Page 13 of The Last Syphon

“Oh, hardy, har, har.”

He got up and hobbled over to her. The old man flicked through the book until he found a specific text.

The Chosen shall inherit all the powers of its Guardian so that both may live a long and fruitful life at each other’s side. They will be free from the harsh elements of nature and time itself and bound to protect the kingdom and its people for all eternity.

Inara’s eyes widened. The implications of his words ran rampant in her head. “Are you saying—does that mean”—she pointed to her chest so there would be absolutely no confusion—“I’m immortal?”

“Barring any grave physical injury, you will live as long as your dragon lives. There is a lot of misconception about ‘immortality’ and ‘invincibility’. You can still die. So can your dragon. It might just take several lifespans before that happens.”

Dizziness washed over Inara, and she buried her head into the palm of her hands, trying to keep from passing the fuck out. This was a lot of information to take in all at once—almost too much. Inara knew, of course, how strange it was that the dragon had allowed her to ride on his back, but she’d stupidly assumed it was just his way of trying to apologise for almost burning them to a fucking crisp. Not that the creature had bound them together forever and she was now his rider. His Chosen.

Oh, Fates. As awesome as it all was, Inara felt as though she was going to throw up.

A mind brushed against hers, along with a feeling of concern. Worry.

It was a little disorienting. The sensation was still foreign to her, but it also felt…good. The presence was so strong, so stable. It helped to ground her. Centre her. Decloud her mind.

Inara tried to send a wave of appreciation back, but she had no idea if it worked or not. The whole thing would take a lot of adjusting, and as terrifying as it all was, she also found it to be quite…thrilling. Exciting.

Who wouldn’t be excited at the prospect of being bound to a dragon for life? For. Life. Flying wherever they wanted. Setting whoever made them angry ablaze.

Her head snapped up as a thought streaked through her mind. “Does this mean I can breathe fire?” She gasped in hope.

Venerable Cias thought about it for a moment. “Your soul-link is new. Still in the early stages and weak to start, but the stronger the connection becomes, the more powers you will be able to access. You very well could come to possess such an ability over time.”

This is the best day of my life.

She sat forward eagerly. “What about flying? Can I fly?”

“We are straying from what is truly important about this conversation.” He scolded. Whether or not I can fly is pretty important to me. “Based on your dragon’s markings and his sheer size, I suspect he is One of the Three,” he continued, face turning grim.

“Okay…what is that?”

He settled himself back into his seat and took a deep breath. “Are you aware of the events that caused the Dark War?”

“The king of Tolanaa went mad and killed everyone and everything in his kingdom,” Inara answered automatically.

“That you know.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

Of course she did. Her mother had told her the tale every eve when she put her to bed, trying to make sure she understood the severity of what it meant to be a Syphon.

Venerable Cias urged Inara to continue with nothing but a wave of his hand.

She cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter. “The Cursed King was a Syphon,” she began, trying to ignore the sliver of unease the topic caused. “It is said that is what made him go mad. As a Syphon, he possessed the power to draw energy from not only our magic, but our souls, our life force, and then take it for himself. The effects didn’t last forever, and once the energy disappeared, he would want more. He turned corrupt, consumed with the need for more and more power. He started syphoning from not only his own people, but the land itself.” Inara took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and keep her body from trembling.

She knew exactly what that corruption felt like. That tempting pull to take it all and never stop. To just take and take and take until there was nothing left. It was hard to fight, and even harder to ignore. So hard that Inara only ever used the ability when she most desperately needed it. When she had no choice. When it was a matter of life and death.

“The Cursed King pulled so much magic from the land that it began to die, turning black with rot,” she continued. “That rot spread, destroying everything in its path like a terrible plague. It consumed all of Tolanaa, and that’s why we call it the Dead Kingdom. By the time the Cursed King was done, there was nothing and no one left alive.”

Venerable Cias nodded. “And then?”

Inara exhaled. “The three remaining kingdoms, Roylan, Pregon, and Arelia, knowing what a great threat the Cursed King posed to the rest of the realm, united to defeat him. It was a long and brutal battle. Devastating. Thousands of lives were lost, but in the end, they managed to succeed. After the war was over, they decided the power to syphon was simply too dangerous for anyone to possess. That to protect the realm and make sure it never happened again, something had to be done. A formal decree was issued and signed by the kings and queens of the kingdoms, officially outlawing the ability. All across the realm, any citizen already alive or born in the future with the power to syphon was to immediately be put to death.”

“Very good.” He beamed. “Anything else?”

Not that she could think of. She shook her head.

“There is one tiny piece of information you have forgotten.”