To The Edge of Light

“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley,” the girl mused as she ran her fingers through her younger sister’s unruly curls.

“What do you mean?” the younger one chirped. “Grandmother’s told stories of them being around since she was a baby, and she’s as ancient as it gets.”

The elder sister, Kieran, huffed a laugh as she primly tugged the remaining strands into the plait and tied it with an onyx ribbon. Appropriate for today’s festivities, she thought. Best save all colour and allusions of hope for more fortunate times.

“You mustn't speak that way. Not today, at least.”

The two sisters, cloaked in fabrics richer than night, weaved their way through their bedroom’s antechamber and out into the hall. It was devoid of the usual clammer, and their footsteps echoed off the stone walls ominously.

Kieran stopped and turned to her sister.

“No matter what happens at the ceremony, I need you to promise me something.”

The girl’s temper quickly became morose. “What is it?”

Kieran bristled at her tone, but began, “There is no world I would choose to live in should I not have you. From the moment you were born, I have sworn to protect you. Now that—'' she broke off, blinking away the mist that blurred her vision. “Now that the Duke is dead, Niacynth must bridge with another. I know there are thousands of us in Ctevia, more so in all of Vellera, but you must promise me: you will not entice her, you will not reach out to her, you will not look at her, should she take you.”

For that was what Niacynth, and all dragons, did upon their bridging. The ritual of establishing dragon and human connection often took years—moments slipped away from us like silk on skin, as the great beasts established the metaphysical connection with their rider. Despite this stolen time, it was an honour sought after by many. It is whispered that those who bridge live longer than any man should, emerging as legends many times over.

Her sister, by the gods, happened to have an unusual connection with the beasts. Each dragon that visited Ctevia was already bridged with another, as free roaming dragons were banned from the city in order to protect the vulnerable. Despite this, the dragons that came into their light would often follow the young girl of their own volition, shadows stalking in the brightest of places.

“You know I’m not to blame for the things that happen,” Kieran’s sister said. “Regardless, I will try my very best to go unnoticed.”

Something dark caught her attention past Kieran’s shoulder, and her pale blue eyes flashed as she leaned to peer out the window. Down below, she could see servants swarming in preparation for the Duke’s ceremony. The shield that enclosed their city shimmered faintly in the distance. Through the haze, dark figures twisting through the sky gradually became clear to her: wings, tails, and giant claws tumbling together in frenzied anticipation. A shiver crept down her spine.

Kieran sighed as she led her sister down the spiral staircase and out into the courtyard.

The morning sun shone its white light on the city, pristine in marble and glass. Domes and spires reflected iridescent hues on the surrounding buildings and lush greenery. From their vantage point, they could see to the Rift—the point at which Ctevia dropped off into the expansive abyss known as the Valley, and where the city’s shield began. It was also the point at which the dragons were kept from entering their world.

Until today.

“Girls!”

They turned their heads at the sound of their mother, Lady Emison, drawing near. Donned in deep blue ceremonial robes, she looked every bit the High Lady of Ctevia.

“Why are you both still here? You should be heading to the Rift by now,” she chided.

“Forgive us. We lost track of time,” Kieran said absently.

Without speaking, Lady Emison whipped her dark hair and strode down the stone pathway towards the Rift. Behind her, their grandmother eyed them reproachfully. Her glass gaze tore through them, almost in warning. She silently followed down the path.

***

The ceremony was being held at the outermost point of Ctevia. The winds beckoned and the river shot off the side of the cliff, eager to free fall into the Valley below. Looking out, you could see the dark haze that obscured the bottom—if one existed—as well as the neighbouring land masses, suspended like autumn leaves in perpetual flight.

Kieran and her sister were standing amongst other High Born children, slightly behind their Lord and Lady parents to be obscured from plain sight.

The Duke’s body lay on a marble dais, beneath a silver swath of thick fabric. Surrounding him were the Duchess, her two sons, aunts, uncles, and other members of the High Court. Fellow dragon-riders stood solemnly to the left side, opposite Kieran and her sister. Their eyes were unnerving, shining much like the dragon’s, searing and uncompromising in their gaze. Kieran shifted uncomfortably after catching the eye of one of them.

“And so, as the stars blink out from their nests in the sky, let His Grace be remembered as one we were fortuitous enough to exist alongside, even for a short time,” the Priest declared. The Duke was finally being inducted into the Realm of the Ether, where all spirits reside after death.

On cue of the conclusion of the formal rites, their brightest sun flickered like a candle going out. Shadows stretched wildly, inhumane, overtop of the gathering. Kieran gripped her sister’s hand tightly, hoping to convey all the meaning that couldn’t be spoken aloud at that moment.

Leaning over to her sister’s ear, she whispered “Come along.”

