novelraw Chapter 59
Chapter 59
“H-Hello?” The voice that answered was youthful and trembled with pain, as if its owner were enduring a great strain.
A girl's voice. A young one. A child, then. Flames swirled within Aiden's crimson pupils. It was just as he'd expected.
“Greetings, Contractor,” he replied, his own voice an ancient rumble transmitted through the link.
A voice! A young one, but deep and powerful. It answered! It actually answered! A smile bloomed on Isolde's small face, even as beads of sweat dotted her forehead.
Aiden focused his senses on the glowing red mark on his claw. He had to be certain.
“Contractor,” he sent, “is it daylight where you are, or the night?”
“Daylight,” came the immediate reply, followed by a hesitant curiosity. “Why do you ask that?”
Daylight. Aiden lifted his head, his gaze fixed on the sliver of pale sky visible from the cave's entrance. That confirmed it. The place he was in, this desolate wasteland, was a sub-plane.
Damnation! His dragon teeth clenched with such force the enamel groaned audibly. A flicker of ruby fire ignited above his brow, beginning to coalesce into the ethereal spikes of a fiery crown—a manifestation of his true power and rage.
But with a surge of will, he forced it down. He exhaled sharply, and two plumes of superheated air blasted from his nostrils. The nascent crown sputtered, flickered, and dissolved into nothing.
I have to be calm. Rational. There were other matters to consider now.
Aiden turned his gaze to the sleeping white dragon nestled against him. Her white scales were pressed against his own red ones. A small pool of drool had formed beneath her jaw, and her large, scarlet tongue lolled from the side of her mouth. Her sleeping habits were as terrible as ever.
He glanced to his other side. Azure's blue head rested on the stone floor, her breathing silent. Still delving into the Heritage? She spoke little, but the memories of her were just as vivid.
Two foolish sisters.
His draconic heart, which should by all rights be cold and indifferent, resisted the logical conclusion. Did he not want to abandon them? For a Red Dragon, a member of the Chromatic kind, whose nature was supposed to be steeped in apathy and cruelty, he was a spectacular failure.
Isolde stared at the mark on the back of her hand. A long time had passed in silence. If not for the searing heat still pulsing through her arm, she would have thought the connection was broken. Her eyes were fixed on the shimmering red threads of mana. Should I ask? Will it be angry if I speak out of turn?
After a full minute of silent debate, she gathered her courage and whispered, “Excuse me… are you still there?”
The small, timid voice broke Aiden from his reverie. He looked back at his claw. The red threads still pulsed with energy. This was a risk, but it was the only way.
“What is your name?” Aiden asked.
“Isolde!” the girl replied instantly.
The name meant nothing to him. She was, after all, just a mortal. “Greetings, Isolde. I require your aid.”
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“Please, tell me what to do! I will do everything in my power to help!” The reply was just as swift, colored with an eager desperation.
“What is the upper limit of your mana?”
“Five hundred and fifty.”
Only 550? Not nearly enough.
To summon himself alone would require a stable portal sustained by at least a thousand units of mana. To bring Bianca and Azure, whose bodies were nearly as large as his own, would require three thousand at a minimum. He stared back at the glowing threads.“I need you to summon me to your location.”
“I'll begin at once!” She seemed almost frantic with eagerness.
“Wait,” Aiden commanded. “My form is… substantial. The summoning portal will require no less than three thousand units of mana to remain stable.”
“Ah! B-but my mana is only 550!” Her voice was suddenly panicked, like a child who had broken a precious vase and was terrified of the punishment to come.
The flames in Aiden's pupils seemed to cool and dim.
“I can hold on for a time,” he said. “But you must strive, Isolde. You must hurry.”
As he spoke, he focused his will. The red mana of the connection coiled around the orange threads of her own essence that still lingered within the mark. He gave a sharp, forceful pull. He drew her energy into the mark, stopping precisely when he had siphoned five hundred units, leaving her with almost nothing.
Then, he severed the connection.
The red threads, their source cut off, slowly faded into nothingness. The glowing mark on his claw dimmed and went dormant.
The rest was up to the mortal. She would have to fill in the blanks herself. She will strive, he thought with certainty. A mortal would never want to lose a partner of his power. He felt no remorse. The partner contract held no true binding power over him. Besides, the entire lifespan of her kind is but a century or so. A fleeting moment against the vast expanse of my own existence. She is merely a passerby.
Aiden rested his great head back on the stone floor. He had to accumulate power, to add to his strength, to prepare for the uncertain hour when the life sacrifice would be unleashed upon this world. With his plan laid, the heavy, scaled eyelids and the pink nictitating membrane slid shut.
Huuu… purrrr…
A second deep, rumbling snore joined the first, echoing in the darkness of the lair.
*****
Knock, knock.
“Isolde? It's getting late, why aren't you up yet?” Thea's voice came from outside the door.
On the soft bed, Isolde's small form was curled up under the covers. Her lips were deathly pale, but her cheeks were flushed a feverish red. She was utterly exhausted, but her mind was racing with excitement.
Hearing the knock, she turned her head with great effort. “Thea… you can come in. It's not locked.”
Click.
The handle turned and Thea, dressed in a light, white silken gown, pushed the door open. Her eyes immediately fell upon the weak figure sprawled on the bed. What's wrong with her? It can't be her monthly cycle… and even if it were, why is her face so red?
Thea quickened her pace and sat on the edge of the bed, her brow furrowed with genuine worry. “Isolde, what happened?”
Seeing the concern on her friend's face, Isolde tried to manage a reassuring smile, but it came out as a weak, trembling grimace. “It… it contacted me,” she whispered. “For the first time.”
“You spoke?”
“Yes…”
Isolde recounted their entire conversation without leaving out a single word. She trusted Thea implicitly.
“…Thea, you're so clever,” she finished, her voice barely audible. “Do you think… do you think it's in some kind of danger? Will something happen to it?”
Thea gently helped Isolde out of her day clothes and tucked her properly into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Only then did she speak. “If it asked you for help, then yes. It must be.”
She paused, her expression becoming serious. “Isolde, from now on, you must stop your sword practice.”
“Huh?” Isolde's face fell. She loved practicing with her sword far more than the tedious stillness of meditation. The feeling of the blade in her hand was a joy.
“Don't be willful,” Thea said softly, but with an edge of steel. She reached out with a pale hand and gently pinched Isolde's now-plump cheek. “I will prepare the necessary potions for you. You must focus all your efforts on meditation. I want you to raise your mana to three thousand within two years.”
Isolde's bright eyes widened. “But… the money for the potions? How can I possibly afford them?”
A knowing smile bloomed on Thea's exquisite face, and she gave Isolde's cheek an affectionate squeeze.
“The same way as always,” she said cheerfully. “We'll put it on your tab.”
Isolde began to squirm, trying to wiggle her face free from her friend's playful grasp. This feeling is not good. Not good at all.
The ever-growing balance of her debt was about to skyrocket once more. And for potions, no less. Ms. Solana had always said that alchemical potions were ruinously expensive.