Dragons of the Dawn Bringer: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 5

by Araya Evermore

  Ayeth turned to it and smiled as someone stepped through the light into the cavern. The light faded and Lona stood there. She was dressed in black; shimmering leggings and a tunic that floated around her. The black clothing made her bald head and pristine, alabaster face appear even whiter.

  She looked up at Ayeth, smiling, and lifted a hand to caress the back of his neck. Ayeth stroked her cheek. She glanced at Freydel, her all-black eyes shining. Her strangely beautiful but disturbing features were impossible to read. Freydel shivered in spite of himself.

  ‘Your friend has returned,’ she purred.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ayeth, taking her hand and leading her over. ‘As I told you, together we are learning a great many things.’

  A deep smile curved Lona’s colourless lips as she looked at Freydel. He felt very uncomfortable. Which was irrational, he told himself. Maybe he found her beautiful alienness just too much to take. But it was more than that; the magic flowed darkly around her. He couldn’t quite call it the Flow, for here on Aralansia it moved and felt different to Maioria’s energy. From that, he assumed that each planet’s life magic behaved differently.

  ‘Then maybe I should go,’ she said, her eyes never leaving Freydel.

  ‘No, please don’t. Stay with us. You can teach him things too,’ said Ayeth, much to Freydel’s disappointment. He wanted Ayeth to himself and didn’t feel comfortable talking about the future with her there. But she was a completely different, fascinating species and she might be able to show him something wonderful, he consoled himself.

  ‘We were discussing again the destruction of our beloved Aralansia and searching for how it might come to pass. Can you believe he says I will do this? Hah! Unbelievable. The human doesn’t lie. If this is a possible timeline, then it must be explored and understood if it’s to be stopped. Freydel, please continue,’ Ayeth gestured with a smile.

  ‘Yes, where was I,’ Freydel tried to recall their prior conversation and remembered seeing the planet crumbling. It tied in with the vision Issa had shared with him. He wanted to change the subject now Lona was here, but the expectation in Ayeth’s eyes drove him on.

  ‘There is a great cataclysm which destroys the planet, and maybe others too. It has something to do with the pyramids, or maybe they were being used to try to stop it, I cannot be sure. But after—how long after is anybody’s guess—there exists what we call a Dark Rift created in the fabric of our universe.’

  ‘An empty hole,’ Ayeth nodded thoughtfully. ‘These holes are created when planets unnaturally disappear or are destroyed.’

  ‘The Anukon have threatened us with it. We have seen it in our shared dreams,’ hissed Lona, her black eyes turning even darker.

  Ayeth laid a comforting hand on her arm and continued speaking. ‘Destroyed planets create a vacuum, an emptiness in the fabric of the space and time where they once had been. This sounds like the Dark Rift of which you speak. It is possible to fix them by sewing it together with powerful magic. The crystal pyramids can be used to do this.’

  ‘They can also be used to create them,’ said Lona, tossing her head proudly.

  ‘They have the power to create holes in the universe and then mend them?’ asked Freydel, trying to imagine anything with the power to destroy entire planets.

  ‘Yes. They are powerful technologies which can be used to do great and marvellous things,’ said Lona, sweeping her hand high. The keenness in her eyes disturbed Freydel.

  ‘The Anukon,’ she growled the name and scowled, her pretty face turning ugly, ‘dared to use them on us and invade Yurgharon. But we, the Yurgha, with our superior intellect, reverse-engineered their technology and fought them back.’

  ‘Then perhaps that is how Aralansia is destroyed,’ said Freydel.

  The Aralan stood silent. Pain and confusion passed across his features. Seeing Ayeth upset offered Freydel some relief. He was still a long way away from becoming the beast Baelthrom.

  ‘We must never fear the future,’ said Ayeth. ‘Especially not now when we might have the power to change it. Time is a malleable thing, and there are many timelines spanning out from a single moment.’

  Freydel nodded, pleased to have someone agree with his concept of time. ‘Indeed, what we do now could change the course of history. The Dark Rift grows in Maioria’s skies day after day, year after year. No one has the power or knowledge to stop it. Many more will die if we allow it to consume us.’

