Page 57 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
Once more, jealousy surges through me, so sudden and powerful it’s like being hit by a Wind Blast. I gasp, the sound drowned by tavern noise. The room tilts, colors blurring, sounds distorting. I drag my hands under the table and clench my fists.
Not here. Not now.
But it’s too late. The tavern dissolves around me, reality peeling away like shed dragon scales.
I’m sitting at that cold stone table again, my limbs heavy with drugged lethargy. The chamber’s walls pulse with light, those same symbols from the sword glowing, shifting, alive. Dozens of figures surround me, their faces hidden in shadow as they chant in perfect unison.
“Omneira. Omneira. Omneira.”
The word echoes through the chamber, vibrating in my bones. I try to move, to run, but my body refuses to obey. Someone approaches from behind, draping something heavy across my shoulders—a cloak that weighs me down like armor. When I manage to glance down, I see it’s made entirely of overlapping, iridescent scales with rainbows trapped within. They shift with each shallow breath I take.
Once more the man stands across from me, his gaze burning into mine with hypnotic intensity. The crowd bows, reverence in their movements. They place an identical scale cloak around his shoulders, the material seeming to come alive against his skin.
He steps closer, towering over me. His presence fills the chamber, commanding and ancient. His voice reverberates as clear as crystal, impossible to ignore.
“I am Tahranis Flarebane, and you’re mine, Rhealyn Wyndward. Together, we will bring a new dawn to Embernia and destroy our enemies once and for all.”
His words invade my mind. I want toscream, to fight, but my body remains frozen, a prisoner in my own skin. His amber eyes fill my vision, consuming everything until there’s nothing else.
“You are the key. You are Omneira.”
The chanting grows louder, pressing against my skull like a physical force. Tahranis reaches for me, his fingers nearly touching my face?—
“Wyndward? You still with us?”
Dakar’s voice slams me back into the present. The tavern materializes around me, faces swimming into focus. My heart pounds against my ribs like it wants to escape, and cold sweat trickles down my spine.
“I—” My voice catches. I set down my tankard with shaking hands. “Need some air.”
I stand so abruptly my chair topples backward, crashing to the floor. The noise draws every eye in the tavern, conversations halting mid-sentence. Without looking at anyone—especially not Vaylen—I stride toward the door, shoving it open with more force than necessary.
The cool night air hits my face, but it doesn’t clear the fog from my mind or the name that echoes there like a curse.
Tahranis Flarebane. Tahranis Flarebane. Tahranis Flarebane.
20
Rhea
Istumble into the night air, lungs burning as I try to steady my breathing. The memories feel like they’re clawing at my skull from the inside, trying to tear their way out.
“There you are.”
I spin around to find Phoebe, Nate, and Adelaide approaching from the direction of the fort. The trio stops short when they see my face.
“Rhea?” Adelaide’s voice softens. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Just needed some air,” I manage, forcing my expression into something resembling normal. “Tavern’s a bit stuffy.”
Phoebe’s eyes narrow, not buying it for a second. Her gaze locks with mine, a silent question hanging between us.
“We were heading in for drinks,” Nate says, oblivious to the tension. “Join us?”
The thought of going back inside makes my stomach turn, but staying alone with these fractured memories seems worse. “Sure. Why not?”
With my friends by my side, the tavern feels different when I reenter, like I’m fully armed instead of walking in naked. I catch Vaylen half-standing by our table, maybe about to follow me outside. When our eyes meet, he smoothly turns his chair and sits back down, resuming conversation with Dakar.
The dismissal stings, even though I know it’s necessary. We can’t be seen chasing after each other.
