“What do you mean, it’s not there?”

Nivara held her breath, trying to stay calm as her dark blue cloak hid most of her expression, her mouth drawn tight as the cowl of her hood swooped low beneath her gaze. She bowed low, masking her fear as much as she could before giving herself a few moments to collect her thoughts. It wasn’t every day that you had to tell a ten foot dragon that he was, in fact, wrong.

“It is...not as you foretold. The Detector bot that crashed through the Divide. It is empty.”

The white dragon snarled viciously, his luminescent tail slamming against the white marble walls. His claws grinded against the smooth lacquered steps, crumbling the edges to dust as he paced back and forth in frustration.

“Not possible. My predictions are never wrong. I was told to retrieve the item myself and ordered you to analyse it to be sure. You are mistaken, Regent Nivara.”

Sweat rolled down her neck as she tried to keep her voice even, her eye contact straight ahead despite the hood concealing it. She dared not take another step forward, her back aching from the long duration of bowing she had to do. It would be a bad day indeed if the Throneholder of Opalis decided to riot over a disagreement with their own Regent.

“Sir, I assure you…”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Nivara hid her shaking hands as she stood as straight as she could, no longer bowing towards the already agitated dragon.

“Sir. You of all your kind should know that dragons cannot be lied to. Even if I could, all the evidence we have is in front of you.” Nivara said, gesturing to the clump of twisted metal which was once a highly sophisticated Detector bot turned potential meteor.

Ethros didn’t bother repeating himself and instead flung the mass of wires and panels at the wall. Empty, indeed.

Nivara took a deep breath, raised her head a fraction more before slowly reaching for her Trait much like you would a train of thought in an awkward conversation. Normally, she would be looking forward to her daily reports as her usual recipient was more well versed in the workings of Opalis and its neighbouring countries. Each one was surrounded by its own barrier with its own name akin to the Divide so despite their segregation it was quite easy to negotiate with other like minded representatives.

Ethros was not one of those people.

He knew only combat and war and spent his days patrolling the city and training others on how best to help their dragons when harnessing their own unique Traits. Nivara knew what war was like but in a time of peace, she had to adapt. Suppressing her own frustrations, she cast her mind away from the difficulty of her situation and decided to focus on the basics.

Whether or not Ethros knew of Lady Aria’s plans did not matter here. What mattered was her staying alive and not getting eaten.

“Ethros, Oathed partner to the Throneholder of Opalis.” she addressed him as, her back now a little straighter. “I am Lady Aria’s Regent, the one you both chose as your second in command when you agreed to ascend to the throne twelve years ago. As such, I am entitled to use my Trait in necessary situations to aid you in any way I can. If I may present you the evidence I have on Hellgrind?”

Ethros lurked around the main throne room, his scales skittering off the hard flooring before he lay on the ground. His outstretched claws were now mere inches away as his golden eyes surveyed every detail of the now empty room. It shone with brilliance, the white marble stone was blinding to look at as different coloured hues began rising up from beneath the floor and settled on the empty platform to the right of his. An empty throne. His reason for this entire meeting.

Dragons were proud, prideful and intelligent beyond their years but most of all, they were undeniably stubborn. Ethros had sent away all forty two sentry guards stationed in the main throne room and denied all attempts at allowing any other form of government, both dragon and Traited alike from entering the premises. Even going so far as to threaten to eat every other messenger who came three feet away from the palace.

“Proceed.”

Nivara nodded twice in quick succession, masking her surprise before closing her eyes, searching for the moisture within the air. Her cloak billowed out in all directions as her hands moved effortlessly, in a circular motion much like a stone skimming through water. Clapping her hands together, the water Trait now gathered on her hands burst out in a flash of blue light, a small, oblong, indigo grimoire now hovering in front of her.

Ethros raised his head but said nothing more as Nivara grasped her grimoire tight, a small amount of mist had now gathered at her feet. Nivara opened her grimoire as the mist began to shift and change, growing thicker as more fleeting images and colours passed through the mist before settling on a deep indigo, sweeping around the dragon and its creator. She closed the grimoire, pocketing it carefully as she raised her arm. There was more than enough Trait for her to work with.

