**BOOK 1 IN THE TALES FROM DROMISSE SERIES**
Silvia considers herself the luckiest woman in all Dromisse. Her soon-to-be fiancé, Duncan Ora, is a candidate for Light Within, the greatest gift that the Almighty Gale can bestow upon someone. Then a ra...
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Sliiide, thunk. Sliiide, thunk. Books slip into place on library shelves, pinched in black, scaled hands. Rimis holds a pile in his arms. He peers at the spines of each and shuffles through the room, returning them to their proper locations. Dragons go to Hell. Sliiide, thunk.
The library is one of the only buildings he left untouched in the city, alongside Ms. Charles' house, his parents' home, and the farmstead. Despite how his family has treated him, despite the acceptance of his true identity, he can't seem to do it. He can't destroy them. Some part of Duncan is still clinging on, and likely would continue to do so, until he figured out who made him this way. Who gave him a mouth to speak, thoughts to think, feelings to feel.
Who gave him a heart to love. To feel pain.
Sliiide, thunk.
A back door in the library shudders open. He looks over his shoulder, and— "Tucker." He nearly drops the stack of books in his arms.
Tucker shambles into the main library. He adjusts his binocular-like spectacles and cranes his hunched neck to peer up at Rimis. His glasses magnify the glimmering tears in his eyes. With a throat clogged by thick mucus, he says, "Duncan."
Rimis faces Tucker. "Why are you cryin'?" He looks at the shelves. "Am I doin' this wrong? I thought I had the system memorized ... did they change it? This is how I did it in Precipyre for a while after my release."
Tucker lopes forward and then lifts his cane, causing Rimis to reel out of his reach. He drops the cane to the ground. "You destroyed the town." He peers out a window. "Blasted it to bits with your lightnin' storm."
"I thought y'all might be here in the library, so I left it alone," Rimis says.
"How many people died?"
"What?"
"How many people died, Duncan?" Tucker fixes Rimis in an austere glower.
Rimis threads his fingers through his hair. He prods at his skull, where a hardened formation seems to be emerging painfully from his scalp. Horns. Dragons have horns. "I don't know," he says. "What does it matter? If they all believed in Gale, then they should be restin' in his arms." Phoebe, he doesn't know where she is. That's not good. "It's all a blur. I haven't gone lookin' through the town since last night. I came straight here."
Tucker sputters, "Did you even leave my house standin'?"
Rimis drums his fingers across his books. "I didn't know which one was yours. Sorry." He continues to shelve.
Tucker makes a peculiar hiccupping sound. When Rimis looks back, Tucker's hand clasps his old mouth, tears melting through his wrinkled face like rain through winding canyons. Rimis knots his brow. "Tucker ..."
"You always troubled me, lad." Tucker's voice is patchy, barely detectable. "Never in my life I seen a child so troubled as yam. Lucienne was always proud of itself for its uprigh' and happy folk, bu' you and your family ... was always somethin' abou' y'all tha' left a heavy imprint on my soul. Y'all had seen too much, been through too much. I always wondered abou' it, bu' never asked."
