Why?”
This time, she couldn’t suppress her grin. “There’s no way to say where exactly, and I didn’t get sick on purpose. It just happens to us humans sometimes.”
“Do you become sick often?”
“I did when I was a kid,” she said. “Now, I suppose I get sick as often as the next person. Do dragons ever get sick?”
“Never,” he told her. “What will happen to you?”
Madja could tell that he was worried, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her a little happy. Thankfully for Sevrrn, she wasn’t feeling particularly vindictive, and so she tried to reassure him.
“Nothing much. My nose will be runny, I’ll sneeze for a while, and I may lose my voice for a day or two. But all I need is a decent amount of rest and I’ll be better in no time.”
He didn’t seem convinced. “When Erda began trading by sea, foreigners brought sickness to the island. The humans developed lesions on their skin. They filled with black pus, and then burst. The lesions oozed for a week, until they became infected. Then, the humans would begin to vomit bile and—”
“That sounds like the Rat Plague,” Madja said, wanting to cut him off more than anything else. Bile was rising in her own throat and she couldn’t stomach another moment of his grisly account. “I read about that once. It happened almost a thousand years ago.”
“One thousand twenty-four human years ago,” he said. “I went to the festival that year. There were dead rotting in the streets and not enough living to bury them.” His eyes narrowed. “But, they still had fireworks that year.”
The fireworks were how the islanders honored Sevrrn, their patron god and protector. To Sevrrn, it may have seemed like the people of the island were exceptionally devout. Even when they were dying en masse, they still took the time to pay tribute to him.
It had probably never occurred to him that it was then that they needed him more than ever.
It had probably never occurred to the islanders that their god was no more capable of saving them than they were of saving themselves.
If only they had saved their money on festivities and bought medicine instead.
“That was a long time ago, and it was a plague, which is a lot different than a seasonal cold.” She rolled up the sleeves of her robe, baring her arms to Sevrrn. “Look: no pus-filled lesions.”
Sevrrn took her arm by the wrist. Her skin seemed coarse and ruddy in comparison to his smooth, pearlescent texture. He pulled her arm up to his face for what she thought was a thorough examination. Sevrrn surprised her by placing a kiss on her palm.
The uncharacteristically tender gesture made her throat constrict. She gave him a tight smile and pulled her arm back.
“Well,” she said, awkwardly gesturing at the objects on the floor. “Shall we get started?”
Sevrrn was visibly disgruntled as she began appraising, and Madja could hardly blame him. She wasn’t sure how long she could stay angry with him, or why she had even bothered being angry in the first place. After all, Sevrrn had been completely honest with her.
Would you die for me?
As soon as she’d said it, Madja realized how stupid the question was. They’d only been together a few months and she was the first lover he had ever taken. He was still muddling through a quagmire of foreign emotions and could barely even articulate his feelings for her. If that wasn’t enough, she’d asked him an absurdly ridiculous and unrealistic question. Would he give up his entire existence for her?
Even now, Madja wanted to roll her eyes. Under what circumstances would Sevrrn’s life even be in jeopardy? How could her life even hang in the balance of his sacrifice? It was downright stupid of her to ask him such a question.
But…
It wasn’t so much his answer that had hurt her. It was how he answered.
No .
Firm, decisive, absolute, and requiring zero consideration. He hadn’t needed to think about it for a second. Wasn’t she
This time, she couldn’t suppress her grin. “There’s no way to say where exactly, and I didn’t get sick on purpose. It just happens to us humans sometimes.”
“Do you become sick often?”
“I did when I was a kid,” she said. “Now, I suppose I get sick as often as the next person. Do dragons ever get sick?”
“Never,” he told her. “What will happen to you?”
Madja could tell that he was worried, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her a little happy. Thankfully for Sevrrn, she wasn’t feeling particularly vindictive, and so she tried to reassure him.
“Nothing much. My nose will be runny, I’ll sneeze for a while, and I may lose my voice for a day or two. But all I need is a decent amount of rest and I’ll be better in no time.”
He didn’t seem convinced. “When Erda began trading by sea, foreigners brought sickness to the island. The humans developed lesions on their skin. They filled with black pus, and then burst. The lesions oozed for a week, until they became infected. Then, the humans would begin to vomit bile and—”
“That sounds like the Rat Plague,” Madja said, wanting to cut him off more than anything else. Bile was rising in her own throat and she couldn’t stomach another moment of his grisly account. “I read about that once. It happened almost a thousand years ago.”
“One thousand twenty-four human years ago,” he said. “I went to the festival that year. There were dead rotting in the streets and not enough living to bury them.” His eyes narrowed. “But, they still had fireworks that year.”
The fireworks were how the islanders honored Sevrrn, their patron god and protector. To Sevrrn, it may have seemed like the people of the island were exceptionally devout. Even when they were dying en masse, they still took the time to pay tribute to him.
It had probably never occurred to him that it was then that they needed him more than ever.
It had probably never occurred to the islanders that their god was no more capable of saving them than they were of saving themselves.
If only they had saved their money on festivities and bought medicine instead.
“That was a long time ago, and it was a plague, which is a lot different than a seasonal cold.” She rolled up the sleeves of her robe, baring her arms to Sevrrn. “Look: no pus-filled lesions.”
Sevrrn took her arm by the wrist. Her skin seemed coarse and ruddy in comparison to his smooth, pearlescent texture. He pulled her arm up to his face for what she thought was a thorough examination. Sevrrn surprised her by placing a kiss on her palm.
The uncharacteristically tender gesture made her throat constrict. She gave him a tight smile and pulled her arm back.
“Well,” she said, awkwardly gesturing at the objects on the floor. “Shall we get started?”
Sevrrn was visibly disgruntled as she began appraising, and Madja could hardly blame him. She wasn’t sure how long she could stay angry with him, or why she had even bothered being angry in the first place. After all, Sevrrn had been completely honest with her.
Would you die for me?
As soon as she’d said it, Madja realized how stupid the question was. They’d only been together a few months and she was the first lover he had ever taken. He was still muddling through a quagmire of foreign emotions and could barely even articulate his feelings for her. If that wasn’t enough, she’d asked him an absurdly ridiculous and unrealistic question. Would he give up his entire existence for her?
Even now, Madja wanted to roll her eyes. Under what circumstances would Sevrrn’s life even be in jeopardy? How could her life even hang in the balance of his sacrifice? It was downright stupid of her to ask him such a question.
But…
It wasn’t so much his answer that had hurt her. It was how he answered.
No .
Firm, decisive, absolute, and requiring zero consideration. He hadn’t needed to think about it for a second. Wasn’t she
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