Chapter 14 #2
Silence wraps me in its warm embrace as I step tentatively from the light flooding the landing.
Rui turns a dial, rotating the pale diamond-shaped panels along the wall until their edges connect.
A wave of warm light ripples through the connected panels that now shine like the moons in the night sky.
I step closer and run my fingertips over one of the panels; they are the same ones that line the dome of the main cavern. “What are they?”
Rui smiles. “Don’t you use phase panels to light your city?”
I shake my head. “No, how do they work?”
“These panels harvest the energy of the flares—”
“The flares?” I ask.
“They come through once a phase. We bring out enough panels to keep the city charged until the next flare.” Rui runs a finger along one of the seams. “When they touch, they transfer the energy across the cells.”
“Fascinating.” I trace the path of the panels that traverse the room’s perimeter. My breath catches as I take in where Rui has brought me.
Tapestries run the entire length of the room.
Their designs match the scenes carved into the exterior of the temple.
They must be as old as the temple itself.
Low tables with pillows strewn around them occupy the center of the room, with low shelves circling the study space.
The shelves are jammed full with scrolls, while the tops display artifacts.
My palms itch, and I can’t decide where to place my focus.
Everything here is as old as Tǎnkaski itself, and I want to drink in every detail.
When I finally glance back at Rui, I find that while I have been studying the room, he has been studying me.
“What do you think?” he asks.
I shake my head, words eluding me. My eyes dart over the tapestries, then land on Rui and his warm smile. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” The words are not enough, but what else can I say?
Rui arches a brow. “So you like it?”
I pull my lower lip between my teeth and nod.
“Good.” Rui takes my hand gently, giving me the chance to pull away.
I know I should pull away. We have only been here for half a phase and already this feels too close, too familiar, but I don’t.
Instead, I let him lead me over to the corner where the tapestry begins.
Rui lets go of my hand, though he stands so close that our fingertips brush.
“This is our history,” he says.
I squint at the artwork, willing it to unravel its secrets for me. It depicts great ships in the sky and then human forms that appear to be falling; it doesn’t match anything I’ve learned of history, and I struggle to understand what it means. I glance up at Rui. “Can you tell it to me?”
“Of course.” Rui glances up, his eyes tracing over the scene.
“Long ago, our ancestors lived in the stars. They traveled the cosmos in their great ships, but there was a disaster, and we could no longer stay in the sky. Our people descended from the heavens—” His fingers brush against mine, tangling as he gently tugs me along to the next scene.
“And made a home here on Dǎquwī. When our people descended from the heavens, some of them became entangled with the creatures that came to Dǎquwī with them. These creatures, who were once tiny and dependent on humans, grew large and fearsome. They sprouted wings, and gained the ability to summon fire, but even more amazing, they gained access to the source. These creatures became dragons, and our ancestors, who had cared for them, had the unique ability to access and wield their source magic.” Rui pauses to take in my reaction.
“So, in your history, there was a time when we all possessed magic?”
Rui grins and shakes his head. “No, only those blessed with the bond of a dragon could access their magic.”
“Huh.” My fingertips tingle with a warmth I have to work to dispel, instead focusing on the tapestry before finally nudging Rui with my shoulder to move to the next panel.
This scene depicts a tangle of elements.
If I’m reading it right, there are earth, stone, water, sky…
and bone. The tingling in my fingers intensifies, racing across my palms. I shove my hands into my pockets, leaning closer.
Between the tangled elements, I’m certain it depicts dragon eggs.
The more I stare at the tapestry, the more questions come to the surface. I work to harness my excitement. I want to ask Rui to tell me everything he knows, but I have to tread lightly. I know he’s tasked with preventing anyone from taking the path of Aether and Bone, but I don’t know why.
“So what determines if the dragon will take the bond?”
“The history texts suggest that the rider must be a direct descendant of those who were keepers of the creatures in the stars, and the dragon must find the rider worthy.”
The first part sounded like an excuse for nobles to save face when their children were found wanting on the hatching ground, but the second part had the ring of truth.
How many times had I felt that measurement, that searching, prodding, longing from the dragons in my dreams?
If there was any truth to the dreams, the dragons were questing for a bond, searching for a rider worthy of their gift.
“If all of this is true, not just some fantastical fairytale, then why do your people not bond with the dragons?”
Rui stiffens, then walks over to a new section of tapestry. He waits until I am positioned next to him again to speak.
“With the help of magic and the force of dragons, humanity erected a great kingdom. But those in power grew corrupt. They believed all those without the gift should submit to their will. Those who could not bond a dragon became little more than slaves to the ruling class and so fanned the embers of rebellion.”
The scene before me was one of terror and destruction. Riders on winged dragons tore through the sky, flames engulfed great structures, and the ground was littered with bodies of the fallen. “The people overthrew the riders?” I whisper.
“Yes, at great cost. To prevent such destruction, it was forbidden for humans to bond with dragons ever again. The survivors of the uprising decided it was too much power for any mortal to hold. That the power would corrupt even a pure soul and history would repeat itself.”
I turn, searching the tapestries for answers.
I’m not sure if I believe this to be history.
“But without the riders, the dragons rule the surface, and we are forced to live below.” The truth of the words tastes bitter on my tongue.
I don’t want it to be true that we damned ourselves to our own subterranean prison.
A shadow passes over Rui’s face. “Many dragons died in the uprising. There were so few left in the generations that followed that humanity thrived on the surface. But over time, their numbers grew until they began invading the human territories. Without dragons of our own, we could no longer hold the surface. We built our cities in the vast underground cave systems where we would be safe.”
“And what if The Below falls?” I bite my lip, angry with myself for letting that detail slip.
Rui turns to inspect me now. I refuse to meet his gaze, keeping mine locked onto the tapestry.
Gently, Rui runs his fingers along the angle of my jaw, turning my face to his.
“Why would The Below fall?” he whispers.
His onyx eyes search mine. I find kindness and concern reflected in those endless orbs, and I am so close to cracking and telling him everything. This affects us all—
“Am I interrupting?”