  ‘Die,’ Lona mouthed the word, a frown on her face. ‘The Anukon make us weak and the Rorsken make us die.’ A mad rage flickered across her features and was gone just as quickly.

  ‘You will overcome the sickness they brought, I promise,’ Ayeth said, casting a look of such love at Lona that Freydel felt moved.

  Lona slid a sideways smile at Freydel. ‘Neither magic nor technology are evil, they just are what they are. It’s how they are used that dictates their purpose.’

  ‘No. Where I am from, some magic is evil, though I cannot speak about technology for I am no technician,’ Freydel argued. ‘Certain magic comes from demons, others from the black arts and some from what we call the Under Flow—that which comes out of the Dark Rift.’

  Ayeth sighed. ‘There is something missing, something not quite right. I don’t disbelieve anything you say, you speak the truth. I can see it in your aura. But I still don’t understand. You talk about your ancient ancestors as if they are not within you. Your physical records were destroyed, yes, but each race carries its race memory within itself, in its blood and the tiny parts of which we are made.’

  Freydel frowned then realisation dawned. ‘Ah, racial memory. Only dragons and Wykiry still have the ability to read their race history. Not beings like me. Our most ancient legends say we lost it when we began to die. I guess we have fallen very far indeed.’

  ‘That’s so awful,’ said Ayeth, shaking his head and leaning on his hands upon the crystal pedestal. ‘What being can forget itself like this?’

  ‘A race who does not know itself is weak and easily ruled, like an animal,’ Lona scowled.

  Freydel was surprised at the venom in her voice. Ayeth gave her a softening glance and her scowl faded into a look of such pain, Freydel was taken aback. The female hurt deeply, she was mad with it.

  Ayeth turned to Freydel, concern on his face. ‘How can you know anything if you don’t know who and what you are? It is incredible to think that this can be done to a race. To think that I might have done… Forgive me for talking plainly, but a race without knowledge of its history—how do you even know who you are?’

  Freydel shrugged. ‘I guess we don’t. Our days have grown dark and they turn darker still. I think we are in our last moments.’

  ‘You say I come to your planet out of this Dark Rift?’ said Ayeth.

  Lona moved away into a darker part of the cavern but Freydel could feel her eyes watching him. When he glanced in her direction, he saw their gleam. As he spoke, she appeared undisturbed by the things he was saying, unlike Ayeth who struggled.

  ‘It’s hard to say, but you arrived like a falling star. The history we do have is incomplete and confusing. The Dark Rift appeared first at some point, and out of it, you fell.’

  ‘I came out of an empty hole? Is that possible?’ Ayeth’s eyes were wide.

  ‘The Anukon travel through them when they have drained enough energy from a host planet,’ said Lona, stepping forwards slightly so the blue light of the cavern fell on her face and gleamed off her shiny black clothing. ‘As we continue to fight them and the Rorsken, we learn more about their technologies and magic.’

  ‘You arrived scattered, so the legends say,’ Freydel continued. ‘There were certain beings on Maioria who prophesied your coming. Not good beings but those who live in the shadows and work black arts. They study the darkness and revel in death. They found your scattered parts and put you back together again. Your consciousness, once whole, chose a mix of physical forms and created an incredible, abominable chimera in which to put itself.
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  ‘You don’t remember who you are because of the scattering, but you know why you came—to destroy races. You persecuted those we call the Ancients. It seems they are descended from the original Aralans who came to Maioria. They are all gone now, apart from two.’

  Ayeth covered his eyes with his hand. Freydel felt immense pity for him. How hard must it be to discover you will become a monster?

  ‘I don’t know what would make me do this,’ Ayeth said.

  ‘Why you end up hating your own people? I do not know,’ Freydel said quietly.

  Lona nodded. ‘They are always difficult with you, even now. They forget that you are chosen.’

  ‘Why would Arzanu choose me if I am to fail?’ Ayeth shook his head.

  The name made Freydel start. ‘Who is Arzanu?’

  ‘Arzanu is the great being who made us, our creator and guardian,’ Ayeth’s eyes shone with reverence as he spoke. ‘Arzanu is our Great Mother created by the One Source to create us.’

  Freydel felt faint and leant against the cool crystal wall.

