The black ocean surrounding me breathes calmer than nights passed. The last thing I remember before falling into this echo is cutting my hand over Izfael’s Seal… which means my time in here is limited if I want to survive the day.

  My thoughts are on fire. Did I crack the Seal just by willing it so? Mythos suggests I may have. But now that I’m here—in the realm of red sky where the warring dark reigns—I wonder if this is the opportunity I’ve been hoping for. I need to find Boeru now, and show him that we can dive back into the afterlife and find his real sister… not this warring dark manifestation that lies to him.

  My eyes dart every which way in search for him, hoping to hear his gigantic wing beating somewhere in the distance as he races to find Sefene. But I don’t. The realm is oddly barren.

  “Boe!” I bellow at the top of my lungs, worried I’ll provoke the dark. Even though a part of me hopes to see Kane here again, I have to remind myself it’s probably just a figment of my own making. “You chase a lie! Come back to me and we will find your sister together!”

  No response.

  No rumbling snarl.

  Nothing. Just the vibrations of the dark ocean clawing at my feet.

  Remember what you read in Izfael’s cove. Intent matters, I tell myself. I’m not waiting for anything to happen. I’m going to do it myself.

  A slit in the ocean floor makes my heart skip a beat. The glow isn’t black or red, but rather white and blue.

  A tear in fabric.

  “What is this?” I fall to my knees, tempted to reach. Is this another ruse by the dark? “Are you tempting me?” Blinking hard doesn’t bring me back to reality. I’m still stuck here. The Shade’s Milk is ruining me.

  Holding my head to stop it from spinning, I focus hard on the tear. It recreates the shape of the cracks in the Seal back in Izfael’s chamber. Maybe it is the Seal.

  Could it be?

  A screech, followed by intense winds, throws me onto my backside. I’m left gaping at high rising shreds of light clawing out of the dark ocean. And when I peek again, I see it—the same war I did when Boeru took me. It feels like years have passed since that day.

  “Sefene!” I call. “Tell me you heard my intent. Your brother Boeru needs you. He’s been tricked by the dark.”

  No spirits call back like last time. I remember Boeru flying up and clawing his way out of the tear to bond with me—accepting my weak frame and deathly Arkitus. I’m strong now thanks to him. Strong enough to pay him back.

  My stomach drops looking down to the endless sky. It’s like looking into a portal to the sub-tier. No. Worse. An upside-down world I’m not meant to see. Spears fly. Riders shout, and the tear is always moving like it’s being tugged by a thousand dragons. Half-burnt castles whizz by. What are they even built upon? Loose stones tumble into the air.

  If I jump randomly, I’ll be lost in the afterlife, in a mad search for a dragon Boeru himself couldn’t find.

  “Sefene!” I hope my voice transcending realms is enough to echo loud and far.

  Wind wraps my hair as I stick my face into the tear. It smells of metallic and ash. A sultry rot stings my nostrils, begging the living to turn away from death. But my dragon is suffering. He thinks his sister is talking to him, telling him that his choice to bond was a baiting failure. The Danes bested him.

  It's not true.

  I vowed to find the secrets of Elden magic as we navigate this insane world.

  “Sefene!” My voice is robbed by the rushing winds.

  As the motion slows to a near stop, hope fills my lungs. I clench the edges as a silver spire with horizontal lightning orbiting it.

  “Sefene,” I say, convinced of my purpose. My tempered blood guides me.

  A massive claw reaches out of nowhere and yanks me out of the echo, down into the afterlife.

  I flail in open air, feeling the same as when I was whipped off my gryphon, only this time I refuse to let chaos control me. Reorienting myself is easy. I won’t fall through an endless sky, because a bridge is right under me.

  Flipping to be feet first, I crash onto the stone bridge leading to the electrical spire. The world is apocalyptic in endless war. The distant sky shows beasts clashing. Black clouds form to give rushing armies on horseback a ground to charge. Carnage is everywhere. But most of all, in front of me…

  Boom!

  A dragon slams down on the other edge of the bridge, horizontal lightning streaking past him. I’ve seen him before, in the prime bubble while visiting Boeru’s past. The one who slashed and zapped him as he walked the bridge to his mother—Dovesier.

  Stone-like wings glisten over white prismatic scales, and the angriest snarl I’ve ever seen—angrier than Boeru’s—minces into a sadistic smile.

  “Right roost. Wrong dragon, mortal.” Dovesier’s smile widens to reveal the depth of his sharp teeth.

