Thief of Dragons

They say the universe is infinite.

Roehn Cayen stood with her forehead against the cold metal looking out at the surface of a planet she couldn’t even remember. To her, the universe was small and focused. Confined to that blue and green orb guilty of at least one inexcusable flaw.

Cauldex, her homeworld. A place she’d never even stepped foot, despite being born there. The abandoned space stations trapped in its orbit had once served a higher purpose, allowing ancient astronauts the ability to study all of their precious, infinite universe.

Now they were loosely governed shelters for the planet’s unwanted: misfits who’d failed in some way to meet society’s standards. They were forced to live away from their planet, their families, and the shame they’d brought to both.

At birth, every Cauldexian was touched by the Divine, allowing their Echelonite to appear. Affectionately known as Bonded, they were symbiotic entities that fused with their host’s blood, gifting them their natural attributes.

As their name suggested, though, the Echelonites had been used since the dawn of time as a way to keep the classes separated—an indisputable sign of one’s bloodline, status, or trade.

All of Cauldexian royalty, for example, had the Echelonite of a Dragon. Nobles were broken down into different Houses from there, though the Griffins were the most elite. Fishermen had an Osprey, handmaidens a Dove, and so on.

Even long after monarchies had given way to modern political structures, the Echelonites had never changed. Royal Armsmen had become hired muscle or private security, yet were still bound to the Bear.

Roehn’s noble bloodline was that of the Black Dogs of Cayen, but unlike her older brother, she’d been born without an Echelonite. Snubbed by the Divine, she was a shocking and scandalous abomination to her family.

As a mere infant, she’d been smuggled off-planet by her nursemaid, Inglid, and for the past nineteen years, they’d lived in obscurity. They did whatever it took to survive on overcrowded space stations with the rest of the outcasts, living off rations and stolen goods.

Most of the population spent time working as mercenaries or smugglers just to scrape by or try to find the means to stay away from the space stations for good.

Over the years, Inglid had shown Roehn how to trick her blood into casting whatever Echelonite she wanted. It was an ancient craft that had been outlawed eons ago. Scores of Cauldexians had been publicly executed for practicing the Forbidden Arts.

But as with all things banned, the knowledge had never truly been lost. It had simply been passed down in secret to each new generation.

Now, Inglid was dead, and it was time for Roehn to return to Cauldex to show her family the tremendous mistake they’d made by shunning her.

Through legal means or sincere regret, they would have no choice but to accept her. They would allow her back into their House and loveless arms. Then, Roehn would have her revenge.

“Hey.” Reiter was suddenly right behind her, earning himself a fist to his chest for startling her. “Shit, that hurt.”

“What are you getting at, sneaking up on me that way?” Roehn fumed.

She wasn’t the least bit concerned for his injury. They were all scrappers, tough as nails. Fight or die were the only two options on space stations where there wasn’t enough of anything to go around.

“We already said goodbye last night,” she reminded him. “I told you I didn’t want any sappy, crybaby issues from you today.”

Reiter took a deep breath and held his hands up for peace, but his expression had her gut turning with unease. He had the look of someone bearing information they regretted having.

They’d all seen it too many times to have developed any kind of armor against it. In space, outcasts weren’t given the luxury of growing up innocent or experiencing the mythical bliss that supposedly came with it.

“What?” she pressed.

He glanced around the loading bay before giving her an apologetic look.

“You know that group that just came in last night from the Helix Delta Station?”

Roehn had heard about them, of course. Visitors were rare enough to rile up the natives, but she’d been too busy preparing for her departure to make it to the mess hall for evening rations.

She nodded hesitantly. “What about them?”

“I overheard them talking about a huge war that waged for years on the planet,” Reiter stammered. “Roehn... I think you should talk to them before you board the supply ship.”

“I don’t have time, Reiter,” she snapped, his worried tone triggering unexpected panic inside of her. “I’m leaving as soon as they’re done unloading. Just tell me what you heard.”

“It’s about your family.” His words were barely audible as he turned away from her slightly and rubbed his face. “They said... Fuck. Why do I have to be the one to tell you?”

“Reiter, please?” Roehn whispered, her chest tightening with more dread and something akin to the way she’d felt upon trying to wake Inglid one morning and couldn’t. “Please, just tell me.”

The moment his face fell with mournful regret, she knew.

“I overheard them recounting a victory of the Dragons. How they reunited the cities by wiping out every last Black Dog—”

Whatever else Reiter said after that, she didn’t hear. All of the blood rushed through her ears to block out the sound of his voice. Her heart twisted sharply, and adrenaline spiked through her veins. She hadn’t been prepared for that, but by the Divine, it fucking hurt. Why?

Her family had despised her. Roehn’s father had plotted to murder her as a newborn in her own crib! She wished the pain only stemmed from the loss of revenge, the theft of the closure she’d so desperately needed. But she realized now that deep down, she’d always been looking for an explanation, not just vengeance.

Roehn had been harboring a grain of hope that someone in her family had mourned the loss of her. She’d prayed there might be someone—her mother, brother, a grandparent—that loved and missed her.

But they were all gone. Wiped out by the Dragons.

Roehn’s legs buckled, and her body sank to the floor. When Reiter crouched beside her, attempting to gather her in his arms, she shoved him away. She didn’t want his comfort.

Pushing away from him, she sprang to her feet and ran blindly from the loading bay into the maze of corridors where the first tears she’d ever shed for her family broke free.