Chapter 25 Evil #2
Though the masterful sigil remains upon the floor, flowing through with millions of rune-phrases I can’t even begin to understand, all worked in silver, gold, and an unknown metal of an astonishing bright white, it’s far more extensive here even than it was in the Void.
Because here, that incredible sigil extends not just in concentric circles along the floor, out from the very place we stand, but also winds its way up every column at the far edges of the space.
It pours through the walls as well, spilling out onto the vast ceiling far above and covering it. That ceiling has dragons flying through the runes; gargantuan, stylized beasts of our Ancestors, they roar and rage as they cavort and battle all through the skies.
Just as we saw from the Void, twelve ancient mummified brutes of those dragons ring us now, with stunning jewel tones in their ancient scales.
Positioned to roar with jaws wide at us from every column, I see the silver, gold, and white sigils upon them have been carved throughout their mummified scales and flesh, the precious metals inlaid into them rather than tattooed.
It’s incredible, the entire space shining yet also dark, as those sigils seem to exude their own light, all around us. Majestic, a deep, ancient sensation of power flows through me now from this incredible space.
Thundering to the roots of my bones, and to the very last rivers of my blood.
“Well, I think we’ve found our power spot.” Mikkel chuckles as we gaze around in astonishment.
Even as we do, however, I notice something odd about the sigil on the floor.
As I glance down at it, then trace it beneath our boots, I finally see that the ancient sigil we stand upon is cracked.
Right through every line of silver, gold, and shining white, some terrible lance-like scar mars the beauty of what was created here long ago.
Sundering one half of the masterful sigil imbued in this chamber from the other.
“Would you look at that?” Strom notices it too now, as he bends, whispering his fingertips over the crack. “Sundered in half. Right through its middle.”
“Only a truly powerful magic could have done that,” Baldur notes as he hunkers like Strom, running his fingers over the crack also, a deep frown upon his face.
“The Black Dragon? Something to do with Hedda’s ritual when she created it?” I ask him now as I kneel to touch it with Bjorn.
“I don’t know…” Baldur says, however, as that pensive look devours his face.
Frowning down at that crack more, he seems lost for a moment, as I feel him spiral part of his consciousness out to the Void.
He gets no answers there, either, and at last comes back.
“I don’t know what made this division, Rikyava. Truly, I don’t.”
“We’ll figure it out, if we need to,” I say now as I rise, my drakes beside me. “I think we’ve found the Black Dragon’s birthplace, though. With all the crazy power I’m feeling flowing through this chamber, right now, this has to be the place.”
“Hedda used all this to create her monstrosity,” Bjorn grumps as he looks around, golden fire flashing in his eyes. “What we need to discover now is how to kill it.”
“With power like this, here in this chamber,” Baldur says as he glances at me, “I should be able to make a Soulstone. Provided we can cast down the black veil that’s still around you in the Void, that is.
So we can even speak to the Ancestors at all, much less gather imprints of the Five who made the creature. ”
“Holy hells.”
As another voice joins us, I turn to find that Laerke has entered the space. Her lavender eyes are wide, her lips fallen open; shock pummels from her as she slowly lowers her massive chartreuse and white dragon-aura.
As she also lowers her hands—from what I see just now was her powering up for a fight.
“Laerke!” Mikkel moves to her, smoothing his hands down his sister’s arms, then drawing her in close to peck her cheeks. Laerke just stares at us, then all around, as she marvels at the gargantuan space, astounded.
“How did you find us?” I ask her now as I come over, shock flowing through me that she could even get to this place through the mist.
“When you all left the dining solar after your… additional bonding, I felt your energies go to the library,” she says now as her vibrant gaze flicks to me, then takes in the ancient space.
“Once you were there, something happened, however… and I lost you. I lost Mikkel.” Her gaze flicks to him now, roving him as if to make sure he’s alright.
“So I rushed to the library. But when I got there, I ran through the door into… this place, instead of that one.”
“The portal-way must be open now.” Baldur’s eyebrows rise as he comes to us, Strom and Bjorn with him. We stand in a group with Laerke, as we asses this fresh development. “Whatever magic kept that space separate from the underground must have been nullified when we solved its riddle.”
“So, what happened to the library?” Strom asks as his eyebrows rise.
“Who knows?” Baldur shakes his head. “It most likely still exists, probably in a different location now than where it was, acting as a cover for this space. Now that we’ve broken the magic that kept this place separate from the underground citadel, however, it appears the way to the library leads here now. Instead of there.”
