Page 61 of Upon Buried Embers
“Aww, but that’s in four years.”
He ruffles the kid’s hair. “Go on now to your mother.”
Though sullen, he runs off to his mother who eyes me with wariness.
“Watch him for sneaking out to come with us, Maery,” Rohan tells her, and she smiles.
“I shall.”
Whenever we pass someone, they always greet Rohan, asking about his well-being, and he even goes over to some tents and peeks his head in, asking if they need anything.
He seems like a good leader for a barbarian, and takes care of his clan members.
They respect him.
They take anything they want and battle when they like. I haven’t seen anyone hurting another yet, though. Or raping them.
Maybe that comes at nightfall.
It isn’t long before we’re passing Rohan’s home, making our way to the mountain. There’s a large cave looming over me, just like The Pit.
A rumble comes from within, the sound harsh and deadly. When Rohan takes a step inside, I have no choice but to follow him into the dragon’s den.
Seventeen
Elf
Gentle heat envelops me, causing me to sigh in relief from being out of the winter cold. I love the warmth. Having not had it often, I cherish every moment of it.
A rumble seems to echo in bursts which rattles my nerves, but Rohan doesn’t seem to mind. I watch his back, the torches in here softly light the way through the huge space.
“What do you know of the Dragorie?” His question surprises me because I didn’t think he would care what I know. “You can speak freely, I need to know in order to assess.”
Assess what?
“Um… You have your own customs and practices. Your own… rules.”
“Go on.”
“They… You live away from the towns and local villages, away from the city. You take care of the dragons, sworn to protect them under the Dragon Mother, Morana?”
“Correct. Continue.”
I wrack my brain for any information I heard from Master over the years, from when he took me underground.
“I heard dragons are dying?” The air suddenly chills, more bitter than the cold outside.
Rohan doesn’t reply straight away, he keeps walking for a little while before he finally responds.
“The dragons are not dying naturally, they’re being hunted.”
The news startles me, and my eyes widen as I take in this new information.
What? How can that be? For all the Dragorie clans are known for, they’re fierce protectors of dragons. Even the wild ones, only killing them when they have no choice, like the one that attacked us in the forest outside of The Pit.
“Dragons are predators, we’re merely food to them,” he continues. “So for a select few to be able to ride them, and control them to an extent, it has always been a threat in the hierarchy of Dracozar, and something others have always wanted to obtain. This isn’t something that has suddenly occurred, just that more action is being taken against us in recent years.”
“And less dragons, means less of a threat to that hierarchy,” I murmur.
