This caused Seta Zul to nod her head briefly, almost as if she approved of what Sarah said.
“We once offered the gift of our blood to humans, and the power that came with it. Instead of venerating us, as the yan-kanat do, the humans branded us as demons and sought to slay us, because they saw within us a mirror of their own deepest desires—and they feared them. They abandoned the gods who walked among them for the same reason, and turned to a lie. A god they need never face to see their own reflection in its eyes. A god that would never interfere in their own plans for glory. A god they could control.”
The dragon bared sharp teeth as flames spit from her jaws. “Mortal men used a god of words to control others, and in time, those words came to possess great power of their own. That power was used by corrupt leaders to channel the violent and destructive natures of humanity to suit their own petty purposes. They suppressed the harmonious aspects in human nature, creating an imbalance as words made virtue a prison with no key.”
Sarah shivered at the hard tone that Seta Zul’s booming voice took. “I can only say that I regret the choices made by humanity long before I was born. I would have made different choices.”
Seta Zul cocked her head, tilting it so both her eyes now studied Sarah. “Would you? Then let me give you a choice and we shall see where it leads you.”
Her heart thudded as she waited to hear the dragon god’s next words, terrified of what they would be. Afraid that she would make a choice that would steal more from the future of humanity, just as those in the past had stolen from the present.
Seta Zul seemed to read her thoughts. “This choice will affect only you. Humanity no longer tempts us to share any gifts with them. They shed our blood instead of accepting it, and for that, we will not soon forget our anger.”
“I’m sorry about that. Not all men are ruled by fear and loathing of those who are different.”
Seta Zul snorted flames. “This choice is yours to make, Sarah. Let us see if it is the right one. My blood will heal Jotahan, but it will dissolve my seal and drain its power to grant him fertility. He will be forever sterile and his dream of having nestlings will die even as he goes on to survive. This, along with his guilt and heartbreak over being forced to kill his childhood friend will haunt him for the rest of his days. He will be honor bound to stay with you, but no longer compelled by his biology. He will suffer for his losses, and may someday come to resent you for punishing him by forcing him to return to a flesh prison, when he could have flown free in the Eternal Inferno, though he would never tell you this. Yet the decision is yours. Do you set him free, or do you demand I heal him and return him to you?”
Sarah shook her head violently. “No! You can’t give me a choice like that! That’s an impossible decision to make!”
Seta Zul’s glowing draconic gaze was hard and merciless. “It is only difficult for a selfish human, too afraid of being abandoned and alone to set the one she loves free. Would you keep Jotahan from shedding his skin to find a new future? Will your fear bind him, Sarah? Or will you face your own future alone, with courage and hope?”
Tears poured down Sarah’s cheeks as she sobbed in despair. “I… I have to let him die?”
“That is your choice to make.”
“But you said he wouldn’t be happy with me if he survived.”
“Does that matter to you? He will still remain by your side. He will still give you his time, and attention, and love.”
Sarah’s head hung as she stared down at the flames crackling around her feet. She didn’t want to meet that knowing stare any longer. “Is that what you chose? To set your beloved free? Is that why you’re known as ‘Wounded Heart’ now?”
“Your questions are impertinent, mortal. In any other situation, I would destroy you for daring to ask such things.”
Sarah looked up, feeling nothing at the threat. Not even the slightest tinge of fear.
“No,” Seta Zul shook her head slowly. “I will not make it that easy for you. Your life will go on, regardless of what choice you make for Jotahan.”
Sarah hovered there, numb to all sensation but the agony in her heart. “In that case, answer my question.” She lifted her chin, glaring at the dragon. “If you won’t kill me, then I see no reason not to demand an answer.”
“I do not need to kill you to make you wish you were dead, Sarah.” The dragon’s body straightened out of its sinuous curve, tensing for a long, breathless moment, before it relaxed again.
“But, you make me curious, so I will indulge you for the moment. I am a powerful oracle, even among the Ajda. I foresaw the future for my beloved Bal Goro, and it did not include me. I believed that I could save him—that I could hold onto him so that he would not go to a place where his heart would be vulnerable to a mortal. A place where he would lose the will to go on burning when her life ended. He lashed out violently against my attempt to imprison him in his own flesh. I finally understood that I could not keep him from his destiny, but we did not part on good terms.”
At Sarah’s prolonged silence, the goddess spoke again. “You can learn to love again. The heart is resilient.” She craned her neck, moving her head closer to Sarah. “I can send you another yan-kanat mate. Fertility is one gift human blood can give the yan-kanat, and you will be very fertile.”
Sarah closed her eyes, her fists clenched. “I don’t want someone else. I only want Jotahan.” She sighed, reaching up to jerkily swipe away her tears. “Did you?”
She opened her eyes to meet the dragon’s gaze, and she swore she saw sympathy on Seta Zul’s reptilian face. “Did you ever love again?”
“My yan-kanat—my blood-touched children—became the focus of my inferno after Bal Goro and the others left this world. I have no need for a lover at this stage in my existence. I bend my will and essence to protecting and enriching the lives of the chosen ones of the Ajda. Someday, when I know they will carry on without me and their blood will be fertile again thanks to my efforts, I will shed my own skin and perhaps rejoin the others.”
She broke her steady gaze, glancing into the swirling flames that surrounded them. “Or perhaps I will forge a new path for the Ajda. Perhaps I will follow the heavy tread of the titans to some new reality.”
Sarah’s spine straightened, her chin lifting. There was no way she would ever learn to love another like she loved Jotahan. There was no way she could go on living without him as if he had never entered her life and changed it completely.
“I’m ready to make my choice.”
Pain screamed through her skull, and it felt like her brain was on fire. Her eyelids fluttered open as something suddenly jerked her upwards, causing the stabbing pain to strike through her head again. The sound of tearing fabric reached her, though it was muted and surreal. Her body slipped downwards, then jerked to a sudden halt.
She heard cursing, and shouts of warning. For several long minutes, she felt her body dangling, hovering, as though she still hung over the Inferno, but the pain of the flames had moved inside her and now burned through her mind.
Her vision was blurry, and her surroundings dark. Even her body no longer glowed, but she saw the shadow of a face coming closer to hers, just as she felt arms closing around her.