The Blood's Flame (The Dragons of Flareia Book 1)

Chapter 1 - Kylan

The Umbrassi Crypts

26th year of the Ocean

1st Moon

Kylan could not remember how it felt to have the sun graze his face. He could not remember how it felt to eat anything that wasn't the dust falling from the ceiling. He could not remember how it felt to stretch his limbs and move. He wasn't sure he would ever experience these things again – they would only happen if he succeeded.

No one had succeeded in the last two hundred years – almost since before the fall of the Old Kingdom.

He did not know how long he had sat, cross-legged in the darkness of the deepest crypt beneath the Umbrassi Palace of Stars. He had lost all sense of time along with the sense of feeling in his legs after the first few hours. All he knew was that he had to stay sitting there, as still as the ancient dead that surrounded him.

When he had first entered the crypt, five other boys had followed him, escorted by a Palace official who couldn't run away fast enough. As time passed, he began to hear the boys slowly falling into insanity around him, their screams and eerie laughter echoing off the ragged stone walls. Eventually, their insanity got the best of them, and they laughed or screamed themselves to death. That was what had eventually kept Kylan sane himself – counting off the other boys as they gave in. Reminding himself it would be over soon.

Four were gone.

He was close.

He wished he could look around himself to see how the final boy was coping but it was no use – the darkness of the crypt was too complete. He knew if he opened his eyes – or were they already open? He couldn't remember – he would see only darkness. His dark Umbrassi skin camouflaged all too well in the blackness, and even the metal and crystal studs littering his face and arms were invisible.

Somewhere to his left, the other boy cried out. Kylan felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. Was this the end? Would this boy give in like the others? Would Kylan get to return to the surface – to his family – as the pride of the Umbrassi people?

No, he reminded himself. If the point of this challenge was to merely outlive the five other boys, it would not have been so long since anyone succeeded. No – there had to be something other than keeping your mind in one piece while everyone else's fell apart. Kylan tried not to think of the possibilities.

In the darkness, something brushed past Kylan's leg. He jumped slightly, trying to keep as still as possible, and his eyes – which had, apparently, been closed – flew open, but his search was fruitless. He closed his eyes again and reached out his hands towards the thing that had brushed his leg. His hands came in contact with... fur? He pulled his hand away in shock, then found himself reaching forward again. Taking the furred creature in both hands, he sat it in his lap and turned it to face him.

One gold eye stared up at him, glowing in the darkness. Kylan found himself squinting away from even that small amount of light. He moved his hand to the creature's head, noting two small, pointed ears, a nose, whiskers. A second eye healed shut, a ragged scar running down the right side of the creature's face. A shiver ran down Kylan's spine as he recognised the creature.

"Seraphi," he breathed, the name echoing around the crypt despite the fact almost no sound crossed his lips. "You're his Familiar."

And you are Kylan Halif. The cat's voice spoke in his mind. Your bravery knows no bounds.

Kylan had to stop himself from laughing aloud. Bravery? He wasn't there because of bravery. He was there because he had gambled away too much of his family's money, and this was the only way he could hope to keep them from the Pits. I'm not brave, he thought, I'm a fool.