Page 70 of The Dragonrider and the Void
A chill settled into the chamber, jerking Lark from her half-dreams. The torches burned lower, their flames unnaturally still as frost spread across the floor in delicate, crystalline patterns.
“A dragonrider bonded to a dragon and a fire fae,” a voice like cracking glacial ice spoke from the shadows. “How unusual.”
The Void Drinker materialized before her; its form more solid than in the library but still flowing like smoke. It had taken on a human shape of a tall figure with features that shifted subtly between male and female, old and young. Only the eyes remained constant appearing as two swirling voids flecked with silver starlight.
“You’ve caused quite the disruption to my plans,” it said, moving closer. “The ritual pages scattered, the King’s control slipping. Most inconvenient.”
Lark met its gaze despite the cold dread pooling in her stomach. “Sorry to disappoint.”
The Entity laughed. “Oh, I’m not disappointed. Merely, adjusting. Plans spanning centuries require flexibility.”
It circled her, trailing tendrils of darkness that brushed against the floor. Where they touched, frost patterns spread outward in a pattern that mirrored the runes on the walls.
“Your dual bond fascinates me,” it continued. “Dragons and fae have been adversaries since before humans walked Sataran. Yet here you stand, bridging worlds that have hated each other for millennia.”
“I’ve never understood why people find it so surprising. The histories say the dragons fled the fae realm following their oppression. Are they not fae as well?” Lark said carefully.
The Void Drinker’s form rippled with what might have been amusement. “Is that what they taught you? How charmingly simplistic.” It paused directly before her. “The dragons did not flee oppression, dragonrider. They fled guilt.”
Lark frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The original twelve dragons were not victims. They were jailers. Tasked alongside the fae courts to ensure I remained… contained.” It gestured to the runes on the walls. “With bindings much like these that I have recreated in this chamber. But the dragons grew tired of their duty. There were those among them who were weak and saw opportunity in this new realm. Those you hold in such high esteem abandoned their charge.”
“This story you’re making up. It won’t work on me. I know you’re lying,” Lark said.
“Am I? Ask your dragon, if you ever become reunited again.” The Entity’s form solidified further, becoming almost completely human save for the eerie eyes. “The fae courts were left alone to maintain the bindings. They failed, of course. And in their failure, the first rimeshade were born. Fae of the noble houses were corrupted by exposure to my essence.”
Lark’s mind raced, comparing this account with what they’d learned in the Northern Sanctuary. The dual script of the binding runes, the ritual requiring both types of magic workingtogether to empower the runes, the Concordat. White Eye’s ancestral knowledge proved that fae who were left behind in Sataran had been transformed into the rimeshade by the Entity’s influence. They had been altered to act as servants to this otherworldly creature. This version of events was possible. It suggested the dragons bore responsibility for weakening the barriers that kept the Void Drinker contained.
“If what you say is true,” Lark said slowly, “it doesn’t justify what you’re doing now. Harvesting magic from living beings, corrupting people like the King and members of the Magi Order to create instability in the world.”
“Justify?” The Entity seemed genuinely puzzled. “I do not seek to justify, merely to exist. To feed. To grow.” It reached out, one finger nearly touching Lark’s cheek but stopping just short. “Just as you do not justify breathing.”
A chill so cold came over her, shaking her to her core. The casual indifference in its voice was more terrifying than the revenge-fueled malice she was expecting.
“The Flashover approaches,” it continued. “The barriers between realms grow thin, even as we sit here. The powerful beings you call your Gods will become exposed. It’s the one time every five hundred years they are vulnerable. With the Realmstone, I can ensure that gateway between the worlds they lord over becomes permanent. All realms, accessible to all beings in existence all the time. You can’t imagine what it’s like to have that amount of power flowing freely between worlds. No more need for bonding to access power. No more need for squabbling over Hyalites and Yogo Sapphires. The energy will be there and all I have to do is take it.”
“You would feed on all of it, taking every source of magic for yourself? I don’t believe you could contain it,” Lark said.
“I am generous with my favored servants. They would receive what I could afford to spare.” The Entity gestured againto the runes. “These bindings, they’re like everything in this realm, imperfect. Not even the hasty adaptations of the original sanctuary’s defenses are truly imprisoning. There are always gaps. Always ways to get around them.”
Lark kept her expression neutral, though her heart quickened. Was the Void Drinker inadvertently giving her information she could use?
“Why tell me this?” she asked.
“Because, dragonrider with the fae bond, you have a choice to make.” It leaned closer, its breath like a winter wind against her face. “Serve willingly, and I will grant you power beyond imagination. Your bonds would grow stronger, not weaker. Your dragon and fae would be elevated alongside you.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I will feed on your essence anyway, drop by precious drop, until nothing remains but an empty shell.” The Entity straightened. “Consider carefully. The binding ritual your half-elf escaped with is incomplete. The pages contain only part of the knowledge needed.”
Lark fought to keep her expression neutral at the clues the Entity was delivering.
“Barrik, your mentor who worked with those on your mother’s side if I’m not mistaken, holds a critical piece of information,” the Void Drinker continued, watching her reaction closely. “He believes he can control the rimeshade. He thinks he can use me to reshape Nordraven into an almighty empire. An empire with him at its helm and loyalists like his son as the King Regents subordinate to him. Ambitious, but ultimately futile.”
“Where is Barrik now?” Lark asked, unable to contain her curiosity.
“Seeking the final pieces in the sanctuary beneath the Keep in Wintermire. But he’ll need to get around my shades. Thorgan will give his life to stop Barrik. The Warlock King has been auseful tool. But like the Magus Joc, Thorgan’s greed makes him disposable. Either Barrik succeeds in his quest in Wintermire, and he continues to foolishly try to control me, or Thorgan will dispose of him and we’ll both be rid of that nuisance.” The Entity’s form began to dissipate, darkness reforming into tendrils of shadow. “Think on my offer, dragonrider. When I return, I will require your answer.”
