Lucifer felt herself burst into flames. The feeling of having her channels ripped to shreds by the flowing mixture of heat and force was painful for a moment, but the moment mana rushed through her body and reestablished the channels was utter bliss. It washed through her body like a raging river, invigorating her flesh. Unlike before, it washed through her bones, not into the marrow but the bones themselves. Lucifer could feel them straining under the force of raw kinetic energy and heat, yet the moment mana rushed through them, they began to bend instead of creak under the strain.
Similar to her “awakening”, mana rushed through her body, this time feeling only like a relaxing massage. Slowly but surely, new channels were being constructed inside her body, as mana rushed forth from her soul. Lucifer watched with fascination, until the network of channels was almost complete.
Similar to her blood vessels, the network of channels snaked through her body, branching into individual muscles and coming together in larger arteries. Unlike her cardiovascular system, these channels flowed towards her abdomen instead of her heart.
She observed the channels slowly carving their way through her extremities, approaching the metaphysical core she had constructed to contain the heat and light she absorbed.
As the first of the channels connected to her core, mana began to trickle in. At first little happened, only when the last of the channels was completely connected did the floodgates open. Instantly, veritable torrents of mana flooded into the space her core occupied.
Before, Lucifer had visualized her core as a miniature sun, but without the mass. Now the moment mana began flooding into her core, it felt like the real deal. In a process similar to a chemical reaction, the mana caused the gathered mass of light and heat to suddenly have mass. And with mass, came problems.
Lucifer could feel her core destabilizing.
Acting more on instinct than conscious thought, Lucifer gripped the gathered heat with her mind. She had manipulated fire in similar ways for millions of years and the action came as naturally as breathing.
With her will firmly clamped around the mass of incredible heat in her abdomen, she continued to watch as more and more mana flooded into her core. And with every moment the fires grew hotter and more unruly.
Lucifer struggled to contain the boiling amalgam of mana in her body. She remembered a time when she had tried to stop a star from going supernova, threatening her favorite uninhabited planet. This felt eerily similar.
With the memory of her favorite planet, came the memories of her old universe. Those she wanted and those she did not. Like floodgates being opened, memories she had repressed during her time in the void.
Lucifer started to sweat, which she did not know was possible. Trying to keep her core together through pure fire manipulation was difficult on its own. To be distracted during such a critical moment by things she had procrastinated on? That was an entirely different beast.
Just once, Lucifer opened her eyes to look at her surroundings, seeing the dragon with its head on its front legs, seemingly asleep.
As the dragon would likely not be any help, she dove back into meditation to keep her core in check.
Lucifer had an unfounded feeling, that if she just pressed hard enough, the core in her body would become stable. Similar to a real sun and its gravity. She continued to struggle, until she was momentarily distracted by a memory she had thought she had worked through.
In her mind's eye, she stood before dear beautiful Lilith, bloodied and beaten while Adam stood smugly on the side.
The moment the memory played through her mind, the entirety of her control slipped, causing the core in her abdomen to explode outwards, shooting a mixture of fire and kinetic energy through her channels and into the outside world.
Dimly, Lucifer could feel the ground beneath her start to boil and her ass to sink into the molten stone, as the heat grew by magnitudes. Had she been aware enough, she would have noticed the dragon shielding herself from the explosion of heat, as Lucifer's fires strained even her fire resistance.
With the memory of Lilith came a wave of mental anguish that Lucifer was long accustomed to. But even though she knew that the feeling of helplessness would come, it did not mean that she knew how to handle it.
After incinerating Liliths body, Lucifer had been in a state of dissociation for hundreds of years. Until she eventually cut the link between her and her father. During those few hundred years, she had searched for Lilith's soul wherever she could. Through the mortal world, looking for her reincarnation. Through hell, to see if her father would punish her for eternity. But she never found her.
As the feeling of helplessness grew, so did her core destabilöize more and more. Mana continued to flood inwards from her soul, but the burning ball of heat grew more and more dim. Instead of its usual bright yellow color, it darkened until it became a deep dark red.
