Which we’re apparently already standing in—but are not.
What the fuck…?!I breathe through the Void, amazed at what I’m seeing.
It’s phase-shifted. This cavern we’re seeing is not in our dimension, but has been cast out of the Twilight Realm. Placed next to our Realm… by some vastly powerful magic.Baldur says to me now as we gaze down upon that gargantuan hall.
Far bigger than the library, it’s bound by simmering, ancient runes just like in our space, which curl and flow around the slumbering dead dragon-behemoths. Except those runes are far more extensive and ornate,as they seethe across every surface in that ancient chamber, dazzling my mind with the complexity of what’s written there—and how much magic all those runes can hold.
I see now that those other runes form some kind of complex sigil all across the ancient floor of the cavern, which seethes up into the towering dragon-mummies all around, and into the walls and columns.
As Baldur and I contemplate that vast, ancient magic now, I feel him become drawn to it. Not just to figure it out, but wanting to wield it; to unlock its secrets and use that ancient sigil for his own purpose.
It’s his addiction, as Baldur gazes at that ancient space and I feel his light gutter, dark. I move close to him in the Void, taking his hand.
He shocks out of wherever he’d gone, blinking at me.
Let’s go,I tell him now—but not before I note where the epicenter of that sigil is, in our version of reality. It rests right in the center of the silver mirror-stone; as I pinpoint it, I tug Baldur’s hand.
He resists me for a moment, and I have a sudden fear he’s going to fight me, to remain out in the Void and continue contemplating all that vast sigil-magic. But then he comes; we both flood back from the Void, into our bodies, as Baldur’s kiss breaks from me and we heave hard breaths.
All my drakes do too, from our sudden, spontaneous Bloodwalking. We’re back to full power now, however; even though we didn’t have sex to power up, or donate any blood, we’re strong enough as a group now with all our magic being shared many ways, resonating with each other’s, that we didn’t need it.
Still, Bloodwalking is Bloodwalking; I feel how our extended moment in the Void pulled from all of us, since we didn’t engage in a proper ritual to do it. I make a mental note to not do that often, as I rub my chest and recover, feeling drained.
Baldur shivers, blinking off his addiction as he comes back to us as well, his eyes their more normal deep cobalt blue, rather than blue-black. As I nod to the silver mirror-stone, we all turn. We head over, and Bjornuses a gargantuan push of his Bloodwind to heave the stone out of its axis, where it floats ten feet above the ground.
I didn’t think it would work; Bjorn’s packing rather interesting abilities these days, though, as he uses all our amalgamated Bloodwinds to heave the massive floating stone down from the magical vaults that keep it suspended.
As it thunks down to the floor now, rolling like a penny until it finally settles down like a disc, I know this is how we access the Black Dragon’s birthplace.
The insane cavern that is here, but not here right now.
“Focus your minds,” I tell my drakes as we approach the rim of the mirror-stone. “If the mirror shows us what we need to see by focusing our thoughts and intentions, then it will probably take us where we need to go by the same mechanism. So focus all your mind and intention on us finding the birthplace of the Dragon of All Souls. Hopefully, we’ll find what we seek.”
As we move forward, I feel the immense trepidation in each of my drakes. Because portals are tricky things; as each of us focuses on our intention, however, that we intend to find the birthplace of the Dragon of All Souls or die trying, I feel us come to accord.
A deep resonance takes us then, as we all step up onto the massive silver disc. The surface shivers like quicksilver beneath us as we walk across it, ancient rune-phrases whirling all around us upon its silver-patina surface.
I feel how all our focus on the Black Dragon’s birthplace increases tenfold, then a hundredfold as we near the epicenter of the disc. Silver runes swirl in a hurricane beneath us now as we arrive at the mirror’s dead center.
And everything around me vanishes.
Nothing surrounds me, as my world is suddenly swallowed by mist. Something tells me I’ve come through a portal; other than my snarling dragon-instinct, however, the hairs on the back of my neck standing upin shock, nothing else in my body tells me the portal was even there at all.
Because I don’t feel the high whine in my ears from crossing through Realms; I don’t feel the twist in my gut that signifies being wrenched through space and time.
One moment, I was in the library hall; the next, I am here. And this mist is endless, as it swirls all around me with a light blue-white sheen, the same as what I experienced in the triptych mirrors.
Except my drakes are not beside me.
And I cannot feel them—anywhere.
“Bjorn!” I cry out, as terror seizes me, that they are not nearby. “Ström! Baldur! Mikkel! Anyone?!”
My cries are absorbed into the swirling mist, however, the silence deafening. Like being in the world’s worst quiet room, all sound dies here, the moment it leaves my lips.
I can barely even hear my heartbeat as it thunders inside my chest now, my breathing rapid like I’m about to have a panic attack. Because unlike when I was inside the silver triptych mirrors, I can’t feel my Bloodbonds to my drakes here.
All of it—nothing.
