NOVEL NEXT Chapter 38: Still My Brother
Lukas stirred. The scent of sea salt, cedarwood, and worn parchment clung to the air around him. He blinked, vision blurry, breath slowed. Soft linen sheets clung to his sweat-damp skin, and the rocking of the ship was gentle now—not like before, not violent or frenzied. Just a calm sway, the kind that lulled sailors to sleep. It took a moment before he realized he was below deck. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere warm. He must have immediately passed out after being teleported away, narrowly escaping the Nozar Navy's grasp.
The room was...cozy, surprisingly so. Polished wood paneling. Lanterns lit with a soft, golden flame. A desk nearby cluttered with maps, books, and a well-worn compass. Lukas' hands trembled as he sat up slowly, the sheets falling from his shoulders, and his mind reeled. Not from pain. Not from exhaustion. But from the overflow of it all, memories and mana. Using the Crest of the Lord, the Final Legacy of a Lord, had been an experience like no other.
It hadn't left him. Lukas wasn't sure they ever would. The voices were gone now, but the echo of them remained, distant whispers on the edge of his thoughts—like faces seen only once in dreams, yet permanently etched into the soul. So many memories. So many lives. He had seen the lives of every Dragon Lord of the Seas who had ever lived, and whose legacy he now carried. All of it happening in a matter of seconds. Lukas wondered if this was a burden that a human mind could take on. He doubted it.
It was another thing to live through another's life. But dragons lived far longer than humans, they outlived entire civilisations. He saw glimpses of a world where humanity had not been even existed on the face of Hiraeth and that was not something he thought a human mind could handle. Would he go insane, trying to bear the weight of it all? Would he lose himself trying to be something else?
Then, Lukas felt dread. What if it was already happening? What if he was already beginning to lose who he was before all of this? Before the magic and dragons, before Linemall, before Ilagron Village, before Hiraeth?
Lukas ran a hand through his hair and tried to think of his past life. Before the fighting and before he lost his family. He searched for a memory. Just one. His mother's face. The scent of his childhood room. His first time watching snow fall outside his apartment window. The first friend he made in school.
He tried to remember it.
Lukas tried to remember Julien Fronterra's life.
But they were fading. Slipping like sand through trembling fingers. He clenched his jaw, panic swelling in his chest. No. He had to calm down. He just needed time to recover from using the Crest of the Lord. Give it time and the memories would come back to him with ease. Right? Lukas wasn't sure what to do if it they didn't.
Was this the price? The cost of becoming something more than human? More than what he was born to be? Was he still Julien Fronterra at all?
Or had he already become Lukas Drakos—son of the sea, heir to a throne that was never meant to be his? A life that was never his to begin with. Had his second chance been a theft all along? A soul wearing a skin that didn't belong?
Lukas heard a knock on the door and turned towards it. Rodan stood at the doorway, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed loosely. He didn't speak at first. Just watched him. He was alone, Katrina and the Kraken nowhere to be seen. The man continued to observe Lukas but his eyes were far from cold, not a hint of suspicion in his eyes. Yet, Lukas still felt unnerved because in his eye was something gentler. Concern. Familiarity. Brotherhood. But it was a brotherhood that Lukas had never been a part of.
"You're awake," Rodan spoke at last, his voice like velvet over stone, breaking the silence between them.
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Lukas gave a small nod, still sitting on the edge of the bed, his voice hoarse. "How long was I out?"
"A few days. But don't worry. We're in safe waters now. Somewhere closer to Easthaven. But we're sailing along the coast now, planning to head back to Ilagron Village," Rodan paused, then added quietly, "You did good. Real good. You saved us. Katrina wouldn't stop crying until we confirmed you were breathing."
Lukas tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. As much as he appreciated Katrina's great concern for him, it just made him feel more like a fraud. It just made the guilt weigh on his shoulders even more than it already had been since he'd defeated the Kraken. Rodan stepped closer, slowly, like approaching a wild animal, not wanting to startle him.
"I came to check on you. You look like you've got a lot on your mind. Are you doing alright?
Lukas looked away.
"I'm not your brother."
Rodan froze.
"I know I look like him," Lukas continued, "And I sound like him. But I'm not—" Lukas's hands clenched. "I'm not the boy you grew up with. I'm not who you think I am and that is something that I need to make clear. I'm just a stranger in his skin."
Silence. Then Rodan crossed the room and sat beside him, without hesitation. The weight of him was steady.
"You think I didn't know that?" Rodan said quietly. "The second you looked me in the eye, I knew you weren't him. Not exactly. But that doesn't mean you're not mine. Katrina told me that you don't remember much of the past. But that does not mean you are not my little brother, Lukas."
Rodan did have days to catch up with his daughter while Lukas was unconscious after all.
The older dragon continued, voice low but firm. "That doesn't matter. Because at the end of the day, you are still a Drakos. You chose to stay with us. You chose to fight with us. You could've abandoned all of this. You could have left like…like I did. But you stayed. You fought for Linemall. You fought for Katrina. You fought for me—even when I'd become someone unrecognizable." He looked at Lukas, deep and honest.
Lukas stared at the floor, uncertain. Rodan placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Even if you're not the same person I knew... you are still my brother. Do not ever doubt that for a second." And the smile that Rodan gave Lukas made that weight sitting on his shoulders just a bit lighter. The room fell into a hush again. But this time, it wasn't oppressive. It was warm. A silence that held instead of crushed.
Lukas closed his eyes and let the weight of it settle in. He didn't have all the answers.
But maybe... just maybe…
He wasn't alone.
"Lukas… I need you to use the Crown." Rodan suddenly spoke again, this time, his voice more firm than ever.
Lukas looked up, brow furrowed. "The Crown of the Lord?"
Rodan nodded once, serious now. The tension in his posture was subtle but undeniable—like a man about to open a door he'd kept locked for far too long.
"There's something I need to show you. Something you deserve to see. Something that should've been the first thing you saw when you woke up in that body."
Lukas hesitated. He was unsure of what Rodan wanted to show him and confused as to why he needed the Crown instead of just telling him. But he also knew some things could not simply be explained with words.
So Lukas nodded slowly. "What is it you want me to see?"
Rodan didn't answer. Not with words. Instead, he stepped forward and offered his hand, palm open.
"I need you to understand. Of who you really are, Lukas. Because it is who you have always been."
And though Lukas had a thousand questions—Why did the Kraken's magic affect him? Why couldn't he resist the Kraken's magic? Was it because he didn't have the Crown of the Lord? If so, then how would a Dragon be made Lord without one of the most vital Legacies of a Lord?—but he decided not to ask.
Why?
Because he had a feeling in his gut that what Rodan was about to show him would answer a lot of the questions he already had. So Lukas placed his hand in Rodan's and summoned the Crown of the Lord. Threads of connection shimmered between the two brothers. Just like that, Lukas could only watch as they were transported into the memories of a past long buried, where the truth patiently waited to be seen.