Keeper Jonathan was just about to go on break. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, and his joints hurt. Even though his days were shorter than those of other [Bankers], he still received the same breaks at the same intervals. Some people complained, saying it was favoritism. One young coworker had once suggested that, if he tired so quickly, why not take a longer break? Perhaps, permanently?
Jonathan had taken the comment in stride, treating it like a joke and laughing, saying he wasn’t ready to retire. At this point, the bank was his life.
Fortunately, he rarely needed to work the counter these days, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t busy. As a [Vault Keeper], he had more responsibilities than most people realized. It wasn’t glamorous or glorious, but it gave him insight into the wealth of the population that few others had. His main skill, [Audit], replicated the inner workings of a joint account to ensure accuracy. He could insert a special key into the vault door and enter a copy of the vault in question.
His skill did not create tangible goods. It wasn’t like he could enter a noble patron’s vault and double their coins. While he was inside, he could touch and arrange any items he wished, but they couldn’t be removed. It was not, as some youngsters believed, a way to get rich quickly. He was a [Keeper], not a [Thief], and stealing money from the accounts he visited would defeat the purpose of an audit.
Jonathan was just about to sit down in the break room when the world shook with a horrifying scream. The world seemed to stop as people around him froze mid-action, transfixed. One coworker had a sandwich raised halfway to her lips, while another was pouring coffee onto his pants. Silence followed, and the room settled on uneasy nerves.
A second roar shook the bank. Tables rattled and stacks of papers fell to the floor. Several people screamed. Jonathan looked around him, where everyone else seemed to be shaking in fear. And yet, other than being surprised and mildly annoyed, he felt no fear.
Jonathan would not consider himself a brave man. He was not an adventurer or a soldier. But whatever happened in the world outside did not affect him like it had everybody else. A woman closest to the window recovered quickly, pointed outside, and shouted.
“Look! The sky! It’s on fire!”
Several people nearby managed to pull themselves together long enough to rush to the window. They crowded around the woman, each one trying to poke their heads outside.
“That’s not fire, it’s blood!”
“Where’s the sun?!”
“Is the world ending?!”
Jonathan got up quickly…as quickly as his bones would let him…and shuffled to the back of the growing crowd.
While not real blood or fire, Jonathan felt his jaw grow slack. In all of his long years living in Horizon, he had never seen the sky go so red. Not even in the heat of summer at the end of the day, when the sun sank low and seemed to set the ocean aflame.
The group around the window held their breath, but nothing happened. The sky didn’t come crashing down and the ground didn’t open up to swallow them whole. For a moment, things seemed to pass.
And then the screaming started.
Jonathan was confused, since it was clearly coming from outside and he couldn’t tell what was being said. But after several moments, the yelling came closer.
“Dragon! There’s a dragon!”
“Run! Save yourselves!”
“We’re going to die!!”
The earlier panic returned tenfold and pandemonium ensued. His normally calm and collected coworkers pushed and shoved,
Fighting their way toward the exit. Some even tried to throw themselves through the window in their haste to flee. Jonathan wasn't that spry, so he took the long way out to the plaza.
The Aetherstone fountain was dyed as crimson as the sky above. Wails rose in the streets as people scattered and ran. Somebody tripped beside him, and as Jonathan bent down to help them up, he got a closer look. They were afflicted by a debuff. All of them were, it seemed, except himself.
[The Destroyer Approaches]
Jonathan stared in shock. The [Destroyer]? As in, the fairytale? Told to errant little children who wouldn’t brush their teeth? It was supposed to be the bogeyman. A force of nature so great it would bring ruin to everything around them if provoked. A cautionary tale more than something grounded in truth or reality.
But as Jonathan looked around, his thoughts began to change. Smoke was rising over the building tops; he could smell parts of the city burning. He heard explosions like great spells going off before the ground shook like an earthquake, crumbling buildings like they were made of sand. And at last, he joined up with everybody in the plaza, who had frozen in their haste to reach the Aetherite. Those who could afford to do so had already teleported out, leaving those less fortunate to stare up in wonder as a god descended upon the mortal realm.
What else could it be?
In the haze of distance, clearly far away, was a giant dragon. It was larger than anything Jonathan had ever seen, larger than buildings, larger than mountains, larger than life itself. It opened its mouth and shockwaves came out. Seconds later, tiles flew off of roofs as small birds scattered, and people who stood on shaky feet were bowled over. The noise hit him like running into a wall and his body ached. Jonathan stared as the figure, partially shrouded by the mist of distance, lowered its huge face toward the city walls. He watched part of it crumble.
Perhaps…there was some credit to those stories after all.
But for some reason, he did not feel so overwhelmed. Not like all these people around him, who, in their haste to flee, would only end up hurting themselves. Jonathan didn’t know what the dragon was after, but its focus seemed elsewhere. These people needed safety…safety, maybe, he could provide.
“Mark, get up!” Jonathan kicked a young man who’d fallen near his feet. “Anna! You too! Come! With me!”
“Isn’t it pointless?” The girl asked. Unlike some others, she seemed to have given up. “What can we do?”
