“But its like you said, only my family can use the magic to speak to Lind.” Loren said, some strength returning to her voice. “The pendant will be useless to her.”
Seraphis shook her head. “You weren’t told, I see.”
“Told what?”
“Give me your pendant. No, I will not keep it, you can have your friends have their weapons drawn, even have the huntress keep a knife at my throat. I swear I will not take it, I will only show you what you need to know.”
Loren and Kae exchanged a glance. The boys felt the tension in the air and didn’t dare move. If anything, they leaned further back. Loren nodded, and Kae was quickly on her feet, dagger in hand. The huntress moved to stand behind Seraphis, who dutifully stayed still as she waited for Loren to unhook the clasp of the chain. Gathering the silver dragon in her palm, she slowly laid it in Seraphis’s outstretched hand.
Seraphis kept her arm flat on the table, palm up, and slowly closed her fingers around the silver dragon. She took a breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, her irises were a familiar shimmering gold.
Loren’s gasp was audible. Her hand flew to cover her mouth as she stared into Seraphis’s golden eyes. They were just like her’s, just like her mother’s. The huntress saw the glimpse of gold in Seraphis’s eyes, and was brought back to the castle of Yureun. She saw how Loren moved with grace and ferocity as she dodged and struck out at the beast and its mistress. Kae’s grip on the knife tightened, her knuckles turning white. She pressed the edge of the blade flush against Seraphis’s neck, ready to cut her deep in a second.
“So this is what it feels like.” Seraphis breathed, eyes wide. She slowly looked around the room, senses heightened and gazing in awe. “Magic that doesn’t burn…The eyes of a dragon, gods above, she was right. She was right…”
“Seraphis! Snap out of it.” Loren rose out of her chair. “Explain this! How can you use the pendant?”
Seraphis chuckled, grinning. The dragon magic surged through her, filling her head with dreams of immeasurable power. “You know only the Cyrael line can use this – the bloodline of the Lady Ylfair. It’s impossible for anyone else to use it. Unless…”
“We’re related.” Loren whispered. The color drained from her face at the thought of it; that she was related to Haedria of Sagna, the woman who poisoned her mother, who had Gattur’s skin thrown at her feet, who kidnapped her friend. She was related to a monster. She shook her head and slammed her hands on the table. “That can’t be! Seraphis, what are you hiding?”
“I’m not hiding anything.” Seraphis smiled. “Your line has always been so proud. Have you not noticed that I’ve been calling you “princess” the entire time you’ve been here, but not once have you afforded me the same respect? We’re both princesses, heirs to our thrones, we have our own kingdoms. You proud dragons, flying high above the rest of us.”
“Seraphis!”
“Recall the story of Ylfair the Dragonheart.”
Loren frowned. “She faced the high dragon in the ebonstone castle within Yureun and was granted a dragon egg and dragon magic.”
Seraphis nodded. “She returned to her home, what is now the capital of Markholme, and founded Aldoran. She had two sons.”
“What? No, she only had one. A single heir. His name was Viarous the Brave.”
Seraphis laughed again. “Your line is so ashamed, that they hid their own history. Listen to me, princess. There were two sons of the Dragonheart. One was your ancestor, proud and noble. The other, his brother, was a mage. All their life, the eldest was threatened by his mage brother’s magic. He feared that the throne and dragon magic would be taken from him. He cast his younger brother out from the kingdom, exiling him past the Kilrough mountains. That was when he came across the volcano.”
The warrior princess leaned slightly forward, the skin of her neck being slightly cut by Kae’s steadfast blade. Rivulets of blood flowed from the cut. “The raw elemental power of the mountain called to him. The energy set his soul ablaze, his markings began to burn like coal under his skin.” She rubbed at her own brands, small flickers of flame colored light appearing within them. “He went mad with power and claimed the whole volcano and its surrounding lands of his own. He called it Sagna, his own kingdom, free to be ruled as he saw fit. That was Allorus Dagan, the Mad. My ancestor.”
“I remember that name. The founder of Sagna, yes.” Loren’s expression was grim. “He carved the castle out of the stone of the mountain with his own hands. I didn’t know he was a mage.”
Seraphis nodded. She opened her hand and placed the dragon pendants on the table. As her skin lost contact with the silver, her eyes returned to their original dark color, and she leaned back, dizzy. “He was. The descendants of his that were born with magic had the same madness. This selfishness, cruelty, penchant for flames, and lust for power, they were all the same. Now, my dear sister is the latest mage to take the throne, and nothing has changed. If anything, it’s gotten worse.”
“Princess.” Kae started. She withdrew the dagger from Seraphis’s neck and sheathed it in it’s spot on her belt in one fluid motion. “This is what Danna meant when she said—”
“I have some ‘red’ in me.” Loren completed the sentence. She looked to Seraphis, who nodded.
“The red of Sagna. We’re called the Red Sisters for more than our hair, princess.” The warrior princess said. She rubbed at her temples and sighed. “It’s the blood that runs down my blades, the fires in my sister’s hands, and the magic of
