The Night Rider

Chapter 64 - Purpose

Nivara’s breath felt cold.

The pounding in her head became a thunderous roar of a dragon, her heartbeat far louder than she had ever thought possible. The chill night air of Caldor felt strange, unfamiliar even as Aidari’s wrinkled hands against her armchair became rigid and numb. Kirai’s Tarragon's green eyes still burned in her mind.

“Nivara!”

Fiora’s scream sounded warbled, lost underwater in a bubble of sound she couldn’t break through. Nivara couldn't turn her head, her eyes unfocused, still swimming with all the information Aidari had tried to force feed her in a matter of minutes.

“Tempest! Can you hear me?”

The silver glow of Fiora’s Air Trait became sharper, angular with a row of teeth more akin to a demon than her mother. Nivara shrieked, still pinned in place even as she tried to flee, her chair pitching backwards in surprise. Her body slammed on the ground mid seizure, caught in the Surge’s grip until the entire weight of the ceiling began to crack. Nivara had never been afraid of sand until the Silt Pillars.

“Nessra!”

The sand that had once surrounded her evaporated into a flash freeze of her own making. Like being shunted out of a bad dream, Nivara awoke into cold sweats, desperate to breathe despite the sand clogging her throat but there was nothing to be found. Nothing except frost.

"What…what was that? What…"

Nivara’s hand immediately clamped over her mouth in an attempt to stop herself from retching, desperate to clear herself of every granule that had covered her skin. The sand was cold against her clothes, melting instantly into unfamiliar snowflakes until the fear of being buried slowly subsided.

"It’s alright, it’s alright. It was just a Memory Weave. I showed you the night you were forced to forget your Trait.”

Quilla’s soothing voice didn’t do anything to comfort her. Nivara’s chair was coated in ice, an immovable throne of her own making that refused to move no matter how much her Trait carved into it. The frost that encased her brittle hands began to thaw, the wraps around her arms now soaked but the strange Everchange cloak she had stolen, inherited, remained bone dry.

“But I wasn’t there. I wasn’t a kid in the memory…I-I was Aidari.”

Nivara felt like she had been punched in the face.

The kind, grandmotherly face of a dragon became stern, hiding the fear and horror between a mask of control. Nivara knew that mask. It only meant one thing. Quilla hadn't been the one to send her into that memory.

“What did you see?”

Quilla's demanding tone hid her desperation from the others, Nivara craning her neck to try and gauge other people's reactions but the Sentinel's ice blue eyes refused to let her look away. Nivara shivered, not used to feeling the cold.

"The Timekeeper….he arrived into Aidari's home unexpectedly. Alone. No Agar, no apprentice. Nothing." She said, her voice shuddering against the sudden cold and nerves.

Anirii’s set of intricate cave systems were now dusted in a fine layer of snow, Nivara attempting to shrink away apologetically from her erratic Storm Traits outburst. She shuffled awkwardly in her chair, ignoring the snuffles and sneezes from some of the Dunefur Tinker Mole’s, their pale blonde fur still too short for travel beyond Caldor.

“I was…I mean, my younger self was asleep throughout the entire thing. I wasn’t ushered away or protected by my mother like I initially thought. We were all asleep. My family died in their sleep and he…”