The Sin Eater Chronicles

A hush descended so swiftly that the distant crackle of a torch seemed unnaturally loud. Through the parting throng advanced a striking woman with ebony hair that shimmered like polished scales. Her robe, deep green with swirling golden accents, clung to her lithe form. Although she appeared human at a glance, her eyes—the slitted gold pupils—gave her away as something else entirely: a dragon in human guise. Her presence resonated with silent power, as though the very air quivered around her.

Behind her walked four male attendants, each easily a head taller than even the biggest human in the courtyard. Their muscular physiques and sharp features hinted at draconic ancestry. Small, curved horns peeked from their temples, half hidden by thick braids of dark hair. Their eyes, too, were reptilian, reflecting torchlight with an unsettling gleam. One carried a small chest carved from obsidian, another wore a silver circlet shaped like a coiled serpent. Clearly, they were not ordinary bodyguards, but formidable dragons themselves in humanoid form.

The watchers pressed back, forming a wide berth. Even the dwarves, usually bold, gave them space. The elves observed with guarded composure. The Church's priests looked tense, as if uncertain how their faith accounted for dragons among mortals. Some foreign lords shrank away instinctively, well aware that defying a dragon's will was akin to courting disaster.

Aiyara's heart pounded. She had glimpsed the silhouette of dragons earlier, but seeing the famed Dragon Empress up close was another matter entirely. Her father had once told her that dragons rarely meddled in human affairs unless they saw something significant to gain. Whatever her reason for arriving now, it was sure to be monumental. Yet, to Aiyara's astonishment, the Empress approached the dais with measured steps, stopping just short of the first stair. She inclined her head ever so slightly, a gesture that could be taken as a sign of respect—or an acknowledgment of the novelty of the situation.

Aiyara gathered her courage and greeted the Empress with a graceful bow. "Empress Suryu, you do us a rare honor by attending our solstice festival. Masan is pleased to welcome you."

Suryu's lips curled into a half-smile. Her voice, when it emerged, was low and almost predatory in its calmness. "Princess Aiyara. Word reaches the furthest mountains that your mother and father are soon to depart for new lands across the sea. So I came to witness this… turning of the tide." She cast a glance around the courtyard. "Your realm is quite vibrant tonight."

Aiyara nodded, pulse still thrumming. "We open our gates to friends and visitors from all lands. We hope the festival is to your liking."

The Empress let out a soft laugh—more exhalation than merriment. "Your festival is… fascinating. Humans with their ephemeral joys and petty rivalries. But I have not come to ask for your hand in marriage, if that is what you suspect. Dragons do not so lightly bind ourselves to mortal rulers." Her golden eyes flicked across the dais, taking in the swirl of watchers, many of whom held their breath, transfixed by her presence.

Aiyara felt a peculiar blend of relief and disappointment at the Empress's statement. While the notion of a draconic consort had been far-fetched, part of her had wondered if some extraordinary alliance might be proposed. "I see," she managed, carefully selecting her words. "Then you are here to—"

"Observe," Suryu replied, a note of amusement tinging her voice. "Dragons have survived countless ages by observing mortals, learning from their mistakes, and stepping in when it suits our designs. We find it… entertaining that so many suitors vie for your favor, each offering trinkets of strength or wealth. Do you truly trust them to stand by you in storms yet unseen?" She asked this question with a cock of her head, her reptilian gaze piercing.

Aiyara's palms felt clammy. She realized the Empress was testing her, measuring her response. "I am well aware of the complexities each suitor brings. Masan has its own wisdom. We do not accept alliances lightly. But we also strive for cooperation where possible."

Suryu nodded lazily, as though only half-impressed. One of her attendants stepped forward, but the Empress waved him back. She took another step closer, studying Aiyara's face. "Your pride in your culture is unmistakable. I see it in your eyes, Princess. That spark of confidence. Have a care that it does not become hubris."

A flicker of heat flashed inside Aiyara—her pride. The Empress's words felt uncomfortably prescient, as if she sensed the hidden spark that had been growing within. The princess forced a calm smile. "Thank you for your counsel, Empress. Perhaps in observing us, you might find reasons to appreciate the mortal realm's capacity for hope and unity."

A fleeting grin touched Suryu's lips, revealing teeth just a little too sharp to be entirely human. "We shall see." Turning slightly, she addressed the courtyard at large. "Your solstice festival is full of intrigue. I find it… appetizing. I wish you fortune, Princess Aiyara, because calm seas never forged a great sailor."

Her last words crackled with an undertone that sent a chill up Aiyara's spine. Calm seas never forged a great sailor. She recognized it as both a blessing and a curse, implying that the challenges ahead would test her limit. Then, as abruptly as she arrived, the Empress pivoted on her heel, her four male dragons forming a protective crescent behind her. Together, they moved through the crowd as people instinctively parted for them, a ripple of hushed awe following in their wake.

Long seconds passed before the courtyard began to breathe again. Aiyara exhaled, realizing she'd been holding tension in her shoulders. Kida stepped closer, whispering, "That was… intense. Did she threaten you?"

"I'm not sure," Aiyara admitted. "Dragons speak in layered meanings. She might have just been cautioning me. Or testing me."

Kida nodded, looking unsettled. "At least she didn't stake any claim. Imagine the confusion if a dragon tried to become your consort."

Despite the tension, Aiyara smiled faintly, imagining the uproar that would have caused. But the moment of levity faded quickly, replaced by a renewed awareness of how precarious her situation was. Even the dragons saw the swirl of ambition around her. And they enjoy it, she mused, like spectators at a grand spectacle. Another coil of frustration twisted in her stomach, mingling with her pride. She wanted to prove to the Empress—and to all watchers, mortal or otherwise—that Masan was not merely a stage for petty power struggles, but a realm of genuine unity.

Over the next few minutes, the courtyard gradually returned to its vibrant hum. The suitors who had not yet declared their intentions seemed almost hesitant after the Empress's departure, as if worried about following such a formidable act. Aiyara stepped back, allowing the festival to flow around her, but she knew more men would come soon. She could see them in the crowd—muttering with their advisors, adjusting their attire, preparing their carefully crafted speeches.