Chapter 36 Rhea #2
—Say nothing. We should be near each other when we attempt this, so come to me at dawn. Before your duties. We will face our pasts together. Now, you need some rest.
RHEA
I sink into my bed after leaving the study, convinced I won’t sleep at all.
Yet somehow, exhaustion claims me, dragging me under into merciful darkness.
A few hours later, I wake up feeling almost human.
Not rested, exactly, but functional. The barracks still breathe with the deep sleep of my fellow riders. Perfect.
Like before, I avoid the guards that patrol the courtyard, and creating Vortex Lift, I leave the fort and slip into the pre-dawn world.
As I land on the other side, morning mist curls around my ankles, drifting ghostlike across the hills.
The moon hangs low, casting just enough silvery light to navigate by.
Birds haven’t started their dawn chorus yet.
It’s so damn peaceful out here. Hard to believe a war rages just beyond these tranquil hills, that people die while dew forms on grass blades.
I sense Zephyros. Looking up, I catch a flash of silver wings through the mist circling lower.
—You are early, he observes, banking toward a clearing just beyond the tree line.
—Couldn’t sleep.
—You did sleep. I felt it.
—Fine. Couldn’t sleep more.
He lands with grace, making almost no noise. His scales shimmer with collected moisture from the clouds.
—This spot will give us privacy from the others.
I approach him, my heart beating faster than it should. —Ready?
He lowers his head. His large eyes fix on me, obsidian pupils growing until they seem large enough to swallow me whole. Each eye is wider than my entire body. The jagged scar over his right eye looks particularly vivid in the dim light.
—All right. I wipe sweaty hands on my thighs, take a deep breath, and step closer, placing my palms against his snout.
Closing my eyes, I push past our familiar mental connection, the everyday link we use for conversation. Slowly, I reach deeper into territories I’ve respectfully avoided.
The barrier between us thins, then dissolves completely. Suddenly I’m falling, tumbling headlong into an abyss that stretches back centuries, ancient and powerful, threatening to drown me in their vastness.
I plummet through an endless sea of memories, each one a blinding fragment—light flashing through water, scales glinting in sunshine, blood on snow, mountains rising and falling like breathing chests, oceans swallowing land, forests burning to ash only to rise again.
Faces blur past—humans, dragons, creatures I can’t name.
I grasp at them, but they slip through my fingers like smoke.
The vertigo overwhelms me. I can’t tell which way is up, which way is down. I’m drowning, losing grip on who I am.
—Zephyros! I scream, though my mouth doesn’t move, can’t move. The void swallows my voice.
A deep, resonant hum vibrates through the chaos. It surrounds me, cradles me, slows my terrifying descent. The sensation is like being wrapped in a blanket during a storm, protected from the fury outside.
—Slowly, little one. You are safe with me.
The tumbling slows. The memories still whirl past, but no longer a disorienting blur. I can breathe again, can feel myself separate from the ancient consciousness I’m swimming through.
—Look at anything you want, he says. Start slow. Avoid what was taken for now. It might be too risky.
I accept the invitation, letting instinct and curiosity guide me.
I think of Merrill, Silas’s brother, and memories swirl into place, colors and sensations blending until they coalesce into a vivid scene.
Sky, endless blue punctuated by wispy clouds.
Wind rushes past me—no, past Zephyros—as he soars through the air.
Below, mountains rise like serrated teeth from the earth.
I watch a healthy Merrill atop Zephyros’s head. He’s grinning, eyes wild with excitement as they charge toward a horde of Screechclaws. His wind magic swirls around him like a tempest.
“We’ll take them all!” he shouts, standing upright instead of staying low against Zephyros’s scales.
—This is reckless.
I hear the thought, which Zephyros can’t speak into Merrill’s mind since he isn’t a Weaver like me.
He banks sharply to avoid talons. Merrill laughs maniacally, leaping impossibly high off Zephyros’s head to strike at a Screechclaw.
His wind magic propels him through the air like a missile.
He takes down one harpy, then another, Wind Spears slicing through their wings.
Zephyros beats his wings faster to position himself under Merrill.
