Chapter 27 Like a Meteor #2
“Right,” Ezra confirmed.
“Clearly, it’s because of the armor,” Venrick answered.
“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” Lark said.
“The point we’re trying to make is, it doesn’t make you invincible,” Venrick argued.
“Good to know now that I’ve already fought giant wolves, hulking Morsythians, an elf, a mage, and a dragonrider,” she responded through gritted teeth.
“And it was all for naught,” Venrick said. “We should’ve been focusing on where Sasja could take a Hyalite without Nordraven or Lamar knowing instead of nearly getting ourselves killed over Yogos to pay for this tracking spell.”
She rose to her feet with some effort, untying the leather pouch from her sword belt. “Hold out your hands,” she said. Venrick did, Ezra and Hardin leaning in as Ingamar stood guard over them. Lark opened the pouch and poured the soot-stained Yogos into his hands.
“You kept some hidden under your armor,” Venrick said, blinking.
As they revered the Sapphires, Hardin interrupted, saying, “Didn’t Lark just fight a Nordraven dragonrider?”
Venrick nodded.
“Are we in serious danger here? And I don’t mean just from the Northerners who could be marching back through here after chasing off the unit from Storm Keep,” Hardin said.
“Hang on, some of these are used,” Ezra said, checking through the Yogos. “Why did you collect spent sapphires?”
“They weren’t spent when I collected them,” Lark said, seeing that nearly half of the Sapphires she had bagged were without light.
Ezra leveled his gaze at Venrick. “You realize what this means, don’t you?”
“That the power housed in Yogos is unpredictable?” Venrick guessed.
“No. She used them,” Ezra said.
“You have to speak to coax the magic from them,” Venrick argued.
“I didn’t use them. I don’t even know how to,” Lark said.
“You mean, you don’t remember how to,” Ezra corrected her.
“Regardless, I didn’t use them. I didn’t say any spells after I was airborne.”
“You spell-cast when facing that rider, though, right?” Ezra said.
“Yes,” she admitted. “But I was channeling through a bond. I could feel the tether there connecting me to the power.”
“It is as I have suspected for some time. The other instructors at the Academy said I was mad, but I knew the Magi Order was keeping this hidden,” Ezra said.
“What are you talking about?” Venrick said.
“Lark’s armor fed off the magic in the Yogos to keep her body from breaking,” Ezra said.
“What? No, that’s not how brismil works,” Venrick said.
“I didn’t go to an Academy, but Tel schooled me on its origins.
Brismil comes from the original twelve dragons who claimed residence in Sataran.
When their long lives were drawing to a close, they shed their earthly forms, ascending to the realm of the gods.
Their magical essence was transferred into their scales and bones, leaving behind armor and weapons for the future dragonriders.
But brismil can’t take on more power, only impart its eternal energy onto the bearer, right? ”
“They are pieces of magical beings, though?” Ezra asked. “None of the original twelve were killed. They ascended to the realm of the gods, leaving behind these pieces of themselves. Who’s to say if those fragments of the ancient dragons can be shaped into something new.”
“This has been tried before and failed. Tel told me,” Venrick said.
“How many years did you or Tel spend researching this very subject. Did you have access to a magical laboratory, testing the longevity and potency of magical objects created by Hyalites or other ethereal powers? Because I did. I spent decades researching and theorizing on this exact topic. Just when I was getting close to an answer, they forced me out.”
“Why force you out over something that would benefit the Paragons?” Venrick asked.
“One door opens…” he said, staring at the Yogos.
“You’re suggesting that the brismil scale absorbed the power from some of these Yogos and used it to heal Lark’s body from the impact?” Hardin asked.
“Yes, but only what was needed to keep its host from being crippled,” Ezra said.
“She’s alive, which makes what you’re suggesting possible,” Venrick said. “But how can that be? Everything we know about the energy from Sapphires tells us the magician needs to speak for the magic to take form.”
“In human riders, magi, elves, dwarves, and orcs, yes, but not dragons. Dragons are of a different realm than the other races and do not speak to use their magic; it stands to reason then that brismil would fall under the same class of rules,” Ezra argued.
“This is all really fascinating, but I think we need to circle back to that question I asked a few moments ago. You know, about the enemy dragonrider who Lark was just fighting,” Hardin said.
Lark felt her stomach drop as though she were falling all over again.
The pain, the unconsciousness, the arguing, it was all distracting her from processing what had just happened.
She was horrified at what she’d experienced.
From Nix betraying her to the moment that she channeled magic through her dragon bond, it all flooded back.
“Ash, we need to get out of here,” Lark swore.
As she said it, she noticed the sensations that had driven her before, the ones emitting through her from the necklace were no longer there.
The gold chain felt cool against her skin.
In a panic, she tried to rip the chain free.
