Dawn of Cobalt Shadows (Burning Empire Book 2) by Emma Hamm (best e ink reader for manga .txt) 📕

“At first, we worked together with them. They were kind, and they were generous. They wanted our help, and we wanted to help them as well.”

Aslaug nodded at a man with a spear in his hand.

“And then they weren’t.The first war between Beastkin and man came shortly after their arrival. They had no need for us anymore, once they had settled onto the lands and wanted more for themselves. They didn't want powerful creatures who could easily kill them in their sleep around their children and their wives.

“We fought for years, and then things died down when we retreated to the mountains. Let the men have the lands we had built. We could do it again.”

She pointed at a particular figure. A golden dragon flying above all the others.

“She was still alive then. Amunet, the first dragon and the mother of all. It was her choice to leave, her choice to take all the others and bring them here where the old ways could still remain. Some of the Beastkin stayed in the lands who did not want them. Most came with us. There was safety in numbers, and our numbers were growing smaller. The age of man had arrived. And sadly, that meant the age of the Beastkin was over.”

Tears burned behind Sigrid’s eyes. It was sad to think that all these people had fought for, the lives they had struggled to build, were all for nothing. They’d disappeared into the mountains, never to be heard from again by their family and their friends.

She cleared her throat, “If most went to the mountains, how did so many end up with the humans? Were those the ones who decided to stay?”

Aslaug shook her head and brought her farther down the great mural. “The Bymerians stayed. Those were the ones who didn’t want to make the trek to the mountains, and I cannot blame them for that. It’s understandable that times become rather difficult in these moments.

“The Beastkin in Wildewyn are a different sort. We struggled here, much like you are struggling with your people. Eventually, a group of holy men and women left the mountain and returned to the Earthen Folk who so hated them.”

Sigrid could see it now. The many masked Beastkin who had made the long trek down the mountain. They were all painted in dark colors, their faces obscured by masks, like Eivor’s.

“They were medicine men?” she asked. “Why do they wear masks?”

“They are like the one who brought you here. Soulkeepers and stealers of hearts. No one can look upon their face without losing their souls. It is the way of it.”

“So the masks…” Sigrid’s words trailed off, her heart thumping in her chest and anger making her eyes burn. “They came from you?”

“The masks were a way to show the highest of honors to the Beastkin men and women who wore them. Those who walk the path of the holy do not turn into one animal, but as many as the spirits they hold.”

“Then how did my people end up the way they did?”

Aslaug pointed to the last painting on the wall. “The Beastkin dedicated themselves to helping the humans. Those who left were certain there was good in the people who had forsaken us for so long. They wanted to show the humans what we could do. That we could be something more than just the animals they thought we were.

“It didn’t work. The longer they stayed in the human realm, the more they gave and gave. Eventually, they were nothing more than beasts of burden, too exhausted to remember the old ways and too tired to teach the younglings.

“They lost all that made them holy. Bit by bit, they began to change into only one animal, the one they were born with, the one passed down from their mother’s mother.”

Sigrid watched the paintings blur as tears gathered in her eyes. She refused to let them fall. She didn't want to seem weak in front of the matriarch but… this couldn’t be right. It couldn’t be possible that they were such a strong people, such powerful men and women, and that had been beaten down by the blunt tool that was human.

“Then what?” Sigrid asked, her voice thick with unexpressed emotion. “What happened after that?”

Aslaug pointed to the next piece of the painting. “Amunet cried. She cried so much that she used the air itself to express her sadness, draining all the water from Bymere and flooding Wildewyn until there was nothing left of the kingdom. The Beastkin forgot who they were entirely, but they kept the masks in hopes that it would help them remember who they were.

“The masks have never been a trap as so many of your people think. They were never meant to hold you in a cage as they did. It was our gift to all of you, a way for you to come home to all of us who waited for those who were strong enough to endure.” Aslaug turned and touched a hand to Sigrid’s shoulder. “For you to come home to us.”

Sigrid couldn’t think with all this information going through her head. How did one even hear her own voice when a thousand others were screaming in her mind? This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right.

She was so exhausted. She’d traveled across half the world to get here, only to be told that her entire history was built on the back of labor and mistreatment.

That she’d been wrong, and so many others of her kin had been right.

“Then,” she whispered, licking her lips and trying to strengthen her voice, “everything I have done is for nothing? The humans do deserve the war which is brewing at their doorstep. They deserve the Beastkin to rise up, because they took everything from us so long ago?”

Aslaug’s brows furrowed and she squeezed Sigrid’s shoulder tight. “No, dragoness. That is not what you are meant to understand