ログインNow Primus and Carnelia are back in Crimson. How long will it be until they're back together. More story coming soon...
[Primus] I hadn’t been back home since I left to chase down my mate. Carnelia had rejected me, and in a fit of rage, I went bestial, terrorizing the nearby town of Crimson, the town I protected as part of my Western realm. It had been my responsibility to keep them safe, to help them when they were in need. However, they had also been the source of Carnelia’s inner pain. They had tortured her for countless years, so long they didn’t even remember how long she’d been there. They used her for work, for sex, and for blaming all their sins on. They had broken her and made it impossible for her to love herself enough to welcome the love of others. But that wasn’t the only reason I burned this sick excuse for a town to cinders. I had also been angry at myself. How many times had I wandered through the village disguised as my attendant, Leon, and not done a damn thing about how they treated orphans like my beloved as little better than dirt beneath their feet? I may have even cros
[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.
[Carnelia]Turning slowly, I can feel the burn of eyes watching me from the darkest corner of the room. Somebody has seen me arrive.But who? Did the monks sense my departure and follow me through the void? Did Thalan? I thought moon dragons could only travel short distances, jumping between locati
[Carnelia] “I am no god,” I look from one face to the other. These dragons are asking me to rely on their wisdom and trust their judgment, but their actions and words speak of madness. “I am just a drakaina who misses her mate and wants to go home.” “You might not be a god,” my father admits, “b
[Primus]I should feel grateful, but as the night wears thin, I feel the weight of fear and expectations pressing down on me like a layer of sodden earth. If I am to be buried, let me move the rock and soil beneath us and dig a tunnel to the Solar Kingdom and reclaim my mate. Or even better, let me
[Carnelia]Lifting his finger to his lips, my father signals for me to wait. He must sense that others are listening, waiting to hear what he has to say. But why? Does the Grand Magus suspect the truth and that her earlier behavior was just an act?The room is silent, amplifying the noises around us