“Ten years ago, Rider, Captain of the Night Force was imprisoned in Hellgrind for murder, manslaughter, severe misuse of Trait, necromancy and for the decimation of the city of Shuriken.”

The mist swirled as it rose up like a pillar of strength, settling into position as one by one it cast a series of images in front of the sceptial dragon. It showed a black haired woman with a vicious set of scars surrounded by masses of sphere like robots as they fired hundreds of red lasers at her.

The background changed to show the same woman slicing her way through a black barren wasteland with nothing but the sword in her hand as demons rose up from the earth beneath her feet only for them to be cut down in an instant.

The scene changed for the final time, depicting her with a much cruller expression than the last, this time completely still as she was strapped to a strange contraption which folded in on itself before letting out a torrent of black electricity.

Ethros winced at the last one, unable to watch as she merely stared straight ahead, her jaw set in determination despite the gut wrenching torture she was experiencing. The images disappeared from view, the mist still retaining its shape.

“Due to this, we stationed a select number of Traited to remain in Hellgrind and monitor Rider in her imprisonment. Every three months, without fail she broke free, killed those on guard and attempted to escape. But without her grimoire to store any Trait or her dragon to stabilise it, she was continuously forced back into imprisonment once more.”

The mist leapt to attention once again as a series of brutal events began to play. Each Traited, man or woman set out to stop her but all they could do was slow her down. Rider moved effortlessly, dodging and ducking plumes of flames as one headstrong man sent a barrage of punches at her, his knuckles white hot with Trait as he grew tired from the effort.

She did not dodge a single one, but instead took each blow and waited before delivering a swift series of kicks to the side of his head and neck. In a matter of seconds she had killed the Fire Traited and his dragon as it let out a wailing shriek before they both turned to dust. She scrambled among the dirt and remains, scouring for any signs of her grimoire only to be surrounded by Detector bots and forced straight back into the interfolding cell once again.

This scene repeated with varying degrees of differences but each one ending with at least one Oathed partnership being killed and Rider being forced back into the interchanging prison of the Lazarus Pit. It was a time loop, a continuous stream of events which always ended the same way.

“I see. Aria explained to me the process behind the prison but never truly showed me how it worked.” Ethros said, watching as the thirty ninth person, a Dual Traited water and fire user attempted to use steam to block her path.

“I believe, the reason she couldn’t escape was due to a Traited named Sleek?”

Nivara was jolted out of her train of thought as Ethros addressed her directly through the mist screen. She stepped to the side, allowing him to see her once again before providing an answer.

“Yessir.”

Nivara clicked her fingers once as the screen changed again, this time showing a small square photo of a young sandy haired man with a small golden dragon perched on his shoulder. A varying degree of information was written underneath, his name, age and general details of his Trait.

“His Analyst Trait allowed him to create infinite possibilities as to when and where she would strike next and how best to infiltrate with the Detector bots. However, Sleek himself did not know he was able to do so and assumed it as basic protocol.”

The mist shimmered a little as if on fast forward to show what looked like camera footage of Sleek’s workspace looked like. It was unorganised and messy but his workspeed was unparalleled as he watched through seven different screens as Rider attempted to escape, only to be met by a large amount of Detector bots when she least expected it. After each wave of attacks, Sleek would press his palm to his ear and relay the information aloud to Lady Aria, Sashio nuzzling his arm all the while and providing the responses she felt he needed to hear. She provided the comfort and confirmation to continue without him even realising it. He truly believed he was reporting to Lady Aria herself, every single time.

“Poor fool.” Ethros said, sighing bitterly as he recognised the pain in Sashio’s eyes mirroring his own.

Nivara smiled sympathetically, seeing the hurt in his eyes. Ethros had a varying degree of bruises littered across his abdomen where his scales were the weakest. A few scorch marks still remained on his folded wings as his immaculately sharp claws now seemed chipped and broken. Nivara hadn’t noticed before now but he was exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally. But she had to keep going.

“Sashio meant a great deal to him I’m sure, but unfortunately that was his downfall.” Nivara said, finding it hard to admit to Ethros considering his current mood on the situation.

