Chapter 11 Echoes of Power #3
They stepped inside, the combined magic of dragon and fae still tingling between Lark’s and Yarla’s joined hands.
Unlike the chaos of the main archives, this chamber remained in perfect order.
Scrolls were neatly arranged on shelves, their cases crafted from the same light-absorbing metal as the door.
Small crystal orbs provided a soft illumination that burned for centuries without consuming fuel.
Lark approached the pedestal, drawn to the book at its center.
The cover was indeed made of dragon scale, not brismil, however.
This midnight black and iridescent scale was not from any of the original twelve dragons who’d ascended to the realm of the gods.
This book’s cover was meant to serve the test of time, protected by the plate-armor like scale of a dragon shaped to protect whatever was written there.
“Careful,” Venrick warned. “It may be warded as well.”
But Lark felt no resistance when she reached for the book. As her fingers brushed the scaled cover, a sense of recognition passed through White Eye. A part of him, the ancestral memory he held, knew this tome.
She opened it gently, revealing pages of thin metal rather than parchment. Etched into each sheet was text in the same dual language they had seen throughout the sanctuary.
“What does it say?” Venrick asked, peering over her shoulder.
Lark turned the metal pages carefully, struggling to decipher the ancient writings. “I can only read parts of it. Something about... the nature of the Entity. The ‘Void Drinker,’ they call it.”
“I may be able to help,” Nix said, revealing herself from Lark’s pendant.
Together, Lark and Nix translated, reading, “The Void Drinker exists between realms, neither of our world nor of the fae lands. It feeds on pure essence: the raw magic that flows through living beings. When it consumes, it does not merely take; it corrupts, twisting what remains into servants of its will.”
“The rimeshade,” Venrick said.
Yarla nodded and Lark continued to read. “Those partially consumed become vessels of its influence, forever seeking to feed their master’s hunger. They share its ability to absorb essence, though in lesser measure.”
She turned another page, frowning in concentration. “The Void Drinker cannot fully manifest in either realm without a conduit of sufficient power. It says it needs a vessel that bridges worlds as dragonriders do.”
Lark looked up from the tomb. “Yet another reason the rimeshade were harvesting magical essence in Haven’s Edge. Not only is it a more reliable source of readily available magic than scraping for Yogos and Hyalites, but they’re also trying to create their own conduit.”
“But why not just capture a dragonrider?” Venrick asked. “There are several throughout each kingdom.”
“Because they can’t control us,” Lark replied, the truth suddenly clear. “A true dragonrider bond is too powerful, too resistant to outside influence. They need something they can manipulate completely.”
Lark turned several more pages. “Listen to this,” Nix said while Lark held the book open for her to read the fae script.
“The Realmstone serves as both lock and key to the Void Drinker’s prison.
When infused with the twin powers of dragon and fae, it seals the way between worlds.
But in the hands of the Void Drinker itself, the stone becomes a tool to weaken the very barriers it once strengthened. ”
“Which confirms why it stole the Realmstone,” Venrick said. “It’s going to use it to break down the barriers between realms completely.”
“Not just any barriers,” Nix said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she read ahead. “The barriers that separate all realms from one another.”
Lark felt a chill that had nothing to do with the chamber’s cool air. “The Flashover,” she said. “It’s coming again soon, isn’t it? When the barriers are naturally thin?”
Yarla nodded grimly. “We’re approaching the five-hundredth year since the last one.”
“Perfect timing for the Void Drinker to use the Realmstone,” Venrick said.
“It won’t just be breaking through to our world; it’ll be tearing down the walls between all realms. Whatever it is the gods want by sending powers through the veil to manipulate us, they’ll have direct access after this.
Not only that, but full armies from other worlds could be able to lay their own claims to the powers here on our world. ”
Lark looked up from the book, meeting each of their gazes in turn. “Then we need to find it before the Flashover begins. We need to reclaim the Realmstone and learn how to perform the binding again.”
She turned one final page, then frowned. “There’s something missing here. These last pages refer to a complete record of the binding ritual, but...”
She carefully examined the binding of the metal book, her fingers probing where several sheets had clearly been removed.
“Someone took the instructions for the binding,” she said. “Recently,” she added.
“Barrik,” Lark hissed, her pendant flaring hot with sudden anger, Nix sharing in her emotion.
Venrick moved to the shelves, examining the scrolls and smaller books that lined the vault. “There has to be something else here. A clue about where to find information on the binding ritual.” He pulled out a scroll, unrolling it carefully. “This is a map of all the dragonrider sanctuaries.”
Lark and Yarla joined him, leaning over the ancient map. Dots of silver and blue marked locations throughout Sataran, some in places Lark recognized, others were in territories she’d never known housed sanctuaries.
“There,” Yarla said, pointing to a marking near the center of the map. “That’s Astral City. There was a sanctuary there?”
“Not just any sanctuary,” Venrick said, studying the symbols surrounding the marking. “According to this, it was the seat of the Concordat.”
Lark’s eyes widened. “Vermillion Keep. It’s built on the ruins of the original sanctuary in Astral City.”
“That would explain why the Kings of Lamar have always been so powerful,” Yarla mused. “They built their capital on a nexus of magic.”
Venrick rolled up the map carefully, tucking it into his belt. “If Barrik took the pages about the binding ritual, he might be heading to Vermillion Keep to find more information.”
“Or to prevent us from finding it,” Lark added grimly.
A sudden vibration ran through the floor beneath them. Outside in the courtyard, White Eye roared a warning call that echoed through the sanctuary. Lark felt his alarm.
“Something’s coming,” she said, her hand moving instinctively to where her sword would normally hang. “We need to go. Now.”
They rushed from the vault, Lark taking only a moment to seal the metal door behind them. As they hurried through the destroyed archives, Yarla grabbed one last scroll from a partially intact shelf.
“Wait,” she said. “This might be important.” She quickly scanned the contents, then nodded to herself before tucking it into her robes.
They burst into the courtyard to find White Eye pacing anxiously, his wings half-extended in preparation for flight. The air had grown noticeably colder, and at the edges of the sanctuary, where the wards met the mountain slopes, frost was beginning to form.
“Rimeshade?” Venrick asked.
Lark shook her head, mounting White Eye with practiced ease. “Worse. I think the Entity itself is probing the sanctuary’s defenses.”
Yarla accepted Venrick’s help onto the dragon’s back, her face pale but determined. “It knows we were here. It knows what we found.”
Venrick swung up behind Lark, settling into position between her and Yarla. “Where to now?”
Lark looked toward the south. “The Vermillion Keep. If there’s anywhere that might hold the secret to rebinding the Void Drinker, it’s there.”
As White Eye launched into the darkening sky, Lark glanced back at the sanctuary.
For a moment, she thought she saw a humanoid figure standing in the courtyard: a silhouette made of deeper darkness than the encroaching night, its edges rippling like liquid.
Then they banked around a mountain peak, and the sanctuary disappeared from view.
The cold that nipped at her cheeks from the crisp northern sky paled in comparison to the ache she felt in her bones at what lay ahead. She squeezed Venrick’s arm, and he tightened his grip around her, but Lark knew they’d stumbled onto something much bigger than she’d ever thought possible.