LOGINGet ready for Ona! I am already outlining a potential prequel that focuses on the romance between Ona and Daax, and how they met. He was a pirate pretending to be human, raiding the seas to exact revenge for his ruined kingdom and search for his missing family. She was the daughter of the Empire, the proud general who went on a diplomatic mission that ended with her being kidnapped by Daax, the pirate king, captain of the Dragon's Lament. It's an enemies-to-lovers romance that will show Ona's transformation from loyal daughter of the empire into the leader of the rebellion. Would you all be interested in reading it?
[Carnelia] It is cold at first, not the piercing mind-numbing cold of the void, but something moist and alive, rich with the scents of machine oil, stone, and clay. It reminds me a bit of the caves beneath Ridgewood, where Primus keeps his more primal nest, his resting place when he’s in his bestial form. That space also had the feeling of eyes in every direction, as if the earth itself was watching me with eyes made of gems and crystals. As a door closed above our heads, the craft fell into absolute darkness, and I gasped, holding in the last air in my lungs, as if my body feared this might be my last breath. I have been underground before, running for my life in the tunnels beneath Imperial City, but never before have I felt so much like I was entering a tomb. A hum of energy vibrates around us just before the lights flicker to life above us. I'd never seen lights like these before, and I must have said something because Oaestr, always the teacher, placed her hand on my shoulde
[Carnelia] Oaestr’s cold laughter chases the edges of my consciousness as my vision darkens, and the cold kiss of metal between my scales as it slips from my body, leaving its powerful sedative behind. My body grows impossibly heavy as warm, strong arms catch me, easing my fall. Before I can say the word “stop,” something covers my eyes, enters my mouth, and I feel myself gasping, struggling against the grasping thing slowly entering my throat. “Give her another dose,” Oaestr’s irritated voice sounds far away, as if shouting across a large room. “Her biology is resistant. We need to make sure she won’t wake up until we arrive.” There is no response except for the sting of another needle, this time piercing the meaty flesh of my thigh. Rough hands grab my ankles as my body is twisted and placed inside warm fluid. I would struggle if I could. Gaietians seem to have even less of a moral compass than Terrans do, and Terran containment pods–with their ability to place a dragon in such
[Carnelia]Home. Sitting on the ground, I press my face against the glass window that stretches from ceiling to floor, curving with the spherical shape of the sleeping quarters I’ve been assigned. Looking down at the planet, I press my hand to the smooth, hard wall, my eyes focused on the mass of land just below us as we orbit above. I’ve seen this view so many times before, looking down from my quarters in the Celestial Kingdom. That view is transcendent, the planet below glowing like a green-blue marble with swirling white clouds.This view is darker. The planet is gray, sick, dying. The trees, if there are any, are so thin that the green has shifted to brown and beige. The oceans are clouded by inky smears of brown. Or at least that’s what I can see around the mountains of twisted metal and plastic floating between them and us. Wherever we are, it isn’t home. That is not my Terra. This is not my Celestial Kingdom. The longer I’m away, the harder it is for me to remember what ho
[Primus]The pale drakaina on the other side of the mirror blinks slowly at Orion, her movements delayed and her image shaking, as if it were cast in sand. She’s pale, like a moon dragon with the same dark hair and eyes, with a iridescent scale pattern along her ears, eyes, and horns that looks like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Her features, in our more typical bipedal form, are almost human soft, with full cheeks and soft rosy lips. If it weren’t for the perfection of her more draconic features and the spark of power behind her gaze, I’d make the mistake of thinking she is weak–one of the lesser hybrids with too much humanity bred into them. But as she lifts her long nailed hands, and I see the blue arch of electricity sparking from her fingertips as she reaches for the mirror’s edge, I realize the opposite is true–she’s more powerful than the typical dragon. “Please repeat, your signal is weak,” the drakaina, who had identified herself as Everly, requests, her words undulating b
[Primus]“I’m sorry, Uncle, but I’m going to need to drain you to a point near death,” Kora explains as she sits me on one of the heated pads in a reclined chair in the Lament’s infirmary. “As much as your body can spare. We need three times the volume of fluid in order to make a power crystal large enough to power our mirror.” “We will do everything in our power to keep you alive,” Orion promises. “And if something goes wrong, Atremi is on standby to stabilize your condition. But Kora is right, we’re going to need every drop your body can spare.” In the corner of the room, Atremi sets down his trunk of “tools” right next to the communication mirror Ona brought in from her beachside home. The box, full of advanced Technician tech, was, according to Atremi, found inside an old Solarian ruin in the North, from the days of the Solarian Empire. It was in one of the many buried palaces hidden beneath the sands in the desert between the Capitol, Imperial City, and the Western Mountains.
[Primus] My nephew, sweaty from sleep, deep circles of exhaustion ringing his once bright eyes, steps forward into the room on unstable feet. “I just need a communication mirror and an energy rod. One of the ones used to power a shuttle would be ideal but any small energy source would work–a giant blue crystal, for example.” Ona nods. “Your father and I came down in a shuttle, but it’s…on the other side of the continent,” she frowned. “The Lament has some, but if it’s compromised, we won’t be able to leave Vatra fast enough if we’re found. We can’t risk it. Is there another way?” “Perhaps,” Orion grunts in pain, closing his eyes as he squeezes his fists. Kora rushes forward to help him find a seat, but he shakes his head. “Do you have any synthesized energy cells running Vatra?” My sister frowns. “I’ve never needed them. This place runs on thermal heat and has gas lighting. I’ve never needed energy cells.” She sighs and then adds, “I have a mirror, but it’s been ages since I’ve
[Carnelia] “Who is Primus?” The tall drake’s face twisted towards me, his right eyebrow raised, wrinkling the brow of his black skin, the color of midnight. His eyes, flashing green, remind me of my mate’s, much like the sharp edges of his chin. Much like Oaestr is my mirror copy, features like mi
[Ona] [The Night Before] The message comes through at the end of our solar night, when the artificial light of our kingdom brightens with a false dawn. Here, above Terra, we use solar-powered lights to illuminate an artificial sky. It’s always a perfect spring day here in the Celestial Kingdom. It
[Carnelia] It is impossible to know how long I’ve been waiting here, listening to the ramblings of this “Navigator,” standing on the precipice of a ruined city that she informs me isn’t just on the other side of our known universe, but in a dimension completely different from the one I was born in.
[Ona] My heart is fluttering, unable to calm after seeing my sister beg me for help. The technicians, oblivious to my well-masked shock, begin explaining the situation, unaware of my inner turmoil. It has been months since I've seen Carnelia, and then there she was, standing in my control room, lo