Page 97 of The Dragonrider and the Void
“To prepare you for what comes,” Nix replied enigmatically. “Now we must return. You’ve been gone longer than you realize, and they will be searching for you.”
The vision faded, leaving Lark once again in the Summer Court throne room, the crystal orb now clouded and opaque. She turned to Nix, whose flame had diminished to barely more than embers.
“You knew all along,” Lark said softly. “About the prophecy, about my potential.”
Nix nodded, unable to meet her gaze. “At first, it was just an assignment. I was to watch, not interfere. But as you grew, aswe spent years together,” she flickered briefly brighter. “I came to care what happened to you, Lark. The contract between us became real to me, not just a duty.”
Queen Aurelia’s voice drew Lark’s attention back to the throne. “Now you understand. You were chosen, dragonrider. Prepared for this moment, though the path has been more circuitous than any could have foreseen.”
“The prophecy,” Lark said, finding her voice. “A princess of the North with potential for a dual bond. But I’m not royalty. My cousin sits on the throne of Skol.”
A soft laugh rippled through the courtiers, quickly suppressed.
“Are you not?” Queen Aurelia asked, one perfect eyebrow arched. “Your lineage traces directly to the royal house of Skol through your father’s blood. While you live, you are still the rightful heir to the throne. The power in your veins makes you uniquely suited to the task before you. It is why you were chosen, and why you stand here now, seeking to complete what was set in motion long ago.”
“What happens now?” Lark asked.
Queen Aurelia’s expression grew solemn. “That depends on what you choose to do with this knowledge. The original prophecy spoke not only of your potential to form the dual bond but of your role in renewing the binding ritual. It remains to be seen whether you will fulfill that destiny or falter.”
“I won’t falter,” Lark declared, straightening her shoulders. “I can’t afford to, not with so much at stake. I still need the Summer Court’s contribution to the Vaerdium alloy, and your knowledge of the binding ritual.”
The Queen studied her for another long moment, then smiled.
“Well spoken, daughter of two realms.” She gestured, and an attendant approached bearing a small golden box. “The SummerCourt’s essence awaits its purpose. But be warned, obtaining the cooperation of the remaining courts will not be simple. Particularly the Night Court, which believes itself betrayed by past events.”
“I’ll convince them,” Lark said with determination. “I have to.”
“There is one more thing you should know,” Queen Aurelia said, her voice gentler now. “Time in our realm passes differently than in Sataran, as your companion has surely explained. What feels like days here might be mere hours there, or vice versa. The flow is unpredictable, especially as the Flashover approaches.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that while you gather what you need here, events in Sataran continue to unfold. Your friends may already be attempting the binding ritual without you, using what incomplete knowledge they possess.”
Lark’s heart sank. “Then I need to return as quickly as possible.”
“Indeed.” The Queen rose once more. “I will assign guides to escort you to the other courts. They will vouch for your purpose, though they cannot speak for you. The final decisions rest with each court’s rulers.”
She descended from the dais again, the golden box now in her hands. Opening it, she revealed a small ingot of metal that glowed with the same golden light that permeated the Summer Court, seeming to pulse with an inner heartbeat.
“This is Solarium, the essence of Summer’s generosity and growth,” Queen Aurelia explained. “One of the four components needed for true Vaerdium. Take it, with the understanding that accepting this gift creates a bond of obligation between us.”
Lark hesitated, remembering Nix’s warnings about accepting gifts in the fae realm. “What obligation would this entail, Your Radiance?”
The Queen’s smile deepened with approval at the question. “Should you succeed in binding the Void Drinker, you will return to establish a permanent gateway between our realms, similar to what you created in the Vermillion Keep. The days of isolation between Sataran and the fae realm must end if both are to survive what comes.”
Lark considered this carefully. Such a gateway would have profound implications for both worlds. Yet if managed properly, it could also prevent future threats like the Void Drinker from festering unnoticed in the spaces between realms.
“I accept this obligation,” she said finally, “provided the gateway’s use is governed by mutual agreement between representatives of both realms.”
Queen Aurelia inclined her head in acknowledgment. “Wisely qualified. So be it.” She placed the Solarium ingot in Lark’s hands. The metal was surprisingly lightweight, warm to the touch, and seemed to hum with contained power.
“Now,” the Queen said, stepping back, “prepare yourselves. The journey to the Night Court is perilous even with guides. They have grown defensive in recent centuries. Trust Nix’s counsel, for despite her extended absence, she knows their ways better than any.”
Lark tucked the precious metal carefully into her tunic, then bowed deeply to the Queen. “Thank you for your help and wisdom, Your Radiance.”
“Do not thank me yet, dragonrider of Sataran,” Queen Aurelia replied, her voice carrying a note of warning. “I have merely set you on a more difficult path. The true test awaits in the realm of shadows, where old wounds fester and ancient grievances remain unresolved.”
As they were escorted from the throne room, Lark glanced at Nix, who had remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the exchange.
