Page 40 of The Dragonrider and the Void
“Can you read them?” Venrick asked.
Yarla frowned in concentration. “Some. This part here,” she pointed to a sequence, “is a warning. Something about ‘twin flames’ and ‘convergence.’”
Lark’s pendant warmed against her chest, as if responding to Yarla’s words. Since they had passed through the wards, Nix was reluctant to emerge. The Entity’s lingering effects on this place spooked the fire fae, though Lark occasionally felt her presence through their bond. Now, the pendant pulsed with gentle heat, almost like encouragement.
“Let’s go inside,” Lark said, pushing through the massive doors.
The interior of the archives was a battlefield of knowledge. Shelves lay toppled, their precious scrolls and tomes scattered across the stone floor. Glass display cases had been shattered. The contents had been either stolen or destroyed. The high ceiling, once adorned with intricate mosaics, was now cracked and blackened from White Eye’s fire during their fight against the rimeshade.
“Ash,” Venrick swore, taking in the destruction. “Was this all the Entity’s doing?”
“Yes,” Lark replied, stepping carefully over shards of glass. “But it destroyed far more than it needed to. It was, angry. It was lashing out at those who imprisoned it.”
Yarla moved deeper into the archives, her steps growing steadier as if the presence of long-lost knowledge revitalized her. She knelt beside a pile of scattered scrolls, her slender fingers gently unrolling one after another.
“Most of these are damaged beyond reading,” Lark said.
“Look at this,” Yarla said, holding up a fragment, its edges burned. “This mentions something called, ‘the first binding.’”
Venrick and Lark gathered around her as she smoothed the parchment against the floor.
“This is written in the old elven verse. I can translate,” the healing elf said, taking a moment to clear soot from the script. “When twelve wings of flame met twelve shadows of night, their combined power forged the chains that would hold the ‘Void Drinker’ beneath the stone,” Yarla read. “This must be in reference to the Entity’s original imprisonment.”
“Twelve wings of flame...” Venrick mused. “The original twelve dragons?”
“And twelve shadows of night,” Lark added. “The fae? That would explain the dual language in the binding runes.”
Yarla nodded. “It makes sense. Neither dragons nor fae could contain it alone, but together... There’s more,” she went on, her eyes scanning further down the fragment. “The keystone of realms shall keep the doorway sealed, so long as the twin powers remain in balance.”
“If it was already out of its prison, why would it want to steal the key, if that’s what the Realmstone is?” Lark said.
Venrick moved away from them to examine the far wall of the archives where a massive sheet on the wall had survived the destruction. He pulled on it and it dropped away to reveal an intact mosaic. “Hey, look at this,” he called.
The large mosaic depicted a gathering of dragons and mostly human-like figures that were divine in their physical appearance. Their teeth were fanged in the front, their eyes angled with slitted pupils. Horns emerged from their thick heads of hair, and each was equipped with a set of wings that were folded at their backs.
“These are the fae Nobility, representatives of the fae courts,” Lark said, placing her hand on the forms that were rendered in colored stone and precious metals.
At the center of the mosaic was a swirling darkness. It was being contained by streams of power flowing from both groups.Above the scene, a rectangular stone glowed with a bright light as the duality of energies, dragon and fae, merged.
“The first binding,” Lark whispered.
Venrick pointed to an inscription beneath the mosaic. “This is in elvish too. Can you read it, Yarla?”
The elf crouched, her fingers hovering over the verse. “The Concordat of Flame and Shadow stands as witness to this binding. So long as both powers flow through the Realmstone, the Void Drinker shall remain imprisoned between worlds, unable to consume the essence of either realm.”
“The Concordat,” Venrick repeated. “An alliance between dragons and fae?”
“More than an alliance,” Lark said. “It was a magical pact. Look.” She pointed at the symbols at the edges of the mosaic. “Those runes are binding signatures. Half of them are in the old riders’ language. The others are fae.”
“They must represent the original twelve dragons and these twelve representatives from the fae courts,” Venrick said.
Lark’s pendant grew warmer still. “My bond with Nix is how I was able to tap into the flow of powers and try to repair the wards. The original bindings used both types of magic, woven together,” she said.
“Yarla, you worked with the Magi Order before your capture,” Venrick said. “Did you ever hear them mention anything about this Concordat?”
Yarla shook her head. “No, but I wasn’t privy to their innermost circles. I was posing as an apprentice scribe to gather information for Cheyanne.”
Venrick frowned, running his hand along the edge of the mosaic. “This doesn’t line up with what we’ve been taught. Dragons working with the fae after they came to Sataran? They were in a civil war back in the fae realm. I’ve always been taught that the fae and Sataran’s dragons were adversaries.”