Then another memory came.
This time she stood before the throne of heaven, watching as her fathers fleshly body burnt into nothingness and his soul ignited. Heaven in flames around her.
At the time Lucifer had been almost completely numb. Not quite dissociative, but not entirely there as well. With her recollection came a burning hatred.
Not directed at either her father, or the mortals that worshiped him. But the entire situation itself. Fate playing with her and the lives she cared about.
And with undirected anger, came mental power.
With a silent scream, Lucifer gathered the heat in her core in a vice-like grip, using her anger as fuel. Then with her core momentarily stable, she gripped the heat that had escaped into her body, funneling it back into her core.
Lastly, with the final bit of willpower, she grabbed the heat she had expelled, and absorbed it back into her core, not as heat, but as kinetic energy.
For a moment, nothing happened, the core in her abdomen spinning lazily in place, and then in an instant, it became real.
Where before it had been but a mental image to represent the happenings of her body, now a literal star made of mana, kinetic energy and heat floated in a space between Lucifer's soul and her body. Connected to both her body and soul through channels of pure heat and energy.
Lucifer opened her eyes, to the feeling of something changing in her status, but she had not the mental energy to care.
As tears began to stream down her face, she looked at the dragon, whose eyes had opened and said “I need a therapist” Before bursting into uncontrollable sobbing.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
—---------------------
Aindaeth watched the angel sit cross legged before her. She could feel the fluctuations of mana rush through the area, as more and more mana was being released.
After the angel had started with choosing her path, she had sat there unmoving for quite a while, until she suddenly started loosing control. Aindaeth knew the feeling.
Whenever one was at a significant milestone in their cultivation, whether they knew or not, the mind would try to work through unresolved trauma. The dragon dream told her that it had something to do with the inherent properties of mana , and the way a being would instinctively better themselves while in the process of breaking through.
For most mortal races, this process changed only their bodies, erasing perceived flaws and disabilities. But for the immortal races, it came with significant emotional distress.
Aindaeth watched as the angel finished her breakthrough, feeling her considerable willpower flood the area and absorb a, to her, unknown energy. Then it was over.
Then she felt something that was worthy of both celebration and mourning. An unseen, but felt ripple flowed outwards from the angel, disturbing neither the physical world, nor the ambient mana.
Looking closely, Aindaeth could see moisture gathering at the edges of the angel's eyes, slowly forming into a tear.
The moment the tear was released, and started its downward descent, another ripple flowed through the ether, as another tear began building.
Aindaeth was momentarily speechless. Angels seldom shed tears, and when they did it was both a cause worthy of celebration, as angel tears are an incredibly sought after magical item, and a time of great mourning, as whenever an angel cried, it could be felt thousands of kilometers away.
A question was building in Aindaeths mind, when another ripple flowed outwards. And then another. And another. And then two more. And the trembling grew into a metaphorical earthquake across the ether as the angel began to sob.
Aindaeth watched in fascination as the world trembled under the incredible grief flowing out from the angel.
Feeling shame for a moment, Aindaeth managed to squeeze out a question.
“May I partake?”
Her voice rumbled out, softer than it had in ages and the angel stilled. Though the trembling across the ether did not.
“Um what?”
“Your tears. May I partake ?” Aindaeth clarified.
She watched a look of confusion wash across the angels face for a moment, before a hesitant answer came between sniffles.
“Sure, i don't see why not”
—---------------------------
Lucifer was at the edge of a mental breakdown and her tears were not stopping. Momentary relief about her core was overcome by the endless waves of despair washing through her. Anger had momentarily helped, but as it so often does, it burnt out quite rapidly.
Then came the question from the dragon. No-one had ever asked to partake of her tears before. Yet, the way in which the dragon asked the question had an undeniably ritualistic nature. And despite her reluctance, she knew that her soul was too powerful to be overpowered in a ritual. The dragon had also yet to show any signs of hostility that could not be explained by her unintentionally intruding into its lair.