The mist darkened to a black mass of a thunder cloud as it showed Sleek’s final moments. Nivara glanced at Ethros glued to the screen. When she first saw it she was horrified that Rider had managed to gather enough Trait to create such a despicable method of extracting what she needed. It was virtually impossible to hold onto so much Trait without a grimoire and the erratic and violent nature of it only proved to fuel it. If anything, the previous attempts seemed kind compared to the scene he witnessed, forcing Sashio to reveal the location of something she had no intention of using in her escape.

“I’ve seen enough.” Ethros said suddenly, turning away from the mist and blowing it away with a sweep of his tail.

Nivara stood shocked, her mouth open as her Trait retreated back beside her as she held it carefully together with her free hand.

“No. You haven’t.”

Ethros turned back around, his solemn mood now one of fury towards anyone who dared accuse him.

“What, did you say?”

Nivara stood firm with her head held high, despite the cowl covering her face. She was done playing his game. She needed to show every bit of evidence she had painstakingly gathered because without it, he would dismiss all of her theory without a word. She needed to convince him that this was more important than finding a grimoire that didn’t exist.

“You can’t just get rid of something when you don’t like it. Aria is not here to make decisions. You don’t know all the details and despite that, you insist on obsessing over something which we cannot find. Speculation doesn’t get results. Proof does.”

Nivara held her breath as a torrent of mist flew open from the pages of the grimoire. She had one last image to show. Ethros snarled in annoyance, swatting a claw at the ever increasing mist, flashes of white mixing with the indigo haze before finally settling on a decrepit, desolate expanse of sky which Ethros himself had seen only a few hours ago.

The top of the Divide was a shining light in a vast expanse of darkness, the debris floating among the night sky, suspended in mid air as if surrounded by an invisible bubble. Nothing remained. Only the faint shadowy wisps of fragmented shards which were once part of a large expanse of a prison meant solely for one race. Demons.

They slammed into the top of the Divide without mercy, biting and clawing their way just to get another chance at freedom. The hole they attempted to devour was no bigger than a golf ball and the only way to break free was to destroy the entire Divide itself. A few minor demons had managed to wriggle their way through the gap but amidst the rising storm was a bright blazing beacon of light.

Ethros forced himself to watch with clenched jaw as he and his partner flew towards the bot like a dragon demented. Thousands of feet up in the air in a raging storm was dangerous at best but against a horde of demons at night was pure suicide. He had to make a decision. Seal the Divide to save his people? Rescue his partner? Or save Opalis from becoming a crater?

Ethros howled in pain as the scene fizzled out before the scene could conclude, hiding his snout beneath his claw in shame. He felt each strain in his wings as he barrelled for the bot in his mind, expecting Aria to be right there with him. But she wasn’t. She had been struck out of the sky and left to plummet alone, caught by a stray bolt of lightning as she fought the demons back herself. It allowed the Divide to reseal, her people to be safe and the treacherous object to be recovered. All at the expense of her safety.

“It can’t be empty. It just...can’t be.” Ethros said, his voice low and quiet as he tucked his wings further into himself.

Nivara stayed quiet, fiddling with the end of her sleeves. She was unsure of how to proceed. There was so much more to discuss and plan but the guilt settling in the pit of her stomach had her regretting ever opening her mouth. Ethros was in mourning, his partner barely alive and there was nothing anyone could do to help her. Nivara’s gaze soon drifted towards the horizon, another storm steadily brewing as dark clouds continued to cover the Divide in a mottled grey hue. There was only so much time left before the truth would be revealed. They could not delay the night sky much further.

“You aren’t focusing on what’s important right now. This, is all that’s left of Hellgrind. We cannot hide these events forever. The storm allowed us to move undetected to retrieve the evidence but all our efforts came to naught. The grimoire was never there. You must accept that and start thinking ahead...regardless of Aria’s fate.”

Ethros roared in indignation, Nivara struggling to keep her footing as his roar sent shockwaves through the room, making her ears ring and her knees shake as if he had caused her very bones to rattle out of place.

“I know what I saw! My vision showed that wretched woman produce Trait like I’ve never seen, only to die to the very curse she created! And for what? To send us a lump of scrap metal? No. She may have destroyed Hellgrind but that was not her true goal. We need to find that grimoire. Now.”

