Chapter 23 Runes #2
“Baldur. I need you now. Are you with me?” I ask him, as I stare into his eyes. I feel him struggle then, as his darkest nature rages against me. Because it wants to stay far out in the cosmos, wild with these runes and the godlike power they could give him.
Then something in him feels my heart, however. As he heaves a deep breath, Baldur closes his eyes, blocking out all that whispering rune light.
“I’m with you, Rikyava,” he breathes, though I feel some part of him is still far away, trapped in his temptation. “I swear it.”
“Good,” I tell him, as I feel him understand my heart. Because I will not berate him, or chastise him, or warn him away from his inner darkness. I just need to make sure he lets us all in as he goes there.
Because this addiction, for Baldur, will not be something he can abstain from; we need his talents as a sigilwright and a runesmith, to do what we’re going to do next.
He can’t stay away from this power, or remain separate from it. What he can do, though, is take us all with him into his vast inner darkness, and the terrible siren song it creates.
He can hold us close with him there, as a lodestone to keep him sane and safe, as he’s tempted to wield all this power and go dark from it. I feel that temptation inside him roar, just a moment more. Then Baldur swallows and I feel him take another deep, pained breath.
As he lets us all into his heart—at last.
I feel it as we’re all suddenly swept up into Baldur’s cosmic tides. I feel it as we’re hauled in tight around him now; not just metaphysically with our dragons but also in our flesh, as I’m thrust into his arms and the rest of my drakes crowd around, tight.
Because Baldur’s heart is just that beautiful, and his need is just that great, as we all stand close and touch him now, feeling his aching heart.
He’s scared; deeply scared of what might come next for him, should we ask to find the Black Dragon’s birthplace and follow these runes to their destination.
It could mean destruction for him; ultimate destruction, of his entire brightness. We all know it, as we crowd around him and hold him now.
Holding him steady in our love, against the darkness.
“I can do this,” he says at last, as he heaves a hard breath and swallows. Our foreheads pressed together, his closed eyes tighten. “I can do this…”
At last, he opens his eyes. I see the fire of the runes sweep him away, just for a moment. As his eyes go belladonna blue-black again, I fear for one heartbeat that he’s never coming back.
But then Baldur squeezes me closer in his arms, tight. As the caring knot of our drakes pulls in around him even more, wrapping their arms around him, nakedness be damned, he sighs.
His eyes clear. His aura brightens. As he finally kisses me, lingering and soft, I feel his beautiful heart in it.
Because Baldur doesn’t want to be a demon; he wants to be his vast inner brightness. And that choice is all we need to move forward, as we stand in support of him now, all around.
I reach up, cradling his face in my hands.
A wisp of a smile finally finds his lips, as his lovely cerulean eyes shine.
“We’re with you. All the way,” I tell him now, as I hold him close and our drakes crowd around us. “You’re not alone in the darkness, Baldur. We’re with you, every step. No matter how wild and crazy this magic gets. Or how powerful.”
“Or how powerfully tempting,” Mikkel says as he grips Baldur’s shoulder. His dark eyes are calm as we hold each other in this powerful space, full of knowledge, finally, about his own inner beast.
“Don’t be afraid to use your rage, rather than your calm,” Bjorn rumbles now, as he stands with us, holding Baldur around the waist. His gold eyes blister as he gives my Fourth Drake a piece of his mind, and wisdom, from all the careening emotions he’s fought over the decades.
“Sometimes we need the power rage can give us when we’re temped to surrender to a dark place.
Hold the ideal of who you want to be hard inside your heart.
Let your inner rage fuel you to go there, rather than be drawn into the call of your vast siren-dark. ”
“Bjorn’s right,” Strom says as he stands in this place with us, brave and kind.
“Because our light can never be as truly bright as it can be until we stand strong inside our deepest dark. Go there; see it. Take a deep breath and dive on in. Because we’ll be there with you, to hold your light and reflect it back.
Don’t be afraid, Baldur. When you see that your worst nightmares are just that—nightmares—you’ll finally understand truth from reality.
Reality is that you have an addiction. Truth is that you are Light.
Remember that, always. We’ll remember it for you, too, whenever you dive into your deepest dark. ”
“We’re with you, all the way into the darkness,” I reiterate to him now as I hold his face in my hands.
“And we’re coming back out again, you hear me?
We’re all coming back, together. Into this incredible, beautiful light we’ve found, as one.
Which produces this magic between us in the first place.
Because we’re not just separate souls anymore, Baldur, but one which is shared.
Can’t you feel it? This incredible amalgamation of love and endlessness we’re all making together? ”
I hadn’t known that’s what I was feeling until the words pour from my lips. They’ve come from my deepest heart, however, as I feel them lance right into Baldur’s deepest heart, too, and bolster him there.
Because we’re all feeling it now, this incredible union of magic we’re making. It’s affecting all our hearts, as something inside us and all through us begins to pulse and pound as one.
The runes around the walls feel it. They brighten tenfold, then a hundredfold, searing with an incredible daylight clarity now as their call surges. For the first time, we stand strong in it, Baldur’s beautiful heart unwavering now as his eyes glance at the runes blazing all around us.
I see him, ready to do this, at last.
“No time like right now, I suppose,” Baldur says as his gaze returns to me. The slightest smile plays around his lips now, as I feel him come back to his brighter side, and the humor that lives in it.
“These runes feel like they want to show us something.” Strom turns away from our group now, glancing at the walls, the floor, the columns, and even the ceiling, high above. “But what?”
“What we came here for,” I say then, as I ready myself for what I know I must do now. I lift, kissing Baldur upon the lips and letting him feel my massive heart, ready to be here with him always.
Then I turn, taking a deep breath as I feel the voices of the ancient dead whisper harder through my ears, attentive to me.
Because I’m about to do what Bloodwalkers do best.
And command them to do my bidding—to get us what we want.
“Hearken to us, old ones, you who made these halls. We’re here to discover the secrets of the Black Dragon of All Souls, the Usurper who was named Jormungandr,” I tell all those millions of simmering runes now, informing them of our quest. “We’re ready now.
Take us to the place where the creature was born.
Reveal to us the darkest innermost secret this ancient citadel has to hide.
Of how Hedda Anderlen made her most vile and villainous creature.
And where she gave it its black-hearted, Frankenstein life.
Because we’re here to kill it. But first, we must understand it. Then… we’ll take it down.”
As I finish speaking, the runes on the walls blaze into a raging firestorm of life. They make their own auric flame now, as they seethe and pulse with the ancient souls of millions of unknown dead, conversing about my request.
But then they coalesce into a single burning line of light. That line leads us right through the now-empty dining hall, out the nearest set of doors.
Onward to our destination on this endless underground night.