Page 6 of The Last Syphon

The nickname was given to them from those who lived in the kingdoms because they were scavengers. They lied. They cheated. They stole. Border Rats did whatever the Fates they had to to survive because life in the Borderlands was as rough as it could get.

All the inhabitants of the three kingdoms looked down upon them. Talked shit about them. Thought they were better than them.

In retrospect, Inara could acknowledge they probably were, but that didn’t give anyone the right to treat them like the dirt they lived in.

“There’s home!” Felix yelled into her back. “Take us down! Take us down!”

“How the Fates do I do tha—whoa!”

The dragon flapped its gargantuan wings once and then dived, tucking them into its body as they torpedoed towards the ground at unimaginable speed.

Inara’s stomach dropped. A barrage of wind smacked her in the face.

This time, she did scream. She screamed so loudly that her throat hurt, her voice going hoarse. Land rushed upon them quickly, and she screamed some more. Then, all of a sudden, the dragon snapped its wings open. Inara whipped back at the sudden motion of the manoeuvre, her hands squeezing the two small horns in her grasp to keep herself from flying off. Felix screeched, the lower half of his body going completely airborne. If it weren’t for the fact that he had his arms wrapped around her torso, Inara had no doubt that her best friend would have been thrown into the air.

Panicked voices and frightened screams reached her ears as they glided down to the ground.

“Dragon!”

“It’s the Arelian Army!”

“Run! Take cover!”

Inara could not blame them.

Dragons roamed the skies freely in Arelia. And even though they were not technically on Arelian soil any longer, the beasts still sometimes wandered over into the Borderlands, destroying villages and eating whatever they wanted.

Whoever they wanted.

As Guardians of the kingdom, they were protected, free to do what they wished with no repercussions. Anyone caught harming a dragon was put to death. It didn’t matter if it was in self-defence. Guardians were pure magic. To hurt one was considered treason of the highest magnitude.

Despite that, Inara and her fellow Border Rats tended not to give a shit. They protected their own from danger, no matter the consequences. So it didn’t really surprise her when she saw Ralf, Lina, and Zave run out of the tavern and straight towards them.

Well…stumbled would have been a better way to describe it.

They might have been the designated defenders of Deadhaven because they possessed the most lethal abilities in the village, but they were mainly known for being the village drunks.

Threat streaked through Inara’s mind—not the word, the feeling. As if her body thought they were in danger and needed to defend itself.

The emotion felt foreign, as if it did not belong to her. Not her own.

The dragon roared. It was a terrifying, blood-curdling sound that set her bones on edge and sent all the villagers scurrying for safety. Warmth ran below her. It opened its mouth⁠—

“No!” Inara screamed into the air, panic clutching her tightly in its grasp.

Somehow—she had no idea how—the dragon heard her plea. Understood her. The heat disappeared, and its mouth closed. That strange feeling of being under threat pounded through her again, this time stronger, more urgent.

Is it from the dragon? Is it trying to communicate with me?

“They’re my people,” Inara said out loud. “Please don’t hurt them.”

“Who the fuck are you talking to?” Felix shouted.

She did not have the time to explain because Ralf, Lina, and Zave threw their hands up, preparing to attack.

Shit.

Out of everyone in Deadhaven, they were the most deadly. Not only because they possessed the most lethal abilities, but because they had no qualm with killing others.