It’s an impressive attack, but totally rash.
—He’s going to get himself killed, I whisper into the memory.
Merrill spins midair, killing a third Screechclaw, but doesn’t see the one diving from above.
Zephyros roars a warning, lunging upward to catch his falling rider, but the Screechclaw—her body already riddled with wounds—plummets directly into Merrill’s back with shocking force.
The sickening crack echoes through the memory as they collide.
I feel Zephyros’s terror as he catches Merrill’s limp body in his claws, the Screechclaw’s corpse falling away. Blood soaks through Merrill’s uniform.
Merrill screams in agony. “I can’t feel my legs,” he gasps, face white with shock. “You were supposed to… catch me. Can’t... feel...”
My stomach turns as I witness Zephyros’s frantic flight back to Fort Ashmire, his rider’s life force fading, too damaged for any medic to fully repair.
I gasp as the memory shifts, tumbling out of Merrill’s tragedy and into something even older.
Zephyros appears younger, his hide gleaming without blemish. No scar yet mars his eye. He carries no rider. Below him stretches a verdant valley nestled between gray mountain peaks. Fragor soars beside him, both dragons patrolling high above the land.
A disturbance catches Zephyros’s attention.
His vision—sharper than any human’s—zooms in on movement within a distant mountain pass.
My breath catches as I recognize what they must be.
Land dragons. Massive, wingless beasts with armored hides and tails like battering rams. Their scaled bodies slither through the pass with terrifying purpose, dozens of them.
—Fragor! Look! Zephyros’s voice carries no trace of his usual sarcasm. Land dragons entering the northern valley! They are heading straight for the nesting grounds. They got past the defenses!
Fear spikes through Zephyros, a visceral panic that makes my own heart race. I feel his desperate concern for something precious beyond measure.
—Oh, no! The eggs! I shout into the memory, sharing his horror.
Fragor banks closer, his eyes narrowing. —There are too many, Zephyros. We cannot defeat them alone. We need to get help.
—There is no time to get help. We have to try! My first offspring are among them. Zephyros’s desperation floods through me. If we wait for others, it will be too late!
—It is suicide, Fragor argues. We should gather the others.
But Zephyros doesn’t wait. He tucks his wings and dives, a deadly arrow aimed at the mountain pass. The wind screams past his scales as he plummets. I feel every second of his descent, his determination burning like wildfire.
—Damn you, Fragor, for your cowardice, Zephyros shouts.
He hits the first land dragon with full force, talons extended, tearing through tough hide.
The beast bellows, black blood spraying across stones.
Zephyros whirls, breath hissing between his teeth as he faces the others.
With no rider to complement him, he has no wind powers to speak off.
The beasts turn toward him, red eyes glinting with hunger and hatred.
Five. Ten. Fifteen. Too many to count.
Zephyros fights like he’s possessed, wings beating. He claws, bites, and whips his tail, sending boulders crashing down the mountainside. Three land dragons lie dead, but more keep coming. One catches his wing, teeth sinking deep. Pain lances through the memory, making me gasp.
“Fragor!” I scream aloud, though I know he can’t hear me across time.
The battle becomes a bloody blur of claws and teeth. Zephyros manages to free himself, only to be surrounded again. A massive land dragon, larger than the others, lunges forward. Its jagged claws rake across Zephyros’s face, tearing through his right eye. The pain is blinding, excruciating.
Zephyros roars, a sound of rage and agony that echoes through the mountains. Blood pours down his face as he desperately beats his wings, trying to gain altitude. The land dragons snap at his tail, his hind legs. He barely escapes, climbing shakily into the sky.
Below, the land dragons continue their march toward the nesting grounds. Through his good eye, Zephyros watches in horror as they reach the hidden site, as they smash eggs and devour the contents, glittering shells scattered like broken dreams.
—No! The anguish in his cry tears through me like a physical wound.
I wrench myself free from the memory, slamming mental walls between us with such force I feel something tear inside my mind. The connection stops with brutal efficiency, leaving me gasping.