  ‘What is it? Are you sick? Here, let me help,’ Ayeth came over and laid a cool hand on Freydel’s forehead. The dizziness stopped as energy flowed into him, giving him strength. Knowledge seemed to flow from Ayeth’s hand as well, again rekindling his insatiable desire to know more.

  ‘We call her Zanufey,’ Freydel said after a moment. ‘The Goddess of the Night. She has come to Maioria. She has awakened with the rising indigo moon.’

  Freydel glanced at Lona as she stepped back into the shadows. She wasn’t looking his way but her perfect features were creased in deep concern. Did talk of this Arzanu worry her? Perhaps the Yurgha feared other peoples’ gods.

  ‘Then she must be one and the same,’ Ayeth nodded, wonder in his eyes. ‘By Arzanu’s blessing, I was given great power—power to heal others, not to destroy. So you can see why the things you tell me cause me great pain.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t want to be the one to tell you,’ said Freydel, moved. ‘Perhaps they will never come to pass.’

  ‘How can I be chosen, only to fall?’ Ayeth whispered to himself.

  Lona moved fully out of the darkness this time and came to stand beside Ayeth, laying a pale hand on his arm.

  Ayeth looked at her and seemed to grow stronger, calmer. He turned to Freydel. ‘You say that it is the wisdom of the orb you carry that brought you here. To somehow undo what will happen. You call it the Orb of Undoing. But there is something I see that you do not seem to. Did you know the orb is undoing you too? It is destroying you in some way.’

  Freydel dropped a hand to his pocket, fear gnawing at him. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Your physical body is strong enough but I can see your soul is weakening—it’s being drained by the orb every moment. Sometimes objects of power require a price to be used, a cost. I can help you reverse the drain of magical objects on your life force. I can show you how to draw back the power it has taken from you so it does not bleed you dry. This orb’s magic is very potent, yes, but it is incomplete, somehow.’

  Freydel couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He took the orb out and stared into its shimmering black surface. Both Ayeth and Lona came close. Could the orb be destroying him? He didn’t feel anything obvious. Nothing in the texts about the orbs said they took anything from their Keeper. Could it be a side effect the Ancients never knew about? Was it unique to only the Orb of Destruction by its very nature? Ayeth could be wrong but he doubted it. Perhaps he would be better without it, but he knew he’d rather die than give up his object of power.

  ‘I don’t feel any different, but it is incomplete,’ Freydel murmured. ‘To protect the life-magic of Maioria from falling into Baelthrom’s hands, the Ancients split it.’

  Lona licked her lips as she gazed at the orb, making him nervous. Ayeth looked away as if struggling with something but his eyes were soon drawn back to its shining black surface.

  ‘The link to me now and what I will become in the future lies in this orb for it can reach through time and space,’ breathed Ayeth, his eyes full of wonder. ‘I must stop this Dark Rift from ever being created.’

  Lona’s eyes widened and she took a step back as if afraid. Catching Freydel’s gaze, her features smoothed over and she looked serene again. What did she know of the Dark Rift and why was it important to her? Was she afraid of losing Ayeth?

  ‘Perhaps if I can reach the being I will become, I can stop myself becoming it,’ Ayeth said in barely a whisper. ‘With the orb, we can try, for both you and the orb and I are anchored there.’

  The thought of Ayeth meeting Baelthrom filled Freydel with foreboding. ‘I don’t think meeting your future self is a good idea,’ Freydel shook his head, trying to reason through why it was a bad idea and struggling.

  ‘You will be horrified. How you look now is very different to the monstrosity you will become. Just seeing yourself could destroy you. Baelthrom will also try to consume you and your magic.’

  A frown passed across Ayeth’s brow and he dropped his eyes in disappointment. ‘I would do anything to stop the terrible destruction you have shown me. I will pledge my life to stopping it. I was given the gift to heal, not to destroy.’

  Freydel saw nothing but deep concern and honesty in Ayeth’s dark blue eyes.

  ‘Baelthrom desires this orb and its sisters, like nothing else,’ Freydel explained. ‘He knows that when he has them all, he controls the life-magic of Maioria. Even if I could get close to him—which is nigh on impossible anyway—I would not for the safety of the orb.’

