Page 118 of The Dragonrider and the Void
Sasja grabbed Hardin’s arm, her expression grim but resolved. “We’ll tell him,” she promised. “Now do what you need to do.”
As they retreated toward a partially intact staircase, Lark turned back to the Vaerdium matrix. The binding was failing; the opposing magics were coming apart without a vessel to unite them. The Void Drinker sensed the weakness. He pressed against the containment, his darkness and starlight pulsing with renewed vigor.
“Nix,” Lark said softly. “I need you with me.”
The fire fae moved closer, her flame steady despite the tears that seemed to form and evaporate in her eyes. “Always,” she replied.
Lark plunged Nightfang into the center of the well, the brismil blade sinking to its hilt in what should have been empty space. The sword stood upright, lodged into the void, creating a focal point for the binding. Taking a deep breath, she stepped onto the Vaerdium ring itself.
The metal responded instantly, flowing up around her brismil-armored boots, anchoring her to the circle. The sensation was strange. She became weightless. Sensations like temperature, sound, and touch became nothing. The void between realms was a state between matter of physical worlds and she was positioned between them.
Around her, the tear in reality continued to shrink as the binding took hold, forcing the Void Drinker back toward the well. But without a vessel to complete the circuit, the Entity remained partially free, fighting with the strength of an aethereal being.
“It’s not enough,” Barrik called, backing away as debris that continued to fall around them. “You need to fully commit yourself to become the vessel.”
Lark knew what that meant.I need to surrender myself completely to the ritual to become the bridge between realms.I’ll neither be fully in Sataran nor fully in the fae realm, but suspended between, maintaining the bond that kept the Void Drinker contained.
She thought of Venrick, fighting above to buy them time. Of White Eye, channeling his power and that of the other dragons to strengthen the binding. Of her promise to the Winter Court, to remain in the fae realm after the ritual was complete.
But this wasn’t what Winter meant,she considered, then realized.They knew I had to be the vessel.
“Barrik,” she called to him as he remained nearby despite the danger. “Make sure the gateways between realms are established. It’s a condition of the deal I made with the fae courts. Equal representation, mutual protection.”
He gave her a knowing smile, and said, “You have my word, Ella.”
“Your word is not your bond, Barrik,” she replied with a grim smile. “But I know your greed will die along with the rest of our world if we fail. And that has to be enough.”
She turned to Nix, who hovered at eye level, her flame a comforting presence in the chaos. “Stay with me,” she requested. “Whatever happens next.”
“Until the end,” Nix promised.
Lark placed both hands on Nightfang’s hilt, feeling the brismil respond to her touch. Through it, she could sense the energies swirling within the well, the ancient magic of the binding ritual awakening after centuries of dormancy. Drawing a final deep breath, she channeled everything she had into thesword. She called on all her power, all her will, and with all her being.
The Vaerdium matrix blazed with sudden, blinding light. The runes carved into the sanctuary floor activated in sequence, creating a pattern that spread outward from the central well in ever-widening circles. The void contracted sharply, forcing the Void Drinker downward toward the well.
“No!” it raged, its form distorting as the binding took hold. “I will not be contained again!”
“You will,” Lark countered, her voice carrying a strange resonance as the energies flowed through her.
The Entity fought frantically, but it was too late. The combined power of dragon and fae magic, channeled through the Vaerdium matrix and focused by Lark as the vessel, created a binding too powerful for the Entity to resist. The Void Drinker’s form compressed; smoke-filled darkness and starlight collapsed inward until it was forced entirely into the well.
As the Entity disappeared, the Realmstone separated from its form, hovering momentarily before Lark. The rectangular stone pulsed once, twice, then shattered into four equal fragments that scattered to the cardinal points of the Vaerdium matrix.
The binding is complete.
Lark felt herself changing, her very essence being woven into the ritual. She was becoming something else. She was becoming neither fully human nor fully fae, neither entirely of Sataran nor entirely of the fae realm. The vessel, the bridge, the guardian of the binding.
Around her, the sanctuary continued to collapse, but now with a strange, almost deliberate rhythm.
It’s not being destroyed,she realized. The sanctuary is reforming, becoming something new to house the binding for centuries to come.
“It’s done,” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure if the words were spoken aloud or only in her mind.
The last thing she saw before her consciousness faded was a golden shape plummeting through the ruined ceiling.
Ingamar?she thought.
She wasn’t certain, but it looked like Venrick was seated proudly on his back, diving toward her at top speed. That’s when darkness enveloped her