“But-”

“NOW!”

Nivara felt her eyes well up with tears but she forced them away with a sweep of her arm. They were tears of frustration and fear, not anger or hate. If he wanted to yell at her to find something that didn’t exist, fine. But she at least needed a reason why. She grit her teeth in frustration, doing her best to rein in her Trait as the storm outside swelled in response.

“Why?” Nivara yelled, ignoring Ethros’ snarling teeth as he growled dangerously low. She glared at him as bravely as she dared, back bent as her cloak swirled behind her defensively.

“Why would it not be her goal? She has destroyed a city with her Trait, why not her entire prison too? A grimoire cannot survive without a host, Ethros. There is no way, Oathed or not.”

“I know what I saw. I am ordering you-”

“After Hellgrind was destroyed, she succumbed to the same fate that all Oathed do. She killed Sleek, retrieved her grimoire and turned to ash.” Nivara rambled, trying to get him on the same page as quickly as she could without getting eaten.

“What of it?” Ethros said, stalking forwards as Nivara took as many steps backward as he did to avoid his prowling claws.

“Her dragon resurrected her somehow. She was turned to stone by the Oathed bond, twice.”

Ethros stopped in his tracks, his face now one of surprise than anger. He stood, stock still as Nivara kept one eye on the exit. He had taken the bait. No dragon could resist a good mystery.

“That’s...unheard of. Surely she must’ve tricked it somehow?”

Nivara gave a wan smile in response at the intrigued dragon. He was no longer as angry, his scales now flat as his wings as he stood upright, proud but his eyes betrayed his curiosity. He wanted to know. Just like she did.

“She didn’t trick it. Her partner did.”

Ethros huffed in annoyance, slumping down in thought once again. Nivara let out a deep breath as she leaned against a wall and tried to steady her rapidly beating heart.

Suddenly, Ethros burst into laughter, his loud booming voice echoing around the marbled roof.

“Of course he did, the bloody necromancer. Nightshade always did like to fly closer to death, every time we fought.”

Nivara stood, visibly stunned as Ethros gave a hint of a smile, a sign he was returning to his old self again.

“I take it this is why you wanted my opinion? Why you fought so hard to keep my attention on what mattered?” Ethros questioned, his attention now fully focused on the conversation.

Nivara nodded, unable to speak at such a change in mood. She held her tongue a little longer, shifting her feet impatiently as she waited for Ethros to think things through, just as she had done. She had more time to look over the evidence and see things from a different view. Telling him herself or using her Trait hadn’t worked. She had to give him as much time as possible.

“As you say, it doesn’t make sense. Hellgrind would have crumbled eventually, regardless of her deciding to destroy it. Why go through all that trouble to bring her back if all she was going to do was waste her Trait like that? Hardly worth the effort.”

Nivara perked up a little, glad to finally have a worthy debate.

“The sheer force of the blast could easily have been enough to shatter the Divide had you not intervened, sir. That must have been a risk Rider was willing to take. I’m sure, Lady Aria would say the same....” Nivara said, her eyes widening underneath her cloak as she tried to stop her slip up but it was too late.

Ethros raised an eyebrow, his smile disappearing as quickly as it came.

“You think so, do you? What’s to say you weren’t involved in some way, hmm? Especially with those assumptions, it sounded like you knew exactly what she might be planning. Unless you're making things up just to drive me away from the truth.”

Nivara clamped her hands over her mouth, all courtesy out the window as she shook her head, desperate to rectify her assumptions. Ethros’ eyes were fixated on her, his demeanour now tense as his eyes narrowed, his suspicion of her clear on his face.

“Fine, then. Come nightfall, the storm will have gone and the Divide will be visible. Bring your evidence, including whatever’s left of that damnable bot and we’ll see who’s right.”

Nivara gulped, his glare now proving he was as sceptical about her as when he started. She had stupidly tried to sidetrack him by mentioning a theory that barely held up against all the evidence she had just agonizingly spent the time going through with him. Assuming truly does make an ass out of a bad situation.

“Yessir.” she said, as quietly as possible before bowing low.

“Grimoire or not, if I am right about you or this situation, then I’ll be sure to enjoy having you as a midnight snack.”