Chapter 1
The day Nahleia saw her first dragon head was when she was 10 years old. She never understood why their temple didn't have a tent of its own until that day. The head was larger than any tent she had ever seen. As the beast scourged on the sacrificial pit, the flames reached heights that she feared it would burn the moon with it.
The smell was just as surprising. She'd expected it to fill the air with smoke, leave a bitter taste on her tongue, and leave her throat dry. However, the air remained clean and the night clear.
"A dragon is not a natural beast," the priest had explained when he noticed her frown. "It has no place on this earth, so when we set fire to it, its physical form returns to the plane from which it came and it takes its ashes with it. It's how Aheia frees their souls and returns them to their rightful place."
The priest had been right. By morning nothing was left of the giant head. Not even ash.
When Nahleia was 15 the priest had called her to him one sunny afternoon. She'd been making preparations for tonight's dinner as her mother and father were training alongside the other Destruction Slayers.
She sat down in front of the ritual pit, her knees in the sand. The priest held two fingers to the crown of her head as he stood beside her.
"Aheia graced me with a dream." The words had caused a chill to run down her spine. "He promised salvation of the catastrophe beasts, a sure way to send them back to where they belong."
Death is not the end, she had thought, the mantra comforting her nerves, where we journey life goes on.
"At the center of this dream, you stood, Nahleia, a dragon at your back larger than any that have ever flown this sky, and its brothers and sisters below your feet as flames consumed them."
Her breath had caught, the image that flooded her mind one she could still see as clearly as the day the priest had shown it to her. For every dragon that is killed a new one is born, but if there are no dragons left to birth the new ones . . .
"From this day on you will prepare and lead us to salvation."
At 22 Nahleia saw her second dragon head, but she did not wonder at it like the first time. Tears ran down her cheeks instead. It had taken her father, his blood still glistering fresh on its teeth.
A year later they had made home close to the capital. A month later it was announced the Dragon House was inviting anyone interested in becoming a new family member to their palace.
A new dragon had been born.
