Chapter 44 Rhea
Rhea
Ihold on to Vaylen through our bond, his literal resurrection still radiating through me like fire. I nearly collapse from relief as I process his return, and the knowledge we've gained from Vestra.
Suddenly, a new fear fills me. What if she goes for the dragons? What if she decides to unravel all of them?
—Worry not for us, Heratrix says. She cannot use that power on us. If she could, she would not have simply turned us into harpies. She would have unmade us.
—Thank the four winds!
At least there's that, though she could still go after the Skyriders. We're nothing but sandcastles to her, easily disassembled. We have to stop her, whatever it takes.
Spurred by their failure, Vestra and Tahr rise for another attack. Zephyros banks, and as he repositions himself, I remember what I needed to tell them before the awful attack on Vaylen.
—The other females! I push the thought out. Look at what they're doing to them!
A brown dragon swoops down and captures a fallen harpy mid-resurrection, crushing it while still in that vulnerable in-between state.
—They must abandon the fight, I say.
Heratrix's thought crashes into mine. —If they flee now…
—The dragons fighting for Vestra will overwhelm us instead, Vaylen interrupts with certainty.
—We must end this at the source. Zephyros's rage pulses like lightning.
Our minds fuse into a single understanding, four perspectives uniting into terrible clarity. Vestra and Tahr must fall first. Everything else is a distraction.
Even as I form this thought, I watch several dragons break away from the massacre below. At some silent command from Vestra, they wheel in formation toward us, jaws gleaming with elemental energies.
—We're about to have company, I say, though I hardly need to. I can already feel Vaylen's awareness of the threat, along with Zephyros's determination and Heratrix's calculation of odds.
Eight dragons against our two.
Plus Vestra and Tahr.
A thought is born in Heratrix, a sequence of elemental patterns flowing at top speed, blossoming into a perfect idea. My breath catches as the plan unfolds.
—Yes. Vaylen's certainty ripples through me. That would work.
It's pragmatic nature steals my breath. So simple. So devastating.
—Are you certain? Zephyros questions, though I feel his approval already forming.
Heratrix's voice resonates through us all. —It's the only way.
Vaylen turns to me, his expression fierce. —I'll do it. Let me be the one.
I shake my head, feeling power gathering in my fingertips, in my chest, at the base of my spine. Everywhere the elements are alive within me. —No. It has to be me. Tahr deserves this.
Yes. He owes me for the memories he stole, for the choices he took from me, for all the times he manipulated me. For making me betray everything I believed in. He used me, shaped me to his purpose, and I will make him pay for all of it.
I breathe deep as chaos unfolds around me. Dragons clash in sky-tearing fury. Harpy shrieks pierce through air thick with elemental energies. There's no time for doubt now. It's become the most lethal luxury.
—Let's end this, Zephyros. My voice echoes in both our minds, charged with determination. His wing beats carry us forward, resolve in each stroke despite what we must do.
Zephyros and I ascend, firm against the wind.
Power floods my senses, each element a distinct vibration within me—earth rumbling like a distant earthquake, fire blazing with fierce intent, water fluid and unpredictable, wind keen and cold, light sharp and bright.
All while something dark whispers secrets in my mind… my Weaver powers.
Vestra leads her traitorous dragons in spirals. Blindly, they follow their false goddess, their shining beacon. She twists their minds, all for ambition.
Behind us, Vaylen and Heratrix pivot toward the approaching dragon squadron.
The wind screams around me as Zephyros climbs higher.
Tahr's face comes into focus, his perfect features twisted with surprise at my direct approach.
I feel his power reaching out, trying to latch onto my mind, but it slides off like water on oiled leather.
I'm stronger than him now, wielding my Weaver powers with the knowledge passed down from Heratrix through our bond.
"Enough!" I shout across the gap between us, using wind to deliver my message. "You've manipulated me for the last time!"
Zephyros halts his ascent, hovering a dragon-length away from Vestra, close enough to speak, far enough to avoid her lethal claws.
Tahr's confusion melts into that insufferable smirk. "My darling, I only guided you toward your destiny, except you chose the wrong side. I should have never let you go. You became unwieldy."
"You stole my memories and my choices. You made me believe I wanted you." Rage boils in my blood.
"You did want me," he says simply.
