Jotaha huffed. “She is a titan. She can choose to look however she wishes to look. They are not usually bound by any corporeal form, nor by time or space. They can be as big as worlds, or as small as the chanu zayul. They take on an endless variety of forms, based on whatever suits their unknowable desires. They live between many different realities in ways mortals cannot comprehend. Only the Ajda are their equals.”
“The dragons—the Ajda—live between realities too?”
Jotaha now stood beside her, his eyes remaining on the mural. She had to crane her neck to look up at him as he studied the carving so intently that she suspected he was using it to avoid looking in her direction.
“The Ajda do not stride through multiple realities. They were born from the stars in this dimension. They are powerful and immortal, but even they cannot follow the titans to other dimensions.”
“This whole city, it’s a dragon skeleton, isn’t it?”
He glanced down at her and she bit her lip, hoping she wasn’t asking anything offensive. He already looked so remote, his expression closed off as if he was talking to a stranger.
Was that what they were now? Could they ever go back to their comradery in the final days they spent in the urvaka, working together to survive without the need for many words between them?
He turned his focus back to the carving. “Despite the fact that the duel was fairly accepted, the other titans were angry that their sister would be forever bound to this form. They demanded the Ajda surrender to them and become their slaves in return. A war was inevitable, but the Wise One, upon whose head we now stand, advised that the Ajda make a compromise and shed their mighty forms to adorn Theia’s body for all time. This sacrifice was not made for the Ajda, for they are children of the stars and would survive even the wrath of the titans.”
He tapped the middle of his chest with a quick glance at her. “It was made for us, so that the titans would not destroy our world to keep us from living upon it.” He waved a hand as if to indicate their general surroundings. “We live upon their bones to honor their sacrifice and make something beautiful out of their remains.”
“So they all died for your people.” She sighed. “You’re lucky you have gods that cared about you. Seems like any gods that humans might have had abandoned us long ago, without giving a single damn what happened to us.”
She felt his gaze fall upon her again, but when she turned her head to meet his eyes, he quickly shifted it back to the bas-relief. “The nixirs rejected their creators and eventually turned upon them. They wanted to decide their own path and set themselves above all others to become gods in their own right. This is what the legends say about your people.”
Sarah’s nod was automatic. “I can’t actually disagree with that. I think that is the end goal for a lot of humans—to become gods ourselves. That’s why interest in transhumanism is growing so fast right now in my world.”
This managed to gain a curious glance that lasted long enough for Sarah to meet his eyes. “What is this word? It is in your een-lix, is it not?” He hissed the “sh” sound when he attempted to say “English.” She found it rather adorable, even if it was an inhuman accent.
“Transhumanism. It means some people want to evolve our species into godlike superbeings by blending our bodies with machines to get rid of any human limitations.”
“Nixir machines are virtually useless in this world. Most of them die immediately in the urvaka, and none of them last long enough to use once taken away from the boundary.”
“That’s probably a good thing,” Sarah said, imagining what it would be like if the military could manage to send unmanned probes through the vast maze of caves and tunnels and discover this beautiful world hiding behind that barrier.
Jotaha shrugged as if the thought of a war against human-made machines wasn’t an issue for him.
He gestured to the dragon on the neck of the titaness. “Our Ajda did not die. Most of them left Theia once they shed their skins. We do not know where they have gone, but we know their infernos continue to burn. As long as that is the case, they will eventually regrow bodies as powerful as the ones they left behind.” He broke eye contact, his jaw tight as if he bit back words better kept silent between them. “I believe the Ajda would return to protect us if the humans found a way to send their machines against us.”
Silence fell between them as Sarah pondered that. If the dragons still lived on in some form, she wondered if they would eventually decide to return to Earth to take up their place there among the apex predators. Although Earth might be too much of a challenge now, even against massive dragons. After all, fighter jets and stealth bombers might not make it through the urvaka, but they had no problem navigating Earth’s skies.
“Do you miss them?” Her voice sounded loud as it broke the tense silence.
Jotaha took a long moment to respond. “Seta Zul remains. She chose not to follow Bal Goro’s ruling because of the enmity between them. Yet, she did agree to remain upon Theia, and so the titans accepted the compromise. Now, she is the one who dictates our destiny. She decides if we are to have a family and continue our line—and whose bloodline will share it.”
“And she chose me to be your mate.” She nodded slowly. “I can see why you probably think you would be better off without your gods around, mucking up your own plans.”
“Sarah….” Jotaha turned towards her, but she kept her eyes on the carving, her gaze trailing across the mural to take in other images of battles depicted in what could be chronological order.
“Is that another titan?” she asked, noting a dragon lying on its side, its head turned to look upwards in an almost pleading fashion. A human-looking male stood over it with a spear buried in its chest. This time, the titan and the dragon were depicted as much closer in size.
Jotaha must have picked up on the fact that it was her turn to avoid the subject that still hung between them, unresolved. He turned back to the mural, taking several steps towards the carving in question. “That is a nixir. The only one who ever successfully slayed an Ajda. The betrayer.” His voice hardened, his head spines twitching upwards as if they wanted to fully extend.
“Oh….” The image looked somewhat familiar, now that she knew the man depicted was human. Almost like she’d seen something like it before. “I’m surprised an immortal dragon could be killed. Especially by a single human.”
He shot her an unreadable glance. “Even the stars themselves will die when they have no more desire to burn.”
“That’s… sad. And poetic.”
Another long silence fell as they stood there staring at the mural. Sarah was the one to break it, again. “When are we going to stop doing this?”
His expression was startled as turned to face her. “Doing what?”
She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she rubbed her upper arms, even though the warmth of the inferno stones kept the temperature in the vast room comfortable. “When are we going to stop dancing around the subject of you having a mate you don’t want?”
He closed the distance between them so fast that she barely had a chance to blink before he caught her in his arms and pulled her against his chest. The tunic he wore was thin enough that she could feel the bulge of hard muscles twitching against her trapped arms.