Kier's POV
I flew straight at the Empress like an arrow made of lightning and rage.
She didn't even flinch.
Her hand moved faster than my eyes could track. One moment I was diving at her with claws extended. The next, I was slammed into the ground so hard the floor cracked beneath me.
Pain exploded through my body. My wings crumpled. Blood filled my mouth.
She's stronger than us, Vash'thar said urgently. Much stronger. She's had five thousand years to master her power. We've had five minutes.
The Empress walked toward me slowly, her white dress somehow still spotless despite the chaos. "Did you really think consuming two dragon souls would make you my equal? Sweet child. I've consumed hundreds."
She crouched beside me, studying my face like I was an interesting insect. "But you are unique. A true merger instead of forced possession. I need to understand how before I kill you."
Her hand pressed against my forehead. I felt her soul reaching into mine, searching, probing—
And suddenly I was somewhere else.
A memory. Not mine. Not Vash'thar's. Not even the Emperor's.
The Empress's memory.
A young dragon—barely an adult by dragon standards—standing in a cave filled with dying elders. A plague had swept through their kind. Something in their magic itself was breaking down, killing them slowly.
"We're going extinct," one elder rasped. "In a century, there will be no dragons left."
"Then we adapt," young Thar'solyx said. "Humans are short-lived but resilient. What if we could transfer our consciousness into their bodies?"
"That would be abomination. Slavery. Murder."
"It would be survival."
The memory shifted. Years later. The first successful transfer. A dragon soul forced into a human child's body. The child's original consciousness screaming as it was slowly crushed, erased, devoured by the invading presence.
"It works," Thar'solyx said, wearing the child's body like a coat. "Now we just need to convince the others."
More memories, rapid-fire:
Dragons who refused being quietly murdered. Their souls harvested anyway.
The great lie spreading—telling dragons this was salvation while building an empire on genocide.
Century after century of new bodies. New faces. New lives stolen.
Until she couldn't remember who she'd been before. Couldn't remember if she'd ever actually been good.
I gasped, back in the present. The Empress was still touching my forehead, but her eyes had changed. Less confident. Almost... sad?
"You saw," she whispered. "My first victims. Before I learned to stop feeling guilty about it."
"You were trying to save your people," I heard myself say. Vash'thar's voice mixed with mine. "But you became the thing that destroyed them instead."
"Perhaps." She stood up, pulling her hand away. "But I gave dragons immortality. I built an empire that's lasted three millennia. I brought order to chaos." Her eyes hardened. "And I won't let one confused hybrid undo it because she thinks she's special."
She raised her hand. Energy gathered around it—soul-extraction magic, designed to rip my consciousness out and leave my body an empty shell.
We're going to die, I thought.
Not yet we're not, Vash'thar growled. Remember the Emperor's memories. He had a failsafe. An escape route. THERE—
Knowledge flooded my mind. The Emperor had built secret tunnels throughout the Keep. Emergency exits. One was behind the third pillar to my left, hidden behind a magical illusion.
"Any last words?" the Empress asked.
"Yeah," I said. "Tell Riven I'm sorry."
Her eyes narrowed. "Sorry for what?"
I unleashed every bit of lightning I could summon—not at her, but at the ceiling. Stone and metal crashed down between us. The guards shouted. The Empress cursed.
And I ran.
My wings were damaged but still worked enough to glide. I shot toward the pillar, praying the Emperor's memories were right. The wall looked solid, but I flew straight at it anyway—
—and passed through.
Illusion. The tunnel was real.
I crashed into the darkness beyond, tumbling down stairs I couldn't see. Behind me, I heard the Empress screaming orders: "FIND HER! I want that hybrid alive!"
Alive is good, Vash'thar panted. Alive means we have time to get stronger.
"Alive means they can torture us to study the merger process!"
Also true. Keep running.
The tunnel seemed endless. Dark, cold, sloping down and down. My body was changing as I ran—scales receding, wings shrinking back into my shoulder blades in a way that hurt so badly I wanted to scream. My dragon form couldn't be maintained. I was too new at this. Too weak.
Finally, I burst out into cold night air. I was outside the Keep, in some kind of drainage area near the river. The water stank. Guards would be searching every exit within minutes.
We need to hide, Vash'thar said. Somewhere they won't think to look.
"Where? They control the whole city!"
Not the whole city. There's one place dragons never go. The place you grew up.
"The Hollow Quarters?" I shook my head. "Riven will look for me there first."
Exactly. Which is why it's perfect. They'll expect you to avoid it. Besides... His mental voice grew quiet. We need to talk. Really talk. Without running or fighting. And you need to see something.
"See what?"
