บททั้งหมดของ Redemption of The Dragon Prince: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

[Primus] Melis looks smug, her hands on her hips, so sure that she is correct in her assumptions. "So what is it going to be," she demands, tapping her foot. "Are you going to do what I say, or do I tell the constable who you are and collect the reward," Meris raises an eyebrow, and I almost believe that she'd be willing to turn me in, just to prove a point. The thing is, I doubt she has any proof, regardless of what she says. Maybe she suspects something after the other morning when she was outside my room, but I've been careful not to leave a trace, not a single scale or a claw mark on the furniture -nothing to raise her suspicions when she enters my room to clean it. Something else is going on here. She must need to believe this impossible thing is true for some reason. It's funny that in her childish fantasies that I am a missing prince who can save her from her troubles, she guessed the truth. As Leon, I am nothing like I am as Primus. I spent decades refining this form, makin

[Primus]Standing underneath the bright blue streetlight on the sloped street behind me is Melis in her tattered clothing, a torch clutched tightly in her hand. “I said leave him alone,” her voice rings out, loud enough to wake the dead. Or to scare them. The bodies surrounding me scatter back, reaching for the edges of the shadows and safety. The afflicted aren’t really dead, or at least, they never officially died. But they also aren’t what I’d call alive anymore, not really. The transformation that overtakes them steals their inhibitions and their pain, but amplifies their needs and wants to a point of madness. First, their bodies sicken with a fever that burns so hot their body becomes covered with blisters. When the sickness ends, they rise from their illness, their bodies slowly rotting. But because they do not feel pain in the same way as before, they rise stronger, and far less careful. There is only one exception to their lack of caution--fire. For the afflicted, it is a ba

[Carnelia] I can barely contain a shiver as I think of the possibilities. Nobody talks about what would happen if I were to open the void and lose control. Would everything die, like when my darkness is unleashed and sucks the souls of those it encounters, or would everything just cease to exist? Would we even realize anything had happened? I've considered asking the Grand Magus, but I know that if I voice my concerns too strongly, she'll see through my very carefully applied mask, the one that shows Rakasha the face of a true believer instead of the skeptic and that I am. Maybe if I had been raised as a sun dragon, I'd have more dedication to their cause. But I didn't grow up indoctrinated in their ways. I didn't even know I was a dragon until I met Primus. I want to ask, "Am I doing the right thing?" as I place my hand on the black dot. "What if I kill us all because you were wrong? What if I'm not your savior, but your destruction?" "Aka'naha," the Grand Magus takes the bowl fr

[Primus] Something strange happened on that beach, something I can’t quite explain because I don’t understand it completely myself. As I knelt in a defensive crouch, the humans encircled my location, the collar shining dully in their hands. I was still trying to play human, to get them to see reason, but my words fell around us like stones to be washed by the waves--meaningless and dull. "You are mistaken about me," I insist. "You guys know me. I was headed to join the crew when I came upon poor Melis. She was attacked by the stricken and... "Cut the crap, dragon," Remi, the first mate of the Merriweather, interrupts me. "I saw you at the tavern." The tavern, where I cut the innkeeper to ribbons to save his daughter from his abuse. "I don't know what you think you saw," I laugh, "But I'm just a minstrel." "Well then, if you're a minstrel, this won't matter," he holds up the collar. "These collars don't work on humans, only dragons, as I am sure you are aware, Primus since your b

[Carnelia]I felt the cold of the void behind me as I lay in bed, dreaming of my husband.And yet, as I opened my eyes, I felt a warm touch on my cheek and the deep, earthy scent of him so strong that I was sure I must still be dreaming.Turning towards the warmth and the delicious scent of crushed leaves and pine, I blinked my eyes up to see an impossibility.Primus, my husband and mate, is standing next to me."Am I still asleep," I croak as he places his palm more firmly on my cheek."If you are sleeping, so am I. Do you mind if this is a dream? He asks, the curve of his smile outlined with the warm flickering gaslight in my room. It is so much like our home in Ridgewood, the way the light bounces off the walls, that I wish we could be there right now, curled up together. Or even the castle in Emerald Cove, where we made love on every surface."Please tell me you're real," he kneels inside the nest I've created in the corner. It is cushioned like a bed but far larger, ready to accom