Melissa pulled at the strings, closing her bag before heading out through the opening in the tent. Austin stood waiting for her nearby, looking out over the open expanse of the wasteland. There was a thickness in the air, like smoke, that was always present, making it hard to see very far. But from what Mel’s eyes could discern, they had moved the village to a secluded place, far away from any ruins and a great distance from the walls of Aldrion, too.

She missed the city with its bustling crowds near town square and she missed Falden, but she couldn’t go back there. Not yet, at least. She’d been forced to leave everything behind, including Marcus, and there wasn’t a day that passed when she didn’t miss him.

Mel thought this was strange. She’d rarely missed Marcus when they’d both been living in Aldrion, never seeing each other. But now that she’d left him behind to deal with whatever had come after she’d killed the dragon, she missed him all the time.

Her sadness at not being able to see him was always followed by a hard pang of guilt deep in her chest. It snaked up her throat and often liked to constrict her airflow. She wanted to go back to Aldrion, to see him, to make sure he was safe and to ease the uncomfortable feelings leaving him behind had created.

“Are you ready? I think they’re gathering tonight by the campfire. Not sure what’s happening.”

Mel nodded and took Austin’s hand. He led them toward the mounted fire and they took seats around it. They had placed thick logs over each other, lifting the seats away from the ever damp ground. Austin huddled close to her, and she leaned into his warmth. The sun was setting on the horizon, but they still had some time left before darkness would arrive.

Lenera took a seat at the head of the inner circle. She was one of the village elders, an old woman with skin marked by the unforgiving climate. Her face was twisted and scarred, her hair was a white knot tied loosely in the back. She had light blue eyes, something that seemed rather unusual among the people of the wastes.

“What’s all this?” Gabs asked.

“Tonight is a special night.” Lenera didn’t look at Gabs as she spoke. Her eyes wandered instead to a young girl called Mira. “It’s a night for traditions and honoring our ancestors. It’s a night when stories are told and young hearts are lifted.”

Mira cast her dark eyes down to her hands, and they fidgeted in her lap. Mel sucked in a deep breath, lifted her head, and sat up straighter. Why did that give her an eerie feeling?

She didn’t understand it, but there was something threatening underneath Lenera’s voice and she didn’t trust her somehow. Although, Mel couldn’t say why telling stories had her on edge. They were just stories. They couldn’t hurt anyone, and she was interested in hearing them.

“Is it okay if we stay with you and listen tonight?” Mel asked.

The older woman leaned over to the fire and poked a stick among the embers, feeding it another log. She shrugged and her eyes landed somewhere above Austin and Mel. “You are welcome to stay until the sun sets. Then we all have to hide from the night.”

Mel nodded. This had become somewhat of a routine for the group since they joined the traveling village. They would stay inside their tents when the sun was down and not go out until dawn. Once in a while, they would help move the village to a new location. But it wasn’t as straightforward as things seemed. Mel had noticed the people of the wastes didn’t follow these rules like she did.

She’d noticed both Luthel and Hanon sneaking out at night and coming back before the sun emerged. She didn’t know what they were up to or why they’d risk getting killed. Mel had tried to ask them as well as Lenera once, but they’d changed the topic. It wasn’t something to be discussed. Same was with the questions of why they moved the village and how they knew where to move it.

These were the secrets that made Mel uneasy about living among the village people. She wanted to trust them, to believe them when they told her she was safe here. But who could trust people that kept secrets from you?

“What’s so special about tonight?” Gabs asked, taking a seat close to Mira.

“It’s a night when the stars align and things are revealed. You would call it a sixteenth birthday.” A wide smile spread over Lenera’s face and Mel’s stomach fell.

“A sixteenth birthday? Whose birthday?” Mel asked.

Lenera’s eyes once again shifted toward Mira and Mel’s heart rate picked up. Mira gave her a tentative smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“What does turning sixteen mean to you?” Mel asked.

Mira didn’t respond, and looked at Lenera.

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“It is a rite of passage among our people and has been for generations,” Lenera said. “It’s when the signs of your form are revealed and a cause for celebration, of course.”

Mel didn’t know what to say, but she felt a wrongness spread into her bones. There was something about sixteenth birthdays that made her feel sticky. Like it was pure evil concealed with sweetness. She knew it had probably everything to do with the dragon cult and her own sixteenth revealed, but she couldn’t help feeling the same way as she had back then. That sensation of having someone tell you what your life was supposed to be like.

It wasn’t the same, though. Lenera hadn’t said anything about destinies or things that Mira had to give up for the village. She’d talked only about signs and celebrations and stories. So maybe this had nothing to do with the dragons, the void or the cult back home. Maybe this was only about a girl turning sixteen.