“Hide,” Jonathan chuckled ruefully. Again, he was no hero. But he wasn’t going to throw his life away either. “I know a place safer than out here on the streets. Grab anybody who’s willing. There’s enough space for everybody!”
“Where are we going?” Mark asked. It seemed the man only needed a little bit of instruction to pick him up.
“To the bank,” Jonathan replied. Mark slowed down once more.
“The bank? You can’t be serious. It’s a dragon. How is the bank going to be safe?”
“Because we can hide in a vault,” Jonathan sighed. “You know how secure those are. No matter what happens to the building itself, the system will protect the vault.”
“Yes,” Mark complained, even as he sped up to assist the old man. “But those will hardly do us any good. I don’t even have a vault…how many people can we possibly fit inside?”
“Oh, don’t you worry,” Jonathan chuckled, reaching forward toward the great vault door and activating his skill. “I know just the place.”
The door glowed with magic and the handles spun. The door slowly swung open, revealing, not a small nook with hoarded works of art, but an entire hallway. Mark froze, transfixed, as Anna’s jaw fell open. Jonathan quickly shuffled inside, turning as he did so.
“Quickly!” He urged his companions, “Go find others! At least clear the lobby and the plaza!”
The sight of one dragon reminded him of another. Surely, if she knew the circumstances, the owner of this vault would approve. The face of a smiling gnome nodded at him in his memory, even as people began to flood in.
Now all he had to do was start counting. This was an [Audit], after all.
The dragon roared, shaking the walls of Penny’s restaurant. Penny looked up at the ceiling as if daring it to fall. The old estate might have been built from mere stone, but she was made of sterner stuff.
Her name was Penelope Dracodottir.
She was not afraid of dragons.
In fact, she’d thrown one or two out before, trying to bully their way into her establishment. Did they think they were better than everyone else?
To be fair, there was always a bigger fish. In this case, a bigger lizard? Dragons were to humans what humans were to halflings and gnomes. And then there was whatever baleful creature let out that roar.
Penny’s [Cooking] master was a dragon, though she didn’t often parade around as one, so Penny was familiar with one’s cry. It took a subtle ear to listen to the differences in each draconic voice, but with enough practice, it was possible to tell one apart from another. Slaving over the fires of her kitchen, it wasn’t easy, but Penny was sure of one thing.
This dragon was huge.
Okay, so it wasn’t the most difficult deduction to make, but Penny also knew a thing or two about a dragon’s size. There were exceptions, but a bigger dragon was a more powerful dragon. This, she also knew from experience, catering to the wealthy and elite of Horizon. Over the years, she had served dishes to a handful of dragons, and more than one had tried to buy her outright after a single taste.
Her, as in, herself, Penny, not the restaurant.
Penny was quite good at chucking dragons out of her door. Mixing dishes required a good deal of arm strength.
“[Master Chef], what do we do?” One of her junior [Chefs] quailed in fear. Penny finished drizzling a sauce over some cream puffs for a dessert she wasn’t going to let go to waste, even if the diner who ordered it had already fled.
“We stay,” she commanded. After the first roar, debuffs started appearing rapidly over everybody. Penny had expected to receive one of her own, but it never came. She didn’t know why. With a few exceptions, she was just like everybody else. After the ground stopped shaking and the dust settled, she figured they were safer indoors than trying to face whatever was going on outside. She took it upon herself to be strong for everyone around her, who were looking to her for guidance.
And shelter. And security.
Time to be a grandma.
Her restaurant was barely open for the day when the world started ending, and most people had fled to their homes to be with their loved ones. Some had been too preoccupied or otherwise didn’t know what to do. Others still had steadfastly refused to give up their reservations.
…stubbornly holding their spot in line in the face of Armageddon was admirable. Suicidal, maybe, but it took some guts. Or a lack of brain.
As such, Penny was surprised to find her dining halls half-full when she emerged from the kitchens. With a roar like that, she didn’t know what to expect, and she had been shocked speechless when she saw the sky outside. A giant black shape could be seen striding over the city in the distance, moving away from them. With each giant footfall, the ground shook and the streets tore apart, but Penny’s was secure. She could see where a couple of buildings had fallen, but she could do nothing for those outside her influence. Penny decided to shelter those who stayed.
“Maylene,” Penny said to the junior [Chef] as she plated up the cream puffs. “Bring these into the main hall. Serve one per guest, I’ll start the next course.”
“We are…giving them away?” Maylene asked in disbelief. Penny’s was a 5-star restaurant. These [Cream Puffs] were a 5-star dessert. One didn’t just…give them away.
“I’m feeling generous,” Penny smiled. “And, in honor of our unruly visitor outside, I think I know what I’ll be serving for the main course.”
“Visitor?” Maylene asked weakly, referencing the giant dragon. Her own debuff had not gone away, but she’d been bolstered by Penny’s steadfast presence.
“Indeed,” Penny chuckled. “How are we feeling about [Dragonbreath Chili]?”
