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DRAGONS OF KARASK

BLUE FLAMES OF LOVE

ALINA GIUCHICI
 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23

Author’s Note
Dragons of Karask
By Alina Giuchici
No portion of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any electronic system,
or transmitted in form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy,
recording or otherwise, without written permission from the authors.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead,
events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
 1

I n a world where love was forbidden and dangerous, but it was

your only weapon against the darkness, what would you choose?

Nothing compares to riding a dragon!

Thranadon flew fast. The young girl held on to him as tight as
possible while trying to shoot the approaching Shadow warriors.
At one time, the Shadows possessed Dragons, humans, and other
species of living creatures and existed with them in a symbiotic
relationship until the organic part became too weak. Then the
Shadows would kill their symbiont and move on to the next.
The Shadows were rootless and interested only in feeding,
conquering, and killing. Of those possessed, the lucky ones would be
fully absorbed and become one with the Shadow parasite. The less
fortunate would watch their own actions from inside their soul, like a
movie unfolding without any power to change anything.
Thranadon was hit, a massive energy ball striking his right wing. He
spun in the air. The young girl had a moment when she knew that
she could kill the Shadow. Only she needed both hands to aim. She
fired the Flower of Life oil-laced bullet. It hit the Shadow and killed
it. A massive roar split the green sky. Thranadon still fell. The ground
sped toward them.

In a world where love was forbidden and dangerous, but it was your
only weapon against the darkness, what would you choose? Narinya
would have to face this choice soon.
In the meantime, she was bored sitting in class.
Oh, so very bored.
She barely hid her yawn.
Staring at the tree crystals that measured time did not made it pass
any faster. The yellow ones dripped slowly on the silver plant
underneath it. The blue rose in their tube and the red spilled over
the Flower of Light. The class would end when the Flower of Light
bloomed fully, exploding in a rain of silver and purple light.
She tried to stifle a yawn. Being one of the Candidates, Narinya had
to learn about genetics, the art of plants, and the propagation of the
species. Yay! She was way more into fight classes than this. Even
boring literature was better than botanical science.
Narinya’s teacher, Sister Daria from The Sisters of the Needle, an
order of nuns that was not into religion but genetics and research,
was the dullest teacher ever. Sister Daria’s voice was even and dry.
There was no emotion in it, just control. The body and mind should
always be under control, according to a mantra of the Sisters of the
Needle.
This was the last class for the day, and Narinya had three more days
left until the selection ceremony took place. Still, her mind travelled
everywhere except to the topic presented by the tall, skinny woman
dressed in a dark green robe. Narinya avoided looking at the double
helix tattoo on the nun’s forehead. It looked as if she had a third
eye.
She checked out her classmates. The fifteen young women, each
born the same year as she was, were all Candidates. They sat in the
dark room watching the hollow projection about the human genome
and listening to the explanation of Sister Daria.
All the benches and tables in the classroom were made of stone to
ensure the girls were never too comfortable. Narinya fussed on her
cold, hard bench. The benches responded to their needs, a necessity
because they all lived in an underground city called the Floating City
of Caves. The planet Karask was alive and some minds could tap into
it and manipulate fauna and rock formations. This was one of the
powers of the Dragons. Only Dragon minds could connect with
Karask.
Narinya wore her long brown robe that she had buttoned up to the
neck. She hid her training suit underneath and, as such, was
uncomfortable and sweaty. It was worth it. After class, she wanted
to get to the dojo as quickly as possible. The senior students, the
girls from the last year of the selection process, also wore brown.
The nuns took the symbolism from the old earth. The brown
symbolized a tree trunk and, like a tree, the senior students should
be strong and ready. Only on Karask, trees where silver, which was
why the brown and green didn’t made sense to Narinya.
Of the fifteen girls that watched the holographic projection, only ten
would become part of the Selection Ceremony. Narinya stared at
them. She always considered herself the ugliest of the group, but it
didn’t bother her. She was the best fighter in class. Thanks to having
the wildest imagination, her creativity was unmatched. Still, her
colleagues were so much more beautiful. When Narinya turned
sixteen, she had cut her hair short. That caused a scandal because
all the other candidates had long hair that they promised not to cut
once they turned twelve. Sister Daria had called Narinya into her
office and gave the girl an entire speech about having to be her best
self. Narinya was a rebel. And she was fond of her short hair. It was
way easier to dry. The other candidates had their hair up in ponytails
with silver rings around them.
The nuns refused to show their hair, a legend existed about Sister
Daria having hair so long it reached her ankles. However, no one
ever saw that because the sister lived in celibacy. Narinya tried to
figure it out. Was there long hair under the nun’s austere head
wrap?
No matter if beautiful or plain, the girls’ DNA would be tested and
the decision rested in the potential for a match with a Dragon shifter.
What would happen after that remained a mystery for the girls. They
were forbidden to discuss it. The Sisters of the Needle, Friends of
the Dragon Shifters, called that a passage ritual.
Just ten would be selected for the team of Dragon riders. The other
five, the ones less likely to be a genetic match, could become sisters
themselves, a part of the ruling class, and either teach other young
girls or learn about and research genetics with the Dragons. Or they
could opt for a so-called normal life. They could find a job in the city
and get married. If the remaining girls decided to become part of
the Sisters of the Needle, then the road to love was closed. The
Sisters of the Needle refused emotional binds and attachments. They
would bear children but then give them away to be adopted by
human families. To the Sisters, only the DNA counted.
All the girls would begin training with the nuns at the age twelve.
The boys would stay with their families and learn to become
productive members of the community. That was the law, part of the
deal that allowed the humans to stay in The Floating City of Caves.
As the Dragons were the only defense against the threat of the
Shadow creatures, it was crucial to breed Dragon Shifter children.
Every person in the Floating City of Caves had a clearly defined
function. Nothing was random. This was why The Floating City of
Caves ran like clockwork.
Karask had a series of phenomenon that humans called anomalies.
Again, it depended upon what you compared them with. Pieces of
the planet where broken and floated at a high altitude. The Floating
City of Caves was once a cave formation that now floated freely over
the Deep Bitter Lake. The water had a way of keeping the Shadows
away. No one knew exactly how or why they couldn’t, or wouldn’t,
cross the Deep Bitter Lake and attack the Floating City of Caves,
home of the Dragons. They wouldn’t. This is how The Floating City
of Caves became the last stronghold.

Human females were forbidden to fall in love with anyone before

they got through the process of selection. Being separated from the
boys at the age of twelve, their education was conducted by The
Sisters of the Needle, the name originally taken by an order of nuns
from the old Earth. They had little to do with any type of religious
worshipping. Once outcast Catholic nuns, these sisters were more
interested in cracking the secrets of human DNA than worshipping a
divinity. Their entire dedication was towards encrypting the secrets
of creation. The Sisters refused any type of emotional connection
that could distract them from their own work. They refused the idea
of love and lived austere lives dedicated to science. A young woman
that became a Sister of the Needle would get a double helix tattoo
on her forehead, a sign that symbolized pride to be a researcher.
When the Sisters left old Earth, their destination was Karask. The
jungle planet with its incredibly diverse and highly poisonous fauna
and flora created fascinating genetical anomalies. The Sisters where
eager to research it and to find new drugs that could improve the
human condition and race. They were devoted to a strict regime of
study, work, and the development of fighting techniques. They
would have children if their own DNA would be a perfect match with
a potential male. But there was no attachment with to the children.
It was forbidden.
As for the Dragons, most people were frightened of the men who
could turn at will into huge, fire-spitting, flying beasts. When the
Sisters of the Needle first made contact with the Dragon Shifters, a
beautiful friendship based on a mutual curiosity and love for science
evolved. The Dragons colonized an area of the floating caves long
before the humans touched the surface. They built a modern,
organic, and self-sustainable city they called The Floating City of
Caves.
The Dragon shifters faced one problem. After moving to Karask, the
females of their species aged rapidly and died while the powers of
the male dragons increased along with their lifespan. The Sisters of
the Needle offered to help the Dragons solve the problem of
offspring. In human form, the Dragon males looked handsome. Tall,
broad shoulders, and all towering over seven feet. An alliance
between the Dragon Shifters and humans was created and the two
species lived in peace until the Shadows attacked the planet. The
Shadows caught the humans off guard and the Dragon Shifters were
the only ones that came to help. The humans where defeated and
the Shadows took some of the glass domed cities from them. The
survivors found refuge in the Floating City of Caves.
The humans who left Earth hundreds of years ago had found new
homes all over the universe. The former blue planet was now a
radioactive stone left empty to float in space. Earth was dead, but
the human race was very much alive. On Karask, one of the colonist
groups flourished, building a new civilization in harmony with the
jungle planet until darkness took over. Hundreds of cities that
existed under glass domes were emptied of life. So many things
changed since the first human colonists made a home out of the
jungle planet Karask.
Being a Candidate was the highest honor. Becoming selected was
what every young woman dreamed of. Human females were not
allowed to fall in love with anyone before they got through the
process of selection. Their hearts and bodies must remain untainted.
Dragon Shifters were strong, their energy fire became lethal to the
Shadow creatures, but only if they were pared with a human female
they loved and that saw them as soulmate. This is how the process
of selection began. The survivors discovered that a person who loves
and is loved by a Dragon could not be absorbed by the Shadows,
ensuring their safety and making the fire of the Dragons that much
stronger. The only real human/Dragon couple that ever existed, the
invincible Brianna and her dragon mate Thah’dor, had been formed
by chance in a time of need. After thirty years of fighting, they
disappeared. There was no proof that they had been captured by
the Shadows.
The soul mate union was ideal. Human females left the floating oasis
city each year on the back of Dragon Shifters, hoping that the
connection between them would build and that love would develop.
Still, contrary to plans, they were not able to have offspring. The
Dragon legends said the fusion between a Dragon and another race
must be complete, body and soul, the blood and energy of the
person becoming toxic to the Shadow creatures, making it
impossible for them to absorb them. A human that best genetically
matched a Dragon Shifter would be selected as a potential mate.
Everyone hoped that the two would fall in love to be shielded from
the Shadow creatures. Being a perfect union was ideal. Still, having
a Dragon on your side improved the odds tremendously.
Forging an alliance with the last Dragon Shifter, couples of humans
and dragons had a chance to regain Karask and fight back the
Shadows.
 2

S ister Daria kept talking.