Together they slid through the throng of people whose gazes were cast to the sky. They both knew, without looking, what had caught the city’s attention: dragons of all size and shape congregating outside of the shield. Waiting, like a dog awaiting dinner, for it to be brought down.

With a surge and a groan, the protective shell around their city melted away, cast off by the Priest as a final measure of the late Duke’s wishes: for Niacynth herself to take her rider where no living man can go.

Kieran hurried as she led them to a dilapidated tower, just beyond the outskirts of the ceremony grounds. Foliage crept up the sides of the punctured stone, obscuring it slightly from view. After rushing up the stairs to the top level, they watched as the dragon made her grand entrance.

At the crest of the river, where the shield once stood, was an arduously detailed gate. Wreathed in iron and jewelled spires, it stretched hundreds of feet high to accommodate the size of Niacynth.

Her massive body undulated as she sought her way through the gate. Black scales rippled iridescent. She brought her claw down into the river—her first step into Ctevia since the Duke’s death—and her golden eyes flashed knowingly, as the reality of the city’s grief seeped in. Her gaze scanned the people below her, her kin behind her, and the body of her Duke before her.

Upon seeing him, the tension in her body seeped out, her head drawing low and submissive to her rider. A low, seismic wail began at the back of her throat, jolting people out of their trance.

Kieran’s eyes were drawn to the dozens of other dragons beyond the gate. Their eyes were fixed on Nicaynth, growing increasingly volatile, completely ignoring the calls from their riders. An overwhelming feeling of unrest settled upon Kieran, and she turned to her sister.

“Are you feeling the same as I?”

Her sister nodded, a vacant look in her eyes indicating something was amiss.

“Look at me,” Kieran urged.

What she saw made her blood go cold.

Her sister’s eyes were wide, ice blue as always, but with rivulets of gold seeping through her irises. She grabbed her hands, only to feel them searing hot and clammy beneath her own.

“What is—”

A sudden roar rattled Kieran’s bones. She looked to the throng of people, only to see what she feared most: Niacynth, suddenly hostile, had her eyes locked on Kieran’s sister. Gold and silver mirrored her sister’s eyes, swirling rapidly, hypnotic in their dance.

Niacynth lunged forward.

Kieran grabbed her sister’s hand and together, they launched themselves out of the window.

Crashing through vines and brambles, they landed in a heap dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. Panting, Kieran and her sister ducked as the beast, in her rage, decimated the tower they once stood upon with one whip of her tail.

Distantly, officials were belting orders and demanding spectators to remain calm and evacuate. Kieran had to rely on faith that someone, anyone had spotted them during their free fall and was coming to help.

She didn’t have long to make that wish before, once more, she’s pushing her sister out of the way of the falling tower’s remains.

“KIERAN—”

Reflexively, her hand sought that of her sister’s. They met, and she felt a tug.

Her sister was dangling perilously off the edge of the world.

“Oh, gods, hold on,” Kieran choked, “Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

Tears pricked her eyes at this colossal failure. How stupid she’d been to hope for her safety instead of ensuring it, beyond failure of a doubt.

The sound of footfall and the dragon’s hissing briefly registered in her mind, and she moved quickly to haul her sister up from the edge. Wrist and elbow and shoulder spasmed with the weight. Wind whipped her hair and shot mist from the nearby river, making her grip slick.

A plume of dust rose from behind her, with shouts and roars mottling the air. The other dragon-riders were now advancing towards Niacynth in an attempt to overcome her. Claws gouged and hot, acid breath spewed behind Kieran. She focused her efforts on her sister, who was just bringing her torso onto the solid ledge.

A deafening boom sounded, launching Kieran into the air and scrambling to keep her grip on her sister’s frail hand. She struggled to find purchase on the safety of ground, and when she did, the impact was so rattling that her hand jolted open instinctively. Her sister’s hand slipped, and she caught a glimpse of her face that very moment: terrified, pleading, and so very young.

One moment, she was there, and the next—a vast expanse of emptiness. Kieran felt like her lungs had ripped from their cavity, breathless and hollow as she was. Her sister was gone.

A shriek unlike anything Kieran had ever heard filled her ears. Niacynth was rising from the ground, wings pumping relentlessly, smoke tendrils pluming from her nostrils. Her eyes sought the place where Kieran’s sister had fallen, and the people who had done nothing to save her. A furious glow erupted deep in her throat, glowing brighter and bigger with each beat of her wings.

Kieran knew that, despite her efforts, everything was lost to her. She had tried and failed, time and time again, to ensure her sister could live in a world free of this turmoil between man and beast. Free of the expectations bestowed upon her when the elders discovered her gift. Free of the pain of losing everything before it had even begun. Kieran bowed her head and shut her eyes against what was to come.

The great beast reared its head, and the world was engulfed in flames.