  ‘I am certain that within this Baelthrom, a part of me still resides, must reside,’ Ayeth continued. ‘I just have to reach that part. Perhaps from here, with the power of the crystals, we could reach him in safety. I would pledge myself to you so I can never harm you.’

  ‘If an Aralan pledges themselves to you, they are incapable of bringing you harm,’ said Lona, her eyes glittering. Freydel raised his eyebrows. Lona shrugged. ‘To harm the ones to whom they are pledged brings the same harm upon themselves. It is just the way they were created.’

  Freydel considered this for a long moment. There were old Maiorian legends and fairy tales about beings who, once pledged to another, would be incapable of harming the other without harming themselves. Could these ancient stories be from the Aralans who reached Maioria so long ago? Witches’ familiars were similar; they could not harm their owners.

  A thought occurred to him that was both worrying and seemed like an excellent idea. After the terrible murder of Coronos, worry for the safety of his orb still consumed him. What if he was murdered and lost the orb in a similar manner? He desperately needed a Second Keeper for safety’s sake. He’d chosen Issa but when she mentioned recombining the orbs, he’d hesitated. Her idea chilled him to the bone.

  It was very dangerous to combine objects of magic even if one knew how to do so. The power of just one orb was too much to hold, but the power of two? Who could hold it? It could be catastrophic. And who, then, would be its Keeper? It was far harder for Baelthrom to chase several orbs rather than one. No, they should not be combined. But the decision had left him with a nagging feeling and no suitable Secondary Keeper to name.

  He glanced at Ayeth and Lona who had finished talking amongst themselves and now were watching him. ‘We have decided that, no matter how painful it might be, we should see this Baelthrom,’ said Ayeth, his pale, gleaming face unreadable. ‘Just an image in the orb…Maybe I can in some way understand it.’

  Freydel beheld Ayeth, seeing everything that a noble being of great power and influence should be; intelligent, gracious and valiant. Here was one chosen by Zanufey just as Issa was—one chosen by a goddess to hold the power to help others. If he could not trust Ayeth, he could not trust anybody. He worried his beard.

  Baelthrom was twisted and corrupt, just as Keteth was. If he showed Ayeth the horror of what he would become, maybe that would be so repulsive and disturbing Ayeth would never be able to become
it. Could it even be enough to change a timeline?

  ‘All right,’ Freydel nodded. ‘I will show you Baelthrom from the orb’s memory. Maybe it will give you understanding.’

  Freydel watched as the crystal pedestal rose underneath Ayeth’s outstretched hand, unease riddling through him. The pale crystal slid smoothly and stopped at waist height without making a noise. With an encouraging motion of Ayeth’s six-fingered hand, Freydel placed the orb upon the pedestal. He reluctantly drew his hand away from its cold black surface. It was the first time it had left his touch in this world.

  ‘I give you my word, on my life you can trust me,’ Ayeth said. ‘I will not try to take your orb and I refuse to become this Baelthrom.’

  A wave of sincerity emanated from Ayeth, leaving Freydel in no doubt that he would be true to his word. Freydel dared to relax, his inner turmoil easing. He was saving the world, he reminded himself. He was saving two worlds.

  ‘Show us a shielded image of Baelthrom,’ Freydel commanded the orb, emphasising the word “image” for added safety. He held his breath as triangular red eyes formed upon its surface.

  Ayeth waved a hand, magic moved, and the red eyes were projected and enlarged two feet out from the orb. Freydel jumped back.

  ‘We are safe,’ Ayeth quickly reassured.

  Freydel gripped his staff, not quite believing it, then stared in awe as the orb projected life-sized images in front of his face. His awe turned to horror as the tripartite helmet and metal face of Baelthrom formed around the eyes. His massive, black-armoured body materialised, leathery black wings spread wide, and thick-clawed, lizard legs bulged muscle. The projection was so real it seemed as if he stood in the room. Freydel took another step back and held his staff before him, his heart pounding.

  Ayeth held up his hand for calm. ‘No vision can harm us, and especially not here.’ He turned back to the image, his slanted eyes impossibly wide as he looked at his future self. Freydel took his expression to be one of horror as he stared at Baelthrom.