The black rock beneath us shakes fiercely, so hard that I lose my grip on Zan, and he clings to me desperately.
“Oh shit!” someone screams, and I realize it’s me as Zan desperately tries to grip onto my hand, which is soaked and slippery with sweat.
“He’s separating us!” I yell, although it’s blindingly obvious to anyone that that’s exactly what Ken’s doing.
The two pillars of black lava rock Zan and I stand on split apart completely, and I rock forward as Zan tries to pull me.
“Stop!” I scream. “If you tug me, I might fall in!”
“I would never let you fall in,” he says.
But he does as I ask, letting go, his hand still outstretched toward me, even as our rocks move further apart.
He roars, a terrible sound that makes my heart hurt as he watches the rock I’m on float further away.
He flaps one wing, and I choke on a sob as I watch him try to spread the other out, but he can’t.
“Don’t hurt yourself!” I tell him, doing my best to keep my balance on the moving rock.
Ken appears before us, floating like an impish apparition just out of reach.
I’ve never wanted to commit murder before, and I’m not sure that murdering a hologram would count, but right now I would do anything to be able to do serious harm to Ken.
“You hurt my mate,” I tell him.
“And now we come to the emotional portion of our task.”
I try my hardest not to scream at him and rant and rave and simply bite the insides of my cheeks to keep myself in check.
I’m shaking all over, though, and it’s not from fear. It’s from straight up anger.
And truly, whatever the Draegon hormonal heat poison has going on has taken my whole PMDD rage to the next level.
If Ken thought this magma was hot, it ain’t got nothing on the way I feel inside.
And yet, a small part inside me tells me to wait, to play this smart.
I do my best to keep my balance on the shaky column of rock and keep my focus on Ken, who I know is planning something absolutely fucking vile.
“This portion of today’s entertainment is taken from an old human tradition known as Two Truths and a Lie,” Ken announces.
My breathing gets faster.
“And this will truly test what you have learned about your partner, which, considering the amount of time you’ve spent together, should be very easy… or will it?” he announces dramatically.
As soon as he’s finished speaking, three images appear before me.
The sound from the auditorium’s murder pit cuts off completely as the images begin to flicker to life.
The first image, furthest to the left, is baby Zan, no older than eight or nine. A small child, and what looks to be an army barracks. Well, as close to an army barracks as an alien species with wings can get, I suppose. There’s a high platform, what would almost be a balcony attached to it, except there’s no railing whatsoever.
A full-grown Draegon leads him out onto the platform, ties a blindfold around his eyes, and pushes him off without any warning.
Little Zan free-falls, and I put a hand to my mouth, horrified at the staggering violence of the action.
The image cuts off, and the middle image begins to play.
Zan is slightly older, still blindfolded, assembling what looks to be a rifle of some sort as fast as he can.
