Page 59 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)
“Their names,” Itta said, her voice a reverent whisper. She gestured toward the first dragon on the left. “Vernithia, and beside her, her rider, Dorn.”
Arenna brushed her fingers along the base of the dragon’s stone form, her gaze drawn to the tomb of a male warrior.
His ears were wickedly sharp, a blade clutched tightly in his right hand.
Though made entirely of stone, his cape appeared to billow behind him as if caught in an unseen wind.
“It’s amazing how one could achieve such fine detail in stone. ”
Itta hummed in agreement. “This crypt stretches on for miles. It would take at least a full day to reach the last memorial. All dragons and royal riders are laid to rest here, forever remembered in stone.”
They walked in silence for many minutes, passing by dozens of dragons and their riders. A heaviness settled in the room, intensifying with each breath Arenna took. “Kayson’s ancestors did this?” she asked, her fingers tracing the intricate carvings of various statues.
“Yes. The Fae and Draka were very close. And when they fell . . .” Itta’s throat bobbed, her voice thick with emotion.
“When they fell, the world seemed to fall too.” The profound pain in Itta’s heart radiated through the air, enveloping the room in a heavy silence.
“Do you know how rare your gift is, Firewielder?”
Arenna bit back a snort. “These days, it feels more like a curse than anything else.”
Itta gave a closed-lip, soft smile. “There was only one before you who wielded fire.” She pointed toward a stone monument as they stopped in front of it. She ran a hand along the inscription and said, “Princess Kenia, and her dragon Oviuss.”
Her magic vibrated beneath her skin, dancing wildly in the thick of her belly like it recognized the power of Kenia and Oviuss. “What happened to them?”
Hurt flashed in Itta’s wrinkled eyes. “They were killed in the First War , slain by the First King of Brookworth.”
Itta wrapped a hand around Arenna’s. “ In ancient times of dragons’ flight, a princess born with fire’s light, brave and bold, in legends lost, the tale retold.
When Draka falls to sorcerer’s spite, she vows to bring back day from night.
With flames anew, she’d rise once more, to lead her kin and dragons soar . ”
Arenna watched the alchemist, her heart beating in an unhealthy rhythm.
“That’s a song that used to be sung by young Draka. It seemed innocent enough that children learned and recited it, but many believed it was a prophecy.”
“And you believe in it now? That Kenia will return again?”
Itta shook her head. “No, I do not believe that Kenia will return. But I believe that her power has.”
Blood drained from Arenna’s face.
“Your power is very rare, my dear. Very rare indeed,” she said.
“When the prophecy revealed itself only one-hundred years or so later, our kind dreamt of the day your power would return.” Itta raised the torch to Kenia’s slender face.
She seemed so young, so fierce. Even in this tomb, she looked strong, wild.
Arenna could imagine her eyes, her slick braided hair.
If Kenia was this beautiful in stone, she could only imagine what the dragon rider truly looked like.
“Over the years, Wind, Water, and even Earth have passed on.”
A chill crept down her spine. There were others who possessed elemental power? Others who filled the role of the prophecy?
“I know what you’re thinking,” Itta murmured.
Arenna had a strange feeling she really did know.
“There were other elementalists, yes. But never born in the right regions, the right direction. It is very specific, that art on stone is. Earth from the south, Wind from the west, Water in the north—” the alchemist turned toward Arenna, “—and Fire from the east.”
Arenna met the female’s stare. “I am from the north, Itta.”
Itta again smiled so softly it made Arenna feel uneasy. “And yet, you are the first Firewielder our kind has seen since the first years of this continent. You are the reason there is such hope in these lands.”
She breathed deeply. She didn’t want to be this hope.
The weight of the world rested upon her shoulders, and she could barely make it through a day without reminding herself what she lived through.
What she escaped. “This . . . this is all a lot of pressure.” Arenna ran a hand down her arm.
“Sometimes I don’t feel I am the right person for such a large task.
” It stayed quiet for many heartbeats. “Why did you bring me here?”
“There is fire in your eyes, Arenna. And I think you need to understand exactly what you mean to this kingdom. To the world.”
“You’re the second to have told me that.” Her throat clogged, the memories of Lord Bishop gnawing at her heart. “But he was not a good man, and I fear he did not mean it kindly.”
Itta’s warm hand gripped Arenna’s bicep.
The look in her eyes was so loving, so tender.
“I see a fire in your eyes that matches the flames in your fingers. And I think this place might be good for you, should you allow it. Embrace this kingdom, its kind, and you might find that fire fueled rather than snuffed.”
* * *
Arenna struggled to fall asleep that night, her mind unable to relax from the mountains of information and questions she had. But when her eyes did drift and sleep called her, the hallucinations began again.
That night, she dreamed of a pair of cat-like eyes, green and glowing and taunting, staring back at her.