The flora and fauna of Karask. Blah, Blah, Blah. That’s poison. That
can kill you. Don’t eat that. Don’t breathe that in.
Sure, the surface of the planet was dangerous. Everyone knew that.
The humans lived above the Deep Bitter Lake in the Floating City of
Caves. The surviving Dragon Shifters were glad to offer the humans
shelter at that moment of need.
Narinya was fascinated by the human cities that existed on the
surface. Some had been abandoned. She wanted to see how her
civilization lived before they all hid in the floating fortress.
Narinya was also frustrated by all the limitations she had to endure,
particularly being separated from boys until they had taken the DNA
connection test with the Dragon Shifters. The test was highly
mysterious. The Dragon rulers wanted to find the perfect match that
would ensure the survival of their species. Dragons where on the
brink of extinction, but so were humans.
Narinya tried to follow the boring lesson of Sister Daria, only there
was something about the nun that bothered her badly. The Sisters of
the Needle were a rather mysterious order. They came from old
Earth and became stronger on Karask as they specialized in poisons,
genetics, and physical and psychological evolution. The Sisters
stored all genetic information from all the families that colonized
Karask, the official explanation being this way they can advise
against bad connections that would lead to children who were sick.
After the Dragon Shifters offered them asylum, the surviving people
were willing to do about anything to be allowed to stay.
“Narinya, are you honoring us with your mental presence, too?”
Sister Daria always looked dry, like a raisin floating in oatmeal.
Narinya looked up from her chair to the green cladded nun.
“Sorry, Sister. I’m worried about the selection rituals.”
Narinya expected to get the long, boring lecture from the skinny nun
with pink eyes, only this time Sister Daria looked at her with some
clemency.
“You girls are as prepared as possible. If you are a possible match
for our honored Dragon Shifter, then your DNA will show that.
There’s nothing else you can do. If you are not selected, you will get
other jobs in our glorious society.”
Narinya was happy the nun didn’t make her stand on one leg for the
rest of the class or something horrible like that. Sister Daria was very
inventive with her punishment, as Narinya had found out.
The nuns really gave the girls the best possible training. Each of
them were able to control their bodies, being experts in a series of
martial arts, including an effective technique that the nuns
developed for the planet. Not only that, they knew everything that
there was to know about the plants and wildlife on Karask. The girls
were good fighters, had organized minds, and had been trained to
act under pressure.
The boys got another training. And stayed with their families. They
were educated in practical aspects of life, technology, and
agriculture.
The girls lived in a separate wing of the Floating City of Caves under
the close scrutiny of the nuns. No impropriety was allowed.
However, Narinya was not one to obey the rules. She wanted out of
here.
After classes, Narinya and her best friend Dianeira went for a
training session at the gym. It was a welcome relief for the stress
they both felt day in day out. Nothing relaxes you better than getting
your ass kicked or kicking someone else’s.
The two girls where absolute opposites and all the nuns were
surprised that they were such good friends. Since being separated
from their families at age twelve, the tall blonde beauty and the
small brunette became inseparable. If you looked for Narinya you
knew that Dia will be close by. Dianeira was miss perfect, only she
was so nice it was impossible not to like her. She was sweet and
caring. Dianeira won the genetic jackpot. She was tall, athletic, with
a beautiful even face and golden blond hair framing a soft, olive
colored face that highlighted her green eyes.
Narinya was cute on her best days. She loved her best friend but,
next to her, she felt ordinary. Narinya kept her dark hair short
because she didn’t want to bother with it. It was her own small
rebellion. Cutting your hair was not forbidden, but it was frowned
upon. Who cared about beauty? She wanted more. Adventure. Fun.
Even so, having a baby shifter should have been the highest
achievement she could hope and wish for.
Dianeira was less focused today than usually.
“What’s up?” Narinya asked her best friend.
The perfect beauty Dianeira had a secret. She was in love. That was
strictly forbidden. If someone found out, it would mean exile for her
lover and she would be excluded from selection. Dia would probably
be assigned outside to supervise the crops, a nasty job, where she
would have to fight with the fist-sized insects that plagued the
harvest. There was nothing fun in wearing a fire-proof, full body suit
all day and burning insects with flamethrowers.
“I have to see Mauro tonight. I’ll say goodbye and make sure he
doesn’t do anything stupid.” Mauro was human and worked as a
technician. Somehow, he snuck into Dianeira’s heart. He saw her
once in the corridor and found ways to sneak her small love letters
until, one day, Dia agreed to meet him in the upper gardens, just to
talk. Four months later, Mauro was the only thing Dia talked about,
him and the mating selection.
Dianeira was again worried about everything.
“Sis, you and Mauro have this thing going and you stress about him.
Where’s the joy?”
“My heart melts and hurts when I am close to him.”
“You melt because you guys meet in the maintenance room. It’s
warm there.”
“You know we can’t go to his room. Someone could see me.”
“So, did you guys…. You know?” Narinya winked at Dia.
Many of the girls where scared of the idea of mating and being
intimate with a Dragon Shifter. They were all tall men, at least seven
feet in height, with very imposing physiques even in human form.
The Sisters didn’t tell them anything about the sexual aspect of the
relationship. They assured the girls that when it comes to mating,
they will find out everything that there is to know. The girls asked
themselves often how the practical aspect of love making would be,
with a dragon, or a human. Dia and Narinya had found a book about
human mating in one of the nun’s private collections and devoured
it. Narinya, who was fascinated by the spicy literature from old
Earth, managed to trade in a few credits for books from the old
planet. She read Balzac, Tolstoy, and a lot of romance novels that
had beautiful women on the cover who swooned in the arms of
muscular, gorgeous men. Those books were forbidden for the
candidates. Their mind should stay pure.
“Hm, must be interesting.” Narinya was theoretical and well prepared
for whatever happened.
Dianeira looked at her and rolled her eyes. “Well, he wanted to, but
you know the requirements.”
“Yes, they want us to be Virgins.”
“Yup. And I won’t be elected either way, so I have a shot with
Mauro.”
Narinya didn’t know what to say. Dianeira was beautiful and perfect.
She was the best hope for a match with a Dragon Shifter for their
generation. If Dia doesn’t make it, who will?
Narinya didn’t ever consider she would ever be selected. She was
not at all perfect. The mirror in the gym showed her what she
already knew. There was nothing special about her. She was short –
five feet two inches – and looked weird most of the time, her skin
being way too pale. The only thing that was striking about her was
the set of deep blue eyes that lit up when she smiled.
The girls warmed up and started soft sparing.
“Rya, I do need to see Mauro tonight,” Dia said while choking
Narinya. “Can you cover for me?”
Narinya shifted her weight and tried to execute a projection with the
much stronger Dia. She rammed her elbow in Dia’s midsection and
put her down.
“Say please,” teased Narinya while on top of Dia.
Dia flashed her a smile. “Pleeeeaseeeee,”
“You know I can’t say no to you.”
The girls exercised for another hour before retreating to their room.
Dia and Narinya shared a room over the last six years. There was
not much they didn’t knew about each another. They held each
other to help them forget how much they missed their mothers.
Then, later, they snuck out together to the top level of the
observation point to look at the green golden sky of the day and the
violet-black sky at night. They saw the Dragons for the first time
together.
Dia called dibs on the shower and ran inside the bathroom to get
ready for her meeting with Mauro.
“Rya, please.” Dia was the only that called her Rya. The nickname
developed when they were both sad as young girls and cried and,
instead of saying Narinya, Dia called her Rya.
Candidates in their senior year should wear long white robes in
public, but Rya had managed to trade and get a pair of jeans and a
t-shirt for Dia so that it was easier for her to move through the other
levels of the cave city.
Rya loved her best friend like a sister but watching Dia fall for Mauro
and being in love made her feel a bit envious. It was the glow Dia
had. Rya was sure she would never fall in love. Except….
Two year ago, she and Dia snuck around town dressed in normal
clothes to see how the other people lived. When dressed in the long
robes, people would know who they were and kept their distance. In
addition, walking through the town was forbidden for the
candidates. Even the families where discouraged of keeping in touch
with their daughters. The girls were sixteen at the time and made a
mad run down a corridor to hide from whomever was there. They
found a door unlocked and hid behind it. They could not close the
door because they thought that the nuns might walk down the
hallway and the click of a closing door would be loud for the trained
ears of the Sisters of the Needle, so they left the door open a crack.
Dia hid. Rya looked because she was always curious. And there he
was, one of the Dragons. He was tall, his head was clean shaven
and he had an air of sadness about him. When he was close to the
door, the corners of his mouth twitched a bit as if was suppressing a
smile. Rya was sure that he saw her and that he looked into her
eyes for a second before passing.
That moment. That Dragon.
Rya often saw his soft brown eyes in her dreams.
In the complex, the Dragons were easy to spot, being tall with clean
shaven heads. They would wear capes over their shoulders. Humans
started the rumors that they had small wings on their back even
when in human form. Rya often asked herself if they shaved their
heads or if they could not grow hair. They were always impeccably
dressed and very aloof, not really mingling with humans. And they
were all male. The only humans they talked to on a regular basis
where those damn, boring nuns of The Sisters of the Needle.
“Dia.” Rya entered the bathroom and watched her best friend do her
hair. “If we get matched with a dragon, what will we talk to them
about?”
Dia turned her head, looking confused.
“I mean, we should try to fall in love with our match, right? And to
fall in love we should be able to share our souls.”
Dia smiled. “I think they want us to be horny.” She laughed.
“You slut. What do you talk about with Mauro?”
Dia looked confused again.
“You say you love him.”
“We never have time to talk for long. He loves my hair and my lips
and my neck. And I love the way if feels when he presses his body
against mine and kisses me.”
“But that’s lust, not love,” Rya mumbled under her breath.
“Sis, cover for me. I’ll go lust a bit, probably for the last time if I get
picked.”
Dia left.
Rya entered the shower and wanted to enjoy the hot water, but the
cold splashed over her body woke her up. She showered fast, dried
up, and went to bed with a book. The book was a story from old
Earth. Since she saw the Dragon, that Dragon two years ago, she
could not forget him. Mr. D’Arcy from the old story looked exactly
like him. And was very much in love Elizabeth Bennett.
Rya was upset with herself because she was being ridiculous. The
Dragons lived for hundreds of years. He probably forgot about her.
What was a young candidate to a creature that lived for centuries
and could breathe fire? Maybe he would remember Dia. Only the
tattoo on the back of his neck was what she knew she would
remember. She hoped he was part of the ceremony. A phoenix bird
that was surrounded by fire.
 3