The Ariad estate employed many servants to keep the grounds, the manor, and indeed, the inhabitants in peak condition. As the residence of a pair of draconic ambassadors, it was opulent, grand, and designed to clearly showcase the glory of dragon-kind.
It didn’t hold a whelp’s flickering breath to the spires of World’s End, but it was home.
Dragons, being what they are, require a certain level of upkeep. Not to the same degree as a pet that needs to be fed and watered…a dragon requires finery much like a horse needs hay. Though saying a dragon was reliant upon a servant like some mere stable hand was simply incorrect. Dragons surrounded themselves with the lesser species to take care of all the tasks they deemed beneath them.
And to stroke their suitably inflated egos.
One would be forgiven if they harbored bitterness or envy toward a dragon. It is only natural to be jealous of one's betters.
The good people of Horizon might be slightly different than the majority of the modern world (outside of other capital cities), as they have been softened by the presence of draconic ambassadors, a position quite paradoxical in truth. If an ambassador was meant to be the shining example of their people sent to ease tensions and liaise with the mortal races, then the Ariads were a poor fit. Just as any ambassador to come before them. The Dragon King, in his wisdom, would not send an average member of his species, only outliers. And, in order to shelter Humanity’s weak minds, he could not send those who embodied the greatest aspects of what it meant to be a dragon.
If a dragon were too strong, the people would feel weak.
If a dragon were too wise, the people would feel foolish.
If a dragon were too magical, the people would feel useless.
Even if such things were true of all dragonkind, the Dragon King did not wish to oppress his lesser neighbors and shackle them with overwhelming humiliation. As such, no dragon over level 1000 was allowed to serve as an ambassador.
And to call it “serve” was a strong term when the estate employed nearly 100 Humans to care for two dragons. Some dragons, back in the spires, would claim 100 mortals to be too few. Those were not a good fit for the position. Nor would they be happy with the sprawling mansion grounds, despite being the size of multiple noble residences in the compact human capital. A dragon needed adequate space to stretch their wings and allow their true body to relax. This was usually accompanied by a suitably dark and brooding lair reminiscent of their native mountain caves, filled with treasure and surrounded by their hoards.
The estate in Horizon had no caves, so it needed a dedicated building engineered to replicate the inside of one. It was fortunate, then, that the Ariads were a mated couple and only required a single lair.
Dragons were not bound by such things as polygamy or monogamy, and yet, there were only two options to any dragon. It varied by the individual, but they would either seek out a single partner and mate for life…or acquire the largest harem in the land. One or the other, never a compromise. Dragons never did things by halves.
So, while to the humans of Horizon, the Ariad Estate might resemble the most commanding Duke’s abode, it was closer to a summer cottage to the two that resided there.
“Brione, prepare a bath for Raztara. She spent the day assisting the king’s men with training and she’ll want to relax.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Malorion entered the lair and gazed upon the glittering piles of treasure heaped into the corners. While he had gotten used to the soft feather mattresses the humans enjoyed, nothing beat the feeling of solid gold beneath his scales. Once, as a novelty, he had considered commissioning a mattress resized to fit his true form, but it would have been unwieldy for the crafters to move and would have eradicated an entire down farm.
“It’s not much,” his wife’s voice called from behind him, “But it’s ours. Isn’t it amazing what mortals can accomplish in a mere 30 years?”
Malorian turned to find the naked form of Raztara striding toward him. His eyes greedily drank her in, and she posed, showing off every detail. She was a beautiful creature, and she was his. Just as he was hers. Malorian noticed a few of the servants averting their eyes and smirked. Why should he care if their gaze lingered? He had nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, if Raztara was so willing, he would join her for a soak.
“How was your day?” he asked casually, accepting a kiss on the neck even as he removed his shirt. Reds were passionate dragons.
“Tiresome,” Raztara sighed. “It is so difficult when sparring with humans. I have to watch myself carefully lest I break them.”
“Ha,” Malorian laughed. “Perhaps we’ll have to spar later.”
“Mmm, only if we find a secluded mountain. I’m feeling very pent up. I need to let loose.”
“There’s more than one way to do that,” Malorian teased.
Despite their flirtatious words, Raztara was being honest. A dragon, especially a Red dragon, could not often find a suitable sparring partner among mortals. Even at a similar level, they were simply too weak. And, should the dragon revert to their true form, too small. It would be so easy to crush them with a swipe of a limb or bite one in half. Raztara’s “training” today had left her nearly bored out of her mind. She was asked, politely of course, by some general or advisor to…”play monster,” in case the kingdom ever needed to subdue a wild dragon. All she really had to do was transform into her true form, let the soldiers and knights encircle her and call out tactics. She wanted to roll her eyes as they yelled their strategy for all to hear, but she supposed monster-spawned dragons were not as intelligent.
In truth, it took the better part of a decade for her to not be insulted when some weak-willed imbecile compared a real dragon to a spawn. She supposed, in the beginning, she had trouble picking individual humans out. They all looked identical to her. It was a tempering time.
