Brindle Dragon Omnibus 3

by Jada Fisher

  “NO!”

  But the cry didn’t matter to her. Nothing did. The moment she pulled those masses into her, it was as if the rest of the world was ripped away and she was flung into the cosmos. Pleasure, undiluted and raw, rushed through every part of her being, forcing anything else out. It bubbled up inside of her, pressure too great for her to contain, and she felt her body burst across the stars.

  She was moving, too fast to be alive, too fast to comprehend, as everything that made her human was rewritten and bathed in power it was never meant to know. Her vision dropped out, replaced with something else entirely as she flew against lands and stars and life and death itself.

  She couldn’t say how long she spun, tumbling through the ether like a breath or an idea, but bit by bit, that giddy pleasure began to settle, leaving the incredible power for her to drown in.

  Except she wasn’t drowning. She was floating, surrounded by everything that had been and ever would be. She could see her entire realm stretching out in front of her, and behind her, with time running like a curving river through it. In the distance, she could see other faintly glowing places. Places she knew that didn’t belong to her. Places that held things that she couldn’t imagine.

  Slowly, she looked over her land. She felt a strange sort of responsibility for the expanse, like it was her responsibility, but she could see so many dangerous cracks throughout it.

  Now that wouldn’t do at all.

  She lowered herself to her realm, where everything was held perfectly still around her. Funny, the things that had once mattered so much to her—Dille, the academy, a good meal, Athar. None of them seemed very relevant now. They could just disappear in a puff of smoke and Eist wouldn’t be fazed. She was beyond them now, beyond all—

  A chirp sounded from behind her and she turned, yet didn’t move at all. There was Fior, looking at her with eyes that shone like the sun. Had they always been that way, or could she only see them now?

  It didn’t matter, she supposed, because he wasn’t alone. There was a woman standing behind him, with long, long dark hair and a small smile. But perhaps what was most familiar was her utter lack of eyes, replaced only with blue glowing light.

  “Hello, my daughter. It’s good to see you again.”

  “Your…daughter?” Eist murmured questioningly, but then just as if she had been there, she saw it in her mind’s eye.

  Arwyllen, dirty and battered, unable to defeat the Blight fully—only to beat it back for a century or two, offering her soul and power, her blood itself to the old spirits to return them to their former glory. Much like the All-Mother, she gave herself up, only withholding a small bit of her soul that she sent out much like the Blight had.

  Eist watched the memory that wasn’t hers replay as a piece ended up in her mother, and then her father. She watched as she was born, and the magic glowed brightly from her core. She watched as she died on that fever-bed when she was a child, but the magic forcibly dragged her back to life.

  She watched it all, and suddenly, she understood exactly how much she had truly been destined for.

  “You’ve been waiting an awfully long time for all of this to work out,” Eist answered, her mind encompassing so much that it was hard to keep a hold of who she was and what she wanted.

  “But it will all be worth it if it works, would it not?” The woman pressed a kiss to Fior’s side then beckoned him to go to Eist. He did so happily, and Eist felt more of herself come back as she touched his smooth, scaled side. “Do you know what you have to do?”

  Eist nodded, the woman’s plan blooming in her eyes as if it were her own. And who knew? Perhaps it was. She was the beginning and the end of all things, time stretching below her in waves and eddies.

  “Come on, Fior,” she said, clambering on top of her dragon. “Let’s finally put an end to this story.”

  He let out a bellow unlike any that she had ever heard, then dove deep into the water. Eist let herself rush through it, time flowing over and around her.

  They burst out in what seemed like less than the blink of an eye, in a battle not too different from her own, but Eist could tell from their equipment and clothing exactly where she was.

  Her gaze scanned everything all at once, and she saw exactly what she expected. A circle of brindles led by none other than Arwyllen herself. She spotted the witches she was looking for and reaching for them with arms that were suddenly bigger than entire buildings, she snatched them and their dragons right from time itself.

  She held them in her palms, willing all the directions she knew they needed into them, then flung them back into the water of time. She watched as they were taken away, sure that they would end up exactly where she needed to meet them later.

  And then she was back in the water herself, appearing before her mother. She watched as her parents kissed her good-bye and promised they would be back after a couple of days of research at the academy. She saw their entire day stretch ahead of them all at once, until she was visiting her mother in her dreams.

  The woman looked so fragile, so exhausted and frayed at the edges. How had Eist never seen that during her childhood?

  She didn’t know, and she couldn’t say, so instead she gave herself the All-Mother’s form as she whispered ideas and rituals that would eventually lead to her parents’ deaths. She was the end. She was the beginning. She would create her own path, and follow the path laid out for her all at once.

  Her mother nodded, taking the All-Mother’s words to heart, and Eist let herself slip into time again.

  This time, she traveled for centuries, and yet no time at all, passing civilizations and battles and the rise and fall of politicians. She wasn’t sure what direction she was going, forward or backward, because those concepts didn’t exist. It was all just an ocean, surrounding her with tides and waves, rising, falling, and splashing this way and that.

