A fast-moving force rushed up from the depths of Tate’s consciousness. For the second time that night, Ilith became ascendant.
ELEVEN
The world flickered. The sound of wings faded as another scene transposed itself over the first.
There was a vibrant clear sky above her, so saturated with color it nearly burned Ilith’s eyes. Mountains rose in the distance, more jagged and desolate than the snowcapped peaks visible in the Rift. A flat plain full of plants Ilith never thought she’d see again spread until they met the feet of those distant mountains and turned into gentle rolling hills.
Time felt like it slowed then stopped, Ilith standing frozen in place. Terrified a single twitch would shred the moment.
Ilith?
Ilith didn’t answer, caught up in the image of a place so familiar it felt strange. Her mind telling her this wasn’t possible even as every sense assured her it was. That she was standing in a world she’d long given up ever visiting again. A place she’d allowed herself to forget.
Only she never had. She saw now she’d simply buried her yearning deep, telling herself those wishes would only bring her pain.
Even the smell remained the same. The thing Tate’s people called magic mixing with the scent of storm laden skies, craggy mountains and wide-open plains. For Ilith’s kind, that so called magic went by a different name. They’d referred to it simply as life. The essence that ran through all things animate and inanimate. More plentiful than water; as necessary as air.
What is this?Tate asked, her Savior’s voice showing her turmoil and confusion.Where are the others? Ryu? The emperor? What’s going on?
With a great deal of effort, Ilith pushed away the sense of nostalgia and desperation, even as she allowed herself to bask in that invisible force, letting it fill her to the brim.
After centuries of what felt like starvation, it felt as if her very cells were finally able to breathe properly again.
This was why dragons required a host on the other side of the veil. Without an atmosphere plentiful in that magic particle, survival was impossible.
Stupid dragon, how long are you going to ignore me?
Tate’s fear and agitation skated through Ilith, along with the lack of control and the uncertainty fueling her Savior’s turmoil.
I’m here,Ilith thought at Tate.
Her Savior’s emotions quieted. Is this where I think it is?
Yes.
A quiet filled the space between them as Ilith felt Tate using her eyes and senses to feel the world around them.
It’s beautiful.
Yes.There was an ache in Ilith’s voice that spoke of loss.
She thought she’d never come back here. Had been so certain of it. Yet here she stood. An impossibility made real. It shouldn’t be happening, yet it was and Ilith didn’t know how to react.
Thousands of years of existence even before their sleep and she felt as unsteady as a newborn dragonlette.
She’d mourned her home then set it aside in favor of forging a new one. It had been necessary at the time, but now she stood confronted with all that she had to give up.
Ilith sensed her Savior’s understanding. Her sorrow for what Ilith had suffered. Her regret and guilt.
Silly Savior. None of this was Tate’s fault. Ilith’s exile started long before her. By the time Tate found her and bonded with her, Ilith was already fading and would have died.
The thing current humans didn’t realize was that it was possible for dragons to visit their world for extended periods. Only the strongest could survive without the resource so plentiful on this side of the divide. It was considered a rite of passage for them. Ilith had been among the most powerful, but she’d spent too long away from home without a bond to sustain her. Without Tate’s mercy, she would have withered and faded until only her bones were left.
Her Savior’s feelings of regret helped ease the tightness in Ilith’s chest, shaking her loose from the shock that had rendered her immobile. There were times she envied her Savior for having forgotten so much of her past’s pain. Memories weren’t always the thing that held them together. Sometimes those memories were poison in the shape of sharp thorns, capable of creating wounds that never healed.
Translucent shapes wheeled and dipped through the sky in the distance, changing direction as they caught the disturbance from Ilith’s arrival. You didn’t traverse space without causing a bit of a fuss.
Ilith would have liked to know exactly how Jax recreated the Avenue of the Ancients, the path their strongest once used to access other worlds. More than one dragon had chosen a new world to settle in while on their odyssey. Content to die there rather than exist forever. Ilith was the last to use the Avenue since it had closed shortly after her departure. Until Rath who she suspected had made use of it once he felt Ryu’s pull, she thought it gone forever.