Brione, the head maid, returned with a dozen extra hands, and within minutes, they had a large bath prepared. Raztara entered the near-boiling water and let the steam envelope her in curls as she waded deeper. It would have been hotter than boiling, but she didn’t mind taking a cool bath if it spared her servants potential risk. Various baskets of towels, soaps, and oils were placed near the basin for her convenience, and the servants quickly bowed themselves out.
Malorian was about to join her…when they heard the roar.
Raztara’s pulse quickened, her heart pounding in her chest. She shot to her feet and nearly transformed on the spot. Was this a challenge? She looked over at Malorian, excited…who obviously did not share her sentiment.
“What…was that?” He asked. His normally calm, smiling face was pulled into a frown. All the more reason for Raztara to fly out and meet this interloper, invading her domain. Did they not know Horizon was hers? She fought for this position!
“Somebody who doesn’t know what they’re getting themselves into,” Raztara replied. She got out of the tub and allowed her inner heat to vaporize the water clinging to her skin. She made sure to cool herself down enough so she wouldn’t singe her clothes…she didn’t need battle armor when she had her scales, but she liked to look good when she went out to fight.
“Raz, wait,” Malorian held out a hand. Raztara looked at it in shock. He never tried stopping her before. She’d flown out on many missions before; it’s how she earned her title. She was Raztara the Valliant, not Raztara the Coward.
“Mal,” she said, gently removing his hand. “That roar reached us inside the sanctum. We should at least find out who’s calling.”
Was it a Black? Of the different flights, they were the most arrogant. Always claiming somebody else’s treasure as their own. It wouldn't be the Blues…unless she got outside and found them flapping around the Academy. While that would be amusing, it would not pose much of a threat. Raztara could take two Blue dragons on by herself and she wouldn’t even need Malorian. He might be higher level than she was, and possibly stronger, too, but he was better suited for relocating chunks of land. Mal could shatter the earth, but let her fight.
“I…am not sure that was one of ours calling, Raz.”
“All the more reason to-”
Raztara was cut off by another roar. This time, she felt it. What Malorian must have felt. A wave of fear washed over her, which she quickly banished with a shake of her head. But in the small amount of time it affected her, Raztara’s knees shook and her hands trembled. What…was that? She no longer smiled, but looked at her husband all the same.
“I’m going to get a better look. We need to know what we’re dealing with.”
“Raz, be reasonable. We’re [Ambassadors], not fighters. Let the kingdom deal with their threats-”
“Are you a Red?” Raztara’s anger flared. “Or a Green? Are you content to let others fight for you? Shall I find you a patch of dirt to till?”
“I-...no. I suppose you are right. If there’s an unapproved dragon visiting Horizon, we should find out who they are.”
The sight that met them when they left the mansion was dire. In stark contrast to earlier in the day, when the sun shone and the world was calm, the sky was red, and faint screams rose in the distance. Smoke rose at several points on the horizon, signaling that several parts of the city were on fire. What could have caused such mayhem in the short few hours between training the kingdom’s troops and her bath? Raztara felt Malorian’s arm grip hers and he pointed to the distance.
Raztara narrowed her eyes and willed them to see farther than mortal limits. A black cloud hovered near the city walls, but as she focused harder, the object became clear. A head, a gigantic dragon’s head, loomed like a mountain before the gates. It was hard to tell in the gloom, but the shape behind it was its body, rising into the haze and shrouded in smoke. It had to be…hundreds of feet tall!
Raztara was not a small dragon, being slightly larger than her husband, even if he was several levels her senior. She was, perhaps, 30 feet? 35? Against the shining moon that was a single eye on that gigantic beast, she felt insignificant. Malorian trembled beside her.
“We should flee,” he said. The tremor in his voice sickened her, but as Raztara stared at her husband in disbelief, she realized it was not entirely his fault. They were both afflicted by a debuff, and though she was able to shake off the fear, he was not so fortunate.
[The Destroyer Approaches]
Level: ????
Rank: X
Time Remaining: —:—
Cower in fear, mortal.
Understanding dawned on Raztara, and she faltered.
The [Destroyer].
The [Destroyer].
The roar did not belong to a child clamoring for a fight, but the herald of their doom. Raztara wasn’t entirely convinced the physical representation they were seeing was a real body. Well, it was real and very obviously present before them, crushing everything in its path, but not something that was raised from clutch to whelp. Not something natural. The gods themselves may have manifested in the human lands to punish them for some misdeed.
The [Destroyer] moved with a focus so precise that Raztara felt it was moving with a very specific vindication. Somebody, somewhere, had erred and called up the wrath of the gods. And yet, the embodiment did not see fit to mindlessly rampage. Yes, part of Horizon’s wall was gone and several buildings were on fire, but the way it walked through the streets like wheels caught in a rut told her the [Destroyer] was not setting out to wipe out humankind.
Raztara took to the skies and watched as a squad of soldiers fought bravely despite their clear desire to flee. They were acting under some sort of compulsion, and yet their weapons did nothing. They didn’t even slow it down.
Raztara’s heart soared.
She was made for this, born for it. The reason she decided to become an [Ambassador] and was given the title [Valiant]. She would join the humans in their time of need!