  “I’ve come for Sefene, not you.” I stand tall, with no fear. Maybe it’s from sleep deprivation, or a lack of patience, but this one is not going to stop me today.

  Dovesier laughs like I’m an insect trespassing on his turf.

  “What’s funny?”

  “So much, little mortal.”

  “I don’t have time to be toyed with. I’m not dragon food. Just point me in her direction and I’ll be off your grounds.”

  “You’ve crossed into the afterlife. Perhaps you’re already dead.”

  The words send a pang of fear coursing through my body. Is it possible Izfael already returned from his challenge and slit my throat? Or maybe one of his lackeys.

  No. I’d know.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Sefene—”

  “Hasn’t been seen in centuries. She either hides from the endless wars in the afterlife, or is somehow still alive,” Dovesier cackles at his own words. He then becomes serious, taking one monstrous step forward.

  His enormity is breathtaking—nothing like the dragons I’ve seen in tier one. He rivals Boeru in presence. Still, I refuse to back down.

  “You’re riddled with his scent.” Dovesier sniffs, smoke leaking from his nostrils. “My brother was always fond of the weak.”

  “So I’ve been guided to the giant who was bested by the runt of his litter.” I smile angrily and turn away, unsure how I’m going to get out of this. “What a waste.”

  Boom!

  Another claw clamps down on the bridge, threatening its foundation.

  “You dare turn your back on me?”

  “As Queen Louz would, if she saw you now,” I state boldly, calling the name of the roost mother Boeru once consulted.

  The dragon roars deafeningly loud, sending sparking winds my way. But that’s not all. Through the tear, the ocean of warring dark seeps down like a smear of blood in the sky, reaching for me. I feel Kane’s essence… then Renesta’s. I feel the dark calling of my baptism.

  “You’ve overstepped,” Dovesier’s voice thunders. “Now I grant you a fall for eternity.” He raises his mighty talon with sadistic joy, blotting me out with his shadow.

  “I think not.” I clench my fist, sending chains of warring dark strangling around the dragon’s throat. More erupt from my closed fist, wrapping his arms, his wings. “You berated Boeru for existing. I’ve seen it time and time again. Tried to fling him from your precious bridge, tried to kill him because of his affliction. You are his enemy, not his brother.”

  Twisting my fist tightens the dark chains. Dovesier resists, thrashing backward, but I yank them down, forcing the mighty dragon to all fours.

  “What are you?” The dragon seethes, biting at the chains, commanding lightning to strike them.

  “I’m the dragonborn. Boeru is my bond.”

  “A mortal trespassing into the afterlife,” Dovesier coughs. “Dragging elements of the living. You will suffer eternally for your crimes!”

  “Maybe. But not today.” I whip the chains farther back, causing a crushing boom when Dovesier falls maw-first onto the stone. “Sefene. Point me to her, or someone who knows.”

  “My armies will march to rip you limb from limb and fry what’s left of your feeble body. You will seize and cry and feel all, where every moment will feel like a full life,” Dovesier threatens, his stone wings expanding and contracting to break from the growing dark chains.

  A power like never before courses through me. I’m in complete control. Ever since the baptism… it’s like I’m part of the dark ocean, and it’s lending me its strength.

  Then my thoughts go blank.

  A pang wrenches my gut, followed by a hard scratch at my face. The strikes are sudden. Something’s wrong. There’s a faint voice screaming in my ear. It’s coming from far away.

  “Izfael.” I look up to the tear in space leading back to the red sky. I’m two realms away, in some faraway nightmare. How much time has passed up there?

  Have I been found out?

  Pcch!

  A punch knocks me hard to one side, nearly knocking me off the bridge. I catch myself on the ledge, causing Dovesier to lift his maw.

  The low cackles come again. “The mortal is not where he belongs. Wheels of fate have their ways of churning always in the right direction. I will see you again… and when I do—”

  I yank my dark chains to shut the dragon up, then scrutinize him in a whole new light. I’ve never read anywhere of a dual bond, or exchanging one bond for another, but if I transport back from this insane echo on my own and Izfael has returned, I’m dead. And by the looks of it, eternity won’t be kind to me.

  Crcht!

  I’m knocked again in the other direction, my bones twisting against my will. I squeeze my eyes tight, feeling a stream of hot blood rolling down the side of my face.

  I have no choice.

  “Dovesier, brother of Boeru and Sefene. You’re coming with me!” I yank the dragon with uncanny force to be upright and press my hand over his claw, feeling the same merging power that Boeru once bestowed. “We will hate each other, but perhaps we’ll both get what we want.”