Mel’s eyes lingered on Mira’s face and wished she could make her spill out all her secrets. But she just looked into the fire, at the dancing embers, and sighed quietly to herself. She didn’t look panicked or like she was dreading the story that would be told tonight. She only looked slightly disappointed and tired.

Austin put his hand on her arm and looked at Mel with inquisitive eyes. Mel felt herself relaxing and tried not to think about sixteenth birthdays anymore. She couldn’t do anything about Mira getting older today, and she didn’t even know if she wanted to do anything.

The entire village had gathered by the fireplace and they’d created circles around each other in a cozy pattern. They were sitting close and huddled together to hear Lenera tell the story. Mel wondered if it was the same story that was told during everyone's sixteenth birthday or a new one every time. She didn’t know.

But she rested her head against Austin’s shoulder and watched the embers as she listened to Lenera speak. She had a deep voice, one of those tones that crept inside your skin and made you warm. Mel let out a deep breath and settled in.

“Once there was a merchant named Terrimon who lived in Bahlan. He traveled between the great cities to sell goods. Sometimes they were legal, sometimes they were not. Terrimon didn’t care for rules; he thought he had a right to sell. It was long before this land was laid to waste. There was grass and dry sand, lakes and hills as far as the eye could see. There was no darkness floating in the air and the sun shone bright as a thousand fires during the days.”

Lenera paused and looked from Mira to Hanon with a rueful smile on her lips. “Many are the beliefs about how those days passed. But few are the tales who tell the real stories of the people who lived in the great cities. This is one of those tales, one of the real ones.”

“There was one city that Terrimon was not allowed to trade in, not even allowed to set his foot inside. Few were. It was the greatest of all the cities, resting between two mountains, far to the east.” Lenera leaned in toward the fireplace before she whispered, “Krazaa.”

The embers jumped up from the logs and threw light all around the campfire, making many in the audience jump, including Melissa. She didn’t know how Lenera had made the fire react or if it was just a coincidence. But the word Krazaa had been pronounced with such vehemence, Mel couldn’t help but think Lenera had made the fire angry by speaking it.

“One day, Terrimon got a letter sent to his abode in Bahlan. It was not just any old letter. It bore the sigil of Krazaa on it. Terrimon ripped it open in anticipation and a little fear, only to find an invitation inside. At first, he couldn’t believe it. He, of all the merchants, had been invited to the greatest city to trade. The letter told a tale of Terrimon the remarkable. Of the fearless merchant who traversed even the most difficult terrains selling goods of value to the people.”

“Terrimon wasn’t awfully wise, and he didn’t read the letter with care. He ate the praise up and couldn’t see between the lines at the evil lurking underneath. Sure, he had heard the tales of people who went to Krazaa and never returned. People whispered about it in hushed voices. But Terrimon had always believed in a version of the stories where the people simply had never wanted to leave such a great city. Who would, once invited inside?”

“He packed up his belongings and brought his best goods and went out on the harrowing journey that took him to the city between the mountains. Terrimon stood before the golden walls and gazed upon the blinding sigil of Krazaa. His chest was filled with excitement and hope for what was to come. But once he stepped inside the walls, he found he could never return home.”

“It wasn’t because he didn’t want to anymore or because life was simply too good inside. No, for Terrimon the fool had been tricked.”

“The invitation he’d received had been one of malice and deceit. There were no goods to be traded, no people who needed his services here. There were only the dragons and their terrible magic at play. They consumed poor Terrimon and spit him back out. Sucked him dry to the bone and made him into a statue of himself. No more could Terrimon the merchant exist, for there was only Terrimon the soulless left.”

Lenera stopped speaking, but the words still hung thick in the air. The tale of Terrimon was like taking a portal back into those days, and Mel knew at once that the story was real. Even though it couldn’t be. She’d never heard of Krazaa as a bad or wicked place. It had stood against the void for a long time after Bahlan fell, hadn’t it?

Her mind whirled with dragons, great cities, and the evil of the void. She couldn’t fixate on one true point anymore. It was like the stories all contradicted each other and she couldn’t be sure of what was right or wrong anymore. Were the dragons good or bad? Were they with the void or with the sun?

A voice in her mind spoke to her for the first time in a long while. “Come to us. Surrender to our will.”

A chill ran down Mel’s spine, and she shivered against the warmth from the fireplace. The voice sounded strange this time, like it was her own voice who was speaking to her. She shook her head. No, it couldn’t be.

She’d heard the dragons speak to her many times, most recently, when the black dragon told her to kill it. But they’d never had her voice. Always other people’s voices, people she’d never met.

Mel sucked in a deep breath, and Lenera’s eyes were fixed on her now. A smile played on her lips and Mel wanted to hide from it. The sun drew closer to the horizon and Luthel worked to extinguish the fire before her. Story time was over and darkness was coming.