Clamping down, as he supports us.
“I’ll hold you both steady in your Bone Magic, so Aesa’s stone doesn’t push you too far,” Bjorn says, as he stands solid behind us. “Ström, try to get inside the drakaina’s power with yours and see her memories rather than your own. We need whatever information she might provide about this battle. It’s the only glimpse into the past any of us are going to get, other than your one memory with your brother.”
None of us fought in the Battle of Riksfold; all of us had been considered too young and were held back as reserve fighters, in case things went disastrously with our King and his sortie against the Ice Dragons. We have no actual memories of the battle, only of coming here to claim our dead. And we need some clue about that small enemy drakaina, some kind of starting place to figure out who she is and how she’s connected to all this.
Which maybe these bones can provide—but only if we stay strong enough to figure it out.
As Ström opens his power now, I feel him slide his energy inside the bones. They open to him gladly; it’s as if this dead Icelandic drakaina, whoever she is, has just been waiting for some other Bone Mage to find her and see her last moments.
She wants to tell her eternal tale, as Ström opens his power and is practically sucked right inside her remains. He sways forward as his power opens to her, and hers opens right back.
Bjorn holds him steady by the shoulder as I ground him with both sides of my Bloodwalker energy now, gripping his hand as he’s sucked into the bones of the dead drakaina.
And we see her memories—flooding to Ström in a tirade.
They’re so fast, even I can hardly make sense of them as they inundate Ström. Something about her tale is so urgent, her last moments so prescient, that we see a scene-for-scene replay of her final memories now on the battlefield.
As she soars high in the bruised late autumn skies, we see they’re thick with fighting; enemies roll and slash, diving on the wind as barrages of vicious icicles and snow-thick gales hammer our people.
We’re fighting back hard with nets and snares of Bloodwind, and enormous volleys of Bloodlances. Ice Dragons are falling, in addition to our kin, though the enemy’s slain are more.
But then, that small enemy drakaina arrives upon the battlefield—blitzing through the cloud-heavy skies and smiting some of the strongest fighters for our King. I see that Bone Mage drakaina seethe through thisIcelandic drakaina’s memories, smiting down Bjorn’s mother, then my parents, then Ström’s brother in quick succession.
She’s a targeted, fast flyer; our bones know instantly who she is, as this Icelandic drakaina roars in to engage her now, furious in the skies.
The enemy Bone Mage was already coming for her, however; this Icelandic drakaina was on her hit list, too, as Bone Magic hits Bone Magic, erupting through the clouds.
The fighting is so thick and fast that nobody has time to see what’s happening with these two drakaina’s signatures as they rip, roar, and wrath at each other. Our enemy Bone Mage seems surprised to see the blue Icelandic drakaina on the field, her red eyes opening wide as our Icelandic drakaina gets her jaws around the enemy’s neck, and crunches down fast.
The blue drakaina puts real power into her bite—Bone Magic power. She punctures so deep, she gets a jugular vein, her power seething into the bite to keep blood flowing and never heal.
The enemy drakaina is just as powerful, though, as she shakes off our Icelandic blue dragon. She barrels back in with a masterful move, getting her talons into this drakaina’s chest.
Ripping out her heart—just like she did to Bintha.
It’s terrible, as our blue dragon’s body falls to the ground. Some part of her knows she’s dead; but the other part of her that lives within her magic has not gone yet, her soul bound to her bones in a way she cannot describe, until she finds resolution.
She’s dead upon the field; all the fighting has stopped, far above. Bodies are littered everywhere. As her dead eye remains on the skies above, we see one last glimpse of that Bone Magic drakaina, blitzing away from the fight.
Other Blood Dragons are here now, families of the dead, arriving to take them home. I don’t know if this memory is before or after Ström saw that same Bone Mage drakaina—but we see a massive gold and black drake soar away beside her now, as our enemy departs.
They hit the clouds and are soon gone, hidden from all those searching for the dead. But I know what we’ve seen, as Bjorn roars in rage, so hard he shakes to his very fundament.
Because we’ve just seen his own father, Jarl Oggi Magnussen, in this blue drakaina’s memories.
Leaving the battle with our enemy Bone Mage at his side.
18
WARN
Bjorn is beside himself with fury as we discover his father was in league with our enemy drakaina, decades ago. As his vicious hate for his father careens inside him, Ström and I grip him, pouring everything we have into him to stop him from shifting.
We might lose Bjorn to his dragon right now in his rage, however; his blazing gold eyes are empty with his Berserker, something I haven’t seen from him in a long while. Bjorn is massive, and ridiculously strong, as he attempts to shake us off. It takes a walloping surge of magic from my Bloodwalker power, combined with Ström’s massive drake, to stop him.
As he heaves hard breaths—livid to the max.
“Bjorn? Are you back?” I gaze up into his searing gold eyes, seeing him returned.