“All the better to get back and forth, and be able to prepare what we need, for Baldur to create this Soulstone thing,” Bjorn says now as he comes to my side, wrapping an arm around me.
“We should all eat again, rest, and prepare ourselves for a long night, or even a few nights, of high-level magic. Even with a hotspot of power such as this to aid us… we could be a very long time in a Bloodwalking ceremony, to break whatever curse is around you, Rikyava, preventing you from contacting the Ancestors properly. Not to mention do all the craziness we need to, for Baldur to gain enough memories of the Five to imbue their essences into a Soulstone.”
“Bjorn’s right,” Mikkel chimes in now, as I’m surprised to hear him agree on anything with my First Drake. “Even though this is a place of power, immense evil has been done here. We’ll need all our wits about us, if we are going to counter it with our ceremony.”
I hadn’t completely sensed it before, but as Mikkel speaks, I’m suddenly aware of a barely there sensation Mikkel’s dragon has picked up on in this place.
Because although everything around us looks mysterious and noble, arcane and protected the fuck up with all those massive dragon-mummies snarling at us all around, something about this space isn’t right.
It shimmers in the air as I glance around now; a strange, oilslick-black sheen of barely there magical remnants, thousands of years dead but still present inside this space.
It lingers in the crack through the floor, too, as both dragons inside me bristle, snarling at what they’ve discovered.
Because even as I glance at that crack with my inner sight now, rather than my regular eyes, I see the vicious black and charred crimson taint that spreads along that crack, like a disease.
Shot through with jagged, ugly sigil-marks, like they were bitten into the ancient stone or scratched there by talons, they are barely visible along both edges of that crack, between the glimmering runes.
Once I see them, I can’t unsee them, however. As if something beyond diabolical crawled up out of that crack in the cavern when it was first made, those nasty, scratched black-red runes make my skin crawl as everything inside me snarls.
Terrible.
“Mikkel’s right. Evil was done here.” Baldur’s quiet words communicate everything I’m feeling, as we all see it now, through our shared Bloodbond.
“Evil far older than the Black Dragon. Hedda only used that monstrous violation to power her creation during the War. Something far worse happened here, though. Something that unleashed hell upon our people in ancient times—which was the entire reason this chamber was hidden in the first place. Until Hedda found it and made use of it. Then us.”
As Baldur speaks, a terrible sensation of doom floods me. Because if this incredible space has only been used for dark purposes before, then who are we to cleanse it and make something good come out of it?
“We have to try,” Bjorn says suddenly, answering my unspoken question as all thoughts are shared between our group.
“Because if we don’t, the Black Dragon rampages forever.
Our King, our people, our loved ones… all will fall to this monstrous beast of despair and devouring our Ancestors created.
We are the ones to stop it now, though. We are the ones who have been tasked, through our ancient bloodlines, to bring it down.
We will cleanse this place with our fire and use it for good.
Else, the world dies. And everything we love dies with it. ”
As Bjorn speaks, I know he’s right. As a sudden, deep sensation of righteousness fills us all now, even Mikkel, I know we will face whatever evil happened here or die trying.
“It’s what we do,” I say now as I gaze around the space, then pin my gaze to each of my drakes.
“We are the last stand against evil in our world, tearing everything down in our time. Like hell am I going to sit around and let that happen, not when we could do something about it. Let’s head out, get some food, rest, and prepare.
Because Bjorn’s right; we need to come back ready to face this, and counteract whatever evil magic was done here in ages past, to do what we need to. ”
“But we will do it,” Strom says as he takes my hand, gripping it tight.
“Because we’re heroes, right?” Mikkel snorts, even though he reaches out, touching my hips lovingly. “First time for everything, I suppose.”
“It’s not the first time you’ve been a hero, Mik,” Laerke says as she steps to her brother’s side.
“All those Bone Mages we’ve saved in our clubs, from the terrible fate they faced, running from the false Council.
You’ve been a bleeding heart all your life.
You just didn’t see it until Rikyava came along. ”
“Heroes come in many flavors,” Baldur agrees as he touches my cheek, then Mikkel’s, then Bjorn’s, smiling enigmatically.
“Not all of them taste like springtime upon the tongue. But power is power, and power can be used for good or for ill. It is up to us to ensure which way the power moves when we’re in it. And we will.”
Though none of us understands Baldur’s poetic reference, all of us understand his words. As something strengthens in us, I feel us come to accord.
To do good here, or die trying.
Like the heroes we are.