  But Fior flew through it like it was the sky itself, and she happened across a tiny witch, one that was still connected to the old spirits, one who held the mark of Arwyllen deep in her heart. And as that baby drew her first breath, Eist split her soul in two, carrying it back down into the water with her.

  This time, as they traveled, she told the little spirit all of the great things that she would do. That she was going to be the best friend someone could ask for, and too clever for her own good. That she was kind, and quick, and braver than anybody else she knew.

  When she reached the right time, she summoned a body out of clay and dragon ash, forming a vessel for the half-soul she held in her arms. It was easy enough to deposit her and bring the creation to life. Giving herself a human form for only a moment, Eist cupped the tiny thing’s cheeks.

  “Your name is Dille,” she murmured, stroking hair back from her face. “And your life will be very, very hard, but just know that you are meant to be one of the greatest dragon riders ever known.”

  With that, she pressed a kiss to the young avatar’s forehead, then let Fior whisk them into the flow of time again.

  Back and forth she went, weaving like a tapestry, until the entire image was perfect and shining in the water. She was the creator, the mastermind who made sure that every step she tread was exactly what she was supposed to.

  Only two things left to do.

  Reaching out, she found herself and the moment she was looking for. Directing Fior forward, she slipped into a very familiar dream, bidding her dragon to stay in the shadows.

  She took on the form of the All-Mother once more, or at least the form that she remembered being in. And in a strange instance of time repeating itself, but not exactly as it should, Eist spoke to her past self about the Blight and everything she must remember.

  “Rise, my child.”

  Had those lines always been on her face? Had she always looked so haunted? So hunted? Eist felt a surge of pity roll through her for her old self. She had no idea what was going to become of her? The power that would flow through her veins. “Why are you—”

  “W
e do not have much time.”

  “You know, people like you always say that in these, but I don’t think time correlates one to one in…wherever we are.”

  Ah, there it was. Eist remembered being impatient. But she didn’t understand yet. She couldn’t. She didn’t know that while they had all the time in the world, there was also none of it. They had a mission to complete.

  “You talk too much and listen too little. There is not much time because time is ephemeral, slipping through our fingers with every moment.”

  “Our fingers? I’m pretty sure I’m not holding anything… Is what Yacrist said true?”

  There it was. She remembered wishing the great and powerful All-Mother would tell her that it was false. That their enemy had been lying. But this was the time where all of those little lies would be stripped away.

  But perhaps more gently than the Blight would have.

  “Yes, his words are mostly true.”

  “Mostly true?”

  “There are things that even one such as the great darkness doesn’t know. Part of the picture it cannot see. Although it likes to posture as if it is outside of time, or as if it knows all, it experiences the passing of days the same as any of your kind. It is just very, very old.”

  “Oh. I suppose that’s good to know then. Not omniscient. But he’s right about you coming from another dimension and upsetting the balance here?”

  “He is right about the Truth of the Three. They fled from a world he devoured, one that they were tied to the life of. And when they came here, they thought they might find friendship with the spirits that lived in earth and stream, in sky and tree.

  “But when they planted their seeds of faith, and their teachings, they found they couldn’t grow. Something was lacking, the energy, the worship that they needed to thrive.

  “And that was when they realized that they could not benefit from the worship and gift of love because, in your world, souls returned to the wellspring of life to be made anew, an endless cycle of birth and death and birth again. With such a complete circle, the Three would starve and wither, nothing to sustain them.”

  It was strange to tell the story word for word that had been told to her, but she understood that she had to complete the circle. Everything had to be perfect to lead her exactly to the point where she was now.

  “Why do you keep saying they?” Eist—young, human Eist—asked. “You’re the All-Mother. You’re not just one of them, you’re the figurehead.”

  Ah, right. Eist had been suspicious at her wording, wondering why she hadn’t used ‘I’ or ‘we.’ All of that suddenly made sense now, and Eist continued to move through all of the lines that she had already spoken.

  Time warbled around her, unhappy that she was spending so much time with her own past. It didn’t like warping in on itself in such an incestuous way and wanted her to return to the waters.

  Standing slowly, she finished speaking the words she had to, planting the ideas and the seeds that would one day save her people.

  “I am the All-Mother,” she said, realizing now exactly what those words meant. She had absorbed three deities and in doing so, she had become one. She was the guardian of children, the shepherd to death. She was all the fury of nature and also its warm embrace. She was the end. She was the beginning. And she was going to finish the fight. “I am the Grandfather. I am the Storm. I am all that once might have been, and all that might be. I am all, but I am also none.”

  “...that doesn't actually mean anything.”

  Oh sweet, darling Eist who thought she knew everything there was to know. “To you, it might not. But all in time.” She chuckled ever-so-lightly at that. “Yes. Time. All of it.”

  “I… I don’t understand.”

  Eist reached out, touching her own shoulder and willing all the strength she could into her small body. There was so much fear and hurt to come, but there was a light at the end of it, if only she could see it. “You will. Just remember Yacrist’s words. The answers lie therein.”