D ia was always excited to see Mauro. He made her feel alive. Yet
something about today bothered her. She thought about what
Rya had said. Was she in love? What did she know about Mauro,
except the fact that he was hot and made her knees weak?
As Dia snuck around side corridors and took forbidden staircases
that she and Rya had discovered, she considered this. Part of her
was sure she would be a dragon match and wouldn’t see Mauro
again. The sadness and bittersweet pain were part of their
connection. She hadn’t really considered that she and Mauro would
be wed and become a real couple. If she turned out not to be a
match, she would be free to marry whomever she wants. If you
were not genetically interesting for the breeding program, the nuns
gave you free reign. Even if they wanted her to carry a baby from a
particular man, after that she would be free to do whatever she
wanted.
Mauro never talked about the future with her. That nagged on Dia
ever since Rya’s talk about love, deep conversation, and soul mates.
She was near the boiler room where they usually met in. Mauro was
a technician. A hot one. The man was in his late twenties and had
the build of an ancient god. Hot Hades.
Thanks to her training, Dia was able to approach him without him
hearing her. He was this tall man with dark skin. Strong muscles
glistened under the sweaty oily skin that was smudged with dirt from
work. His long hair was pulled together in a ponytail. She loved his
hair. It was like a curtain of darkness.
Mauro was closing a valve and watching the pressure and
temperature in the boiler room. Dia slid behind him and touched his
shoulder with her cool palm. Mauro turned around fast.
“You scared me, beautiful,” he said while wrapping his arms around
her and lifting her. Dia loved his scent, it was a mix of machine oil
and man.
“I didn’t know it was possible to scare a big, strong man like you.”
Mauro pulled her into a hug. They kissed. That was Dia’s favorite
part of their meeting. The kissing. That man could make her feel like
soft, melted chocolate. Mauro’s fingers trailed on her back, finding
the place where her shirt was tucked into the jeans. He touched the
exposed skin. Now his hand was under her shirt and she was
delighted by the intimate contact.
Mauro guided Dia towards a bed in the adjacent room, a resting
room for the night shift technician. It was more like a small cot with
grey bedding, not a romantic place.
“Dia, I want to be with you now.” Mauro purred into her ear as she
sat on his lap. One of his hands was between her legs, massaging
the apex of her tights through her jeans. The other was holding her
close to him, giving Dia a feeling of safety. The waves of heat that
built up inside her made her want that as well. Damn, the selection
ceremony!
She could sense lust and hunger in his voice.
“My selection is next week.” She hesitated. “If I’m chosen, I have to
be a virgin.”
Dia felt doubt. She needed to hear the right words from Mauro’s
delicious, full lips. Arrogance dominated his face.
“And if you are not, who cares?” Mauro nibbled her neck, hoping he
could convince her.
“No!” Dia pushed him away. She lusted for him, but she also
believed the first time should be meaningful and special, maybe
even with someone you love.
“If I get selected, I have to try to connect with the dragon. And I
must be one hundred percent honest to my mate.”
“Those dragons are old as dirt. Do you really think he cares about
some girl that was picked for him by a crystal? They can get as
much booty as they want.”
Dia was becoming more and more enraged, and her sweet-as-honey
voice changed from a purr to a snarl. Was Rya right? She had to
clear things with Mauro.
“I hope that I won’t be a match. That way I can be with you after all
this is over. Be together. Start a family. You know.” Dia smiled her
sweetest smile to Mauro.
“Dia, baby, you know I’m absolutely crazy about you.”
Dia pulled back from his embrace. That sounded bad.
“You know that, right? Only if you are not chosen, we still can’t be
together.” Mauro looked almost guilty.
Dia felt her insides turn to ice. She could barely suppress the shiver
in her voice. “Why not? I can pick a job in the structure, put my
training to good use, and then we can be married. Start a family,
have beautiful babies with your eyes.”
Mauro smiled, only his eyes held a predatory stare. “Wow. Dia, love,
don’t you hurry this. You and I were just, you know…. It was fun. I
never made you such promises.”
“But you said you loved me. You said I’m your light.”
“Yes, you are. And I do love to be with you. I love your body. But…
we don’t have a future. Not this way.” Mauro tried to get closer to
Dia. “I’m married.”
Dia slapped Mauro.
Hard.
He put the hand on his cheek, looking guilty.
“All those months I risked getting caught to meet you, and you
never considered telling me this? You asshole!”
Mauro looked calm, not at all as affected as she was. “Babe, we had
fun. You had a kick out of being a bad girl. This is what you girls
like, to play with the bad boy, right?”
“You are such a pig. My feelings for you were real, and all you did
was play me.”
“Oh, come on. It’s not as if a princess like you would really get
married with a lowly tech man like me. You keep your legs crossed
for your cold-blooded dragon, frigid bitch!”
This time Dia hit him full in the family jewels.
With her foot.
Mauro dropped to his knees, holding his balls in shock.
“This frigid princess says you can go and fuck yourself.” Dia flipped
him off as she walked away. She could feel herself shattering in a
thousand pieces, only she refused to give him the satisfaction of
seeing her cry. She’ll cry when she’s in her room, safe, and only Rya
can see her. Sisters had no secrets.
While Dia got her heart broken by Mauro, Rya dreamt of her cool,
mysterious dragon with the tattoos on the back of his skull. The
tattoo of the beautiful and fierce Phoenix surrounded by fire. She
always found the idea fascinating they can make tattoos appear on
their skin at will. It was another talent that made them even more
mysterious.

