the early hours of the morning. Every word consumed him.
This journal was a recorded conversation between a drenowith and an ancient yakona named Yori. Judging by the brittle pages and strange spelling of common words, the book had to be thousands of years old. How an Ayavelian managed to convince a drenowith to speak with him baffled Braeden, but their conversation kept him turning the pages.
Yori and the nameless drenowith—referred to only as “my friend”—discussed everything from the creation of drenowith to the magic behind lichgates. According to the drenowith, lichgates could not be created or destroyed. They could, however, be altered, but the drenowith refused to tell Yori how to do such a thing. He said yakona would discover the magic when they were ready. He did offer a clue: every lichgate had its own brand of magic, which had to be understood before any changes could be made. Braeden whistled under his breath, marveling at the drenowith’s knowledge. Yes, yakona had eventually figured out how to lock lichgates and create specialized keys for those locks, but nothing further. How much more did they not know?
About halfway through, the book’s conversation trailed to the origin of life in Ourea. Isen, yakona, and humans apparently all descended from a single ancestor who roamed the part of Earth now dominated by humans. Over time, some of those ancestors migrated to Ourea, where they evolved into yakona and isen. While the yakona remained in Ourea, isen chose to live in both worlds. Since then, most of the three species shared lineage was forgotten despite the fact they were more alike than any could believe.
Braeden hesitated, rereading this section of the conversation without registering the words. His thoughts raced ahead. If yakona and isen weren’t that different, why could isen steal yakona and human souls but not fellow isen? Certain differences between species were inevitable, of course, but the magic of yakona and of isen were virtually identical. They even looked similar. Humans and isen could obviously have children, though he’d never heard of an isen falling in love with a yakona before him and Kara. Could an isen and a yakona bond the way yakona lovers did? Why not? Despite their differences, they apparently had as much in common.
He frowned. Every yakona was born with a lifeline wrapped around the right arm in a pattern resembling a tattoo. It allowed each to bond with another of the race. When bound to a soul mate, both lifelines would merge to create a new pattern on the right arm of each lover. Isen, however, didn’t have the lifeline. Kara had never acquired any sort of tattoo on her arm after being awoken. It was entirely possible that lifelines evolved in only the yakona, but it might not matter. He and Kara could still be together. Considering their similarities, they might even be able to have a family.
Braeden sucked in a breath at the thought of children and sat back in his chair, not quite sure what to make of all this new information. He hesitated, not yet convinced yakona could bond with other creatures. For a moment, however, he let himself hope. Bonding was an ancient tradition held in the highest regard, especially for Bloods and their Heirs. An Heir born of a bonded couple always held more sway over his people. Since Braeden finally accepted his future as a Stelian Blood, he wanted Kara to share a bit of his culture with him.
Before Kara, his idea of success was keeping his head down and living his lie as Gavin’s adopted brother. As long as no one discovered his Stelian bloodline, he was fine. But with her, he experienced the kind of laughter that made him happy to be alive. She affected him in a way he never thought he would know. Her love gave him the strength to escape mindless slavery to his father. Through her compassion, he finally realized the Stelian people weren’t evil but simply reflected the moral fiber of the Blood who commanded them. After a lifetime
This journal was a recorded conversation between a drenowith and an ancient yakona named Yori. Judging by the brittle pages and strange spelling of common words, the book had to be thousands of years old. How an Ayavelian managed to convince a drenowith to speak with him baffled Braeden, but their conversation kept him turning the pages.
Yori and the nameless drenowith—referred to only as “my friend”—discussed everything from the creation of drenowith to the magic behind lichgates. According to the drenowith, lichgates could not be created or destroyed. They could, however, be altered, but the drenowith refused to tell Yori how to do such a thing. He said yakona would discover the magic when they were ready. He did offer a clue: every lichgate had its own brand of magic, which had to be understood before any changes could be made. Braeden whistled under his breath, marveling at the drenowith’s knowledge. Yes, yakona had eventually figured out how to lock lichgates and create specialized keys for those locks, but nothing further. How much more did they not know?
About halfway through, the book’s conversation trailed to the origin of life in Ourea. Isen, yakona, and humans apparently all descended from a single ancestor who roamed the part of Earth now dominated by humans. Over time, some of those ancestors migrated to Ourea, where they evolved into yakona and isen. While the yakona remained in Ourea, isen chose to live in both worlds. Since then, most of the three species shared lineage was forgotten despite the fact they were more alike than any could believe.
Braeden hesitated, rereading this section of the conversation without registering the words. His thoughts raced ahead. If yakona and isen weren’t that different, why could isen steal yakona and human souls but not fellow isen? Certain differences between species were inevitable, of course, but the magic of yakona and of isen were virtually identical. They even looked similar. Humans and isen could obviously have children, though he’d never heard of an isen falling in love with a yakona before him and Kara. Could an isen and a yakona bond the way yakona lovers did? Why not? Despite their differences, they apparently had as much in common.
He frowned. Every yakona was born with a lifeline wrapped around the right arm in a pattern resembling a tattoo. It allowed each to bond with another of the race. When bound to a soul mate, both lifelines would merge to create a new pattern on the right arm of each lover. Isen, however, didn’t have the lifeline. Kara had never acquired any sort of tattoo on her arm after being awoken. It was entirely possible that lifelines evolved in only the yakona, but it might not matter. He and Kara could still be together. Considering their similarities, they might even be able to have a family.
Braeden sucked in a breath at the thought of children and sat back in his chair, not quite sure what to make of all this new information. He hesitated, not yet convinced yakona could bond with other creatures. For a moment, however, he let himself hope. Bonding was an ancient tradition held in the highest regard, especially for Bloods and their Heirs. An Heir born of a bonded couple always held more sway over his people. Since Braeden finally accepted his future as a Stelian Blood, he wanted Kara to share a bit of his culture with him.
Before Kara, his idea of success was keeping his head down and living his lie as Gavin’s adopted brother. As long as no one discovered his Stelian bloodline, he was fine. But with her, he experienced the kind of laughter that made him happy to be alive. She affected him in a way he never thought he would know. Her love gave him the strength to escape mindless slavery to his father. Through her compassion, he finally realized the Stelian people weren’t evil but simply reflected the moral fiber of the Blood who commanded them. After a lifetime
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