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"But a few escaped the massacre." Her lips curled into a smile. "And Stryek here is the descendant of one of those survivors. Though he and all his kin suffer from a lingering version of that same dark magic."
I thought back to the dozens of broken mounds of gray stone we'd seen on our trek here — the mountain of gray stone in the queen's chambers, and the small mounds in the nursery. I dug my fingers into my palms to fight back the unexpected tears prickling at my eyes.
What kind of monster could kill them all like that?
I'd always thought seeing a dragon — let alone touching one would be a magical, beautiful moment — but this was heartbreaking.
A breeze rustled by, and Stryek let out a huff as he shifted to get more comfortable. Liam tilted his head as he tenderly worked on the dragon's leg.
My heart twisted. In that moment he looked a bit more like the kind Eli I'd first met …
"How?" I asked, voice tight. "Was it a relic?"
"No, we don't think so. Many mages have searched for the cause," Liam bit out as he dipped his hand into a tub of sticky white paste before rubbing it on Stryek's leg. "But after eight hundred years, we still know next to nothing."
Mirrim nodded. "Most dragons start turning to stone by the time they're ten years old. It solidifies their bodies until they aren't able to fly or eat." Mirrim ran her hand down Stryek's foreleg. "Stryek, here, is the first to make it past twenty-two. We thought he might have escaped the curse, but as you can see." She pointed at several marbled gray scales that seemed to have hardened and combined into a single stone plate. "He's starting to turn now."
"Which is why you should leave," Liam snapped.
And the gods forsaken asshole Liam was back.
"You're distracting us, and with everyone else out repairing the wall, it's just Mirrim and I doing the mending. If we can't finish patching the cracks in his skin in time, he won't be able to hunt, which will accelerate the progression of the stone."
I winced and muttered, "Sorry," just as Stryek shook out his wings, then dipped his head toward me. He leaned closer until his snout was mere inches away, and my heart flipped.
Holy hells — my skin buzzed as I slowly reached a hand toward him, extending my korra at the same time.
If a dragon wanted attention, who was I to deny him?
Warmth and a feeling of rightness shot through me as the dragon nuzzled my palm, his scales rough and cool.
I couldn't stop the smile from splitting my face.
Gods — what would this be like if we could talk like the actual dragons and riders of legends?
I forced my attention to his korra and froze. Something was off …
The ribbons of vibrant blue mind essence and rich yellow body essence danced happily as normal … but the red essence of his spirit was completely still. What in the seven hells?!? I concentrated harder and gasped. There were pulsing bonds stretching out in every direction from the spirit essence — thousands of them — each as thin as a thread!
Holy hells!
Bonds between korras showed connections between living things, so some were normal. But thousands?! And Stryek's many bonds stretched out far beyond my sensing range, like a glowing web of which I could only see a piece.
I'd only ever seen that many bonds between creatures that belonged to hives, flocks, and other tight-knit groups. But those bonds were usually thick and glowing.
These, though — these bonds were thin as a thread, and there seemed to be some sort of jagged affliction coating them.
And that wrongness was leaking into Stryek's korra right before my eyes.
Forsaken hells …
Moving on instinct, I reached into my pocket and withdrew my ring. If it could suppress my magic, perhaps it could do the same with this?
Biting my cheek, I pressed it against his cool snout, and immediately a loud buzzing flooded my mind, along with that familiar muting of korra and bonds.
"What — where —"
The crisp, deep voice boomed loudly in my mind, competing with the obnoxious buzzing. I looked up in the physical realm to see those golden eyes staring directly at me, wide with something resembling shock.