She yanked on it, tugging her head forward, the chain biting into the back of her neck.
“What are you doing?” Venrick asked, trying to perceive the threat that Lark had felt.
“It’s this necklace. I think it’s linked with him because of Nix,” she said trying to rip it off again. It didn’t budge.
“Linked to who?” Ezra said.
“That rider.”
“Describe him.”
Lark gave them a play-by-play, getting the feeling that if the rider was going to destroy her, he would’ve given chase by now.
She told them of Nix’s betrayal, making her fall, the rider revealing that she was his fae sent to spy on her, or so Lark suspected.
How he spoke to her as though they’d known each other.
That he demanded the Hyalite from her. And how she’d channeled through her bond.
“Maybe the Giving-Rain got them,” Hardin said hopefully.
“Wishful thinking,” Ezra said. “That rider is gone for now. Otherwise, he would’ve attacked us.”
“And you’re sure he acted like he knew you?” Venrick asked.
“It wasn’t just that he knew me. I knew him,” Lark said. She struggled to remember what he looked like under that armor. “His voice was so familiar to me, but I can’t think of how I know him or what his name is.”
“Was it Marcel?” Hardin asked.
“He does ride White Eye,” Venrick said.
“But the dragon’s eyes turned golden again after landing,” Lark said.
“The rider has warging powers,” Ezra said.
Lark cocked her head at him.
“It means he can see through other animal’s eyes, effectively controlling them for a period of time,” Venrick explained.
“White Eye’s eyes are rimed in gold, he’s not being warged into like this dragon you faced. Marcel Heartfell doesn’t wield a brismil spear either. I’ve never known anyone to have escaped Marcel’s wrath. If Marcel wanted the Hyalite, he wouldn’t have let you escape.”
“He wasn’t actually after the Hyalite. He wanted something called an astral lathe,” Lark said.
“Curious. I wasn’t aware that those were still in existence. Not much is known about them, other than that they came with the first twelve dragons who settled here in Sataran,” Ezra said.
“Did you say he let her go? Or is she a powerful dragonrider who can stand up to Nordraven enemies?” Venrick challenged.
“Regardless, this means that Nordraven doesn’t have the Hyalite,” Lark said.
“You’re right,” Venrick said. “This means that the Morsythians might not be acting with the Northern kings like we assumed. They may be acting in their own interests.”
“Why now? What do they need this Hyalite for and where did they learn to use such powerful magic? These red amulets you say they used are not powered by Yogos,” Ezra said.
“They’re used for curses,” Venrick said.
“All these Morsythians are under a curse?” Lark asked.
“Curses don’t manifest as spell-casting abilities?” Ezra said.
“Maybe things have changed since you were at the Academy,” Venrick suggested.
“Maybe they have, maybe they haven’t. What makes you say this magic the Morsythians are using is a curse?”
“Intuition,” he said. “I know it sounds unlikely, but what if they’re being manipulated by corrupt magic. What if the magi figured out how to store power in them and taught the Morsythians how to use it?”
Ezra wrinkled his face and shook his head. “That wouldn’t work. Besides, the Magi Order forbids curses. They wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen among their group. Using curses is a Northern practice.”
“What makes you so sure the magi won’t change their ways?” Venrick asked, narrowing his gaze at Ezra.
“These amulets, what do they look like?” Hardin asked.
“I grabbed one,” Lark said, searching the depression where she’d landed. “Here it is,” she said, lifting the broken chain and wasted amulet. “I took it from the Morsythian. I guess I had a good grip on it. It’s spent of magic, not the same color that it had been.”
“This is just like the one our chancellor wears. His is redder, too,” Hardin said, taking the amulet and examining it.
“You said your townspeople were put under a curse,” Ezra said
“That’s right.”
“But it doesn’t affect you because you’re a Ward Walker?” Lark said.
He shrugged.
“Who is powerful enough to be placing curses that could affect entire populations?” Ezra asked.
Venrick stared at the ground near his feet, knowing the answer but unable to hint at it more than he already had. The Magi Order. If one was corrupted enough to curse him while the others watched, there had to be more that could do worse. Venrick noticed Lark observing his posture.
She’s intuitive. Well, I guess you have to be when you’re a rider strong enough to take a Hyalite from Marcel ashing Heartfell, he thought.
“We may find more answers while getting our tracking charm,” Ezra said.
“So, you are sticking around. You’ll join our cause?” Lark asked.
“I joined your cause the day I found you wandering the woods with a dragon in tow, a fire fae on your shoulder, and a Hyalite in your pack.”
“Good,” Lark said. “Tell me, who is this sage elder who can forge our tracking charm and who knows so much more than you?”
“She’s an elf. She was cast out by her people and is feared by ours. She was one of the best instructors I ever saw at the Academy and now organizes something much larger. We’re going to seek counsel from Cheyanne.”