Walking back to the level of the cage city that hosted the bedrooms
of the Candidates, Dia started to remember more and more details
about Mauro that bothered her. Small things he had said, things she
hadn’t considered important at the time but appeared different now.
She realized he just wanted an adventure with her.
How could she be so dumb? So stupid?
I am stupid, thought the beautiful Dia.
She snuck inside the room she shared with Rya, hoping that her best
friend was awake because she needed to talk. Rya woke as soon as
Dia sat down on her bed.
“Hey sweetie. How was your date?” asked a sleepy Rya with her
eyes still closed.
Dia had a monologue prepared, but now all she could do was sob.
Rya’s sleep evaporated. She jumped up and left her bed, sat on her
friend’s bed, and hugged her.
“What’s wrong, sweetie? I know you’ll miss him.” Rya didn’t know
what to say. She thought her best friend was heartbroken because
she would be part of the selection ceremony. “Mauro will wait for
you, you’ll see. You guys will be together.”
Dia tried to say something through her sobs. “F… F… F… Fuck Mauro!
He lied.” Dia’s beautiful face was red and wet with tears.
“He what?”
“Mauro is m….”
“Mauro is what, sweetie?” Rya hugged Dia. Something was wrong.
Her friend left to meet her boyfriend in the best mood and returned
crying. Dia never cried. Even when they spent the first days in the
big community dorm, Dia never cried while Rya cried her soul out.
She missed her mom and her dad, she hurt because she knew that
she wasn’t allowed back home. But now, Dia cried. And sobbed. Rya
was not used to see her soul sister, her best friend, so devastated.
“Breathe in and out.”
They began the calming exercise they had learned from the Sisters
of the Needle. After a few minutes, Dia’s sobs calmed. Her breathing
returned to normal, although her eyes held a deep sadness.
“Would you like to tell me what happened?”
“You were right, Rya. Mauro doesn’t love me. All he wanted was to
sleep with me. Everything was a game for him. The asshole is
married!”
Rya had no idea what to say. “He was married, like all the time?”
“Yes.”
“And he pursued you, knowing that you would put yourself at high
risk because of him?”
“Yes. He’s a jerk. I don’t want to see him ever again. I don’t want to
hear his name. I don’t want to think about him. I’ve had enough of
love!! I’ll focus on my mission and, if I’m not selected as a mate, I
will join The Sisters of the Needle and live celibate.”
“My heart hurts for you, sweetie.” Once Dia was calm. Rya said, “I’m
going back to bed. I recommend you do the same. We have a long
day tomorrow.”
Dia tried to focus on sleeping. She did the breathing exercises meant
to calm her and help her sleep.
Rya, however, could not sleep. She was heartbroken for Dia. Dia had
the kindest heart and that asshat hurt her so badly. Rya had no
experience with romance or heartbreak. She asked herself if being
hurt would change Dia forever.

In the morning, Rya felt hungover. Her head hummed and her
stomach was upset.

Dia was already done in the bathroom. When she opened the door,
she looked like a fresh daisy.
“Hey sleepy,” called Dia. “We have to hurry if we want to catch some
breakfast before class.”
“Mmmm,” was the only noise Rya was capable doing.
Coffee was very rare here and grew in a climate-controlled
greenhouse, but the silver dandelion tea they served could wake up
the dead.
Both girls quickly dressed in their elegant white robes.
Rya wanted to ask Dia about last night, but other younger
candidates were around. She looked into her best friend’s eyes. “You
okay?”
Dia looked at her plate. “I will be “
The classes passed without incident. They had only three more days
left until the selection ceremony. The fifteen girls who were eighteen
would spend their time meditating and learning. They were granted
permission to walk the beautiful gardens on the upper floor and
were expected to mingle with the other citizen during the last day
before the selection. The normals watched them with deep
veneration. Some would try to touch their pure white robes for good
luck. Parents would bring their babies to be close to the girls’ energy.
The last day before the selection ceremony was reserved for
meditation. The girls were supposed to stay in their rooms and
prepare mentally.
Sister Daria insisted that the girls take their meals in their rooms and
remain as silent as possible.

Rya
My stomach was in my throat the last few days before the ceremony.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted. A part of me hoped that I would be
mated to the arrogant Dragon with the Phoenix tattoo. Another part
of me wanted to be left alone.
As I lay in bed, I looked at the ceiling. How much fun would it be to
fly? Dia and I had snuck to the observation point on the upper level
and watched the Dragons take off. I still don’t understand how they
switch so fast. They are incredibly impressive. Their mates jumped
onto their backs and the couple would fly away. What happens if you
fall off a Dragon’s back?
And why do I see my dragon as Mr. D’Arcy? He can’t be Mr. D’Arcy
and, if he is, then who the fuck am I? Elizabeth or the annoying
chick who wants to get married. If I’m picked as his mate, I’m
almost certain that he would think that I’m not pretty enough. Could
I live knowing that the Dragon shifter I am in love with thinks badly
of me or resents me? He has kind eyes, only his smile displays a
cool, calm arrogance. He deserves someone beautiful, like Dia! On
the other hand, I have no idea if he’ll be one of the Dragons taking
part in this year’s ceremony.
What if he has a mate?
What if he loves her?
I saw detachment in his eye, but there is a warm heart under all
those layers of cold. I would love to hold his hand and make his
heart open for me.
I see myself again in the mirror. Fuck, I should have been more
careful with my looks. It’s too late now. There’s nothing I can do.

On the day of the ceremony, pure white robes with a red sash
crossing their chest were prepared in the sacred room. The girls that
just entered their last year of training helped the Candidates change
into them. It was a ritual. The Sisters of the Needle made sure
everything happened beautifully and with an air of deep reverence.
The girls needed to feel important.
All fifteen girls sat on elegant chairs. Each of them was named by
the Mother Superior and received a diploma for their achievements.
From these girls, just ten were potential mates. Dia and Rya sat on
chairs next to each other. They would have held hands to encourage
each other, only a huge audience watched the ceremony.
Two names had already been called. The selected girls stood next to
the Mother Superior. The leader of the Sisters, Mother Superior was
a rather young-looking woman in her early fifties. She had been
chosen based on her scientific abilities. Rumors made the rounds
that she was not in her late fifties and could change her body
chemistry with help of the plants from Karask. In truth, Mother
Superior Barbara was in her late eighties. She looked kindly towards
the girls.
The five who were the least viable matches would be picked up by
other nuns and ushered behind the scenes.
Three more girls where named, making a total of five selected so far.
Rya didn’t know if she clenched her fists so hard on the side of the
chair because she wanted to be picked or hoped to slide into
anonymity again. It was very confusing. Time stretched and
contracted around her. Was she rooting for Dia? Was becoming a
mate really a better future? What else was there? This was probably
her only chance for adventure.
“Narinya.”
Rya thought she heard her name but was not certain. She looked
up. Six other candidates stood in line in front of her.
“Narinya,” came the voice of the Mother Superior, a bit firmer this
time.
Rya jumped up from her chair and almost stumbled over her own
feet. She was the seventh girl selected to be a potential mate. She
tried her best to stand tall and calm, pressing her fingernails into the
soft flesh of the palm.
Oh my God, I made it. I’ll fly on the back of a Dragon. I’ll be out
there, free!
Rya had no time to turn her head and look at her best friend when
she heard the Mother Superior call the next name.
“Dianeira.”
Dia floated next to Rya. They touched their fingers. The girls were
tied together in a close, sisterly bound. There was no one else Rya
wanted out there with her more than Dia. She was happy now. If
Dia made it, she’d forget about that douchebag Mauro.
Rya was still upset with Mauro. Someone should teach him a lesson.
She would have reported him, only she was afraid that it would have
consequences for Dia, and the last thing Dia needed was extra
trouble.
The last two girls to be chosen joined them in line. The girls looked
elegant, wearing their long white robes with the crimson red sashes
diagonally over their chest. Dia had styled her long hair in a high,
elegant ponytail with silver rings holding it together. Rya couldn’t do
much to her short brown hair. She had been tempted to add a touch
of make-up, but then thought why bother? All the girls were
encouraged to look their best. Rya was being a rebel again.
Rya noticed she was the shortest of the girls picked.

The girls’ biological families came to hug them. They didn’t display
much emotion because the girls had no connection to those people.
Rya studied her mom. She still remembered a beautiful face with
eyes sparkling with intelligence. The hard work in the fields had
aged her mother before her time. She looked dull, like a once
beautiful sword that had been used to chop crops instead of taking
lives.
Rya was introduced to younger siblings she did not know she had
because her mother had remarried. These kids, as well as her
mother, were strangers to her. Nothing else. She accepted the hugs
but was eager to leave.
The ceremony was to be continued in the heart room of the Floating
City of Caves without spectators.
 4

