Chosen by the Beasts, Claimed by the Dragon-Chapter 33: Tranquil night

— ZORYN —

"Have you guys seen my dad?" I ask, frowning slightly. The feast is ending, meaning it’s nearly midnight, but I haven’t seen Dad at all—actually, now that I think of it, I haven’t seen Ren, either.

"I haven’t seen him since earlier with you," Roan answers. "Maybe the elders needed his help with something?"

I push my empty plate away (it was my fourth) and cross my arms. "I guess that makes sense..."

"I passed him an hour before the feast," Riven answers thoughtfully. "He was on his way out of the festival grounds."

"Really?" I click my tongue. "Man, my old man doesn’t tell me shit. I wonder what he’s getting up to."

"I can’t imagine he’d be gone for long on his kid’s big day," Ashen adds. "He’s a Dragon Lord, anyway, so nothing bad could happen to him."

I shake my head, amused, "I’m not worried about him, I’m worried for everyone else—that guy does some scary shit when I’m not with him. For all I know, he’s off killing a bunch of people."

Orien’s eyes widen into saucers as he looks up from his book, "W-what? Is that something that has happened before?!"

"Several times," I answer casually. "I mean, as Ashen said, he’s a Dragon Lord—and as one of the only dragons to roam the lower beastworld, it’s his responsibility to help maintain order down here."

Suddenly, a familiar voice comes from behind me. "I’ve heard stories of Lord Daeleon burning feral beast clans into ashes."

I glance back to see Sylas, who is dressed in a completely different outfit this time—though it’s just as glamorous as earlier. His robes are a dark shade of blue, accentuating the emerald glow of his serpent eyes.

I glance back and nod, "Yep. When I was a cub, one time he went on a ’small trip to visit a friend’ for a few days, and when he came back, all of a sudden the violent fox clan that had been tormenting our tribe was decimated. He tried to pretend it was unrelated, but I got him to admit it was his doing years later."

Sylas approaches us with grace, stopping when he’s standing right behind me. He leans down and whispers in my ear, "I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept since this morning... can I enter my serpent form and borrow your warmth for a nap?"

"Man, what the hell?" Ashen groans from across the table. "Are you seriously asking her that right now? In front of all of us?"

I scoff, "Full transformations are against the rules, y’know."

"It’ll be harmless. I won’t cause trouble, I promise," he answers softly, his voice surprisingly genuine. "Your scent calms me."

I turn and meet his gaze—that’s when I notice he has dark circles beneath his eyes, and he really does seem tired. I sigh, "Fine—but first, why haven’t you slept?"

"I have been busy today, both with my own projects and also searching for more specific information on Crystathemia for you and your dog," the serpent explains.

...Man, whatever. I don’t know when I became a pushover, but something about all these pathetic guys I’ve become acquainted with over the last few days has endeared me to them.

"Alright, whatever," I roll my eyes. "Come on, then."

Sylas smirks victoriously, his signature smugness back in full force. I reach out my hand for him to take, and when he grabs it, he disappears into green sparkles, leaving a beautiful black snack wrapped around my forearm.

"You’re quite cute like this," I say. "I could get used to it."

Sylas coils lazily around my forearm, his scales cool against my skin, head settling just beneath my wrist. He lets out a slow, content hum that vibrates faintly against my skin.

"That is an extremely dangerous thing to say to a serpent," he murmurs, eyes half-lidded.

Roan snorts. "You’re literally being used as a living pillow."

"Correction," Sylas replies without opening his eyes, "I am resting my head upon a champion."

Riven scoffs. "You’re wrapped around her like a bracelet."

"Adornment," Sylas corrects.

Ashen drags a hand down his face. "I hate this gathering."

Orien, who has been watching Sylas with the careful fascination of someone observing a beautiful, very venomous animal, finally blurts out, "Does that mean you trust her?"

Sylas opens one eye and looks at him. "Immensely."

Orien’s wings twitch. He glances at me, then back at the serpent. "That’s... really sweet."

I shrug. "He’s not so bad when he’s quiet and not being weird."

