Before I could change my mind, I reached out and opened it.
Immediately, I was hit with the almost cave-like darkness in the room. I stepped in, searching the walls for a light switch. When my fingers found one, I flipped it.
There were no words to describe the sight before me.
No.
Dragons. There were dragons mountedeverywhere. Wings. Scales and skin. Heads and skulls. Horns. Fangs. Talons. Everything was all over the walls, on the large desk, on the shelves of the bookcases. There were so many different kinds, different colors, different sizes. There were feathered wings, each the size of a large truck. Long heads like that of a snake and shorter hands like that of a chameleon. The scales were from every shade of the rainbow. There were even tiny antlers that had to belong to…Oh, Gods, no.
From each of these, no matter how large or small, I just felt energy radiating off of them and hitting me like the tide on a beach. The strange feeling… The feeling that something was wrong. This was it. This was that feeling.
It was the power from the dead dragons.
A chill went through my spine. I felt I could sense someone else here. The obsidian pendant around my neck heated almost to a scalding degree. I turned around, ready to face whoever was there, hoping it was just someone coming to check on me.
It wasn’t.
No matter how much I wished it was that.
It wasn’t.
Instead, it was so much worse.
Mounted on the wall across from the desk was a dragon’s head, and a large one at that. It had golden horns growing from its forehead and curling down near where its head would have met its neck. The long muzzle was full of long fangs. Its eyes werea glossy dark brown almost-black color with a slitted pupil that was clearly artificially made. Golden traditional dragon wings were mounted on either side of the skull. In the lowlight of the recess lighting, the dragon’s ruby red scales shimmered with gold. It was well-preserved somehow, against all rationality.
I found the nearest trash can and emptied everything in me: dinner, coffee, breakfast, my sanity. When I had nothing left to vomit, I sobbed, shattered and broken.
I couldn’t think past all of this pain. I couldn’t ask questions about how this could happen. I couldn’t do anything but sit there and stare and sob.
Something tugged at my chest. But no matter how much reassurance and good vibes I could feel being sent through the bond, it was all drowned out.
I don’t know when Quinn appeared in the room. I don’t know when she crouched down beside me. I don’t know how many times she asked me what was wrong. I only know the moment she took my face in her hands and forced me to look at her. Tears flowed from her eyes, etched with worry.
She caressed my cheeks, tried to keep me grounded and present. The tears kept coming. They wouldn’t stop. “I came as soon as I felt you through the bond. What’s wrong, Byrd? Talk to me. Are you okay?”
I choked on a sob. I could barely breathe. I looked away from Quinn.
My eyes returned to the dragon’s head and wings mounted on the wall.
“That’s my mom.”