T he heart of The Floating City of Caves was ancient – a cave at

the bottom of the floating city. The cave had no floor, allowing a
view of Deep Bitter Lake below. A platform floated in the center of
the cave. How was it able to float? The girls stood as far as possible
from the edge. Only Rya moved as close as possible and peered
down. This was so cool. Rya had never seen the lake because the
Candidates were protected and not allowed outside the Floating City
of Caves.
Her behavior caused Sister Daria to frown.
The cave was illuminated from different angles, bathing each girl in
a different color. Narinya loved the blue that surrounded her and
moved along with her.
Older Dragons not part of this year’s mating selection stood in an
open circle along the back of the cave. The huge, irregularly shaped
crystal changed colors and vibrated with power and energy. Mother
Superior Barbara was there, close to D’Aragthor, the leader of both
the city and the Dragons.
D’Aragthor looked as if his entire face was carved from sharp angles.
He was tall, like all the other shifters, with a clean-shaven head and
a strong muscular physique. Rumors placed him at a thousand years
old, but he looked no older than his late forties. His eyes had a
particularly warm shade of brown mixed with gold, which
complimented the robe of precious Aragosta wool he wore.
Aragostas were birds whose bodies were covered in wool comprised
of all the colors of the rainbow. The wool was a special thing of
beauty. A garment made from Aragosta wool had the ability to
change colors.
D’Aragthor’s voice sounded calming, reassuring, and strong.
“Each year, my brothers and I welcome you, the Chosen Ones, into
our minds. We seek to create the perfect fusion between human and
Dragons, the ultimate superior being that is a result of love and will
be able to withstand the Shadows and their threat. I am honored to
welcome you, Chosen Ones! Your journey was long. I am looking
forward to see what the heart, the Crystal of Souls, will choose for
you.”
Rya looked around trying to see which Dragons would be taking part
in the mating selection. The other girls kept their eyes on the floor.
Why would they? It was the most important day in their lives. Rya
wanted to see everything, to experience all life had to offer. Her
palms sweated with excitement.
“My Dragon brothers are happy and excited to meet their potential
mate!”
Just like that, on cue, a battle scream of a Dragon Shifter entered
the cave from outside. It was a strong, powerful cry. The first of the
Dragon Shifters flew in through the opening in the floor. He was a
magnificent beast in shades of green, brown, and gold. The girls had
never seen the Dragons so close. Rya was shocked by its size. It
passed behind a podium and a perfectly handsome, seven-foot-tall
man appeared. Her crush! The Dragon with the Phoenix tattoo.

D’Arcygthor
Why did I allow my brother Blood to convince me to be part of this?
This selection process is utter nonsense. We put on a show. Each of
us flies into the Room of Crystals and give the girls a bit of a
spectacle. This was not my idea. I am more for a dignified approach.
I would rather have tea with my potential, explain to her that I am a
busy man, and make sure she will receive her freedom once the year
is over. Even the idea of having a female human inside my
apartment bothers me.
I enjoy being alone.
Maybe an incredible beauty could tempt me to give her more of my
attention, but none of these girls has that spark.
Oh, well. Maybe one does. There is a girl my brother Blood obsesses
over. I do not believe she is much of a beauty. I have seen her
somewhere before. Her eyes make my Dragon flame burn hotter. It
is nothing that I cannot conquer. I will not act like a love-sick puppy
for a human girl.
I see her. Her eyes are the purest blue and she gazes into mine.
A Dragon was never so close to her and, while the other girls look
down, she holds my gaze. I could open my huge maw and swallow
her she is so petite. She has curly dark hair and a mouth made for
kissing.
Oh, by all the God’s, old and new, I can barely step behind the
crystal and put my robe on when I shift to human. My human heart
beats like crazy, my mouth is dry, and my predatory instincts are
awakened. I want her. I feel this need to grab her and take her
inside my cave to make love to her for days.
Get a grip on yourself. You do not know who the crystal will pick for
you!
The Dragon Leader kept talking as the other nine Dragons appeared,
one by one, from the outside. When all the Dragons had shifted into
human form and were clad in a long crimson robe, the opening
around the crystal closed.
“During the next week, each of the new couples will work together
as best as possible to reach a state of bliss. “
Rya studied her Dragon, focusing on the beautiful, soft brown eyes
and the twitch of a smile around the corner of his mouth. Please, let
it be him. Rya didn’t know his name, but her body vibrated, hoping
she would get the chance to be with him. She was blind to the other
Dragons. She wanted only the brown one with green spots.
Dia kept her eyes averted, playing coy.
D’Aragthor explained that the crystal would pick a girl and call her,
then the light that shone on her would also shine on her potential
soul mate Dragon Shifter.
Rya could not take her eyes off the tall Dragon Shifter with the soft
brown eyes. He was not the tallest or the most handsome of the ten
Dragons wearing crimson robes. Some had incredible eyes in the
colors of jewels, like amethyst or sapphire. She noticed a beautiful
Dragon with wild red eyes. They all had bald heads. Tattoos
emerged from under the collars of their robes and ran along their
faces and scalps. Some had their faces partially covered in tattoos.
The Dragons could imagine a picture or a feeling and it would be
painted on their human form. They also had the power to change
those tattoos. Rya would have loved to see all those handsome guys
naked, just to look at the tattoos.
The crystal matched two girls from her class with Dragons. A cute
red head named Raisa, who always joked and helped the other girls
if needed, was matched to a handsome devil called Favreau. A
skinny blond that always envied Dia for her beauty was pared with a
Dragon whose name Rya didn’t catch and who had his face covered
in tattoos. The Dragons seemed pleased with the matching. Each
took the hand of his mate and stood in line with her.
New formed couples, greeting and hugging each other. It dawned on
Rya that this was like a wedding. No, this was a wedding ceremony.
She would soon be married to a Dragon Shifter.
The pulsating crystal that dominated the room changed color again.
It called out Dianeira. Rya was nervous for her best friend. Hopefully,
she would get a Dragon she liked, one who would be nice and treat
her well. Rumors abounded about the behavior of the Dragons and
their arrogance.
Rya decided to name her brown-eyed crush Mr. D’Arcy. In absence of
a better name, it seemed most fitting. Wasn’t this situation like the
ball in Netherfield? The Dragons were the aristocracy and the girls
were the offerings.
Mr. D’Arcy was looking at Rya, probably because she was the
shortest girl in the selection and next to her stood her drop dead
gorgeous best friend. Her heart jumped and thudded in her chest.
No, I won’t be intimidated by him, she told herself. He was not the
best looking from the Dragon crowd, yet he was the only one she
had eyes for.
Dia made her way towards the crystal. She touched its surface with
both open palms, the way D’Aragthor taught them. Her heart was
open. A pleasant, warm flow of energy circulated through Dia’s body,
making her feel giddy and light. Dia was bathed in a beautiful green
light. Her light shone on….
Rya’s eyes teared up.
No!
Noo!
Her best friend’s match was her Mr. Darcy.
“Dianeira, meet D’Arcygthor,” said the high leader of the Floating City
of Caves.

D’Arcygthor
When the Crystal called my name and paired me to this other girl,
my first instinct was to shift and fly away. I felt like a hesitant child.
The odds where definitely not in my favor. Why would the Crystal
think I would care about this one when my heart was already
smitten with the adorable brunette? I could see the brunette’s eyes
open wide. Did she feel the same way? Was there a connection
between us? I hoped I was the only one to suffer from a broken
heart. How did all this happen? I entered this hall calm and
composed and now my soul is crushed.
D’Arcygthor did his best to look calm.

No, no, no.

Even his name was so close to D’Arcy. Oh well.
Rya’s eyes lowered toward the floor. A heavy rock landed in the pit
of her stomach. It was not that she knew him, or that she was not
hoping the best for her best friend, but somewhere in her heart she
thought….
It doesn’t matter. She tried to pick herself up.
Before stepping toward Dia, D’Arcygthor looked one more time to
Rya. Was he wishfully thinking of her? Did she imagine his eyes and
a soft, sad smile directed at her?
Dia was the most beautiful girl from the selection of Candidates. He
should be happy. He made an incredible catch. Still, Rya could not
avoid the feeling that her heart bled inwardly for the loss of a feeling
she would never get the chance to know.
When her name was called, Rya stepped toward the crystal.
It felt cold to the touch, but the cool surface sent pleasant vibes to
her, as if she touched something cold and warm at the same time.
An extremely enjoyable sensation. Her mate was Thranadon, the
crimson-red eyed Dragon. Thranadon had been the only other
Dragon she had noticed because his skin was fire red. In his original
Dragon form, he looked like a blaze from the sun. Fuck. He was the
best looking one. The poor guy had gotten a bad deal.
Thranadon stepped towards Rya with a grace impossible to achieve
for a human. He took her hand, bent low, and kissed the surface of
her small hand, lingering just a second too long.
“I am pleased it is you,” he said, and there was a flame in his deep,
crimson-red eyes.
Something about her Dragon gave Rya a good feeling.
When the other couples came to congratulate them, Dia whispered
into Rya’s ear, “You won the jackpot.”
Was it possible for Rya to tell Dia that she doesn’t feel like a winner
at all, that she was miserable and would have gladly traded her
handsome Dragon for the one at Dia’s side?
When all ten couples had been matched, a Ceremony of Promises
was held. The leader made each couple to promise to protect one
another, to work together as a group, and do their best to protect
the Floating City of Caves from the threat of the Shadows.
For the rest of the day, the couples where free to move around town
and spend time together. The girls were expected to move into the
Dragons’ quarters. Sister Daria appeared to let them know they
would find their personal belongings and their new battle and
training uniforms in their mates’ rooms.
 5

