But this is a desert, Aiden thought, his gaze sweeping across the endless, hostile landscape. There was no way to confirm it here. Must I wait a century?
A fragnt of forbidden knowledge from the Heritage surfaced in his mind. It spoke of the Centurial Madness(life sacrifice), a ti when the will of a sub-plane itself would descend upon its inhabitants, driving them into a frenzy of mutual slaughter. The fallen creatures would dissolve back into the earth, their life essence becoming sustenance for the plane—a primitive, horrifying thod of growth.
Aiden looked down, his vertical pupils fixed on the shifting sands below. A cold certainty, a gut instinct deeper than thought, coiled in his belly. This place is a sub-plane. He had no way of knowing how far the cycle had progressed, or how long it would be until the next wave of madness consud this world.
Azure watched him, her blue eyes sharp. She saw the grim turn of his thoughts. If Aiden's suspicion was correct, their situation was dire.
“Why?” she asked, her voice a low rumble. “Why do you suddenly believe this is a sub-plane?”
Aiden lifted his head. “An intuition.”
His intuition was born of the contract, of the impossible temporal schism it revealed. But he would not speak of the summoning mark to them. Not yet.
Wait. The contract. A spark of insight flared in his mind. He was not a native creature of this dinsion. Its laws, its very will, held no power over him. It was possible… he could use the contract as an anchor, a gateway to escape this dood world.
But what of his sisters? His gaze flickered to Azure beside him. She was staring straight ahead, lost in her own grim contemplations, oblivious to his scrutiny. The mortal who had summoned him possessed precious little mana. The portal she could conjure would likely struggle to transport him alone.
Would I leave them behind?
The question hung in his mind, cold and heavy.
“Hey! Where are you two flying off to?” Bianca's cheerful cry echoed from below.
Aiden snapped out of his thoughts, realizing they had already overshot the river. He banked his wings, turning back in a wide arc. Azure followed silently. On the riverbank, the small white dragon was already crouched low, her neck craned as she peered into the two pools he had dug. They were crystal clear, revealing nothing but sand at the bottom. A few faint tracks marked the muddy bank.
Not a single fish.
With a whisper of displaced air, the red and blue dragons landed beside her. Aiden stared into the empty pools. It was no surprise. After so much ti, any fish he might have caught would have long since been snatched up by another magical beast.
He reached into the stone trough Azure had carried, his claws sinking into the cold mass of viscera. He pulled out a clump and tossed it into the nearest pool.
Plop.
His mind still elsewhere, he reached in again, grabbing another handful and flinging it over his shoulder. This ti, there was no splash.
“Hey!”
There was a wet smack, followed by an indignant shriek. “Aiden, what is the aning of this?”
He turned. Bianca stood with a dripping mass of bloody entrails perched atop her head, her white-slitted pupils glaring daggers at him.
“My apologies,” he said, his tone flat. “Go wash it off.”
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“Hmph!” For a mont, she looked ready to retaliate, but seeing his genuinely distracted state and hearing the prompt apology, she relented. I'll let it slide this ti. With a sharp flick of her head, the viscera sailed through the air and landed in the other pool with a second plop.
Bianca stomped to the river's edge and plunged her entire head into the cool water. A mont later, she was completely subrged, her white wings churning the surface, her body twisting and rolling in the current with pure, unadulterated joy.
Hearing the commotion, Aiden looked up. That fool is truly carefree. He thought, a feeling that wasn't envy, but sothing uncomfortably close. His gaze shifted. Where has Azure gone?
He scanned the area and found her on the right bank, lying motionless, her body parallel to the river, her blue eyes staring, unfocused, at the flowing water. She was delving into the Dragon's Heritage again. I hope she finds sothing useful.
Aiden surveyed their surroundings. Nothing had changed. Aside from their own tracks, there was no sign of life. The gnawing sense of crisis had long since extinguished any desire to hunt.
“We're leaving,” he announced, his voice carrying over the splashing. He unfolded his wings.
With a powerful downstroke, his claws left the earth and he launched into the sky. Bianca's head popped out of the water, her wet scales glittering like mother-of-pearl in the sun. Her bright eyes watched the red figure already growing distant.
“Huh? Why are we going back so soon? Weren't we going to hunt?” she asked, confused.
Azure pushed herself up on her forelimbs, casting a single glance at the silly, soaking dragon. She spread her own wings. “Let's go. We're returning.”
With those clipped words, she too ascended into the sky.
“Huh?” Bianca tilted her white head. What's wrong with her? She seems to be in a terrible mood. Did Aiden hit her? A spark of malicious glee lit her eyes. Lol! That must be it!
Energized by the thought, she launched herself directly from the water, sending a great spray into the air as she rocketed skyward in pursuit of the other two.
Aiden landed on the ledge outside their lair, folding his wings and padding into the darkness. He made his way to the deepest part of the cavern and settled onto the cold stone, closing his eyes.
Scrabble, scrabble.
The soft sound of claws on rock.
Thump.
A body settled down beside him. Aiden didn't open his eyes. He knew it was Azure. Silence reigned.
Scrabble, scrabble.
Another set of footsteps.
Thump.
A body flopped down on his left side.
Huuu… purrrr…
A deep, rumbling snore began almost imdiately.
Aiden's nictitating mbrane and eyelid opened simultaneously. He lifted his head. The snores were, unsurprisingly, coming from Bianca. That blissfully ignorant soul.
He turned his head to the right. Azure's head was resting on the ground, her eyes shut tight. But her breathing was too controlled, too shallow. She wasn't asleep. Still searching the Heritage.
Ti passed in silence, asured only by the slow march of shadows as the sun sank toward the horizon.
Just as dusk settled, Aiden's eyes snapped open. He looked at his right foreclaw. The connection, dormant for so long, was alive once more. The summoning mark began to thrum.
In the air around it, motes of red mana coalesced into fine threads, weaving themselves into the glowing glyph. The mark pulsed with a soft, crimson light.
On a soft bed worlds away, a small, slumbering figure stirred. The back of her right hand, resting on the pillow, began to glow with a gentle crimson light.
Hot… so hot…
Mmm…
Isolde's lips parted with a soft sigh. Her long eyelashes trembled, and her eyelids fluttered open. She pushed herself up, rubbing her sleepy eyes with her left hand while lifting her right before her face.
She stared at the glowing mark. Does it need mana again?
Without hesitation, she focused her will. Threads of orange mana condensed in the air around her, drawn by her intent, and began to flow toward the mark, feeding it.
Aiden watched as threads of orange mana—so faint, so fragile—erged from the mark. He realized at once. The mortal has misunderstood.
He gently flexed his will. His own, far more potent red mana wrapped around the delicate orange threads, not consuming them, but carefully pushing them back through the link. He was not asking for tribute this ti.
Isolde watched, confused, as her orange mana was gently but firmly rejected, pushed back out of the summoning mark on her hand. It doesn't want mana? Then… it wants to talk to ?
Her small face, at first crestfallen, broke into a radiant smile. She reached out with her left hand and, with a sense of montous gravity, took hold of the shimring red threads of mana that now lingered in the air before her.
The mont she made contact, a strange sensation flooded her body. An energy, alien and powerful, poured into her. It was hot. Searing. Her skin flushed crimson as her entire body felt as if it were being gently scorched from the inside out.
But still, Isolde did not let go. This was the first ti it had ever initiated contact.
Hold on, Isolde! You can do it! she chanted to herself, a desperate mantra in her mind.
Her small hand, wrapped around the threads of draconic power, tightened its grip.
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