Page 4 of Vicar
Though torn, wanting more answers, he would protect Tor above all others because if whatever was building inside Raven unleashed on him, Vicar knew it would be the end of Tor. No one could survive it.
“Oh, dear,” Elsie exclaimed, admirably level despite the three water spouts that had formed over the dark sea as it sucked back, indicating an incoming tsunami. She waved loosely at the terror unfolding and ushered Raven inside the best she could. “That needs to be dealt with immediately.”
Meanwhile, Tor seemed frozen in place, staring at Raven like she had come for his soul. Like he might even deserve it.
“Go,” Dagr roared at Vicar again, frowning at the weather and ocean. “Maya and I will handle this.”
Vicar nodded and flew back down the stairs, fighting the wind as the tornadoes grew closer, undoubtedly hungry for Tor.
“Come, brother.” He didn’t waste time trying to convince Tor but clasped his shoulders and drove him back against the tree, willing it to take them where it would.
Willing it, if possible, to help him pursue Trinity.
Thankfully, it took them swiftly. Unfortunately, he had no idea where they ended up when the tree vanished, and they were thrust into complete darkness.
Until their dragon sight took over, that is.
“Where are we?” he grunted. While tempted to study their surroundings, his Sigdir side had surfaced just enough to keep putting Tor first. He frowned at his cousin. “Are you well now? You seemed...”
Before he could say terrified, something no male dragon wanted to be called, Tor nodded and met his frown. “All is well.”
“What happened? It appeared—”
“All’s well,” Tor reiterated. Rather than focus on his own issues, he clasped Vicar’s shoulders and met his eyes. “What of you, brother? Have you leveled some?” Before Vicar could respond to the one person outside of Trinity who could pull his Sigdir side back to the surface, Tor’s brows shot up in surprise. “It seems you are without me doing a thing.”
Vicar frowned and rolled his shoulders, realizing Tor was right. His Sigdir side was sidling right past his inner Múspellsheimr no matter how much he tried to fight it.
Tor narrowed his eyes, sensing him easily enough. “Why would you try to fight it?”
“I don’t know.” He raked a hand through his hair, as always, jarred by his personalities transitioning. The sense of lightheartedness he wasn’t sure he should feel. “Something about Trinity...” Vicar glanced around, still trying to pinpoint their location. “It’s starting to feel familiar here, but I’ve never been...” He trailed off when he spied the slight sparkle of a cave. “Itcannotbe.”
Tor flinched when he realized where they were too. One of the very few caves influenced by Alfheim, or elven magic, in the Realm. They had no idea why their great serpent ancestor Níðhöggr had used part of their world when making this Realm, considering it was generally off-putting to dragons, but he had. While Tor might have explored these caves in their youth, Vicar’s Múspellsheimr side had disliked them immensely, so he’d avoided them like the plague.
Yet now, here he was, and, alarmingly enough, he felt rather at ease.
“Do you?” came an all-too-familiar voice from deep in the darkness. “Areyou at ease now, Vicar?”
Trinity.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to catch sight of her, but she kept well hidden. Intrigued rather than upset like his other half would have been, he grinned, wondering at her game. “Why not come closer and find out, Trinity?”
“Because you’re just a little bit terrifying when you’re in a Múspellsheimr mood,” she replied. “And I’m not up for it right now.”
“Where sometimes you are?” he responded, certain of it, feeling her from the inside out for a flicker of a moment. “Why is that?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” she returned, keeping with an honesty his Sigdir side appreciated. One his Múspellsheimr half would distrust. “Who are you to me, Vicar? How do I know you?”
Because theydidknow each other, didn’t they?
“It must be like it was for Thorulf and Jade,” Tor suggested. “They knew each other long before they met but had no recollection of it.”
“Impossible,” he muttered. He loved his brother but refused to believe such a thing could happen to him too. “If my Sigdir side didn’t recall it, my Múspellsheimr half surely would have.”
Yet a nagging voice in his mind, his inner Sigdir, told him it was possible.
“Come closer, Trinity,” he urged. “I won't hurt you.”
“I know,” she returned. “But your Múspellsheimr side will.”