T he Dragons lived separately from the humans on the top floor of

the Floating City of Caves. Most of the time, the Shifters kept to
themselves.
The surviving humans lived and worked in the city. They had
adapted the city for their own needs. The Dragons kept only a few
places closed. A council was elected by the humans that ruled the
city together with the Dragon leader.
The Dragons proved invaluable when it came to every activity
connected to the surface of the planet. Most humans wouldn’t
survive a jump from the height the city floated at until down to the
Deep Bitter Lake. There was a system that allowed the humans to
slide down to a deck anchored beneath the city. However, Deep
Bitter Lake was home to some dreadfully dangerous creatures. The
best way to leave the Floating City of Caves was on the back of a
Dragon. Being incredibly strong and fast, the Dragons were true
opponents for the Shadows. Still, like most humans, Rya had no idea
who or what exactly the Shadows were. The Sisters of the Needle
filtered the amount of information they shared with the population.
Not even the Candidates could get anything out of them. When one
of the girls asked, the Sisters of the Needle would reply that the
Shadows were otherworldly creatures that lived on energy. No form,
drawing, or record about them existed.
Rya and Dia thought the Shadows were conveniently forgotten by
the humans. Generations were born and lived in the Floating City of
Caves with no ambition or aspiration to ever leave. Rya always had
questions. How was it that humans here on Karask didn’t try to get
in touch with other colonists from nearby planets? Why was there
not an army of people being trained instead of only fifteen girls each
year? The answers were mostly lacking. So, at some point, Rya
decided to stop getting herself in trouble by asking and conducted
her own research. By cracking the codes to a few of the Sisters
personal computers, her and Dia gained access to information
otherwise hidden from them. The available information was not
clear. Some of the terms used where in a foreign language, others
outdated.
Rya looked forward to having a Dragon mate and being able to share
those thoughts with him. Sadly, she was not happy with the pairing
and her senses told her to be careful around Cherry Eye. Yes, she
gave him a horrible nickname, but she could not help herself.
She studied Cherry Eye. His movements were not only confident. He
was full of himself, while D’Arcy seemed sweet and interested in
making Dia as comfortable as possible. The Dragons took the hands
of the girls and made their way towards the wing of The Floating
City of Caves reserved for their kind.
Rya’s mind went blank. She kept staring at the back of Darcy’s neck.
The wonderful Phoenix moved with his every action. He was telling
Dia something that made her giggle. Rya hated the feeling of envy
that grew inside her with every breath she took. She hated being
envious of her best friend. Cherry Eye said something she didn’t
hear. Or just ignored.

D’Arcygthor
As I took the arm of the young woman who was selected as my
mate, as was expected from me, I asked her name. The silly
creature giggled as if I had said something so amusing. Please gods,
be by my side!
The wonderful soul I feel connected to is now mate to my best
friend, my brother Blood. Fuck, fuck, fuck! In my mind, I am holding
her hand, I am taking her to my place to get to know her better. By
the Gods, old and new, how I envy Blood!

When they arrived on the large corridor that looked like it was from
a beautiful European castle, with crystal chandeliers and elegant wall
scones, Cherry Eye stopped in front of a door. The door was tall and
ivory white, with battle scenes engraved on the shiny surface.
Everything in the Dragons’ quarter was larger because it was made
to accommodate the larger size of the men living there, and the
possibility that they might have to shift to their dragon form.
“We are here.” Thranadon pressed his palm on a flat crystal surface.
“Please register your palm print.”
Rya did as her mate asked.
The door clicked open.
“Welcome,” said the Dragon. “If you allow, I will give you a small
tour of the place.”
Thranadon showed her a pretty bedroom that was elegantly
furnished in shades of beige and grey. Fine lines and muted colors
ruled the apartment. It was grand. Her own bedroom had a large
bed, a nightstand on each side, and a walk-in closet. A vanity with a
tall chair made of sculpted wood stood next to it. The wood in the
room was reddish beige in color, a rare species called jihoun wood.
Jihoun wood could change color and shape according to the mood of
the user.
“This is your bedroom. Please, feel free to decorate it and change it
the way you want. A bathroom connects to it.”
Thranadon showed her the kitchen, a pretty living room, and his
own private bedroom. His bedroom had trinkets and art on the walls.
His bedcover was deep red.
Rya looked at him.
“I thought we are supposed to spend as much time together as
possible.”
“Yes, but I think it’s important to each of us to have a little privacy
until we get comfortable with each other. In the meantime, you must
be hungry. Would you like to share a meal with me?”
“Yes, sure. I could eat.”
“I took the liberty to order food from the kitchen staff. Just let me
heat it up.”
Rya followed Thranadon into the kitchen. She should start thinking
of him by using his name. Damn, this was so awkward.
“Will you use your fire on it?”
What kind of stupid question was that? God, Rya was embarrassed.
She wished the floor would split open and swallow her whole. He
probably thinks she’s a moron.
Thranadon smiled. “If I would do that, I would burn down the
kitchen. I will pick a more traditional version.” He pointed toward a
food heating device powered with the flower of light. Most devices
used the flowers as their energy source. “But if you want to see my
fire, you will have the occasion soon enough.”
Thranadon smiled a full tooth smile.
They took the plates of hot, steamy food that smelled delicious into
the living room. Thranadon had two plates prepared. They both had
delicious steamed bird, steak, and an array of vegetables that made
Narinya’s mouth water. She wasn’t a big eater, but this looked so
delicious. Thranadon poured Rya a glass of a blue, shiny liquid.
“This is Dragon wine. It is safe for humans. Try some if you like.”
Rya sniffed it. It held the scent of berries and open fields, smelling
like the gardens. She took a small sip.
“Woa!”
“It carries a punch,” said Thranadon with a smile.
Rya felt self-conscious in his presence. He looked so perfect, and he
had manners and tried his best to make her comfortable.
“Do you have questions?”
“Yes, I have one million questions but I’m afraid that this Dragon
wine drowned them all. It’s my first time drinking alcohol.”
“We have a few days to relax and get comfortable. I will tell you a
bit about me if you want.”
Rya was happy to be able to dig into the yummy food. The bird meat
tasted spicy and sweet at the same time. She took another sip of
blue Dragon wine. And another. Thranadon started to look cloudy.
Maybe the room would stop spinning if she ate a bit more. She
found that she was ravenous after the first bite. She vaguely
remembered eating something the day before.
“As you know, my name is Thranadon. I am three hundred and fifty
years old, which makes me a rather young Dragon. My friends call
me Blood.” He pointed towards his eyes. “My eye color is rather rare
and I am the only living Dragon Shifter with red eyes. You can call
me Blood, too, if you want. But I am afraid that calling me so will
not give you warm feelings. As you could feel my hand, I am warm
in human form. A little bit warmer than your species. It is the
contained fire. It burns harder.”
“Did you have a mate before?”
Thranadon looked down. “Yes, I did. Long ago. I failed her.
Narinya….” He stopped and leaned over the table, his red eyes close
to her, and took both of her hands in his. “I will not fail you! I will
give my life before allowing anything to happen to you.”
“Call me Rya! “
Rya felt confident and a little bit stupid as she had just eaten a
mouthful of food and could only nod. She felt she should
acknowledge this in another, deeper way.
The calm demeanor and smile returned to Blood’s face.
“You don’t have tattoos. Is it true that you Dragons can get them
just by using your emotions?”
“Yes, it is. And I have tattoos, only they are not on my face. Would
you like to see them?”
Rya could not refuse. Intimacy was expected. She can’t shy away
from seeing him... naked. A lump formed in her throat and she
washed it down with more of the yummy wine.
Thranadon stood and disrobed with a short motion. He wore a pair
of shorts, thank God, but the shorts were so tight they left little to
the imagination. Narinya decided to start thinking of him as Blood.
Being friends should be the first step toward becoming lovers.
Don’t look, be cool, thought Narinya. Blood could barely suppress a
big smile. He didn’t want to embarrass her even more. She was
awkwardly uncomfortable as it was. He could feel her heartbeat
racing. She amused him. He found her intriguing when he had
examined her files and had hoped to be matched with her. She was
cute, not beautiful, but she had… something.
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 This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United
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Title: Moral social

apreciación de Hostos

Author: Eugenio María de Hostos

Contributor: Rufino Blanco-Fombona

Release date: February 27, 2024 [eBook #73064]

Language: Spanish

Original publication: Madrid: Editorial-América, 1917

Credits: Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed

Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file
was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORAL

SOCIAL ***
Transcriber’s Note:
New original cover art included with this eBook is
granted to the public domain.
 BIBLIOTECA DE CIENCIAS POLÍTICAS Y SOCIALES

EUGENIO MARÍA DE HOSTOS

PROFESOR DE SOCIOLOGÍA EN LA REPÚBLICA DOMINICANA Y DE DERECHO CONSTITUCIONAL EN
LA UNIVERSIDAD DE SANTIAGO DE CHILE
 Moral Social

Apreciación de Hostos, por R. BLANCO-

FOMBONA

EDITORIAL-AMÉRICA
MADRID

CONCESIONARIA EXCLUSIVA PARA LA VENTA:

SOCIEDAD ESPAÑOLA DE LIBRERÍA
FERRAZ, 25
 EDITORIAL-AMÉRICA

Director: R. BLANCO-FOMBONA
PUBLICACIONES:

Biblioteca Andrés Bello (literatura).

