As we roar, however, a towering shockwave rings around the cliffs of the tight cove. Building stronger each time, it chimes like a symphony of bells now to our dragon-voices, as they pummel those cliffs as one.
Made of a similar rock as the Sanctum of Mystery at the Hollows of the Damned, those cliffs ring with a vast sound now as we turn, amazed by it. As if on cue, a tremendous rockslide goes cascading down from the deepest part of the cliff; we cast a Bloodshield up, boiling with our Bloodbond’s auric fire, and Lærke’s, to turn those rocks away.
We needn’t have, however. The rockslide parts naturally, surging down the cliffs to either side of us and leaving our promontory unscathed as it pours into the frothing ocean.
Though it reveals a massive cave at the rear of the cove—that wasn’t there before.
“Well, that’s not a spot I know.” Ström blinks now as we dissolve ourBloodshield and move towards the cliffs, shocked by what just happened. We see now that the cave’s opening is not just bare stone, but an ornately carved archway, chiseled deep out of the cliff’s bedrock.
Its open vault tunnels deep into the cliffs. The runes upon the arch are ancient, as intense sigildry cascades all over them in the light of our auric fire, still blistering upon the midnight winds as it dissipates.
Just like at the hidden city up in Magnussen lands, these runes are made of the same silver-gold-white metal, which blazes to life now from the touch of our fire. Some unseen barrier over the arch flashes out, as a vague auric fire covering the opening ripples away with a shimmer of rainbows.
“It was protected,” Bjorn says now as we move forward, inspecting those towering runes upon the massive arch. As he maintains an orb of our auric flames spinning above his open hand, we see carved, snarling dragons wind all through the runic phrases on the arch, from the bottoms of both pillars to the keystone right at the very top.
“And hidden for gods know how long, even from my people.” Ström frowns now, as I feel him bristle, as if this place might be dangerous. “This location is only a mile from the Old Palace, and despite its proximity… I don’t think any of my kin even knew it was here. At least, not that anyone’s told me.”
As the barrier dissipates over the cavern’s entrance now, I feel an enormous wave of power pour from that opening. Siphoning down to curl off the ocean into the midnight mists, that immense power makes the runes over the entire archway flare and simmer in the deep midnight, alive with a mysterious light.
But the opening is black; I feel something immense hidden here now, for countless millennia, as if waiting for the right dragons to open it. Sealed away for gods know how many eons, it’s not a mystery to take lightly, as my drakes, Lærke, and I approach in a tight knot.
With our auric Bloodwinds raised high, we light up the space around us bright as day with our fire, alert for danger. We get nothing aswe approach, only a sensation of endlessness like the Ancestors themselves, whispering through my mind.
Before we know it, we’re inside. Additional runes light up all around us now, though none were visible before.
I see now that the runes inlaid inside the cavern aren’t made of the same white-gold metal as those outside upon the arch, however. They’re made of a flat, black metal that is unknown to me, as they simmer to life now, all around us.
It gives the inside of the sea-cave a feeling of being lost inside the ancient stars, as I recognize the small clusters of runes here have been set to imitate the constellations, rather than create regular Blood Dragon knotwork or runic phrases.
I can’t read any of the infinitesimal runes in those constellations, however, as we walk down the sea-tunnel now, burrowing deep into the cliff. Baldur squints at the clusters as we walk; I feel him understand a phrase here and there, as he somewhat did while we were at the hidden city up in Magnussen lands.
We walk maybe a quarter mile before the space opens up. A massive underground chamber lifts all around us now, the black heights of the ceiling lost as we push our power harder, illuminating the cavern.
Clusters of ancient runic phrases light up around us and far above, mimicking the stars of the cosmos. The place we’ve come into does not mimic the regular night sky, however, not like the outer hallway.
Instead, the gargantuan constellations here are dense and well-formed, creating massive pillars of stars that tower up all around us, like Stonehenge. As my drakes and I catch our breath, I recognize this cavern depicts the exact same power spot we came to in the Void just a half-hour ago. Except this is like a map, as I realize our ancient Ancestors knew about that place in the stars.
And created this space to access it.
“They used that place in the stars,” I muse now as my voice echoes all through the gargantuan chamber, ringing around the space. As I speak, Inote the stone here is the same singing-stone as the cliffs, and at Harnakje.
“Probably used it for powerful rituals, even if they didn’t create it.” Baldur steps to my side, marveling at it as he looks up at the vast cavern with me. “They made this place to echo that one, though—probably so they could get to that space in the Void whenever they did their Bloodwalkings. Most of the sigildry I’ve seen down here that I can make out are spells and incantations to focus one’s power like a laser, and achieve the outcome one seeks.”
“So they could get to that place in the Void and use it for whatever potent spells they were creating.” Mikkel is thoughtful now as he comes to us, though a deep frown is on his face, rather than Baldur’s rapt wonder. “This is an intense natural power spot, Rikyava, only enhanced by what the ancients created here with their sigils. Everything about it gives me strange, massive juju… if we wanted to work our ceremonies with the Soulstone, I’d wager this is the place to get it done.”
“If our ancient Ancestors used those star-stones in the Void, then we can, too.” Lærke shares a glance with her brother. “It’s going to be dangerous—Mikkel and I can feel it is so—but the risk of great danger also comes with a reward of unfathomable power.”
“I don’t like it,” Bjorn grumps, stepping to us now that he’s finished surveying the entire periphery of the vast hall, making sure there’s no way in or out except the way we came in by. “If we need a power spot for our Soulstone rituals, I’m sure Jarl Jorg can recommend a decent one nearby.”
“This place iswaystronger than any of the other power spots we know of in Eriksson territory—even Harnakje.” Ström protests now, as he glances at Bjorn. “I can feel it, rushing all through me and making my Bone Magic roar. Mikkel and Lærke are right: this place has strange juju. Because this cavern was made to focus Bone Magic, Bjorn—the darkest, strongest power of our people. And thrust us up in a tidal wave. To get shit done, way out in the stars.”
“But this place focuses more than just Bone Magic,” Baldur interjects,as he eyeballs Ström. “Bjorn doesn’t like it because he can feel how it’s also making both his and my Blood Magic roar, seething in a firestorm through our veins to do something massive—almost catastrophic—with our power.”
As I listen, I feel what my drakes and Lærke are describing. A sensation of power so vast, any way we might describe it falls short, as a cosmic tremor thunders through my Bloodwalker power.
Asking to be used.
“I want to work miracles here. Or destruction.” Baldur shivers, as if feeling what went through me just now. It’s then that I recall his addiction to high-level magic is not gone, not by a long shot.
