The Dragon Games

Reunion

Time slowed, and the cathedral emptied of all noise except for my heart beat, pumping at a slow, somber pace, like a war drum. The back of my mouth pricked with static electricity, but I was rooted in place, unable to look away from Elio while he was oblivious to my attention. 

The waist of my jacket tugged, breaking the spell. I looked down to find the street rat turned squire boy standing behind me, holding a small cinch bag.

"A loan of a loan." He spoke in vague terms since my possession of the Balthasar's soul stone was not publicly known.

"And where's my six coppers, you little skeeve?"

He smirked at me, revealing his missing front teeth. "Tough luck, rookie. Coppers are for people that know how to hold on to them."

I lunged for him, and he skirted out of my reach, laughing as he ran. As I stepped back in line, I was about to pocket the bag when I felt two distinct shapes push against the leather. I tugged its strings open to let a sliver of light shine upon its contents -- the soul stone and a yellow diamond about the size of my thumb nail.

"Next!" 

I looked up to find myself first in line, one of the women in white awaiting me. A bony hand withdrew from the folds of her silk, beckoning me forward like the Black Reaper beckons his next victim off a cliff. 

Swallowing, I climbed the steps and held my hand above the midnight waters of her cauldron, about to drop my chosen token -- a shinky little pebble I picked from the creases in my boots -- only for her to smack my hand aside and drop the king's much nicer yellow diamond instead.

"Do you work for His Majesty, too?" I asked as I stuck my tongs into the murk, feeling my way through the dark until I hit something solid. I could only hope I scored the diamond, since the liquid had no transparency or reflection, only an infinite pool of darkness.

"Agents of the divine take no heed of mortal affairs," she replied tonelessly. "The petty scruples of man, we listen not. But if I were to listen to anyone, I would listen to you."

I glanced up, my eyes narrowing.

"The deities have their favorites, those who walk among us wearing the same skin as any other, yet their feet never touch the ground. The divine flows bright through their veins, shining from every pore. Say your name and claim it."

"I don't — "

Her eyes flashed black, and her voice deepened to a man's cadence. "Say it."

"Yes, ma'am," I said immediately, jerking back to the cauldron. "Gwen—" 

The tongs heated up so quickly, I nearly dropped them.  

"Careful," the woman in white murmured. "It won't be so forgiving the next time you lie." 

Apparently, the cauldron knew me better than I knew myself. Like an old coat, I had outgrown my birth name, or maybe it was never mine at all. "I'm Raven. Raven Black." Then a promise blew through me, almost as if the deities had planted the words on my lips. "And I will never give the wyvern to unworthy hands."

Heat flashed through my body, and for an instant, I felt the sheer power of a wyvern flowing through my blood. Strength shot through my veins, and my senses sharpened. I could see the fine lining of jackets across the cathedral, hear the blink of an eye, smell Carlos' smarmy cologne from across the kingdom. 

And in the next breath, all of it was gone, so completely and quickly that I would have thought I dreamed it -- if not for the four fingered indent along the spine of my tongs.

"Lift it," the woman in white whispered.

I did as she bid. The king's yellow diamond emitted a faint, glowing light.