When I spoke with Noralla this morning, it was painfully obvious that she does not want this betrothal any more than I do. The tears in her eyes told me as much before she even opened her mouth. She has no desire to leave the Water Clan’s territory to reside in the desert, just as I do not wish to take a mate I do not love, who does not love me.
The desert winds are strong this day as I extend my wings and slip into the current, leaving the castle and flying over the mesa toward the fields below. I dip low as I reach the river. A cool mist rises from the turbulent water to greet me, winding its way through an obstacle course of sharp rocks jutting up from the riverbed. Extending one limb, I skim the surface as I glide effortlessly over the vast, shimmering surface. My green eyes reflect in the crystalline liquid when I stare down at my draka form.
A deafening roar draws my attention away from my musings and back toward the castle. I shake my head in defiance at my father standing on my balcony, demanding my return.
He does not give pursuit because he lacks the conviction to chase after me. My father is well aware that the Water Princess and I are not fated like he and my mother were. If we were destined, this betrothal would be much simpler.
Though not all bonded pairs are fated to one another, I hoped to recognize the call of the fated bond when Noralla and I met. However, neither of us felt the pull when she arrived a few days ago with her twin brother, Llyr. We each looked down at our chests, searching the spot between our two beating hearts, but the glowing fate bond pattern never appeared.
When fated pairs meet, they recognize a pull to one another upon first sight. Then a glowing pattern emerges on the scales of their chests, directly between their hearts. It is called the fate mark. This is confirmation of the fated bonding, a sign one has found one’s linaya—the fated one. The fate mark can take up to a year to appear, but it is always preceded by a knowing deep within. Noralla and I did not feel this when we saw each other.
Shaking my head, I turn away from the castle, refusing to allow my father’s pleas to change my plans. The desert calls to me. An instinct within my soul fuels my desire to escape across the vast expanse of sand. As if fate is waiting for me within the desert sea, I go eagerly to find it.
The weight of my responsibilities can wait a little longer. I must answer this call. I have always trusted the fire that runs deep in my veins; right now, it leads me away from Noralla and toward the object that fell from the sky. If I find nothing, at least I will have tried.
Once Noralla and I are officially betrothed, I will no longer have the freedom to come and go as I please. I’ll have cycles to spend by Noralla’s side before my parents step down from rule. I need to cherish this final day of freedom before the future closes in around me.
Flapping my wings, I climb up over the steep plateau across the river. The sun’s early rays peek above the horizon, scattering brilliant hues of red, orange, and yellow across the crimson desert sands. As my gaze sweeps the area below, I bank in a long, slow arc to head for the northern edge of our lands, toward Wind Clan territory.
I haven’t patrolled our borders recently. If I’m lucky, Raidyn, Prince of the Wind Clan, will be somewhere nearby. It has been too long since I have had a good fight and he is always willing to oblige me.
As I dip and weave in and out of air currents, my gaze drifts over the endless expanse of the red desert plains. An ocean of sand undulates and flows beneath me like water as wisps of dust and mica sweep across the dunes. Towering rock formations stand proudly against the barren land.
Movement on the distant ground catches my eye, too far away to determine what it is. Dropping in altitude, I glide stealthily over the ground as I approach. I do not wish to scare what I’ve spotted. Not before I’ve had a chance to determine what moves about so freely beneath the bright glare of the sun. Most desert creatures wait until nightfall to emerge from their dens. The fact that this one does not, intrigues me.
I touch down behind a grouping of large boulders and shift into my two-legged form, making sure to remain downwind to avoid detection. My crimson scales easily blend into the sand and rock as I conceal myself in the shadows and creep closer to investigate.
When I peek around a rock, I find the creature kneeling in the sand, facing away. The figure is clothed in strange coverings, with two arms and two legs like mine, but I do not immediately recognize the species. Until I am certain, I do not wish to make my presence known. Judging by the small stature, this could be an adolescent Drakarian or some other race entirely.
My people, the Drakarians, are capable of space travel, but since the Great Plague, we have adopted an isolationist policy, limiting our interactions with outsiders. After all, our Healers believe it was an off-world contagion that swept through our population. Because of this, all commerce with off-worlders takes place on the orbital station above Drakaria. No foreigners are allowed on the surface excepting a few Ambassadors of the Galactic Federation.
The figure leans down and grasps a handful of sand. The motion causes the clothing covering their torso to shift, revealing