“Raztara, no!” Malorian shouted out as he watched his wife fly straight toward the jaws of death.
“Malorion,” Raztara cried, “We must defend the city! It is our duty!”
Her husband cursed and took to the air behind her. They flew with as much speed as they could muster toward the gigantic head looming above everything. For the first time in a very long time, Raztara felt small. Reds were large and she was no exception. But as she flew up to a single eye and saw herself reflected, she felt closer to an insect.
At first, the [Destroyer] paid them no mind. It continued its slow, relentless march forward.
“Destroyer! What business do you have here?” Raztara cried out. Her yells fell on deaf ears. “Why here? Why now? What have we done to anger the gods? Sure, Horizon is not a perfect city, but what is? We’ve done nothing to deserve annihilation!”
The [Destroyer] opened its mouth and bellowed.
The roar's impact nearly forced Raztara out of the sky. Her wings strained as if flying through a hurricane, and she felt the dwindling fear surge back. But she would not go down so easily; she would not let fear master her.
“You leave me no choice! [Impale]!”
Raztara banked, hovered briefly, and swung her tail beneath her. She used her magic to empower it, strengthen it, harden it. She drove it straight into the eye of the [Destroyer].
As a level 946, Raztara had significant stats. While her class, [Ambassador], did nothing for her Strength, she still possessed over 100,000 points. Enough to combine an entire army of mortals. Her tail, strengthened by [Impale], had once pierced a sheet of pure [Khorium].
The [Destroyer] merely squinted in irritation.
“Gahhh!” it bellowed. The gigantic purple eye homed in on her and locked her in place.
“Whelp! Begone!”
Raztara tried shoving more magic into her wings than she’d ever done before. And yet, it was not enough. She could feel the heat as a fireball approached, and just before it washed over her, she marveled at how she was sweating.
Malorian watched in horror as his lifemate fell from the sky. He could tell, not only from her shallow breath but from his party screen, that she was still alive, holding on by a mere sliver. He dove, pushing past his limits as his wings screamed at him in agony, rushing to catch her. Ironically, his fear was gone. The debuff that plagued him was still active, but the love of his life was sheltering him like a bubble. It was the most foolish thing he had ever seen Raztara do. The most idiotic, the most reckless.
Possibly also the most beautiful.
He would find healers for her, and then….
Moeldywn had scarcely taken a step outside the castle when Philip did something she never expected. He used a system [Yell]. She stood, rooted to the spot, listening to the words she knew every man, woman, and child in the city could hear, even if they didn’t understand. All the while, she grew more pale, more frustrated, and more determined. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
[Soldiers! Guards! To the walls, repel the threat! Drive back the monster! Defend Horizon with your lives!]
Moeldywn cursed as she teleported directly into her chambers. She would have been worried about scaring her staff, but in this moment of crisis, she didn’t have time to dally. Besides, they were already hunkering in fear underneath the closest shelter. She saw a few maids hiding beneath her writing desk and cast a quick barrier on them regardless. It was, sadly, the most she could do in the moment.
It took her precious seconds to tear off her old clothes and scramble into her [Robes of the White Witch], but if she was about to do what she feared she needed to do, they would be essential. She might be the most powerful mortal [Mage] alive…but Meliastraza wasn’t mortal. Moeldywn had no illusions that her most powerful attacks would even tarnish a single one of the dragon’s scales, let alone slow her down, and yet she needed to act. She needed to try. She needed to reach Meliastraza before she did something she’d come to regret, like Moeldywn knew she would.
And then she would deal with Philip.
As she ported back into the castle courtyard, she found it swarming with soldiers. At first, she was shocked. Not to find them there, because Philip had ordered them. But the state in which some of them were almost literally tearing themselves apart. Some of the soldiers in the army were decently leveled, but unless a [Knight] belonged to the Royal Guard, it was unlikely they were higher than level 400. A boy, no older than 25, was gripping a spear so tightly his knuckles had gone bone white, all while snot ran in rivers down his face. His knees trembled, his arms shook, but he could not run, no matter how much he wanted to. And it was clear he wanted to…but Moeldywn knew that soldiers in the army were affected by [Conscription]. A trade-off for the class, as it received a boost to leveling and many stats when commanded by a general or a king, the downside was being forced to fight. Clearly against his will.
After all, it would not do to have soldiers abandoning their posts.
She cursed, cast several buffs on the boy, and not just him but everybody present. The yard calmed slightly as people mastered themselves and began looking around, but she was short next to soldiers and couldn’t be seen. She sighed, climbed on top of a table, and surveyed the yard. She spotted a herald bearing a standard and noticed the garrison commander looking grim and defeated.
“You there!” She called. The sea of people parted as she pointed, so the man could see her plainly. “You’re from the East Garrison! What’s happening? What news can you give?”
“I…don’t know,” he said earnestly as if in a daze. “We were rotating patrols when we got the order to man the walls, and suddenly…suddenly…this…thing…appeared.”
“The [Destroyer],” the herald said with a haunted look in his eyes. “The [Destroyer].”
“So we’re clear,” Moeldywn felt foolish for even thinking about saying it out loud, “But we're talking about a dragon, yes? A big one?”