II

Biblioteca Ayacucho (historia).

III

Biblioteca de Ciencias políticas y sociales.

IV

Biblioteca de la Juventud hispano-americana.

Biblioteca de obras varias.

De venta en todas las buenas librerías de España y América.

Imprenta de Juan Pueyo, Luna, 29, teléf. 14–30.—Madrid.

 MORAL SOCIAL

Publicaciones de la EDITORIAL-AMÉRICA
BIBLIOTECA DE CIENCIAS POLÍTICAS Y SOCIALES
Obras de los más ilustres prosistas americanos.
 SE HAN PUBLICADO:
I.—Orestes Ferrara:
Profesor de Derecho público en la
Universidad de la Habana.
II.—Alejandro Álvarez:
Consultor del ministerio (chileno) de
Relaciones Exteriores.
III.—Julio C. Salas:
Profesor de Sociología en la
Universidad de Mérida (Venezuela).
IV.—Carlos Pereyra:
Profesor de Sociología en la
Universidad de México y Miembro
del tribunal permanente de Arbitraje,
de La Haya.
V.—José de la Vega:
Miembro del Centro de Historia, de
Cartagena (Colombia.)
VI.—M. de Oliveira Lima:
De la Academia brasilera.
VII.—Ángel César Rivas:
De la Academia de la Historia, de
Venezuela.
VIII.—José Gil Fortoul:
De la Academia de la Historia, de
Venezuela.
IX.—José M. Ramos Mejía:
Presidente del Consejo Nacional de
Educación en la República Argentina.
X.—Pedro M. Arcaya:
Miembro de la Academia de la
Historia, de Venezuela, y Ministro de
Relaciones Interiores.
XI–XII.—J. D. Monsalve:
Miembro de número de la Academia
de Historia, de Colombia.
XIII.—Fernando Ortíz:
Profesor de Derecho público en la
Universidad de la Habana.
La guerra europea. Causas y
pretextos.—Precio: 3,50 pesetas.
La diplomacia de Chile durante la
emancipación y la sociedad
internacional americana.—Precio:
3,50 ptas.
Etnología é Historia de Tierra-
Firme. (Venezuela y Colombia.)—
Precio: 4 pesetas.
El Mito de Monroe.—Precio: 4,50
ptas.
La Federación en Colombia.—
Precio: 3,50 pesetas.
La Evolución histórica de la
América Latina.—Precio: 3,50
pesetas.
Ensayos de historia política y
diplomática.—Precio: 4 pesetas.
El hombre y la historia. (Ensayo de
Sociología venezolana.)—Precio: 3
ptas.
Rosas y el Doctor Francia. (Estudios
psiquiátricos.)—Precio: 3,50
pesetas.
Estudios de sociología venezolana.—
Precio: 4 pesetas.
El ideal político del libertador Simón
Bolívar.—Dos gruesos vols. á 4,75
cada uno.
Los negros brujos. (Apuntes para un
estudio de Etnología criminal.)—
Precio: 4,50 pesetas.
XIV.—José Nicolás Matienzo.: El Gobierno Representativo Federal
Profesor en las Universidades de en la República Argentina.—
Buenos Aires y la Plata. Precio: 5 pesetas.
XV.—Eugenio María de Hostos: Moral Social.
Profesor de Sociología en la
República Dominicana y de Derecho
Constitucional en la Universidad de
Santiago de Chile.
DE VENTA EN TODAS LAS LIBRERÍAS DE ESPAÑA Y AMÉRICA
 BIBLIOTECA DE CIENCIAS POLÍTICAS Y SOCIALES

EUGENIO MARÍA DE HOSTOS

PROFESOR DE SOCIOLOGÍA EN LA REPÚBLICA DOMINICANA Y DE DERECHO CONSTITUCIONAL EN
LA UNIVERSIDAD DE SANTIAGO DE CHILE

Moral Social

Apreciación de Hostos, por R. BLANCO-

FOMBONA

EDITORIAL-AMÉRICA
MADRID

CONCESIONARIA EXCLUSIVA PARA LA VENTA:

SOCIEDAD ESPAÑOLA DE LIBRERÍA
FERRAZ, 25
 EUGENIO MARÍA DE HOSTOS

(1839–1903)

HOSTOS, FIGURA REPRESENTATIVA

El nombre de Eugenio María de Hostos nunca fué muy popular en

América. ¿Por qué? Porque no lo repiquetean consonantes de
villancicos, sino que repercute en la región de las ideas, menos
frecuentada que aquella otra región donde el vulgo se extasía en la
música de fútiles rimas, de rimas que, naturalmente, nada tienen que
hacer con el Parnaso y que horrorizarían á las Piérides.
Aunque fué maestro, porque tuvo qué enseñar, no lo siguen
parvadas intonsas y bullangueras de discípulos. Los leones andan
solos. Los leones son raros hasta en África. Como en América no
existen semejantes cuadrúpedos crinados, ¿qué mucho que ignore el
vulgo á ese león de Borinquén, espécimen desacostumbrado, y que lo
tome, á lo sumo, por un gato montés?
Pero el nombre de Eugenio María de Hostos, aunque no muy
difundido, aunque conservado en penumbra, como el nombre de
Cecilio Acosta, sirve hoy á la América pensadora, como el nombre de
Cecilio Acosta, de valiosísimo adorno. Ambos nombres deben
también servirle de orgullo. Ambos nombres pertenecen á
ciudadanos íntegros, á paladines del ideal, á caballeros sin miedo y
sin tacha, á escritores de primera línea, á pensadores de primera
fuerza, á hombres buenos, á personajes de diez y ocho quilates.
El nombre de Eugenio María de Hostos y el nombre de Cecilio
Acosta bastarían para enseñar á esta Europa que nos denigra y á esos
yanquis que nos calumnian, cómo la América no es sólo fragua de
revoluciones, ni palenque de motines, ni paraíso de especuladores
políticos criollos y ladrones comerciales del extranjero.
Verán, por obra de ambos ejemplos, que en medio de los alborotos
democráticos y gestatores de sociedades todavía sin coherencia ni
sanción, entre politiqueros sin escrúpulos, comerciantes sin decoro y
arrivistas sin pudor, hubo, en la América del siglo XIX, virtudes
eminentes, apóstoles encendidos, sabios auténticos, artistas de oro
puro, directores de opinión incorruptibles, varones de consagración,
vidas de cristal, hombres dignos del mármol.
Verán, tanto los yanquis como los europeos, que en el torbellino de
una América en formación, de donde surgen, improvisados, pueblos,
instituciones, fortunas, surgen también lentos, pétreos, luminosos,
esos hombres que hacen el papel de montañas. Y advertirán, ya que
tienen ojos y si saben y quieren ver, que desde la cima de esas
montañas, en medio de la pampa rasa y los ríos en ebullición, se
columbra un vasto horizonte...
 II

HOSTOS ROMPE CON ESPAÑA

Hostos vivió sesenta y cuatro años. Nació en una de las Antillas en

1839 y murió en otra de las Antillas en 1903.
Como nació en Puerto Rico cuando Puerto Rico pertenecía á
España, y como nieto de español españolizante, fué enviado á
educarse en la Península desde los trece años. Se levantó en las
Universidades de la madre patria. Sus condiscípulos fueron hombres
que iban á llenar buenas páginas de la historia española y á figurar
en los Congresos, en los Ministerios, en el Ejército, en la Prensa.
¿Empleó Hostos su influencia con figuras y figurones de la política
para medrar? ¿La empleó para ascender á posiciones del Estado, á
que lo llamaban sus méritos? No. La empleó para acordarse de que
había nacido en América. La empleó para pedir la independencia de
Cuba y Puerto Rico. Pero ningún pueblo se amputa voluntario.
Hostos confundió el empeño de la unidad nacional ó posesional de
España, patriótica y razonable en sí, con intransigencias de la
Monarquía. Desiluso, conspiró contra el Trono y á favor de la
República española con Castelar, con Salmerón, con Pi y Margall.
«Primero soy español que republicano», exclamó Castelar cuando,
ya presidente de la República española, Hostos y algunos
republicanos de la Península instaron sobre independencia para
Cuba.
Desiluso de nuevo, aquel apóstol de libertad se convenció de que la
independencia no se mendiga, sino se merece, y, si se puede, se
conquista.
Era en 1868. Abandonó á Madrid, negándose á aceptar una curul
en el Congreso español. Fué á la capciosa Nueva York y se consagró
en alma y vida á la revolución cubana, recién prendida por Céspedes.
Pero no se alejó de Madrid sin agotar sus esfuerzos y sin luchar con
el león á brazo partido, en el mismo antro de la hermosa fiera
dorada. Aquel «Hostos, talentudo y corajudo», de que habla Galdós
en alguno de sus Episodios Nacionales donde evoca, si no recuerdo
mal, el destronamiento y platanazo de Isabel II, luchó su última
lucha en la tribuna española y dijo donde podían oirlo, en el Ateneo
de Madrid, valientes verdades.

