Souls, ancient and wise.
I feel them surround me now, all those bright stars zooming in as they draw close. They feel me, feel what I am; a Bloodwalker of the ancients, they bow to me, though I don’t actually see any figures doing it.
I feel presences all around me in the Void as I drift there, however, weightless. My kin, my people long dead and gone, they’re here to help me, summoned by whatever Insinio has done.
They’re drawn like fireflies to the light, as I shine like a lodestone now in the darkness. I see that light is coming from Aesa’s silver stone, stillupon my chest, even here in the Void. It swirls crimson, gold, and white, pouring through with ancient rune-work that I have no hope of understanding, as it responds to Insinio’s might.
Aesa herself rises before me now; I see her in the darkness like a shining gold-white light, a massive dragon of white and gold with ruby eyes glittering at me through all that ancient starlight.
Her gargantuan, blocky head is noble; magnificent, her serrated white scales are tipped in gold. Incredible spines shoot from her back like golden spears as she flexes gold-tipped white talons. Glorious, her mantle has ancient gold runic patterns shining through the white. Her eyes blister for battle, brimstone red, though they have a ring of opal white around them.
Turn,she says as she stares at me, raking her powerful talons through the stars.Turn and see yourself, Rikyava…
I turn in the Void. I can see my own dragon-aura now, churning as I float in the darkness along with Aesa. My massive dragon fills my vision; as big as Aesa, maybe even bigger, my Bloodwalker drakaina is towering in her might, with massive serrated scales that shine gold, ruby, and white in the darkness.
But something is wrong with her, as she writhes and coils up into a spiked ball over and over. She’s in pain, as I see millions of tiny and not-so-small holes punched all the way through her.
Bleeding her beautiful light back into the darkness of the stars.
The Council has done far more than Excommunicate you, Bloodwalker,Aesa says now as she turns to me, nodding her tremendous, elegant head at my writhing, keening form.Someone has cursed you so badly that you bleed all your incredible might back to the cosmos from whence it came. It is a move to undo you; to un-make everything you are, and return you to the Ancestors before your time—you and all your drakes. For your life-essence is tied to theirs, and theirs to yours. See. And feel the same holes growing throughout their flesh.
As I look now, I see three different coils of auric energy, streaming from my Bloodwalker drakaina and connecting to my drakes.
In the Void, I see Bjorn’s drake, shining gold with red markings through the darkness, defiant of the night. As he roars, in just as much pain as I am, the dark red and green drake next to him gives a tortured growl, as well.
Ström’s dragon is weathering this agony better, because I see a connection running between him and the next drake, a towering behemoth of black mamba darkness and cruel chartreuse light, feeding Ström some of his power.
But even Mikkel’s dragon has coiled up barbs-out now at what our connection is doing; as I watch, I see all three connections to my drakes pulling from them, sapping them of their power, diminishing and darkening them.
As similar holes open all through their auric flesh also, like a cancer.
My curse. It’s not just draining me, it’s draining them, too, thanks to our Bloodbonds.I know, as I look back at Aesa.Each time my drakes bolster me with their power, their touch, or their sex… it drains more out of them. Before long, they’ll start exhibiting the same memory loss I’m having. The same loss of identity… until it claims us all, completely.
Yes.Aesa stares me down through the Void.But this magic goes far beyond a simple Black Dragon Knight’s Excommunication ritual, Rikyava. I know: I designed that ritual myself. That magic was only a blocking spell to forget one’s home and people if someone opposed the Knights and our One True Mission to bring the Black Dragon down. It was not meant to drain a soul to death… returning them to the Void from which we all come. Only one person’s magic could do that. Only one drakaina I’ve ever known has had the sheer brilliance and utter ruthlessness to design magic like that. My sister, Hedda, originator of the Dragon of All Souls. Beware, for I believe your enemy has discovered Hedda’s magic. And is using it against you… rather than relying on the Black Dragon to bring you down.
Do you know who that person is?I ask urgently now, feeling Insinio’s Archangelic protection beginning to wane as he holds me in the chapel. As it does, I notice a strange, shimmering black barrier begin to condenseall around me. As if cutting me off from Aesa’s soul, I see her brilliant light diminishing, as if falling behind a veil.
That veil shimmers and ripples with an intense oilslick darkness. Burned with caustic crimson-black runes, I understand it’s a separate curse from the one that’s draining me—a curse that has allowed something in the Void to lie to me, over and over, when I tried to contact the Ancestors.
And it’s blocking me off from Aesa now, though she fights to remain connected to me as her Truthstone burns upon my chest.
Right where Insinio’s hand lies, amplifying it.
Insinio blasts more power into my chest, and the cursed veil rolls back. My connection to Aesa brightens, thanks to how Insinio’s keeping that dark veil at bay for the moment. As Aesa roils in the stars, I feel her urgency now, however.
Knowing we’re running out of time to converse.
Trust no one in the Void until the veil surrounding you falls,she says now, pinning me with her burning red eyes.For you are right:an extra curse lies around you, preventing you from truly reaching us, your real Ancestors. Someone is tampering with your Bloodwalker’s ability, in addition to draining you… tricking you and deceiving you to enact their will. Once the Archangel’s blessing goes, do not contact the Ancestors or me again… until you know for certain the curse around you is gone.
How will I know?I ask quickly now, feeling our connection failing again as Insinio’s power is drained.
Aesa has no more time to speak, however, as another presence suddenly pushes into our conversation. A far more intent dragon-soul reaches for me now, the blue Icelandic drakaina from Riksfold punching through the Void, as she roars up before me.
Sky-blue and roiling, tremendous.
Bloodwalker!She hails me in a strong, martial way that makes me understand she’s a fighter to her bones.Your enemy and mineapproaches! Take my blue scale, which you liberated from my death. Find my brother, Baldur Sigurðsson, with it—it shall be your lodestone and draw you to his flesh.
So you are Baldur’s sister, Hekla Sigurðsson,I say now, impressed with this beautiful, fierce drakaina before me.
