Corrupted: An Epic Dragons and Immortals Romantic Fantasy (Fallen Emrys Chronicles Book 1) E.E. Everly (best biographies to read .TXT) 📖

all fine, but the emrys weren’t as perfect as they thought they were. Perfect people wouldn’t snub their noses at another plane of life. Perfect people wouldn’t believe they were better than another species. I pondered the stories from my youth. The mortals died because they were evil. They killed because a darkness hid inside them. They envied because they set themselves above one another.

I didn’t see a difference in the last one. The emrys set themselves on a pedestal. Immortals created in our master’s image. Almost faultless. Righteous guardians. We could do no wrong.

Then I read Siana’s story—a story the elders tried to hide about an emrys, Urien and Anwen’s daughter, granddaughter of the High Emrys. Siana left Gorlassar over two thousand five hundred years before I was born. She’d felt the unrest. She had questioned as I had. The immortals’ indifference burdened her. The emrys species had been young, without the extravagances I was used to, but even after fourteen hundred and ninety-nine years, Siana saw how almost a couple of hundred immortals were not like the Creator, how uncaring they were and too regal to fight for any worthy cause.

What was the point of living when we were all the same? Not having strife, not having meaningful trials, sicknesses, and infirmities. Where was the joy in that? How could a person understand and truly experience joy if he or she didn’t experience suffering?

The questions drove deep into my soul. The thoughts didn’t leave me. I used Aneirin as an excuse to thrust myself from the gallant presence of those I loved, to seek for more fulfillment among the mundane.

I shook the water off my hair, wrung it out, and twisted the long strands around and around and draped the cluster over my bosom.

I had met an exquisitely mundane crowd.

And I loved it.

Adventure. Discovery. Simplicity over the most commonplace things. These people worked to survive. These people toiled for a living. And they were happy, though a bit vulgar.

Seren stiffened. We’re not alone. Your mortal plaything is trying to sneak up on us.

I squeaked and sank under the water up to my chin. I told Owein not to follow me! Immediately I was grateful for Seren’s cover. I pushed through the water to the edge of her wing and peeked out. Owein’s approach was to her back so her night vision was useless.

“It’s no use sneaking around. I know you’re there,” I said.

“Is that because Seren can smell me? I bathed, honestly.”

“It’s because you breathe like a dog,” Seren said. “And you stepped on a twig about thirty paces back.”

Owein laughed. “I’ll hold my breath and swing from the trees as I’m sneaking through the woods next time.”

“I can’t see where you are. Come out of hiding.” I squinted into the trees exactly as Owein stepped out from behind a rock.

Owein locked eyes with me. “How in all of Bryn are you still in the creek? You’ve lost feeling in your limbs, haven’t you?”

Oops.

No point in denying it. You heated his bath water and speed-cleaned his clothing, Seren said.

“Turn around so I can come out and dress. In fact, go back to that rock. No peeking. I’ll know if you do,” I said.

Owein covered his eyes before ducking out of sight. “I just knew that since you have a dragon and came from another world, you’d have gifts. Thanks for the hot water, by the way. Had to show off, didn’t you? That’s some ability. What is it, an affinity for heat?”

I shook myself off and zapped myself dry. I pulled my clean clothes on, constantly glancing in Owein’s direction to make sure he was behaving. “Not exactly an affinity for heat. All right, you can come out.”

Owein eyed me up and down. “It looks as though your limbs are still attached and functional. You were in there for—”

“Oh, maybe half an hour.”

Owein whistled. “That’s phenomenal.”

I shrugged.

He tapped his chin. “What other secrets do you have?”

I finger-combed my hair while smiling slyly. “You’ll just have to wait to find out.”

TEN

The festival was huge. From across the highlands and as far as the lowlands, subjects had flocked to Cynwrig. Owein steered the company away from Talfryn’s capital city—whose walls and houses appeared to bulge from the city’s seams, threatening to topple down the hillside—and brought us to its outskirts. Tents and stalls spread out before us, forming neat rows. Bright banners and streamers hung from one side of the street to the other.

Oh, Seren. This is spectacular. Have you ever seen anything like it? I peered this way and that, snooping into every single booth with my dragon sight so Seren didn’t miss a detail.

We passed a stall of piping-hot meat pies. I inhaled deeply.

Seren sighed. Is that venison pie? You must bring me half a dozen of them tonight.

The aroma of baked apples and cinnamon spice wafted to me as I watched a baker pull pastries from an oven. Thoughts of home accosted me. Mother made divine breads with such enticing scents. Heavenly.

I tried not to lose my caravan as it made its way to various assigned booths, but my eyes lingered on colorful scarves waving in the breeze. I stroked my fingers over the fabric of a purple and pink one. Silk. I eyed the price. I didn’t know what 15z meant or how it related to the prices of items in Gorlassar.

From a distance, Owein called me. Even though I lagged behind while I browsed, I picked up a bumpy yellow and green squash and turned it in my palms. We didn’t have this one in Gorlassar.

Owein spoke unexpectedly behind me. “You have all week to shop.”

I jumped. “Owein!” I shoved him playfully. “I can’t help it. So much to see. I don’t think a