«Señores: Las colonias españolas están hoy en un momento crítico. Víctimas de

un despotismo tradicional, una y mil veces engañadas—¡engañadas!, señores, lo
repito—, no pueden, no deben seguir sometidas á la unidad absurda que les ha
impedido ser lo que debieran ser, que les prohibe vivir.»

Basta. Por la zarpa se conoce el león; y por la audacia convencida y

la sed de justicia, y por aquellas palabras que lo divorciaban para
siempre de la madre patria, á Hostos. Rompiendo con España
rompía con sus amigos, rompía con sus valedores, rompía con sus
ambiciones, rompía con su juventud, rompía con su porvenir. Hostos
no vaciló.
 III

HOSTOS COMIENZA SU ODISEA BENEFACTORA

Al pie de esa tribuna del Ateneo español empezó la odisea de este

Ulises hambriento de ideales. Esa odisea no terminó sino al caer
Hostos, exánime, en el hoyo de la tumba.
De Madrid sale para Nueva York. De Nueva York, desde donde ha
difundido por la Prensa sus libertadoras ideas, se embarca, dos años
después, para Cuba, que arde en guerra y en anhelos de libertad. Va á
pagar su tributo de sangre, va á dar el ejemplo de Martí, va á regar
con sus venas su idea. El mar lo salva: naufraga.
Partiendo del principio boliviano de que América, nuestra
América, es úna aunque en fragmentos, y que esa América úna y
múltiple debe ser solidaria de todas y cada cual de sus partes;
pensando, como Bolívar, que á la solidaridad de 1810 debe América
el sér y que se perderá ó se salvará conjuntamente, el joven tribuno
de Madrid, el periodista independiente de Nueva York, el náufrago
de Cuba, se convierte en legado voluntario de la revolución Antillana
y se va por toda la América latina predicándola, rediviviendo el
ejemplo de aquellos monjes exaltados y convencidos que se iban por
Europa preconizando la necesidad de las cruzadas.
Fué de país en país. No tenía dinero: escribió, peroró, trabajó,
ganó la vida. Las puertas se le cerraban en las narices. Los miopes no
veían. Los Rivadavia de entonces, los Santander de entonces, los
Páez de entonces, no alcanzaban otro horizonte sino el que se divisa
desde los campanarios de sus natales aldeas respectivas. ¡No
importa! Hostos continúa su prédica. ¡Cerca de cuatro años duró
aquella cruzada de la libertad!
Este es uno de los genuinos caballeros del ideal. Recuerda á Colón,
implorando de corte en corte el apoyo que le falta para realizar el
sueño más grande que hubo en cabeza humana, si es verdad que el
descubrir un mundo ignoto y presentido fué el sueño de Colón.
Recuerda á Miranda, mendigando también de corte en corte apoyo
para sus quimeras libertadoras. Es, en verdad, como dijo Michelet de
Miranda, un Don Quijote de la libertad. En 1872 está en Santiago de
Cuba, en 1873 en Brasil, en Buenos Aires; en 1876 en Nueva York, en
1877 en Caracas, donde se casa, en 1879 en Santo Domingo.
Y por donde va, va haciendo bien. Un día llega al Perú: aquel
apóstol de la dignidad humana abre campaña á favor de los
emigrados chinos, sumergidos en esclavitud por los criollos. Otro día
llega á las Repúblicas del Plata: aquel apóstol del progreso proclama
el primero en la República Argentina la importancia del ferrocarril
trasandino. El reconocimiento le rinde homenaje: la primera
locomotora que escala los Andes lleva por nombre «Eugenio María
de Hostos». Otro día va á Chile: aquel apóstol de la igualdad aboga
por que se abran las carreras científicas á la mujer. Por Cuba y
Puerto Rico escribe, viaja, perora, combate, se multiplica.
Fué durante su vida entera un benefactor de América. Llevó en
América de país en país la luz de la enseñanza, como en Grecia llevó
Homero, de villa en villa, la luz del canto. En Venezuela comienza á
difundir, en el colegio de Soteldo, lo que aprendió en España, lo que
la vida y el cotidiano estudio le fueron enseñando. Es profesor de
Derecho constitucional, por una serie de años, en la Universidad de
Santiago de Chile; por otra serie de años es profesor de Sociología,
Derecho internacional y Derecho penal en la República Dominicana.
Y cuando no enseña desde la cátedra, enseña desde la Prensa ó por
medio del libro. Y su mejor enseñanza la dió viviendo una vida pura,
austera, de deposición, de sabiduría, de bondad, de utilidad, de
amor.
 IV

HOSTOS, MAESTRO

Hostos, hombre múltiple en la producción y los conocimientos, es

filósofo, moralista, sociólogo, tratadista de Derecho constitucional,
de Derecho penal, de Derecho de gentes. Es también crítico literario
y novelador. Es además maestro.
Considerémoslo por algunos de tan varios aspectos.
Como maestro puede decirse que la cátedra fué para Hostos otro
vehículo de su pensamiento, nueva forma de producción. Algunos de
sus libros, y no de los menos profundos, fueron la enseñanza oral, la
palabra y el espíritu vivificantes del profesor, cogidos al vuelo y
escritos, no quiero decir redactados, según el prospecto, la
metodología de Hostos, por discípulos de talento, de gratitud y
devoción. Hostos se parece á Bello en que desechando métodos
viejos y textos ajenos, inició á varias generaciones en la ciencia, por
medio directo, transfundiendo su espíritu en obras personales. No es
lo común ni en Oxford, ni en Bonn, ni en París, ni en Salamanca, ni
menos en centros universitarios de Hispano-América, que
pensadores iniciales, mentes primarias, hombres que hayan sabido
arrancar á la esfinge una parcela ó varias parcelas de secreto y
verdad, ejerzan el profesorado. Ejercen el profesorado por lo común
hombres muy beneméritos, pero muy adocenados, repetidores de
ciencia ajena, que son depósitos, no pozos artesianos. On peut être
professeur et avoir beaucoup de talent, podría decirse parodiando
una frase cáustica. Un Hæckel, un Renán en Europa; un Bello, un
Hostos en América, son excepciones. Por eso dejan rastros de luz, y
el calor de sus espíritus se difunde en el tiempo.
Cuando parte de la Tierra, en el mes de Noviembre, se envuelve en
pasajera onda cálida y uno mira desprenderse como lluvia de oro,
fina lluvia de estrellas errantes y vertientes, las Leonidas, es porque
la Tierra tropieza en su viaje con un antiguo cometa desagregado.
Hæckel, Renán, Bello, Hostos, son también antiguos cometas. El
calor de su espíritu se difunde, no en el espacio sino en el tiempo.
Sus discípulos, su pensamiento, sus obras, que de cuando en cuando
topamos en nuestro camino, resplandecen como lluvia de estrellas.
Hostos no se limitó á enseñar lo que él mismo aprendiera;
enseñaba lo que tenía por dentro, lo que el estudio hacía fructificar.
Daba sus propios frutos. Fué como Sarmiento, un educador; pero
con más preparación científica que Sarmiento, con más disciplinas
intelectuales y con más equilibrio y profundidad de espíritu. Además,
la preocupación de Sarmiento, fué la de enseñar á leer á la Argentina;
la de Hostos, la de enseñar á pensar á la América. En las obras de
Sarmiento chispea un talento de diamante. Hay adivinaciones
magníficas. Hay aciertos geniales. Pero al relámpago precede y sigue
la obscuridad. Se advierte que aquella súbita luz brota del cerebro
como de un choque de piedras; no es una claridad constante de
antorcha. Hay deficiencias; principalmente de cultura. Aquel hombre
lo aprendió todo por sí y á la carrera. No supo nada bien, ni á fondo.
Supo, sí, ver ciertos aspectos sociales como son. No embotó su juicio
americano con el criterio de libros europeos; ni remedó
constantemente, para hablar de nosotros, el hablar de otros hombres
respecto de otros pueblos. Aun cuando se inspiró á veces más de lo
que hubiera sido menester, en algún autor extranjero, Sarmiento,
por lo general, bebió en su vaso, que no era pequeño. Supo ver y
hablar. Esa es su gloria. Por ello es talento autóctono, virgíneo.
Hostos le es superior en cuanto pensador, lógico y moralista, con
la ventaja, además, de una base escolar, en el sentido inglés de la
palabra, de que Sarmiento careció. Hostos no es repetidor vulgar, ni
acomodador hábil de lo ajeno, ni abrillantador de piedras opacas, ni
chalán que engorda con arsénico el cuartago que va á vender. No.
Hostos es pensador original y auténtico. Él conoce los problemas
sociales é institucionales de América. En vez de criticarlos grosso
modo, los descoyunta y analiza. Y cien veces arroja luces nuevas. Y
cien veces presenta un nuevo aspecto de las cosas ó asoma nueva
idea. Su acierto y novedad son constantes. En él no existen las
intermitencias de Sarmiento. Su claridad es la del sol. Y los eclipses,
como se sabe, no son frecuentes. Mientras Sarmiento arriba á la