“Big?” The commander scoffed. “You call that ‘big’? It was huge. Enormous. Behemoth. Titanic. I…don’t have words to describe it. It took up the entire sky. One moment it wasn’t there, and the next it was. Like a…gigantic moon, falling to earth. It breathed fire and rained destruction. The claws…melted through our walls like a knife through butter.”
Moedlywn swore softly.
“She is enraged, then. Commander, I commend you for your bravery and your ability to escape. I tell you, in the name of the Queen, no harm will come to you or your men. You did not abandon your post. You’ve done well.”
The man looked at her with wide eyes and nearly passed out with relief. Moeldywn shook her head and took a deep breath. Time to take back what was hers.
[Countermand! Soldiers, I command you: do not throw your lives away! Abandon the walls, they are already lost! This is a foe beyond you! Do not anger her more than you already have, and you might yet live! Regroup, to me! To me!!]
She closed her eyes. Philip would not be pleased. Sure enough, not 10 seconds passed before he replied.
[What?! White Witch, you dare! Guards, seize that woman!]
Moeldywn closed her eyes and pictured the throne room. She could practically see Philip taking a seat and adjusting his crown. With a flick of her wrist, the world warped around her as she vanished from the training grounds and appeared standing before him.
[Do not allow- ack!]
Moeldywn was not specialized in strength, but she hefted her staff, which was made of hearty wood, and brought it down upon his head with a resounding crack.
[Be silent, fool! Citizens, this is your queen. I beseech you: remain indoors! Barricade yourselves in your safe places! Do not venture into the streets! The [Destroyer] has come, but she is no threat to you! You have nothing to fear if you have not angered her! Royal Guard, heed my call! Your kingdom, no, Humanity has need of you! Rally to the northern garrison! I will see you there!]
She turned to her grandson, who was rubbing the egg forming on his head as he blinked the stars from his eyes. Moeldywn brought herself to her full height and stared down at him over the length of her nose. Her tone was dripping with regret even as her eyes filled with sadness.
“Prince Philip de Eutevor du Chandler a Hestia the IV, I pronounce you unfit to rule.”
Even as his vision came into focus and Philip opened his mouth to protest, Moeldywn raised her hand and pointed a long, pale finger at the bridge of his nose.
“Know this, Philip, that your sins are many and your errors are great. But even though you may have doomed our entire civilization, I cannot find it in myself to kill you just yet. By my hand, you should be dead…but you also live. Should the gods be merciful and take me from this realm, know that I fell fighting one of my only true friends…and may they spare your soul when she comes for you. Your fate is in their hands.”
His eyes narrowed as she shoved her finger into his face and activated a spell. First, she cast a barrier so he wouldn’t instantly freeze to death and so he could still breathe, but she encased him in a tomb of ice. His skin took on a slightly blue hue as an impenetrable prison erupted around him, a massive icicle jutting from the ground, swallowing the man, the chair, and everything within a circle 5 feet of him.
Moeldywn, as if moving through water, extracted herself from the ice and spared a glance back at the frozen king.
“Perhaps I share some blame in this,” she whispered to herself, before turning around again. It was time to confront Meliastraza. If the gods knew mercy, maybe there would be a tomorrow.
“Ugh.”
“Look, Jessica, I know it’s not pleasant, but you gotta get it out. Better out than in. You don’t want to be choking on your own blood.”
“Uggggggh.”
“That’s not helpful and you know it.”
Brandy listened to Al as he took Jessica’s mind off the fact that she’d just been stabbed. Like the true childhood friend he was, he held onto her hand and told her it was going to be okay. Brandy wanted to roll her eyes; it was so sweet.
Actually…she didn’t really know how long Jessica and Al had known each other. It was just accepted that they were old friends. For all she knew, it could have been a recent thing.
Now, Brandy was trying to keep her own mind off the fact that Jessica had just been stabbed. For some reason, healing cuts and bruises when her party went into battle with monsters was magnitudes less damaging to her mind than this. Even though the wound itself was minor in comparison to some of the stuff Al went through.
Or maybe because it was rusty iron? Was magic ineffective against iron? Something was telling Brandy that was a cliche for fairytales, but didn’t apply to this fantasy world. She’d rushed over to Jessica the moment the guards opened the cell and dragged the two apart. She managed to convince them to release her shackles after sort of cheating the system by channeling her healing through Celestara’s necklace. It didn’t work well and only produced a few golden sparks, but it was enough to make their eyes go wide as saucers. Brandy knew she’d have some explaining to do later when all this was over, because the fact that she overwrote a magic-sealing handcuff by clutching the crystal wasn’t lost on her teammates.
That is, if they survived the wrath of whatever was coming.
Jessica explained, in a fit of coughing flecked with blood, that Meliastraza was coming.
One: Brandy could have figured that out herself, thanks to the strange debuff that suddenly affected everybody except her group.
Two: Why did the [Hunter] specifically need to refer to Melia as Meliastraza? She wasn’t two people living in a single body.
