March 12, 2025 Sneak Peek at Master of Destiny

 Introduction:

This blog features random scenes from works in progress within the Draoithe Saga by Ophelia Kee. These works are primarily urban fantasy and paranormal romance with magical realism, dark themes, and fated mates sprinkled throughout. Here you will find scenes which are yet to be published as of the time of posting, and these chapters may require further editing. It's a look behind the curtain, a sneak peek if you will, at scenes from stories Ophelia Kee is currently drafting. 

If you want polished complete stories, this is not the right place. But if you enjoy bits and bobs of things yet to come, won't fall in love with a rough version, and want a taste of the dream before the magic coalesces, then you have found the spot. 

March 12, 2025 Sneak Peek at Master of Destiny

Warning:

This is a work in progress and is subject to change at any time.

Read at Your Own Risk!

Copyright 2025

All Rights Reserved.

Honor And Privilege

L’anse, Early June 2021

The deep silence slowly filled with quiet sounds. Ageless darkness held a faint light, and the unending nightmare of the loss of everything suddenly ceased. He left the long, unwanted slumber behind. Diamond dust erupted around him when he moved and shattered the stone which had held him imprisoned.

Unused muscles relaxed from the stiffness of long sleep as he stepped gingerly with shaky paws along the stone ledge. As he peered into the darkness of the cave, the sleep spell disintegrated by layers.

L'anse breathed. He blinked, attempting to recall how he found himself in the cave. Disjointed images and jumbled memories surfaced in confusion. He frowned and peered thoughtfully at his surroundings.

Low-level phosphorescence from bioluminescent lichen offered him a glimpse of his underground location. The sounds of water from stalactites on the cave ceiling slowly dripping to form stalagmites rising from the cave floor like dangerous prison bars all around him caused him to notice the cold and the dampness in the near dark. 

L'anse didn't enjoy caves. His magic held the cold and damp at bay. It was other magic, which crept along unbidden, that he dreaded. Danger crawled around in caves from other realms. Demons and angels surveyed them and met with the Spirit Realm creatures by passing through the portals hidden within them. 

It didn’t matter anymore. He no longer needed to serve. The fight lay in the past. He’d bought his freedom long ago with that last battle. Then he remembered what happened.

Betrayal ached in his soul. The realm of the lesser gods no longer existed as it once had. Lucifer's spell condemned the Velosians. Mortals ruled in the Leaindeail, overpopulating the dream. What if it meant he'd lost all chance of finding his mate again?

Magic older than time crawled beneath smoky, glass-like, darkly golden-hued scales, belying his memories. It was a summons to serve once more. The prickling sensation crawled up his forearms and caused his wings to shiver. A Velosian god strode the forest in need of a dragon to aid him. Things had changed while he slept, but not all had altered.

Still, no. No way. Not again! No more service. 

L'anse wanted only the Aralezes princess who belonged to him. The ancient debt needed payment. If she existed, she would be enough. She was everything.

Wait. The magic felt wrong. L'anse cocked his head to one side and focused inward, analyzing the prickling sorcery making his skin itch. The man who unknowingly called out to L'anse wasn’t a god. Not yet.

Itchy magic skipped a long beat before skating under his skin once more. The man was a Woodsman aged to ironwood. He would leap to godhood or fade soon. Either way, L'anse wanted nothing to do with him. 

L'anse could aid his crossing into a lesser god. Diamond dust dragons once served the Velosians, along with other lesser gods. L'anse once believed his god-king had been his friend. Hah! Lies, all lies. That fool was why his love faded.

L’anse shook his head to clear his mind of the memories, as he no longer desired a life filled with useless service. He didn't wish to aid a dying Woodsman. L’anse told himself he longed instead for his Aralezes princess. She alone mattered to an old diamond dust dragon.

There was no reason to give up his chase for everything. Let the Woodsmen find their own destinies. He need not be a master of destiny for them. Not anymore.

The unnatural slumber of a diamond dust dragon with no master hadn’t been peaceful or restful. L'anse suffered as he endured an enforced sleep. The nightmares had plagued him, and he knew the white bear, another supposed friend, had also betrayed him. 

His memories ordered themselves as the fog of magic-induced sleep faded. 

The drowse spell used to put him to sleep hadn’t been a welcomed one. Cymarin forced him into that frozen trance. L'anse had wanted to seek his Valkyrie; he still wanted only her. The rest he renounced.

Time had passed. How much time? What had changed? The cave offered him nothing of value in that regard. If he wanted answers, he needed to leave.

She awaits you. 

Words flitted along, born of the same magic which had spelled him to sleep. They whispered through the dream and touched his mind tentatively. Almost as a caress, the words promised his heart’s desire. 

L'anse shook his head and stretched his long-dormant muscles. It was likely his imagination. If not, he refused to hear the white bear's lies.

Will you serve? 

No! He served before, but they denied him his Valkyrie, and forced him to snooze away part of eternity. He chose against service once again.

He wanted her. L'anse would look for her instead. If he couldn’t find her, have her, the dream could burn, and L'anse wouldn’t care.

She hurts. She’s an Empath.  

He was L’anse Devolyn, the Master of Destiny. He would protect and shield her. She was an Empath. The white bear's words irritated him.

Fly to your god or be only diamond dust. 

The magic urged him, prickling the skin beneath his glassy scales. It was surely not a part of his imagination. He ignored the urge, even as he spread his wings, breaking a few of the rock formations in the cave. 

L'anse Devolyn deserved his promised mate. If he served anyone, it should be his goddess. He’d fulfilled the ancient oaths and still lost his chance. There would be no more sleeping and no more service. He would check on his hoard and ensure his mate suffered not from wanting.

His liege will reward your service and set you free, even as a servant. It will come to pass. You will have it all, as you should have once, long ago. 

L'anse cocked his head to one side, considering the words whispered in the magic. A god who served a liege was an exceedingly rare oddity. A god who served a liege lord who wished to set a diamond dust dragon free intrigued him for a moment. Service hadn’t been all bad; once it held honor and privilege.

Thank you for visiting the scrying pool of Draoithe Saga Scrying Pool. I sincerely hope you enjoyed this glimpse into the future of the dream.

Thank you for your support! Welcome to the dream… Sincerely, -OK

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