A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania #2)(141)

“It’s not my fault!”

“I didn’t say it was. It’s just… I didn’t know about any of this until a few weeks ago. It just makes me wonder how everyone else knows more about me and my destiny than I do. It’s annoying.”

Zero scoffed. “You try minding your own business and then, out of nowhere, get told that someday, a wizard was going to come for you. That I would have to make a choice between doing what I wanted or doing what was right. And that what was right wasn’t always going to be obvious.”

“Yeah, I can actually relate to that. Except mine was my long-lost grandma who I’d never met before.”

“Weak,” Zero breathed.

“Dude,” I agreed. “So weak. Mind if I sit down?”

Zero hesitated, but then said, “I don’t care. You can do what you want. Wizards usually do. You’re all terrible people. Really terrible people.”

But I got the feeling that if he didn’t want me there, I sure as shit wouldn’t be there. I took a seat at the base of the tree he’d grown when I’d found him, my back against the trunk, facing him.

I waited until I could gather my words, wanting to say the right thing without sounding too rehearsed. It was important, maybe as important as anything I’d ever had to say before. I needed him, I knew, and I had to make him believe I needed him. How I needed him or why, I couldn’t exactly say. But I did. My magic didn’t exactly mesh with his, but it didn’t either with Kevin right away. And it still didn’t, not completely. But it wasn’t the same. Gary had magic. Tiggy did as well to an extent, given he had giant’s blood within him. It would never mix like mine did with Morgan’s. We weren’t the same. I was human. They were not. Magic was different to different species.

But I could feel him, like I could feel them, though nowhere near as strong. And I didn’t think I could convince him to leave this place behind to give us time to bond like I’d done with the others. I thought it would be too much too soon. I didn’t know how much time we had, so when I spoke, I wanted it to be the right thing to say.

“You said you knew Morgan of Shadows,” I said finally. “Or knew of him.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know Randall?”

I didn’t miss the way he twitched. “Yeah—yes. Um. He’s scary.”

That gave me pause. “Have you ever met him?”

He shook his head. “No, but the year after the star dragon came to me, I woke and heard whispers of a wizard unlike any that had ever existed before.”

And that— “How old were you when the star dragon came?”

“Oh. Uh, I was… seven. Seven years old. Just a kid. I’m old enough now, if that’s what you’re thinking!”

I closed my eyes. “Seven hundred years ago, the star dragon came to you. About me.”

“Yes? Why?”

Why. Why, indeed. Why had the star dragon prophesized me to Zero seven hundred years ago, well before I had been born, before Morgan, before Myrin, even before Randall had been born? And if that was the case, why couldn’t Myrin have been stopped the first time around? What was it about this time that was different? Why now?

Why me?

“Did I break you?” Zero asked, stretching out toward me. He moved slowly, as if unsure, his hood tucked to the side of his head. He didn’t look as fearsome now. Still snakelike, but he reminded me of Kevin in a way, and it’d been a long time since I’d been afraid of Kevin.

“No,” I said, but it came out as a croak. “No. Just… surprising, is all. It’s not what I expected to hear.”

He didn’t pull away, just rested his head on the ground, closer than he’d been before, eyes on me. If I stood, we’d probably be eye level, given how big he was. “It’s the truth,” he said. “Time is different for me.”

“I can imagine. It must be difficult, jumping through the years like that.”

It almost looked like he shrugged, but since he didn’t have shoulders, I couldn’t be sure. “I guess. It’s hard to make friends that way, given that they’d probably all be dead by the time I woke up again.” His eyes widened. “Not that I want friends or anything! I don’t need friends. I don’t even want friends. Friends are way lame.”

“Sure,” I said easily. “I totally get that. Friends are difficult, sometimes.”

“Right?” he said. “And even if they aren’t, they don’t live. One time, I made friends with a squirrel right before I went to sleep and thought I could keep it with me. When I woke up the next time, it was nothing but bones.”

“That’s… a really sad story,” I said. “Dude, what the hell.”

“Now you see why everything is about pain,” Zero moaned. “No one understands me, not even squirrels who die on top of me and leave their stupid bones for me to find when I wake up. I mean, who does that?”

“That damn squirrel.”

“Right? That damn squirrel. Whatever. I didn’t need him. I didn’t need anyone. I still don’t. I have my trees and flowers. That’s all I need.”

“I think everyone needs someone,” I said quietly. “It helps. In the long run.”

He didn’t say anything, just looked off into the dark forest around us.