Y’cennia hastily explained it was a coping mechanism. Brandy was new to the group and hadn’t seen Melia on a rampage, turning on her draconic instincts. Yes, she had seen Melia as a dragon, but the group tried to explain that Melia could be a giant, oafish dragon having fun, just as she could be a tiny gnome. That was the Melia Brandy knew and loved.
And then there was Meliastraza.
[Destroyer of Worlds].
The first time Melia lost her temper and nearly went berserk was when somebody slipped some poison into the group’s drinks at a party. Even though it was mild, determined to be a distraction, it sent Melia over the edge. Her aura leaked out, some of her skills activated, and she intimidated everybody in the abbey chapel. The group had seen her slaughter a powerful monster earlier in the day, but only after she became enraged did they understand the tiniest scope of her true might. And that was as a gnome.
The first time they had ever seen her true form, they’d been sheltered around a campfire, and the dragon had used her huge body to protect them from the cold. She had done nothing except lie silently on her side. The rest of the group woke up, took a look at her, and nearly wet themselves. They were afflicted by a fear effect, similar to what was happening now, by the sounds of it, though it also sounded like it was something that just happened in the presence of a dragon.
There was Melia, the curious little mischief maker who wouldn’t hurt a fly…and then there was Meliastraza, who devoured lake monsters and giant cows in a single bite.
There was Melia, who made sandwiches that turned adults into kids…and Meliastraza, who owned a mansion in the mountains where a goddess decided to plop down a dungeon to memorialize for all of time.
And yet, the lines blurred sometimes…like when a small gnome used the power of an Archdragon to create a leyline out of nothing. So what did that mean for Brandy’s friend?
Somewhere, inside that hulking mountain of incomprehensible power was a scared little girl who just wanted to be loved. She barely had time to learn how to use a real human body; how could she possibly cope with instincts and biological needs she didn’t understand?
And looking at her team, Brandy knew something was going on and she wasn’t in on it. That’s why she pestered everyone until they finally spilled the beans.
It turns out the bizarre title they all shared wasn’t so harmless after all.
One of the most famous bits of fantasy Brandy could point to if somebody asked her to generalize dragons was their hoard. Their treasure. Previously, the team had hashed it out with Melia, trying to figure out what exactly that meant and how she saw them. On the one hand, it was interesting to be given the title of somebody’s friend, but a bit degrading to be reduced to a possession.
Melia denied seeing them as something to own or covet, and did her best to earn their approval, but Brandy could see the frustration in her team’s eyes. Especially if something as minor as a scuffle in a jail cell set off the [Destroyer of Worlds]. Yes, getting stabbed was kind of a big deal…but compared to a world-ending dragon going on a rampage? Maybe a tad overkill.
Brandy finished healing Jessica and made sure she wasn’t puking her guts out. Healing magic was literally miraculous, but man, what this world could do with some standard medical equipment. Imaging processors alone would help tell her if any metal shards were lingering in Jessica’s belly….
The ground shook with a deep, reverberating rumble. Another roar. The dragon was getting closer, as if homing in on their exact location, and the group was wondering who they’d find when it arrived.
Would it be Melia? Meliastraza? Something else entirely?
Brandy didn’t know what nonsense brought her best friend back to life, but she knew Melia was stronger than any god from a damn video game. Maybe not physically (though right now she was giving a pretty good show of it), but certainly mentally. Spiritually? Brandy wasn’t sure what to call it, but Melia had heart. She didn’t believe for a second that if the gods had put her in Melia’s shoes, she would have cared one iota if a drinking buddy got poisoned.
Or, well, she’d be upset, yes, but even as a dragon, Brandy wouldn’t have done…this.
The stomps grew louder, and the screams died down as the area around them was evacuated. They were, for better or worse, stuck here. They weren’t trapped in the cell; they could leave at any point since the guards had left the door open when they fled. But they were busy securing Jessica and making sure she was fine before they realized…they had nowhere else to go.
Eventually, the shaking got so bad that they started worrying that the roof might collapse, but just as soon as they had that thought, the world stilled. The ground groaned, but it held. Above them, the [Destroyer] waited.
“Do…we go up?” Y’cennia fretted. She instantly regretted saying anything, realizing how stupid it sounded.
“Do you volunteer for tribute?” Ellesea asked.
“She’s got a point,” Al sighed. “If Meliastraza came all this way for us, we might only make things worse if we hide down here.”
A strange noise echoed through the cell.
“Did…you hear that?” Jessica asked. She was clutching her side and winced, but she was fine.
The sound rang out again. It sounded like…snuffling. Like a gigantic beagle was sticking its nose in a corner or under the legs of a low couch and trying to find a discarded piece of bacon.
Brandy almost laughed. She wanted to cry. This was absurd. Why did this have to be her life? Why couldn’t she be dreaming?
Before anyone else could come up with any great ideas, they heard yelling. The cell went silent as Melody’s voice rang out above them. There were layers of rock and stone above them, so they couldn’t hear her words exactly, but she seemed to be bargaining. That was good. That meant somebody was home behind the dragon’s eyes.
