Page 81 of Upon Buried Embers
“Come.” Shaking myself out of it, I follow Rohan, that deep sadness coming to the surface again and I rub my chest.
Drogonah rumbles above somewhere, and other dragons echo it. There’s a thudding noise as a thick fog flows around us.
Why am I even here?
“Remember what I told you.” It’s the only warning I get when he comes to a stop and drags me next to him as four other dragons land around us. “And do not even think about running.”
Five chairs are spread out in a wide circle in the center of charred ground, each adorned with different colored ribbons. Bones that could have been ribs flow further back around and curl above, almost like it wanted to cage something in but stopped midway.
Four figures are seated in the chairs, masks firmly in place, all eyes on our arrival. A single dragon sits at their backs, huffing and chuffing with what sounds like impatience as Rohan moves forward, a hand on the back of my neck.
“Kneel.” I do without hesitation at the harsh command, the ground hard as I land. The snow has melted here, like the warmth of blood flow never stemmed keeps the cold away. “Stay.”
I do as Rohan says, letting my hands rest on my knees, head bowed as I try to stop the trembling in my body. I look at Rohan’s chair to try and center myself. Black ribbons are woven through it, like ash seeping from burned bones that make up the seat. Dragon’s teeth curl around the four legs at the bottom, stabbed into the ground, and the size of them makes me swallow nervously.
Definitely bigger than Drogonah’s.
“Rohan,” someone greets, and I peek up at the male Dragonbond across from him. His tone wasn’t unfriendly, but rough and haggard, like most male Dragorie, I supposed. His chair has two different shades of blue ribbons wrapping around it.
“Varan. You’re well, I see.” Rohan’s tone isn’t friendly, either.
“This year’s harvest has done us well through the winter,” Varan says. “And we have two new members now.” He wavesa hand forward. Two males come and stand beside him, not talking, but their whole bodies shake with fear before they kneel.
Rohan nods. “A great boon.”
“Indeed.” I peek at Varan once more, noticing the slight difference in his bone mask, but after a quick glance, I realize they’re all different in some way, apart from their mouths being uncovered, and are similar to their dragons.
Varan’s mask has two horns sticking straight up from the top, no longer than my hand, and has slash-like gaps at the cheekbones. His brown hair is tied at the back, and multiple braids flow down over his shoulders.
I look toward the white-ribboned chair. Its Dragonbond has a slender mask, its horns curling. A female, her light hair is tied in two ponytails with braids flowing into it, and smaller, more delicate braids are randomly tied in the loose hair hanging to her breasts.
Green is next, yet their mask only covers half of their face, and runs atop their forehead, its horns are short nubs on either side. A wicked scar runs across the uncovered side of his face from the tip of his eyebrow to the bottom of his jaw. His dark hair is in one single braid.
When I look to the red, I quickly lower my gaze as I find his eyes already boring into me. His mask only covers his eyes and nose, the horns curling down and around his face, the tips coming to either side of his jaw. His brown hair is braided from the top of his head into three braids that are tied into one.
“Enough of this useless talk!” Red says, and I flinch at the unexpected outburst.
Rohan tenses, and I feel a coldness come over him. Drogonah shuffles at his back, a deep rumbling sound coming from him in anger.
“Why have you called this meeting, Karag?” Green asks. “Winter is not long to end, we need to prepare for many things in the coming spring.”
“Dragon eggs.” Karag, the red Dragonbond replies, his dragon moving his head around at his back. “They are to be hatched in the spring, what are we doing about it?”
“What do you mean, exactly?” the female asks, the Dragonbond on the white chair. Her Dragon is slender, but the look in her eyes is no less deadly.
“Eggs are going missing, have been for years. We need to protect them.”
“And we shall,” Green says.
“And how are we doing that, Durruk?” Karag demands.
“I’m going to go to The Glade early,” Rohan says. “I’ll keep watch.”
“You are but a man,” Karag fires back.
“I’m a Dragonbond,” Rohan growls, and Drogonah backs it up with his own.
The air thickens around us as I grip the leg of the chair, nerves rising.
