Dragon Soul - The Ancestor Gods Saga Book 1

33. The Return

Lexon marched down the steps of the tower and into the shadows of the night. Striding across the tower yard he was not thinking where he was going. He just needed to walk. Distantly, his mind registered that he could walk again, that the burning ache in his leg was gone and he felt restored. His body no longer felt weak and there seemed a new vitality flickering through him.

If he had not been so angry, he would have noticed and been relieved to know that something of the dragon soul had entered him and was transforming him.

All his life he had prepared for this moment. Since he was a boy, orphaned during one of the great plagues that frequently occurred in the damp and marshy North, he had wanted to be powerful, invincible. He had worked hard to achieve what he could with his own feeble body, but it was not enough and never could be enough.

When he had first learned about the dragon knights as part of his training within the Order, he knew that was his destiny. The dragon knights could not catch plague, they could not easily be killed in battle, they were virtually indestructible and for a boy who had developed a paralysing fear of death and dying, the notion of being one of them was irresistible.

He had never looked back. He had dedicated himself to his training, avoiding friendships with the other young squires as it might distract him from his demanding routine. He was up before it was light and rarely in bed before it was dark. He pushed himself so hard, at times his masters were concerned for him and wanted him to take time to be a boy. Lexon never paid them heed.

Being a boy was a luxury for those who did not have his destiny.

When another plague outbreak ripped through the usually safe dormitories of the Order and stole away many of those boys who had been training alongside Lexon for years, it only made him more determined to succeed.

When he was old enough to become a knight, he learned that dragons were probably extinct. His masters attempted to break this to him gently. Lexon refused to believe them. There had to be one left, just one was all he needed. He scoured the archives. He hounded any travellers who visited the Order for word of a dragon. At long last, three years after he was told dragons no longer existed, he found a rumour that one remained. It was nearly in the southernmost part of the country, technically in a different kingdom. He had gained permission to seek it out and had set off at once. He imagined his masters thought him a wishful fool. At times, he had feared they were right.

Then he had found the dragon, and everything felt as if it was falling into place. As if all he had imagined, hoped, and worked for was at last coming to him. He had been right, he told himself. Destiny had summoned him.

All of that – the battle to kill the dragon, not knowing if he would survive the ride to the town with his wounds, the loss of the soul and then its return – had resulted in this... mess!

He did not blame Riva; she had not meant to fall into the circle. Though, if she had been guarding the door better...

He shook that thought from his head. He didn't want to start resenting someone who, for the first time in his life, had almost distracted him from his quest to be a dragon knight. Riva was different, he might even dare to say special.

But why had things gone this way?

He had been so close to succeeding and now...

What was he now?

Lexon paused and in the darkness examined his hands. They looked the same as they had before he was in the magic circle. He focused his attention on one, his eyes pinned to his palm and tried to imagine fire erupting from it. Nothing happened.

Hartnor had made it look so easy. He picked something up and suddenly it burned in his hands. Lexon did not even feel as if his hand had become any hotter.