As Grandma Annika says it, I recall the voice of my Bloodwalker Ancestor from the Void of Ancestors, which encouraged me to break the seal on that altar. I feel sick, deep inside, as I know for certain now someone was playing me.
I have no idea who would have the power to mimic the voice of an Ancestor from beyond the Void, and trick me into thinking they were the drakaina from my bloodline who had created the Black Dragon and subsequently given everything to destroy it.
Not only that, but I also know now that Maryse’s voice inside me was false when it told me to go findUnhaemmerten, and when it encouraged me to break through the stone triptych that guarded the undergroundcathedral. Old Ruta Bein and Maryse’s youngest mate Vjen encouraged us to go, as well, but they were only following up on the message I had already been given by Maryse herself from beyond the Void.
I know I have been duped now, as I take a moment to process.
And understand that listening to the Ancestors is not as easy as I thought.
“Yes… I see that someone lied to you,” Jarl Jorg says as he watches us.
“As a Bloodwalker, I’ve received messages from the Void.” Some part of me hesitates to tell him of my mistake, though I know I need to. “They sounded like voices I trusted… three times now. Encouraging me to go toUnhaemmerten, and break the seals that kept that stone altar safe.”
“Someone is impersonating Ancestors?Throughthe Void?” Annika’s eyebrows go up now, as Mathilde inhales a shocked breath.
“Mormor… is that even possible?” Mathilde turns to her grandmother with enormous eyes.
“I did not think so until this very moment.” Annika blinks at us. Reaching out, she takes my hand. “This is serious, youngling. To my knowledge, never has an Ancestor come through the Void andfalsifiedwho they were. I did not think it was even possible. Ancestors can come through the Void and lie about what they want, to manipulate us into doing their bidding… but neverchange their soul-imprint so entirelythat we do not recognize who they are. On a deep, soul-level, with our Bloodwalker magic.”
“What I felt the first timewasMaryse,” I insist now, knowing why I trusted her when she told me to go toUnhaemmerten. “I never met my Bloodwalker Ancestor who created the Black Dragon, but why would someone impersonate her so thoroughly as to get me to break open that altar?”
“Someone either needed something inside the altar,” Ström says now as he processes, “or they wanted us to let the souls of the Black Dragon Five out and return the Black Dragon to its full power.”
“So everything they did, convincing Rikyava, was just to get the BlackDragon back to full power again?” Bjorn asks as he growls now. Balling his fist, he slams it into the green velvet settee as a furious Bloodwind rushes all around him. “And like fools, we fell for it!”
“Do not blame yourself or your mates, young drake.” Annika is stern as she eyeballs Bjorn. “From what your Bloodwalker says, those voices were so convincing as to trick her most formidable power into thinking they were trusted. A thing that should not be possible.”
“How can I ever contact the Void of Ancestors again, knowing any information I might receive from them might be lies? And never knowing if the person speaking to me is who they say they are?” I feel ill inside, as the one thing I was so certain of in my power feels like treachery.
A pause comes, as neither Jarl Jorg nor Annika have an answer. Annika’s old gaze dips to my chest now, where Aesa’s silver stone hums. It still bolsters me, even though I feel terrible at everything that’s been revealed.
Then something inside me rises, a sensation like a strong drakaina towering over me as she supports my back. She wraps a taloned hand around me, touching one white-gold talon to my chest, and her silver stone there.
It was all for a reason. Hold fast to that.I hear as Aesa whispers all through me.
Somehow, I know that it’s the truth.
“Aesa would not give her Truthstone to just anyone,” Annika says as she watches it. I glance down to see the silver gem swirl with gold and white runes, then flash with that ruby brilliance of Aesa’s red eyes, before it quiets.
“Aesa was the mother of our order, five thousand years ago.” Annika’s gaze meets mine now, an ancient understanding in them. “She was the founder of the original Black Dragon Knights and dedicated her life to bringing down the beast. She was also the sister of your very own Ancestor who created the Black Dragon, youngling; Aesa fashioned her Truthstone to not only always know the truth of things, but to bind her soul beyond death so she could lend her Truth to those in need. Going to her and enduring her Trials was once a secretonly the real Black Dragon Knights knew, as we worked to prevent the demon from rising again in the world. Then, it became a Magnussen tradition, since her bones lay in the lake within their lands where the ancient battle that killed her happened. Never has she given her precious Truthstone to anyone who has sought her answers. That power lies within you, now… we must trust that she has given it to you for a reason. To always know the truth, deep inside. Perhaps because someone has been feeding you falsehoods.”
As Grandma Annika speaks, I feel Aesa’s Truthstone hum at my breast. That humming fills me, as I feel Annika’s words are correct. I don’t know how I know it; as an immense instinct devours me, that feeling growls with a flash of battle-brimstone red all through me.
It resonates with both my inner dragons now, making them feel indomitable as they roar in unison, then twist together into my Bloodwalker power suddenly. I’ve never felt anything like it, as I reach down and touch the silver stone.
Knowing it’s a far greater gift than I could ever understand.
“That’s how you knew how to help us pass the Trials.” I glance at Jarl Jorg. “You knew of Aesa and her Truthstone, deep beneath the lake, and it’s why the Magnussens who stood with Svanhild helped us against their Jarl…because they’re all part of your True Black Dragon Knights.”
“Yes.” Jarl Jorg nods. “I gave you the information I did because I could not in good conscience let you three perish in Jarl Oggi’s vendetta against his son, though some part of me still wondered whether you had invadedUnhaemmertenon purpose. When you three returned successful with such an unfair Trial, and with Aesa’s Truthstone shining upon your breast, I knew. I knew she had seen goodness in you—all of you. And that you had no reason to unleash the Black Dragon Five back to their creation.”
“But why would the souls of the Five return to their diabolical creation, if they were trying to stop it, at the end?” Bjorn asks, always a brain working inside him, though many wrongly assume he’s just brawn.
“Long ago, the Five bound their eternal souls into their creation, to power it and give it mind and flesh,” Jarl Jorg says seriously now. “The full tale has been lost to us; perhaps you will discover more when you can finally go through all the items you retrieved from the altar, but we know the Five bound a part of themselves into the beast to give it life. It was this part of their souls that undid them, as they finally battled the creature and lost to it. In the end, only Aesa was left standing, until she took the original Knights to fight the creature once and for all, at the valley where you had your Trial. She died, but the fierce battle was won through her sacrifice; the black creature was cast down, its bones moved to an ancient island sacred to the Bone Mages. Forever interred, and never again brought to life.”
“Someone awakened it; dug it up by powerful Bone Magic,” Ström says, watching his great-grandfather. “A group of someones, by the extent of the Bloodrune curse-work there, besides the nasty curses from the Black Dragon itself. Maryse was on their trail, and Bintha Lofta… before they were both silenced.”
“Yes.” Jarl Jorg nods as his gaze pins each of us. “Those two are a deep loss to us. Maryse was not ours, but Bintha was, working tirelessly within both the real Knights and the false Knights to keep the last few enclaves of Bone Mages, like ours, safe in the world. She was a brilliant light for our people, Ström. Now, the Knights will be relentless, coming after our kind as they learn about us.”
