Shadow of the First Sin

Lyra’s blue eyes sparkled with excitement as we soared across the sea. Every now and then, she’d close her eyes, savoring the cool sea breeze as it brushed against her rosy cheeks, causing a faint smile to play on her lips. The corners of her mouth would curl up slightly, but whenever she caught me watching, the smile would vanish, and her gaze would drift back to the open sea. She was still cautious around me—or perhaps around the world itself—believing that a smile might betray vulnerability.

“This is the spot... I think,” I said as we landed on a rocky shore in front of a cove, with a cave leading further in. “Everything looks the same around here.”

“The others will have to take the long way around since rocks surround the cove, and there’s only one road.” Lyra observed, glancing around.

“I’m more worried about Finn. I hope that numbskull doesn’t do anything to him.”

“Why are you two even fighting? Last I checked, you were on good terms. What happened?” Lyra asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I replied curtly.

“Fine.”

“Orion happened!”

“So much for not wanting to talk about it.” Lyra sighed.

“I mean, who does he think he is?” I asked, frustration bubbling up.

“I don’t know.” Lyra shrugged, clearly uninterested.

“I help him out of my own goodwill, and this is how he repays me? He ropes me into this ridiculous vow and then has the audacity to boss me around? Who I bring along is my business, and mine alone! If a single hair on Finn’s head is missing when they return... Oh, my ember, you don’t even want to know what I’ll do to that prick.”

“I didn’t realize you cared so much about Finn.”

“I don’t, it’s just... Nevermind. Let’s just go in and check out the cave.”

With that, we made our way along the rocky shore and entered the cove. The enclosed space was filled with knee-deep water, and as I stepped in, Lyra hesitated, staying back.

“What’s the matter, my ember?” I asked.

“This is an expensive dress, and these boots cost even more. I’m not stepping into that murky water. Who knows what’s in there!” Lyra protested, a note of disdain in her voice.

“Do you want me to carry you again?” I offered, half-jokingly.

“Um, no, that won’t be necessary,” she replied after a moment’s consideration. “But you can carry these boots.”

Slowly and carefully, Lyra unzipped her brown leather boots and slipped them off.

“Be careful not to drop them!” she warned, handing me the boots, which looked incredibly uncomfortable and not at all practical for the terrain.

“I’m honored, my ember! To be entrusted with such an important piece of leather makes me the happiest man in the world,” I teased, earning only a stern look in response.

Barefoot on the rocky shore, she lifted her blue dress just above her knees and stepped into the water. Her discomfort was visible as pebbles poked at her bare feet and mud oozed between her toes.

“Move!” she ordered in a high-pitched voice, shivering. “It’s cold!”

She hurried past me, searching for dry ground. As she waded through the knee-deep water that resembled a puddle, she encountered an obstacle—a slightly elevated ledge that marked the end of the water and led deeper into the cave. She could have easily climbed over it if she’d let go of the hemline of her dress.

“Valerian!” she called out, just a few feet ahead of me.

“Yes, my ember?”

“Pick me up!”

“Of course, my ember.”

I carefully placed her boots on the dry ledge and, with a hand at her hips, lifted her smoothly over the ledge and onto solid ground.

“Thank you,” she said, her tone softer.

“Anytime.”

The passageway was narrow, with walls closing in on us, the ceiling so low I had to hunch slightly, and the ground slick from the tide. A faint, shifting blue light flickered ahead, casting eerie shadows on the wet rocks. A strange, whistling sound echoed from deep within the cave, growing louder with each step we took toward the light. Eventually, we emerged into a vast, open space where the source of the sound became clear—a rift in time, hovering in the air, glowing with an otherworldly blue hue.

But it wasn’t the rift that held my attention. It was what lay beneath it. The floor was covered in a sea of bones—dragon bones. Skulls of varying sizes, some adorned with horns, others were smooth and featureless, some were as small as a human’s head, others were the size of a small shed. There were spines, ribcages, legs, claws, and tails, even massive teeth, all strewn across the cave. Some bones hung from the ceiling, swaying gently in the breeze that passed through the cavern.

As I looked closer, I noticed that someone had carefully arranged these bones instead of randomly scattering them. Smaller bones, mostly teeth and claws, were placed at the entrance, while medium-sized bones, like joints and horns, formed an inner circle. At the very center of the cave, they stacked the largest dragon heads atop one another, forming a grim monument.

This wasn’t a graveyard—it was a shrine.

“What in the world is this place? And why are there so many dragon bones scattered around?” I asked, a chill running down my spine.

“This was once a refuge for the last survivors of the Dragonsworn Conclave. These bones were likely gathered from across the western realms,” Lyra explained, her eyes fixed on the shrine with a sense of awe.

“But why are there so many here? In all my years in Eldoria, I’ve never seen a single dragon bone, and now there are thousands.”

“Vixen’s Veil is also known as the Dragon Cemetery. Most of the dragon bones came from this land. We still don’t fully understand why. Some believe dragons were cold-blooded creatures drawn to the warm climate of the western realms, which might explain why they went extinct here. But you and I know the real reason, don’t we?” Lyra said, her lips playing with a knowing smile, alluding to the memory of a tale my original self had once shared about the dragons being sealed away.”

“I suppose we do,” I replied cautiously.

For the first time, a sense of unease settled over me. Just how much did she actually know? Had she seen only my life and memories, or had she glimpsed even those of my original self? Could she possibly know more about me than I did? I resolved to talk with her once this was all over. When I merged with my original self, I didn’t inherit any of his memories, and that uncertainty gnawed at me.