CHAPTER 3
1410 Words
Dudum. Dudum. Dudum.
Seraphine opened her eyes.
She sat up at once, breathing hard. For a few seconds, she couldn’t tell where she was. All she could remember was falling.
She could still see the cliff and Draven standing above her.
Rosalind’s voice echoed in her head.
“Die.”
Seraphine pressed a hand against her chest and took another breath. She shut her eyes for a moment.
“I’m alive,” she whispered to herself.
She touched her stomach first, then her ribs. Finally, her neck. She expected to feel blood, a wound, or something, but there was nothing.
Her skin was smooth; nothing hurt. She stared at her hands, unable to understand what was happening.
“Today,” a deep voice said, one she knew better than her own, “each of you shall claim your dragon.”
Seraphine looked up, her eyes searching for the man who had spoken. She knew that voice; it was her father’s.
She had heard him speak those same words once before, on the day everything began, the day she claimed her dragon.
Later, he had placed the Dragon Crown on her head while the entire kingdom watched. She looked up, and the Dragon Arena stood before her.
Thousands of people filled the stands.
Banners fluttered above them, and dragons waited in the middle of the arena, held back by enchanted chains. Some had red scales. Others were black, gray, or bronze.
Smoke drifted through the air. Seraphine didn’t move; she knew this place and had lived this day before.
One of the dragons threw back its head and breathed fire into the sky. Cheers broke out around the arena, but Seraphine could only stare. No, it couldn’t be.
She knew this place and had lived this day before. Today was the Dragon Claiming. She looked around the arena. The dragons were still there. The crowd filled the stands. The banners hung from the stone walls just as she remembered.
Nothing had changed, and she remembered every part of it.
“I’m… back,” she whispered.
“These are today’s survivors!” the king announced, his voice carrying across the arena. Behind him, five dragons stood in heavy chains. Burns and fresh wounds marked their bodies; a few looked so exhausted they could barely stay on their feet.
“Choose your dragon. Three months from now, the dragon that wins the Trials will name its rider the next Dragon Lord.”
The crowd burst into cheers, but Seraphine hardly noticed. She found herself walking toward the claiming circle before she even realized she had moved.
She had walked this path before; she remembered every step.
The last time, she had crossed this same stone with nothing but excitement in her heart. She had no idea what the future was waiting to take from her.
Rosalind walked beside her. For the first time since waking up, Seraphine really looked at her stepsister.
Nothing about Rosalind had changed. The same golden hair and gentle smile. She looked exactly as she had that day, and then she spoke
“Sister.” Rosalind smiled at her. “You’ve always been so generous. Why don’t you let me choose first?”
Seraphine stopped walking; she remembered those words. Last time, Rosalind hadn’t said them. Before Seraphine could answer, Rosalind walked ahead. She lifted her hand and pointed at the crimson dragon straining against its chains.
“I’ll take that one.”
Draven let out a roar. The sound echoed through the arena. Some people flinched while others broke into cheers.
Seraphine didn’t take her eyes off Rosalind; something had changed. Last time, this wasn’t how it happened.
Rosalind never wanted Draven. She chose Zevran without stopping to think. She laughed at Draven and called him weak, broken, and not worth anyone’s time. But this time, she walked straight to him.
Why?
Seraphine frowned; something wasn’t right. Last time, Rosalind wanted nothing to do with Draven.
So why had she chosen him now?
The thought came to her, and she couldn’t shake it.
What if she remembers?
What if she came back too?
What if she already knows who Draven will become?
“Excellent choice, Rosalind,” the king said, his voice carrying across the arena.
“That crimson dragon has great potential. Give him time to recover. Train him well, and one day he’ll become one of the most magnificent dragons in the kingdom.”
Rosalind smiled.
Seraphine caught it this time. It only lasted a second, but it was there. The look in Rosalind’s eyes wasn’t excitement; it was satisfaction.
You really came back, Rosalind thought. Last time, you took Draven from me. You became Dragon Lord while everyone looked at you like you were special. I’m the one choosing him now. You’ll watch me take everything that was yours just like I watched you.
Rosalind looked at her and smiled again, as if she hadn’t thought any of it.
“You won’t fight me over him, will you, Seraphine?” she asked. “You’ve always been the bigger person.”
For a moment, Seraphine almost laughed. Rosalind had no idea what she had just done. She thought choosing Draven was enough, but it wasn’t.
She didn’t know how much it had taken to keep him alive. She didn’t know how many nights Seraphine had stayed beside him or how much she had sacrificed before anyone saw the dragon he would become. She doesn’t know how much of herself she gave before he became the strongest dragon in the clan.
Without her, none of that would have happened, and Draven wouldn’t have become powerful on his own.
She’ll find out soon enough, Seraphine thought.
She looked at Rosalind and smiled.
“If you want him, sister,” she said quietly, “he’s yours.”
Rosalind blinked.
She had been expecting an argument.
Instead, Seraphine turned and walked away.
I wasn’t going to choose him anyway, Seraphine thought, not this time.
For the first time since opening her eyes, she felt a little lighter.
The black dragon stood by himself at the edge of the claiming circle. Most of the crowd had already forgotten about him. Their attention stayed on Rosalind and the crimson dragon she had proudly claimed.
Laughter spread through the stands when people looked at the black dragon. His scales were dull, one of his wings hung lower than the other, and he looked as though he had long since given up fighting for anyone’s attention.
“Worthless!” someone shouted; more voices joined in, followed by laughter.
Seraphine kept walking. The closer she got, the more she felt that something wasn’t right. The dragon was watching her like an injured animal; it was watching her like someone who had been waiting for her.
The dragon looked at her. His eyes were gold. They were bright, not dull like the eyes of an injured dragon. He didn’t look frightened or defeated; he looked at her as if he knew who she was.
Seraphine frowned. For a moment, neither of them moved, then she lifted her hand and rested it against his scarred scales.
“I choose this black dragon.”
The arena went quiet, and the laughter stopped. The people in the stands looked at one another, whispering as they tried to understand what had just happened.
Behind her, Seraphine heard her father draw in a breath, then heard Rosalind laugh.
She thinks I’ve made a mistake, Seraphine thought.
Seraphine kept her hand on the dragon. For the briefest moment, something warm brushed against her wrist. She looked down and saw a faint golden mark flash between her hand and the dragon’s scales. It disappeared so quickly that she wasn’t even sure she’d seen it.
She barely had time to react. Golden light burst from beneath her hand and swept across the dragon’s cracked scales. Within seconds, it surrounded his entire body.
The black dragon looked at her, and his golden eyes began to glow.
At the same time, every chain around the claiming circle started to rattle. The entire arena shook, and the noise faded as people looked around in confusion.
Seraphine stayed where she was, her hand still resting against the dragon’s scales, when she heard a voice no one else seemed to hear.
It wasn’t coming from the crowd or the dragons; it was inside her head.
My Queen, I have waited so very long for you to find me again.
- Writer
