t quick enough, Rohan.” The guilt makes me feel nauseous. “I felt it. I felt something was wrong and I wasn’t quick enough!”
Rohan takes a moment, but then he stands and comes to sit behind me, his legs on either side as he hauls me back into his trembling body, arms wrapping around me tightly.
I feel selfish. How long has Rohan known her? And here I am, having him comfort me when he’s the one who must be in so much pain.
I try to turn around, try to stop myself from crying, but he holds me tighter, burying his face in my neck. I put my hand in his hair, stroking.
His voice is gruff, pain filled. “It isn’t your fault, but Iwillfind who is doing this. I’ll find them and remove their heads from their bodies.”
A roar sounds overhead, one I recognize, Drogonah.
“He feels it. The loss of one of his own. Though they’re not in the same clan, the dragons of The Glade are natural and wild. Clan dragons have respect for them, and to have one lost…”
And Drogonah lived here with her.
I blink away tears and see Drogonah passing overhead, a stream of fire releasing into the sky, others quickly following, the agony in their roars clear.
We sit in silence for a while, feeling the loss of such a magnificent creature, one who was becoming a mother.
A mother.
“Rohan! You said she had an egg.” As if on cue, a quiet growl comes from ahead, and we both focus on it. When it comes again, I scramble out of Rohan’s arms, and gently lift Frelia’s wing.
I gasp as yellow eyes peek at me, the shell of what must be the egg cracked around him.
“Her baby,” Rohan rasps.
I look at the position of Frelia and her wings. “She protected him.” I sniffle.
Rohan nods, swallowing roughly.
I look back at the little dragon, who is eyeing me and Rohan warily.
“It’s okay,” I say when it crawls back, frightened, and I lift the wing higher, Rohan helping me. “Come on out, we won’t hurt you.”
When it does nothing, Rohan says, “Come.” And tentatively, the little red dragon crawls out from under his mother from the command.
The little dragon looks behind it and a cry follows.
I place the back of my hand to my mouth to stifle my cries as Rohan grabs my other hand and we hold it out for the baby.
He eyes us warily, and then he moves closer to us on wobbly legs, taking a tentative sniff.
When he licks my hand, I can’t help it and I pick him up, holding him to me.
It’s no taller than my knees, but still big for a baby.
“Elf, be careful, babies are unpredictable,” Rohan says softly.
I stare down at the dragon, his little ears twitching, yellow eyes blinking up at me.
I sit back on my knees and turn to Rohan. “He’s in pain.” I sniffle as the dragon hides its face in my neck. “He’s in pain, Rohan, we can’t leave him here.”
