Page 30 of The Last Syphon

Holy Fates.

Fortress was the one and only word to come to mind. High, thick, black stone walls. Towering keeps, fortified right into the palaces. Soldiers dressed in the red-scaled armour of the Arelian Army walked the parapet that connected one structure to the other. Magic hummed in the air, pure and potent. Thousands of smaller dwellings cascaded out from the main palace, teeming with life, but instead of fearing their approach, the people had smiles on their faces. They waved and cheered as they flew overhead, happy to see them.

There were several other Guardians in the air, circling lazily around the palace, their Chosen perched on their backs. Inara eyed them curiously, her hands tightening around the spikes in her palms.

She felt completely out of her element—something that did not happen often. For twenty-seven years, life had always been the same. She knew what to expect. Knew what she had to do to survive. But right now, she had no clue, and it was unsettling as fuck.

The Crowned Prince veered left, heading towards a large open field beside one of the palace walls. Fraener shifted to follow.

Inara ignored the unease hammering in her chest as they landed on the harsh, unforgiving dirt behind Tydus.

People swarmed them, coming in from all directions. They were dressed in different clothing. Some in the Arelian armour. Others in thick, heavy robes like the ones Venerable Cias always wore. And there was some in plain tunics of various colourings.

Fraener snarled, his head whipping from side to side. He bared his teeth in warning, a shot of anger blasting in her chest.

Everyone came to a staggering halt. Inara’s connection with Fraener buzzed brightly in her soul. It was getting easier to differentiate his feelings from her own, to separate his thoughts and emotions. The anxiousness hammering through her body didn’t belong to her.

It belonged to him.

He didn’t like to be surrounded.

“Shhh. Shhh.” Her hand glided across his hard skin in an attempt to soothe him. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

An image pushed its way into her mind. An image of him lighting everyone around them on fire.

Inara chuckled. She liked the way he thought. “Not yet. If they try something, though, go for it.”

He rumbled out a disappointed sound.

The Crowned Prince flung one leg over the side of his dragon and floated down to the ground as if he commanded the air himself.

Inara hoped she could learn that trick.

His companion followed closely behind but had to resort to physically climbing down instead, her hands and booted feet digging into the small divots on the dragon for purchase as she slowly made her way down.

Inara sent her shield ropes away and urged Felix to climb down. He peered over the side of Fraener and gave her a slightly outraged look. She nodded in encouragement. His brown eyes did a quick scan of the field and all the prying, judgemental gazes.

She conjured an image in her mind and sent it to the dragon, one of him lowering himself down to his knees.

It worked.

Fraener shifted to do what she asked without hesitation.

This is so fucking cool.

Inara wondered if she pictured him setting the Crowned Prince on fire, if he would do it.

Heat ran below her.

Her eyes widened. No, no, no! I was just playing!

Disappointment trickled into her mind, and Fraener let out a dissatisfied grumble.

Beware anyone who pissed her off, because her dragon was willing to set them all ablaze without a single thought of the consequences.

Felix shuffled his way off Fraener, his movements slightly shaky, and let out a huge sigh of relief when his feet hit the ground.

Inara dropped down behind him a moment later.