Page 86 of Vows of Sacrifice

Paivrin cleared his throat, then gave me a smile meant to be affectionate.

“You know the history of the Patriarchs, don’t you? You and I have discussed it before.”

I sensed tension emanating from Dovah. He remained silent, but it was clear he didn’t like the subject of this conversation. In fact, I wasn’t sure I liked it either.

“Yes, of course.”

I knew the broad strokes, but not the details, like the “ancient witches.”

“At the beginning, the Patriarchs who created the world were alone. They lived like this for millennia, but as time went on, their solitude began to weigh heavily on them. Then, the Father of the Universe, in his generosity and love, granted each of them the chance to love and take a wife. They decided to ask that their chosen one possess an attribute linked to the stone that symbolized them. The black dragon wished for his bride to have hair the colour of a ruby. The jade dragon asked for a bride with sea-green eyes. The sapphire dragon, for his part, asked for a bride whose skin would be marked with that shade of blue. And finally, the opal dragon asked for his bride to have a heart with the reflections of his own stone.”

I listened religiously to Paivrin’s story, for never before had I heard of this aspect of the dragon cult worship and devotion. He continued:

“The Patriarchs and their wives immediately fell in love with each other and lived happily. So much so, in fact, that they became united into one. Until the day when the dark side, jealous of the happiness of the world’s creators, decided to tempt the more human and fallible wives, in order to instill in their hearts what we call ‘The Betrayal.’”

Dovah lowered his eyes as if to escape my gaze. This story seemed to touch him more than I would have imagined.

“The Betrayal?” I repeated.

Paivrin gave a smile tinged with sadness.

“Yes. After thinking long and hard about a strategy to break up the divine couples, the one I’m now certain is called the Abyss sent four soldiers. Four soldiers with the same mission: separate and divide. The betrayal of the black dragon’s wife came in the guise of passion, that is to say, a young man who was to take possession of her heart and body. The betrayal of the jade dragon’s wife came in the form of a lie, in the guise of a friend harbouring a dark plan to destroy the love in her soul. The betrayal of the sapphire dragon’s wife came in the form of fear, embodied by an invisible spirit who whispered fears in her ear in order to isolate her and push her into separation. The betrayal of the opal dragon’s wife revealed itself in the form of jealousy, to destroy her confidence and ensure that she was constantly consumed by doubt.”

My fists clenched instinctively as I heard this part.

“What happened? Did the soldiers succeed?”

Paivrin met my gaze with his own, so pale. Did he see me as I saw him?

“Only one betrayal succeeded, and the black dragon’s reaction was terrible. He almost burned the world down. Anger, Ashana, was not a natural emotion for the Patriarchs, even more so for the Lord of Ashes. It manifested in several stages. When the black dragon discovered his wife’s betrayal in the arms of another, he entered a state called ‘fury.’ A state in which the dragon becomes uncontrollable and terribly destructive. The Father of the Universe had no other solution than to let the black dragon forget everything and, out of compassion, the others also agreed to part with their wives. You should know that the Source, the Mother of Souls, had placed half of the Patriarchs’ souls in the bodies of their wives, transforming them into ‘flames,’ or twin souls. Similar and different. Complementary. The dragons would then have to live more than a thousand and one earthly lives, experimenting with emotions and feelings in order to not make the same mistake again. Their Father asked them to learn what unconditional love was. The only true love.”

Dovah stood up to fill a glass with water and offered it to his brother. He remained silent, refraining from any comment. I looked at him, troubled by his somber attitude. Paivrin took several sips before finishing the little-known story of the Patriarchs:

“The four wives reincarnated as flames all have different identities in relation to their ancestral husbands. For example, the black dragon’s wife is called the ‘ancient witch’ because of the origins of her first incarnation from the Amassté people. It is said in the prophecy of the Father of the Universe that she would be the only one in the world to possess the hair of the original bride, hair the colour of a ruby.”

My eyes widened in horror. It was the colour of my hair. Mine. No!

“She would also be endowed with a powerful magic, that of fire-bending,” he added, without taking his translucent eyes off me.

“I have no such gift, Lord Paivrin,” I objected immediately.

I clung to this argument as if it were my lifeline. The possibility of being the wife who had betrayed the black dragon terrified me.

“That is what we will check, Ashana. That is what we will check.”

Without further delay, he got up and headed for the entrance to the cottage. Just as his fingers touched the doorknob, I called out to him, my heart pounding in my chest:

“Lord Paivrin! I can’t be this Patriarch’s wife, since I am married to Dovah.”

That was my ultimate argument, yet my husband’s brother said nothing. After a long moment filled with a tension that electrified the air I breathed, he simply left the house in an unbearable silence. What did this mean? Why hadn’t he answered me?

“Ashana . . .” whispered Dovah behind me.

This time, I knew that my soul knew the truth. That it had suspected all along what I was going to find out. It had known long before me, long before my stubborn mind, which preferred the veiled denial of a reality fabricated by my father. Slowly, I turned in his direction, fear gripping my stomach, and there, looking into his eyes, I understood the inconceivable: Dovah was the black dragon. He always had been. That explained so many things! This time, he wasn’t hiding his eyes from me, two irises that alternated between the colour of blood and that of flames. The tawny colour of a predator. His pupils, two vertical lines, widened as I managed to hold his gaze.

“It is not for the pleasure of contradicting you, my wife, but I’m afraid you are indeed the wife of the Patriarch, the lord of ashes, the black dragon,” he began in a gentle tone.

Predictably, I fainted.

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