"I’m not weird, I’m eccentric. And beautiful," Sylas says serenely, then settles fully, his breath evening out almost immediately.

...Wow. He really was exhausted.

I subconsciously bring my free hand up to his smooth form and run my fingers along his scales. He doesn’t move or say anything, but I can tell just from his energy that he’s relaxed and appreciates my small display of affection.

The table slowly calms again. Plates are pushed aside, and drinks are refilled. Someone lights a small lantern nearby, its glow warm and low, casting long shadows across the grass. The noise of the feast has dulled to a distant hum, laughter carrying lazily through the night air.

Roan leans back on his elbows, staring up at the stars. "You ever notice how quiet it gets right before the festival ends?"

I follow his gaze. The night is completely clear, giving us an unadulterated view of our sky’s tapestry of brightening stars. The moon hangs heavy and full in the dark, casting its silver glow on us all.

"Yeah," I murmur. "Like everyone’s holding their breath."

Riven tilts his head. "You nervous?"

"No," I answer honestly. Then, after a beat, "Just... thinking."

About Ren not being here. He was supposed to meet me tonight, so that I could return the favor of giving him a piercing.

Thinking about Dad being gone longer than usual. He has never been one not to warn me before he goes somewhere—even if he lies about where he’s going, he almost always tells me he’ll be gone and when he will return.

Ashen studies me for a moment, then looks away, jaw tight. "If either of them were in danger, we’d feel it," he says, more like reassurance than fact.

I nod. "Yeah... I know you’re right."

Still, something is weighing heavily on my chest, and I’m not sure what exactly it is or how to resolve it.

Sylas shifts slightly in his sleep, tightening his coil just a fraction. The rune on my wrist that he gave me hums with positive energy, as if he’s reassuring me even while he’s asleep.

I press my thumb against the table, grounding myself. There’s this deep sense of foreboding in the back of my mind—like I know that something dangerous is on its way... and I almost feel as if I’m being watched.

As if somewhere beyond the festival lights, unseen and unknown to me, something has already started moving. Observing. Plotting.

I narrow my eyes and glance around, but I can’t see or sense anyone in particular staring at me—nothing is out of the ordinary.

Ugh. I’m probably just being paranoid for no reason, but I just can’t quite shake it off.

"Hey," Roan says softly, glancing at me. "Whatever happens... you’re not doing it alone."

I smile faintly, "Yeah. I know."

The lantern flickers, and for just a moment, the wind changes direction, carrying something sharp and unfamiliar across the feast grounds. It’s gone before I can place it, swallowed by the smell of food, smoke, and alcohol.

I shrug and lean back in my seat, serpent warm around my arm, friends close, the night peaceful. We spend another hour together in good company; it’s incredible that Riven and Ashen have been able to be near each other without fighting for so long. Orien and Roan have been carrying most of the conversations, but none of us has any complaints.

As I observe, I can see that Ashen is actually growing pretty fond of Orien—and so is Riven. But who can blame them, right? I think this angel of a man could even win the devil over with just his warmth and soft personality.

"Do you guys want to go lie in the grass for a bit?" I ask, glancing up at the sky again. "I feel like the moon is calling to us tonight."

Ashen smiles faintly, "I’ll never turn down a stargazing date. The Moon Goddess blesses those who admire her."

"Sure, why not?" Riven shrugs, trying to sound indifferent—but it’s obvious he likes the idea.

"Obviously," Roan elbows me gently. "As if you even have to ask."

"Orien, how about you?" I ask, looking at the shy avian directly.

His wings twitch a little under my gaze, but he nods, "Yeah. I often fall asleep looking at the sky back home."

I nod resolutely, standing from my seat. "Perfect. Let’s go!"

Sylas is still wrapped around my wrist, tired. Yet, even in his sleepy state, he manages to slither further up my arm, then onto my shoulder. He drapes himself around my neck, careful not to squeeze too tight, and buries his face into my neck.

As I walk with my new friends following me, I smile a little. I really like this—it’s peaceful... but I have no idea yet that this is the last tranquil night I’ll have for a long time.