Or maybe it meant their favorite princess was about to become an afternoon snack?
Suddenly, the gate to their cell creaked and several people let out screams. Brandy looked at Y’cennia first, because that was one heck of a scream…before realizing the second scream came from the man on the floor. She narrowed her eyes, but then remembered that the cell door creaked and nobody was at the door! She whipped her head around and found that, where there shouldn’t have been a giant maid, was now a giant maid!
Lethia looked…okay, she looked like hell. Her dress was torn, her left sleeve was ripped off and she had blood trickling down her bicep. And yet, she held herself like a woman following instructions from a well-to-do lady.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, shocking the others. It was uncharacteristic of the [Retainers] to care much about anything except serving Meliastraza’s will. But the woman was looking at them as friends, not objects of her mistress’ desire. Her eyes held true regret, like she should have somehow anticipated this outcome and worked to prevent it.
If Lethia could have done that, she was the real [Saint].
The woman, accompanied by L’menia, carried everybody gently upstairs. They were shocked by the drastic change to the city above, but not so much as the enormous dragon’s head peering down at them.
The [Retainers] set them down gently (except the thug, who got dumped on the floor), and the snout sniffed each of them slowly and deeply. Jessica let out a long, hysterical laugh.
“Oh gods, I’m going insane!” She wheezed. “What do I do? What am I supposed to do? On one hand, I go monster hunting with this thing like some guys go pub hopping, and now I’m reminded of my neighbor’s hound!”
Brandy felt herself grin, though her pained smile made it more of a grimace. At least she wasn’t the only one to have that thought.
“By the dead gods!” The man on the floor gasped. It was the wrong decision. The dragon’s snout snapped toward him, creating an audible whoosh as simply moving it created a mini-whirlwind. The entire group froze. This was it. Who was this dragon?
Was it the kindly gnome? The friend, the partner?
Or was it something…feral? Wild? Uncontrollable?
The dragon’s mouth opened. Brandy closed her eyes. Not because she was afraid to watch a criminal who stabbed her party member get eaten, but because it was her best friend who was about to do it.
Fire didn’t come.
Brandy opened her eyes.
The jaws went wider.
Noise came out, and everyone was temporarily deafened.
“OH GODS, OH GODS, OH GODS….”
The man on the floor was squirming in place, but he couldn’t move. Meliastraza’s mouth was so close that he could have reached up a hand and touched a fang. Brandy could see all sorts of liquid spilling all over the miserable wretch, from sweat, to dragon drool, to piss, to something very brown.
“He just shit himself,” Jessica said, as if she couldn’t believe this was real.
The dragon roared again. The man screamed, but his cries were drowned out by the torrent of noise. It was obvious the man had lost all control of his body. His head fell back against the stone as his limbs went limp, liquid pouring from every possible orifice.
“We need to stop this,” Brandy heard her say.
“You were the one he stabbed,” she said. “Are you sure you want to let him get away?”
“He’s not going anywhere. Besides, if the dragon roars again, he might shit himself to death.”
Meliastraza huffed, snuffled, and blew hot air…but she didn’t eat the guy. Brandy heard Melody cry out, and she saw the woman geared for war. A spectacular spell was rotating behind her head, and she could feel the power from where she sat…despite the giant dragon in the yard.
“Eluna,” Jessica asked, surprising Brandy. She was used to the new name now; what got her was how calm the [Hunter] sounded.
“Yeah?” She replied. Strangely, she was calm, too. Much calmer than she felt. Though honestly, she didn’t feel much other than exhausted right now. This was a very, very long day.
“Where do we go from here?” Jessica asked.
The girl made a vague, general motion that seemed to indicate, well, everything. The group, herself, the delirious man on the ground, the dragon. Everything. Even as they surveyed the bizarre scene, the dragon’s claw approached. And yet, nobody in [Sunrise] cared. They knew it wouldn’t hurt them. A shimmering purple bubble formed around them with a pwop, and they found themselves being gently lifted up, cradled to a draconic chest.
“Honestly, I have no idea,” she said, “But we’ll figure it out tomorrow.
Author's Note:
I wanted to say a very huge thank you to everyone who gave your thoughts on the previous chapter. Really, thank you all so, so much. I'm an anxious person, and things like this make me a wreck. The people who commented were very generous and kind, and I hope I'm continuing to make a story you all enjoy. I know that not everybody cared for the last chapter, and I'm sorry. I know it's not possible to please everybody, and it's silly to try, but sometimes we can't change who we are. In particular, I want to apologize to Riivelta on discord, even if it doesn't make any sense and is silly in the end, but they've been supporting me since the very beginning. I think things will get better from here, so I hope you find this more satisfactory.
That being said, this is a long chapter. Since it's multiple POVs from the same time frame, there's probably some things that got repeated and I'm sure it could have been shortened down. I tried to mix in a little humor where appropriate and tried to be serious where it wasn't. I'm sure that some responses and dialogues won't seem natural to some people or believable to others.
Let me know what you think, any complaints or suggestions or concerns. Thank you so much for supporting me on my writing journey and taking the time to read my story. Have a wonderful day!