Weeks of meditating in the corner of the cell like some kind of malnourished monk had finally paid off.
Every night after labor, while everyone else slept or Rob rambled through another wyvern story, I’d sit there and just…
reach.
Inward.
Toward that vague, sleeping presence I could feel curled up somewhere behind my ribs, and mostly get nothing for my efforts except a headache and Millianna asking if I was constipated.
Tonight, though, something clicked.
It wasn’t dramatic.
No flash of light, no dramatic surge of power — just a sudden, quiet sense of a door opening somewhere in my own head, and on the other side of it, something vast shifting its attention toward me for the first time.
…Well.
Took you long enough, little one.
Oh.
Oh hell yes.
The voice was deep, rumbling, and — much to my surprise — didn’t sound remotely threatening.
If anything, it sounded amused.
Tired, old, but amused.
Hi.
Uh.
Hello.
Can you actually hear me right now, or— I can hear you just fine.
Took you nearly a year of banging on the door before you figured out how the handle worked, but here we are.
In my defense, nobody left instructions.
Fair enough.
There was a pause — the kind that felt like a large, old creature settling itself more comfortably, even though neither of us had bodies doing any settling in this weird mental space.
You want to know why you’re carrying me around, I assume.
Kind of been wondering, yeah.
Long story.
Shortened version: I had a friend.
Powerful, stubborn, better at magic theory than either of us had any right being.
We had an enemy — one neither of us could beat outright, not without losing everything trying.
So we made a choice.
Seal me away.
Hide me somewhere the enemy would never think to look.
Somewhere safe.
Let me guess.
Inside a person.
Inside a bloodline.
Passed down, generation to generation, quietly.
Nothing showy.
Just…
waiting.
The idea was that eventually, the threat would pass, and I could be woken again by someone who deserved to carry that kind of power.
It didn’t go that way.
Why do I feel like I know where this is going.
Somewhere down the line, one of my carriers turned out to be less noble than the ones before her.
Found out what she was sitting on.
Decided that instead of waiting for some hypothetical future need, she’d just…
take.
Modified the seal.
Built in a little function nobody asked for — a way to drain my power directly into the bearer, whether I agreed to it or not.
Doesn’t matter if I like the person holding the seal.
Doesn’t matter if it slowly wears me down bit by bit, generation by generation.
The seal just takes.
That’s disgustingly efficient.
Also incredibly rude.
Very rude.
And it’s been running quietly in the background of every carrier since, siphoning off pieces of me whether they even knew it was there.
You included, as of a few months ago.
I sat with that for a moment.
A magical leech built directly into my own soul, put there by someone who’d been dead for generations, still quietly chewing on a dragon that never agreed to any of it.
Show me.
The part of the seal that does that.
Show me exactly where it is.
…You’re not even going to ask if removing it is safe first?
Should I be asking that?
No.
But most people would ask anyway.
I’m not most people.
Also, kind of already used to trusting strangers with terrible bedside manner about life-altering decisions, so.
Show me.
He did — and it wasn’t really a “seeing” so much as a sudden, total understanding, the layout of the seal unfolding in my mind like a diagram I’d somehow always known.
The core of it, keeping him bound and hidden.
And then, tangled through it like rot through wood, the leeching function — small, almost elegant in how quietly it worked, siphoning strength without ever announcing itself.
I found the edges of it.
And without a second thought, I just…
pulled it loose.
Unwound it.
Discarded it like peeling old wallpaper off a wall.
This move again.
Nice.
I didn’t say that part out loud, obviously.
Wasn’t about to explain a certain orange-jumpsuited ninja to a dragon who very much did not need that context.
There was a long pause on the other end.
…That’s it?
You just took it out.
No hesitation.
Didn’t even ask what it would cost you.
Should it have cost me something?
No.
But most people hesitate before ripping a chunk out of a seal fused to their own soul, on the word of a voice they met thirty seconds ago.
Yeah, well.
You didn’t lie to me about anything, far as I can tell.
And that thing was stealing from you for generations without your consent.
Wasn’t exactly a hard call.
Another pause.
Longer this time.
…Huh.
Alright.
Well.
Kid — I think you and I are going to get along just fine.
Brothers, as far as I’m concerned.
What you did there, most beings wouldn’t have bothered with.
Brothers, huh?
I can work with that.
Big brother it is, then.
Big brother works.
I’ve been called worse by better company.
So, big brother — teach me how to actually use magic already.
Kind of been sitting on a dragon for months with nothing to show for it but a sore back from meditating.
Patience.
We’ll start small.
But first — the dragon’s tone shifted, something sharper and more curious threading through it.
Something’s been bothering me.
There’s a strange…
residue, in the back of your mind.
Not memories, not quite.
Something that doesn’t feel like it belongs to a body this young.
Care to explain that?
Ah.
So, quick question first — can you actually read my thoughts?
Like, all of them, right now?
No.
I can sense the shape of things, feel when something’s off, hear you when you speak to me directly like this.
Can’t just rifle through your head, if that’s what you’re asking.
Whatever that residue is, it’s locked up tight — tighter than anything a five-year-old should be capable of locking down, frankly.
Good.
Good, that’s — actually really good to know.
Also — you don’t happen to know anything about a god who likes meteors and bad decisions, do you?
…A what.
Nothing.
Never mind.
Long story.
We’ll get to it.
Eventually.
Maybe.
…Brothers, and already keeping secrets from me.
Wonderful.
Big brother privileges.
I get one mysterious backstory too, don’t I?
…Fine.
Fair’s fair, I suppose.