—Keep him talking, Heratrix whispers through our bond. Just a moment longer.
I channel my fury into performance, letting tears stream down my face. "You turned me against everything I believed in. Made me betray my own heart."
Vestra shifts restlessly beneath Tahr, her massive head swinging toward the battle unfolding below. She wants to end this.
Tahr lifts his hand, power crackling around his fingers, fire and wind combined. "I'll make you forget him again," he says softly. "This time permanently."
I smirk as I stand impassively. A line appears across Tahr's forehead at my sudden callous attitude.
"You never understood what Omneira truly means, did you?" I smile coldly as Vaylen and Heratrix move into position behind them. "It means we're never alone."
Tahr's expression shifts from arrogant confidence to alarm as he registers Vaylen and Heratrix's sudden change in direction. They're aiming for Vestra while, behind them, the other dragons chase, falling into a deliberate trap. That split second of distraction is all I need.
I reach into the well of power that flows through the tetrad bond, drawing on the knowledge that Heratrix just gained after Vestra's attack on Vaylen.
"This is for every memory you stole," I whisper.
Behind Tahr, Vaylen and Heratrix slam into Vestra with catastrophic force. The impact sends a shockwave through the air, and Tahr pitches forward, losing his balance and Tethers, then falling. As Vestra's attention whips toward her attackers, I catch Tahr, hold him suspended in the air, and strike.
With the enhanced power of the tetrad bond, I push my consciousness into his body, finding the delicate threads that bind him together.
Each particle vibrates with its own unique frequency, a symphony of existence.
I feel the water in his blood, the earth in his bones, the electricity of his heartbeat, the wind of his breath, the light of his consciousness, the darkness between his cells.
—Do you see? I ask as his eyes widen in horror. This is what it feels like to have someone inside you. Vestra should have never tried to kill Vaylen as she did. This is also for him.
I begin with his fingertips, unraveling the elemental bonds that hold him together. Unable to counter an attack he never could imagine mastering without control of all the elements, he watches in mute terror as his hands dissolve into motes of light, each particle scattering on the wind.
—You thought you could control me, I say, working my way up his arms, watching muscle and bone disintegrate into nothingness. But you never understood what I would become. That was your arrogant mistake.
He opens his mouth to scream, but I take his voice next, unwinding the delicate structures of his throat. His eyes plead with me as his torso begins to come apart, ribs separating into dust that glitters briefly before vanishing.
A sound like distant thunder reaches me as Vaylen and Heratrix continue their assault on Vestra, buying me precious seconds.
The heart is the last organ I dissolve, watching it beat frantically as it hangs suspended in air, disconnected from the body that's no longer there. Then I release the final threads, and it too unravels into nothing.
All that remains of Tahranis Flarebane is his consciousness, a glimmering mote of light and dark that I hold between us.
"Goodbye, Tahr," I whisper, releasing the last bond. He doesn't even leave ashes behind.
I turn from the empty space where he existed just moments ago, and focus on the chaos ahead.
Vaylen and Heratrix battle furiously against Vestra and her loyal dragons, but I can feel their restraint through our bond.
They're holding back, using only defensive maneuvers against dragons who have no such compunctions.
—They can't win like this, I tell Zephyros.
—They do not want to harm them, he responds, his thoughts tinged with the same conflict. These dragons are victims of Vestra's lies.
Heratrix's heartbreak as she deflects attacks from dragons she once considered kin becomes my own.
Every blast she absorbs without retaliation is meant to protect them from themselves, and it's the same for Vaylen, whose Wind Walls barely hold against the onslaught.
He knows these riders better than anyone.
He was their High Prime, always the protector who felt responsible for the life of every single one of them.
Their struggle pulses through me like my own pain.
This is wrong. None of them should be part of this at all.
—This fight should be Heratrix against Vestra, I say, conviction building. Mother against daughter. This was never our war to fight.
—Yes, Zephyros say.
"Well, guess what, assholes?" I murmur. "I don't have Heratrix's and Vaylen's qualms about any of you."
—Neither do I, Zephyros roars agreement as we wheel toward the battle, the steps we must take to fix this mess passing between us in a stream of consciousness.
I have always loved the way you think, little one.
I am glad to see you have not changed. The Stormsong whelp would have never thought to do that, much less Heratrix.