The Eternal Dragon’s Call

Chapter 11: The Halls of Glass and Bone

"This is not a building, it is a tomb for everything we have ever lost."

Xavier stood frozen. The stone beneath his boots was gone. Instead, he walked on transparent, jagged glass that hummed with a low, sick vibration. Below his feet, he could see figures moving, trapped in the light. They were memories. He saw himself, younger and clean-faced, screaming as needles pierced his skin. The image flickered and vanished. He spun around, but the hallway behind him had dissolved into a swirling mist.

"Lyra?" he shouted. His voice echoed, sounding thin and terrified.

"Xavier?"

The voice was faint, vibrating directly against his collarbone. The poison bond between them was screaming, a high-pitched whine that clawed at his brain.

"Lyra, answer me. Where are you?"

"I do not know," she replied, her breath hitching. "The walls are moving. I am not in the halls anymore. I am in the courtyard of my father's house. But it is burning, Xavier. Everything is on fire."

Xavier stumbled forward, his hand pressing against his scaled arm. The violet light beneath his skin was pulsing in sync with the humming glass.

"Do not look at it," he said, his voice shaking. "Whatever you see, it is not real. The Citadel is eating our memories. It is feeding on the pain."

"It feels real," she sobbed. "I can smell the smoke. I can hear them screaming. My father is standing right in front of me, and he is telling me that I am the one who killed them."

"Lyra, listen to me," Xavier interrupted, his chest tightening. "Stop listening to them. Focus on my voice. You are here, with me. We are in the ruins."

"I cannot, Xavier. There are shadows everywhere. They look like my old unit. They are coming for me."

He heard the sharp ring of metal against metal.

"Fight them," he yelled. "Do not let the shadows win. If you fall to them, you will never wake up."

"What about you?" she gasped. "What are you seeing?"

Xavier looked down at the floor again. The glass shifted, turning opaque. He was suddenly in a sterile room, strapped to a table. He felt the phantom pain of metal tearing into his muscle. He felt the cold numbness of the serum they used to strip his mind.

"I am in the lab," he whispered, his eyes wide. "They are doing it again. They are cutting the memories out of my head."

"Xavier, get out of there," Lyra screamed.

"I cannot move. I am tied down. Lyra, it hurts so much."

He fell to his knees. The glass floor cracked under his weight. He could feel the cold metal of the table against his back. He was a boy again, broken and alone, being remade into something monstrous.

"Xavier, you are not there," Lyra shouted, her voice cutting through the fog of his nightmare. "You are with me. We are at the gates. We are in the Citadel. Fight it!"

"It is too heavy," he groaned, his head dropping to his chest. "I cannot carry it anymore."

"You do not have to carry it alone," she said, her voice softening, though the sounds of battle were still raging in the background on her end. "I am right here. I am fighting my shadows. You fight yours."

Xavier squeezed his eyes shut. He imagined her hand in his. He imagined the cold, sharp reality of the world they were building together.

"I am here," he whispered, forcing himself to stand. "I am here."

"Good," she said, her voice strained. "Because I am surrounded. There are too many of them. I think I am going to have to burn this whole place down to get back to you."

"Do it," he growled. "Burn it all. Just get to me."

"I will. I promise."

The connection flared, a sudden, blinding spike of heat that forced Xavier to stumble. He pushed through the glass, his feet bleeding where the jagged edges cut through his boots. He did not care about the pain. He only cared about the silence that started to grow between them.

"Lyra?"

No answer.

"Lyra, talk to me."

"They are too fast," she whispered. Her voice was barely audible. "I cannot see the exit."

"Use your void magic," Xavier commanded. "Stop playing by their rules. Tear the walls down."

"It is not working. The air is too thick."

Xavier ran. He sprinted through the shifting halls, his scaled arm glowing with a furious, violet rage. He smashed through a wall of crystalline bone, the fragments raining down like razor blades.

"I am coming for you," he shouted into the void.

"Xavier, wait," she said. "The courtyard is changing. I see something else now. It is you. You are standing next to my father."

"That is impossible," he said, skidding to a halt. "I have never been to your home."

"It is you," she insisted. Her voice was filled with a chilling, detached confusion. "You are holding a blade. And you are smiling."

"It is a lie," he roared, swinging his arm through a wall of light. "The Citadel is trying to turn us against each other. It is trying to make us doubt!"

"I know," she said, her voice suddenly calm. "I know."

The air around Xavier began to distort. The lab faded, and the glass floor turned into a swirling vortex of deep, bruised purple. He reached the center of the labyrinth, and his breath caught in his throat.

There was no exit. There were no more halls. There was only a single, massive chamber made of polished, black obsidian. In the middle of the room stood a stasis pod, glowing with a soft, steady blue light.

Xavier walked toward it, his heart hammering against his ribs. He had expected a monster. He had expected a dragon. He had expected a secret weapon.

He reached the glass and wiped the condensation away.

He stopped breathing.

Inside, curled up in the fetal position, was a boy. He looked no older than ten, his skin pale and his hair matted with grime. He was breathing, a slow, rhythmic movement that fogged the glass from the inside.

It was him.

It was Xavier, exactly as he had looked before the war, before the scales, before the poison, before the years of killing.

"Lyra," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I found it."

"Found what?" she asked.

"It is me," he said, his hand shaking as he touched the cold glass. "It is me in here. And he is alive."

The boy inside the pod opened his eyes. They were not the eyes of a child. They were old, burning with a cold, terrifying awareness that made Xavier scream and recoil.

The pod hissed, the seals breaking, and the glass began to slide open.

"Xavier?" Lyra’s voice was right behind him now. She sounded breathless, her clothes torn and her skin covered in fresh, dark blood. She stopped when she saw the pod. She looked at the boy, then at the man.

"What is this?" she asked, her hand hovering over her blade.

The boy stepped out, his feet hitting the cold floor with a sound like a heartbeat. He looked at Xavier, a slow, jagged smile spreading across his face.

"You took so long," the boy said, his voice sounding like two stones grinding together. "I have been waiting for you to die so I could finally take my place."