  Dovesier tries to thrash away. “I do not fall for the Danes’ tricks. I am legend of the lightning spire!”

  “Don’t you want to reunite with your roost?” I clench my jaw, ignoring the blinding pain as best I can, fighting the resistance of the dragon’s soul. “You’re here alone, aren’t you? Risorgus and Kelfore fight some long war beyond your reach.” I take a leap. “Don’t you want Elden magic to control the afterlife?”

  Dovesier’s maw swings sharply to the side, green eye locked with mine. “Is that what my brother is after?” The resistance eases. “He expects to be legend in the living world and the dead.” A grumpy snarl sends sparking smoke from his nose. “Over my rotting soul!”

  With a powerful shove, the merger takes hold, and my vision falls to white.

  The next time I wake, my body convulses. Air. There’s no air.

  Immense pressure comes down on my neck. Scratchy robes cut at my skin. I’m being strangled.

  “Stop,” my plea is voiceless.

  Desperate screams plague my muffled hearing. Tesstalia. She’s the first thing I see through shaky vision—being held back by the earless bliss user Vigil.

  No.

  Who has me?

  When a rising gaudy golden dagger sparkles in my vision, I know it’s him. Izfael.

  “A glutton for punishment,” Izfael speaks in my ear, his suffocating fire high magic slowly creeping into my nose as if his hands around my neck isn’t enough. What’s worse… I’m bleeding.

  He already stabbed me.

  Blood trickles onto the cracked Seal, but it’s no longer glowing.

  “How’d you do it, Winbridge? I’ve been trying to reach the afterlife for years.” Izfael jerks my neck harder when I resist. “Best speak quickly, before you run out of blood.”

  I shake my head.

  “I know you’re the key,” Izfael seethes through gritted teeth. “Brighten the Seal again, and your suffering stops.”

  I struggle to break free.

  “Izfael! Don’t! You’ll kill him!” Tesstalia claws.

  “Which is what I hired you for. Was my promise of merits not enough, you greedy whore?” He points his dagger her way. “A true shame servants never reach their potential. And you.” The grip around my neck loosens for a second, evoking a desperate gasp for air before he tightens it again. “I forfeited a grand challenge for this. Had those riders not ran straight to me, I may have missed this glorious opportunity.” He rips at my hair so our eyes lock, his breath hot like fire. “Tell me, Winbridge. Why would two of my servants be walking out of Elshard just as I proclaim a challenge of the highest regard? That’s right, one of them diligently tailed you, watching you don my servant’s robes. What’s the matter? Can’t speak?”

  The warring dark pulses like never before, but my body is ailing, struggling to go on with such a severe amount of blood loss.

  “It should’ve been me chosen for the war-tier, Winbridge, not your fucking brother. The Danes revere only the awakened. They don’t see the power that can come from mixing high magic with warring dark. They ignore it. Well… they won’t hold their monopoly much longer.” He squeezes tighter, to the point my vision fades. “I have everything I need now. The last ingredient.” He raises his arm, lining the point of his dagger to my heart. “Return to your fucking spirits.”

  As the blade plunges, something takes over.

  Pain and anger of being lied to all my life. Injustice.

  Having to claw for every little gods-damn morsel of strength. My brother taken from me, only to be poisoned with an evil bond. He needs me.

  I won’t die here.

  “I won’t.”

  A dragon with enormous scales and sadistic power grows as a silhouette fighting to be colored in, and as the manifestation rises, I syphon all of Dovesier’s power as my own, shrinking him, imploding him into my stomach…

  Then I roar.

  Chaotic warring dark lightning jolts out of my body, showing Izfael that he’s right. The mix is deadly. Cursed bright spears coated in black fork every which direction. I feel its temper. My body is a conduit of energy. It sizzles and opens my lungs to let air replenish me. In this moment, I’m the elements, I’m hell, and everything infinite.

  Krrcht!

  Glass shatters from a lightning strike to the warded skylight. Another snaps out of me, cracking Vigil away from Tesstalia and pinning him to the wall twenty feet across the way. I hear the rupture of his spine. Another zags to Tyros leaping to murder me. And when I sense Izfael recovering his dagger and lunging to stab at my back, the last bolt strikes with purpose, splitting his skull and leaving him wilted at my heel.

  I fall to my knees, still catching my breath. Tesstalia is opposite me with her jaw hanging open. Another servant holding the door pisses his pants. And the glass falling between us is the icing on the cake.

  The bodies I’ve struck don’t move. Only their ashes sizzle.

  “What—what have I done?”