The truth about your mother. About what you really are. I knew Thal'nira, Kier. I knew her well. And there are things about your heritage that even Riven doesn't know.
My breath caught. "You knew my mother?"
I loved her. His voice cracked. Before the Emperor's forces captured me, before eight centuries of torture, I was going to ask her to merge with me. The real way. Consensual fusion, two souls becoming one by choice. But she was already pregnant with you. Already in love with your human father. So I let her go.
Tears burned my eyes. "You're lying. You're just trying to—"
Look at your hands.
I did. They were flickering again—human one second, scaled the next. But the scales weren't just black and gold anymore. They had hints of silver. Storm-silver.
That's not from me, Vash'thar said softly. That's from your mother. She didn't just give you dragon blood, Kier. She gave you a piece of her actual soul. Merged it with your human soul before you were born. You were never fully human OR fully dragon. You've been a hybrid since before you took your first breath.
The world tilted. "Then why was my soul degrading? Why was I dying?"
Because Riven was feeding on it. Keeping you weak. Keeping you hungry. He needed you desperate enough to consume dragon souls when the time came. Vash'thar's rage burned through our connection. He's been slowly killing you since childhood. And your mother's soul fragment has been fighting to keep you alive this entire time.
I collapsed against a wall, shaking. Everything I thought I knew was wrong. My whole life had been a lie. Even my death had been manufactured.
"I don't know who I am anymore," I whispered.
You're Kier Morrow, daughter of Thal'nira the Stormborn and a human thief whose name is lost to time. You're a soul-thief and a survivor. You're stubborn and brave and absolutely terrifying when you're angry. His voice grew gentle. And now you're also me. We're we. Us. Together.
"I didn't ask for this."
Neither did I. But here we are. He paused. I'm sorry, by the way. For all the cities I burned. For all the people I killed. Your memories showed me what that suffering looked like. What it meant. I can't undo it. But I can help you make sure it never happens again.
Before I could answer, I heard voices. Guards, searching the drainage tunnels.
"There! Movement by the river!"
Run, Vash'thar urged.
I ran. Through alleys I knew by heart. Past the market where I'd stolen my first loaf of bread. Down into the Hollow Quarters, where the soulless lived like ghosts in broken buildings.
I found an abandoned warehouse and collapsed in a corner, my body finally giving out. Every muscle screamed. My head pounded. The black cracks on my chest—the ones that had been killing me—were completely gone now, replaced by silver lines that pulsed with gentle light.
My mother's gift. Keeping me alive even after death.
I started crying. For her. For myself. For Riven, who'd been enslaved so long he'd forgotten how to be free. For Vash'thar, who'd spent eight hundred years being slowly eaten alive. For every dragon and human destroyed by the empire's lies.
Sleep, Vash'thar murmured. I'll keep watch. You're safe for now.
"Nothing's safe. They'll find us. They'll—"
Let them try. His presence wrapped around me like a shield. You faced down an Empress today. You consumed a god. You survived the impossible. Rest, little hybrid. Tomorrow we figure out how to destroy an empire.
I closed my eyes. But sleep didn't come.
Because in the darkness, I heard something. A whisper. Not from Vash'thar. Not from any of the Emperor's stolen memories.
A third voice. Small. Frightened. Familiar.
Kier? Are you there? Can you hear me?
My eyes snapped open. "Who—"
It's me. Thal'nira. Your mother. The voice grew clearer. I've been sleeping inside your soul since you were born. But now that you've merged with Vash'thar, I can finally wake up. Finally talk to you.
My heart stopped. "Mom?"
Yes, baby. And I need to tell you something important. Something about why the Empress really wants you. Her voice turned urgent. You're not just a hybrid. You're not just a merger. You're a Firstborn—the first successful fusion of dragon and human souls that actually worked. And if the Empress figures out how to replicate you, she can create an army of Firstborns. Immortal. Unstoppable. Loyal only to her.
"How do I stop her?"
You can't. Not alone. Not even with Vash'thar. My mother's soul pressed close, and I felt love so fierce it hurt. But there are others like you. Other hybrids hidden across the Shattered Isles. Children of dragons and humans, kept secret, protected. If you can find them—if you can unite them—you might have a chance.
"Where? How do I—"
Footsteps. Close. Too close.
The warehouse door exploded inward. Riven stood there, his eyes still glowing gold but filled with tears.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so, so sorry. But she's in my head, Kier. The Empress. She owns my soul. She's controlling me. I can't—I can't stop—"
His hand raised. Soul-extraction magic gathered in his palm, the same kind the Empress had tried to use.
"Please run," he begged even as his body moved forward. "I don't want to do this. I don't—"
He fired.