  “I don’t understand why you can’t just tell me them if you already know!”

  “Because that is not the way of things. There are details we can change, but details that must always remain the same. The Three have bound themselves so much in this world that the Blight cannot destroy the world as long as they hide beyond their veil. It may own all of the darkness, but it cannot penetrate the light. Not like you can. You are the light, in more ways than you know, and you must never forget that.”

  Sighing, Eist looked up to the sky, knowing her time with herself was at an end, at least this time around. Had she missed anything? She felt if she missed a single syllable, everything might fall apart around her.

  “I think we’ve done it all.”

  “Who have done it all? And what do you mean by all?”

  She didn’t answer, Fior whisking her away into the deep, dark ocean of time itself.

  9

  Leave None, Take None

  Suddenly, Eist was in the middle of a battle. She blinked several times, watching as everything moved in slow motion. She was still atop Fior, and the circle of brindles was still roaring at Yacrist.

  Ah.

  Having a physical form was confusing, considering that her mind encompassed everything around her. She could feel a rider’s fear and worry for his wife. She could feel another one panickily thinking about the unborn child in her stomach. Every bit of pain, every action, every frantic thought, she knew and felt all of them all at once.

  But she couldn’t let herself become distracted from the maelstrom or the desire to slip back into the abstract view that the Three had no doubt been hiding behind for millennia. Instead, she looked to Yacrist, who was arched like he was about to send that fateful blast of power from his core that he had before.

  No. That wouldn’t do.

  She blinked and suddenly was in front of him, snatching his face with her hands. She held his jaw tight, jerking his head toward her, and he stared at her with wide eyes.

  “H-how?”

  “Recognize me?” Eist asked, letting all her power surge around her.

  He did. She could see it flare in his eyes, tinged by fear and shock. “N-no! You can’t! You’re just a human!”

  “No, my very, very old enemy. I’m so much more than that.”

  “But you can’t send me away. As long as the Three remain undevoured by me, I will linger, rebuilding myself.”

  “I know,” Eist said with a condescending pat to the top of his head. “Now, it’s time for you to leave. All of you.”

  She reached out with her mind, encompassing everything that she was and had ever been. She seized up every last drop of the Three, every bit of delicious, burning blue, until there was nothing left. And as the Blight tried to rip itself from her grip, she let the entirety of all that power blast through her.

  “I banish you from life now, Blight, never to return. You will haunt no doors and darken no dreams. I banish you along with every scrap of the old worlds that never belong in mine. This is your death, written in the stars and scattered magic of the cosmos. Revel in that fear inside of you now, because this is the last thing you will ever feel.” She spoke with all the power of every god that had once been in the Three’s world. She could feel them, rushing from the Blight and joining her, gleeful in their revenge.

  “But, Eist, you can’t! We’re in love, aren’t we? You wouldn’t kill me, would you?”

  Eist brought him closer so that their faces were only a breath away. Looking into his eyes, she allowed him to see everything that she had done. His face went gray at that, and the mass of magic behind him burst like a cloud that had been blown away by a buffet of wind.

  “You don’t know what love is,” Eist snapped before finalizing her grip on every bit of them that she could. “So, be it.”

  Thunder clapped above and the entire earth shook. It was like paradise falling all over again, but that much more violent.

  The Blight shrieked in her grip, burni
ng, churning, bucking, but Eist held tight. It wasn’t as if she could unlock her muscles anyway, pure agony tearing its way through her as every single bit of godhood ripped from her.

  For all that she had been drunk on that power, so full of certainty and strength that nothing could ever hurt her, having it ripped away was like death itself. She screamed, and screamed, wishing for death as it felt like everything was scooped out of her, violently ripped away by thousands of claws.

  She couldn’t say how long it lasted. How long light and dark spilled from their bodies, sucked up through the sky and expunged from the world like it never belonged. Because it didn’t. Bit by bit, every single bit of the usurpers and the Blight was ejected from the world, until finally, all of it was gone.

  The pain stopped, leaving Eist floating there, completely numb. And yet a sliver of relief was there, because she had done it.

  The Blight was gone.

  The world was reborn, set to recover in all the magic it was always supposed to have.

  With a single sigh, Eist fell.

  Wind whipped past her, a pleasant lullaby for the end of her journey. But just as her eyes were fluttering shut, she was caught in a clawed foot and gently carried to the ground.

  More of her mind came back as they lowered, pain rolling through every bit of her. When she was finally released, she could only flop weakly to her side.

  A gentle, worried chirp sounded, and Eist opened her eyes to see Fior nosing at her middle.

  “Hey there, not-so-little guy,” she whispered, voice completely raw.

  “Eist?”

  That voice made her gasp, and she found the strength to roll over, finding Yacrist laying there. For a moment, joy swept through her, but then she saw the ashen gray of his skin, the cracks and burns around his mouth and eyes.

  “Eist, is that you?”

  She scrambled to him, taking his hand in hers. His skin was like paper held too long over a fire, cracking and splitting in her grip.

  “Hey there, Yacrist. It’s me. Just me.”