Sylas continued looking into the skies long after the answer came to him, the Scorpion heart beating steadily above his palm while his thoughts moved far beyond it. If he was going to rebuild the foundation of his Race rather than merely improve what he already possessed, there were only two concepts he had encountered that felt worthy of becoming the pillars of that path.
Dragon and Phoenix.
The choice was so ridiculous that Sylas almost dismissed it on principle, not because either concept lacked power, but because he understood their problems better than most. Rhykan had already crippled portions of his future by building too deeply into paths with restrictions he couldn't simply ignore, yet Sylas was considering shackling himself to two things that might be worse.
Dragons weren't real in the ordinary sense. They were products of Dead Will and collective belief, a ceiling given shape by generations of minds that could continuously move the instant anyone approached it.
