Had she really been this close to finding a true love, someone who was destined to remain at her side—by a dragon goddess no less—only to have him turn her down because she engineered software? It seemed absurd, but she regretted ever mentioning her profession. She should have let him believe she was a shataz. Clearly, they had a much higher opinion of that profession in this world than in the human one.
He gripped her by the shoulders, his expression suddenly turning fierce, his brows meeting and lowering to shadow his eyes. “I don’t care how many nixir machines you’ve created. You are my drahi, and I will never let you go.” He pulled her against his chest, and she let him without resisting, sagging with relief at his words. “I will find a way to make you love me, Sarah. You will be loyal to me, not your people, and you will never create another machine again.”
She knew she should protest such domineering statements, but she wasn’t really all that loyal to humans, not that she’d ever had to consider that kind of thing before. She wouldn’t participate in an alien invasion of Earth, and she would certainly stand with any army raised to defend her own world, but she sure as hell wouldn’t help humanity invade some other world to conquer and dominate its people. She doubted there would ever be a situation where she would feel conflicted about her loyalties.
As for never creating a machine again, she did have to consider that for a moment longer. She wouldn’t need video games for escapism anymore. Not if she was navigating a world as fascinating as any game she’d ever played. She’d also discovered that there were many modern-ish comforts in this world, so she didn’t see a need to invent some more advanced options, not that she was that kind of engineer anyway. She’d chosen computer science because she knew it was a lucrative career and she had a knack for computer technology. She wasn’t married to it, nor in love with it.
She had no problem picking an exciting, exotic, and intriguing lover like Jotaha over her career. “I think I can love you, Jotaha. I’m halfway there already.”
More than halfway. She was pretty sure she was already in love with him, but they had only just begun to speak to each other in a way they could both comprehend. There was still so much to learn about him. She didn’t want to find out that she had fallen in love with a dream, only to learn the hard way that the reality was a nightmare.
Jotaha suddenly lifted her off her feet, sweeping her into his arms as she yelped in surprise and clutched at his shoulders. “I’m taking you home, Sarah. I want you to see what I can give you. I want you to know that you will never want for anything, and you won’t miss the world you left behind.”
Carried like this in his arms, Sarah could see his face so clearly. She could finally touch him there, when he was usually out of her reach, being so much taller than her. She stroked hesitant fingers over his spines, which twitched against her palm. At her touch, he turned his head so his scales stroked over her palm, like a cat rubbing its head against a favorite person.
She was so fascinated with Jotaha that she almost missed her second view of the dragon bone city. She finally broke her gaze away from him when he carried her onto the sky lift. She caught sight of the relieved expressions on the faces of the guards that followed a respectful distance behind them as they left the temple.
The city was so big that it would probably take weeks to fully explore. She was fascinated by the odd buildings that spread out across the wingspan of the dragon skeleton. The scaffolding that linked the suspended pod-like buildings appeared far sturdier than she’d initially thought on her first, more distracted, journey to the temple.
Jotaha pointed out many sights along the way, and Sarah quickly grew overwhelmed, still seeing the shape of a massive dragon beneath the many structures that had been cleverly and artistically integrated into its bones.
“Draku Rin—Wise One,” she whispered. “He must have been magnificent in all his glory!”
“There are many carvings and statues of him,” Jotaha said, his eyes on her rather than the city that spread out below them. “You probably passed most of them in the temple.”
“All of that was of him, huh?”
Jotaha huffed his version of a chuckle. “Not all. Bal Goro and the others are represented as well, but Draku Rin is our patron. He was the chief advisor to the Overlord of all Ajda, Bal Goro. He is the most often depicted in our skilev.”
“Bal Goro—brutal teacher. Not two words you usually associate with each other.”
Jotaha looked out at the skilev as they descended, leaving the outspread wings of the city behind them. “His lessons were often cruel and uncompromising. His advisor had far more patience and compassion, though the residents of Bal Goro’s skilev do not appreciate being reminded of that.”
“Yan-kanat history is fascinating!” Sarah gazed out over the city, noting that the bulk of the dragon’s skeleton was now above them, with the hillside it adorned being laid out in huge terraced groves and farmlands, supported by massive rib bones.
“Nixir history also seems fascinating to my people. Your people are born from the children of titans.”
Sarah scoffed. “Yeah, we didn’t do much with that blood relationship, did we? Seems like we couldn’t wait to destroy any myth or magic in our world. I’m not surprised we killed our own creators. It’s something humans would do.”
Jotaha slowly shook his head. “I cannot believe I am the one to say this, and to my nixir drahi, no less, but your people are impressive to us. We fear the nixirs, yes, but we also admire how powerful you have become, despite being so physically unimposing.”
He waved a hand towards the city above them. “All of this was built with the aid of the elder gods, and much of it still benefits from their magic, which fills this world. Even Theia herself was a gift to us from our gods. Nixirs forged their own cities and created their own form of magic with their machines, bending Gaia to their will with their clever minds alone.”
Sarah shifted on Jotaha’s lap, grateful they were alone in this sky lift so she didn’t feel self-conscious allowing him to continue holding her close. “Just… don’t follow in our footsteps if you ever get tired of living in harmony with your elder gods and their gifts. We’ve made a lot of mistakes along the way, and I don’t think we’ve become better people for it.”
She laid her head on his strong shoulder, feeling the fine weave of his tunic beneath her cheek, the only softness to cushion hard scale and muscle. “I can think of the cities that cover Earth, the skyscrapers that pierce the clouds, the breathtaking cathedrals that glorify deities no one really seems to believe in anymore, and the Internet, that ties everyone in the world together, no matter how distant they are from each other. I can think of these wondrous things, and be proud of being human, but then I see what you have here, in this world, and I feel sorry for humanity. They will never know this kind of magic. I also don’t think we have it in our hearts to stop pushing for more. I’m afraid that we will finally get exactly what we think we want, only for it to destroy us.”
The sky lift came to a stop before Jotaha could respond to her, and she felt almost relieved by that. She was afraid that he would agree with her pessimistic assessment.
She tried to slide off his lap to step off the sky lift on her own two feet, but he wasn’t having it. He gathered her back up into his arms and carried her off the lift.