My body collapses. I curl into myself on the damp grass, arms wrapped tight around my knees. Sobs rack my chest, but no tears come—just dry, heaving gasps that burn my throat.
“Your children,” I sob. “I felt it. I felt everything.”
The pain isn’t just his. It’s mine too, a scalding wave that crashes through my chest. I can’t separate myself from what I witnessed. The betrayal. The loss. The helplessness.
Zephyros doesn’t speak, doesn’t move. He stands perfectly still, like a metal statue in the morning mist.
“Fragor abandoned them,” I manage, fury building beneath my shock. “He left them to die. He—”
A voice cuts through the fog in my mind, calling my name. There’s a hand on my forehead, an arm under my neck cradling me. I blink rapidly, struggling to push away the haze that clings to my mind like cobwebs.
“Rhealyn? Rhealyn, can you hear me?”
I focus on the face above mine. Vaylen. His mesmerizing blue gaze stares down at me. A crease of worry marks his forehead.
“Let me go.” I try to push away, but I have no strength in my limbs. The agonizing memories left me weak.
“You were screaming. I found you convulsing on the ground.”
“Get off me,” I snap, shoving at his chest again. “This is private.”
“Private? You’re half-dead from whatever you just did!”
I look past him to where Zephyros stands motionless, his horrible grief still palpable in the air between us.
“What do you care?” I bite the words out.
“Don’t lie to yourself, Rhealyn. You know I care, but you shouldn’t be out here, shouldn’t sneak out of the fort. It’s against the rules.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the rules.” I manage to push away from him, scooting backward on wet grass. Damn this physical weakness! “Which apparently don’t apply to you.”
“Of course, they don’t. I’m the High Prime,” he snaps and rises to his full height to glower at me. “Fragor sent me a distress signal,” he adds. “That’s what prompted me to come.”
“Fragor?” I spit the name like poison. “That wyrm-rotted coward has no right to concern himself with me.”
Vaylen’s eyebrows go up. His gaze shifts from me to Zephyros, who remains unnaturally still, then back to me again. Understanding dawns across his features like a sunrise I want to punch out of the sky.
“You’ve been in his memories,” Vaylen whispers with a tone that makes my skin bristle.
“Yes, I have,” I snap, pushing myself to my feet despite the trembling in my limbs. “And now I—”
Zephyros grunts, a low rumble of disapproval vibrating through the ground beneath my feet. He shared his secrets with me, but that doesn’t mean they’re mine to repeat now. That memory is his alone, his pain to share or guard as he chooses.
The sun breaks over the horizon, painting the sky in pinks and golds that mock the darkness of what I’ve just witnessed. My legs still feel like water. My head pounds. But the fury inside me burns hot enough to keep me upright.
After a moment’s consideration, Vaylen’s face softens, his anger melting away. He steps back, giving me space to breathe.
“I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like,” he says quietly, “seeing the memories of a creature so ancient.”
I stare at him, caught off guard by this sudden shift. My fury lacks a target now, leaving me unbalanced.
“The pain he must carry,” Vaylen continues, glancing at Zephyros with something like reverence. “Millennia of suffering when a short human life seems more than enough.”
His words rattle me, knocking loose the rage that’s been propping me up. I sway slightly, leaning against Zephyros’s leg for support.
“Be careful with what you’re doing, Rhealyn.” His voice carries genuine concern. “You might end up fracturing your mind if you push too far into a consciousness so vast.”
The rising sun catches in his hair, highlighting those golden streaks. For a heartbeat, I want to touch them, to feel if they’re warmer than the rest.
He turns to leave, boots crunching on the damp grass. “You have muck-up duty in the stables for breaking the rules,” he calls over his shoulder. “And five more days of supply runs.”
“What?!” I sputter. “That’s—“
“Generous,” he interrupts without looking back. “Consider it a kindness that I shall not repeat.”
I watch him walk away, torn between hurling insults at his back and thanking him for his unexpected understanding. In the end, I do neither, just stand there breathing hard while the sun climbs higher over the hills.
—Are you sure we still do not like him? Zephyros asks.
I wipe sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand and walk back toward the fort. —To all the hells with you.