Seemingly before she could decide to rescind her answer, a two meter long forked tongue shot from the dragon's mouth, slopping over her face.
To stunned to speak, Lucifer froze as the dragon lapped at her face, with a tongue that would have scorched the face of an ordinary human. A moment later the tongue retreated, leaving behind scorching hot spit, that boiled into vapor in moments. Finally Lucifer managed to squeak out a quiet "what the fuck?"
Incredulous, Lucifer looked at the dragon that was now quietly heaving for breath.
—-------------------
Aindaeth was not prepared.
The moment she had felt the tears come into being, she had felt a burning need. Angel tears were stuff of legend and she had been prepared to offer eternal servitude for just one of the shed tears.
Just one would be enough to allow her to break past the barrier that was the entry into the ninth tear. One would be enough to grow her soul by leaps and bounds. That would have been the case for a tear from an ordinary angel.
The moment the angel had given her consent, draconic greed had overtaken her mind and she had ingested all of them.
As her tongue entered back between her jaws, and the latent magic of the angel tears entered her body, she was overwhelmed with grief and despair.
Logically she knew that experiencing the emotions that caused the tears were part of the deal, but again, she had overestimated herself.
Thousands of years of repressed anguish were crystallized in these drops of salty liquid, closely followed by an incredible wrath.
Not prepared for the intensity of the emotions, the amount of time these emotions had had time to bottle up, and the incredible potency of the tears, caused her mind to get overwhelmed.
While Aindaeth felt her soul grow leaps and bounds due to the influx of perceived emotions, her conscious mind could do nothing but scream out in despair.
She felt the incredible love for a mortal. The shock of having to kill her at the orders of someone else. The wrath, directed at a father she never had. The depression at being unable to find her soul. The katharsis of finally slaying her oppressor. The incredible loneliness of the endless void of space.
And the feeling of finally being free.
—-----------------
Lucifer watched the dragon go from heaving sobs to a low rumbling groan.
Until, after a few moments, the majestic red dragon, with what seemed to be tears in it's eyes, raised it's head and let out an incredible roar.
It was like the roar of a lion and a tiger, full of majesty and authority. But slowly, over a few seconds the roar morphed into a keening whine, full of sorrow and despair.
At that moment Lucifer understood what she had agreed to. The act of "partaking" in her tears had allowed the dragon to feel what she had felt.
A warm feeling rose from inside her core. Not one of mystical heat or of mana washing through her body, but one of understanding.
To be finally understood.
It felt good to have someone understand her emotions, even if she never wished for someone else to feel the same grief, it felt relieving.
She felt it in her soul, the moment she acknowledged the feeling. A bond connected her to the dragon. In a way it was similar to the one she had shared with her father.
A mystical cord connected their souls together. But where the bond with her father had been one-sided, only allowing her to feel his wrath, this one was a connection.
While the dragon was still keening, Lucifer followed the connection towards the bonded soul, only to recoil in horror.
The soul which was now linked to her was beautiful. An amalgam of burning orange flames, the blue of the sky and the blood of her scales. It would have been a beautiful sight, if not for the chains of sickly yellow light shackling the soul into the mountain.
The chains were wrapped around the soul and fastened to it with hooks, which pierced their sickly yellow into the beautiful tapestry. The ends were anchored deep into the ground, and to the outside, seemingly phasing into the bedrock.
At the sight of the familiar sickly yellow hue, a burning righteous fury reignited in her chest. A feeling Lucifer had thought now lost to her.
Her temper had always been a driving force for her actions, but it often burned out quickly, leaving nothing but impotent rage. With her father and the souls of his fanatical religion, her anger had been limitless. Never diminishing, never growing cold.
A familiar feeling came over Lucifer as an impulsive plan came to her. While fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, she slowly stood up. Cooing softly, she approached the dragon.
"Hey. I know. And you know too. Our experiences aren't the same. But I know."
Hearing her words, Aindaeth lowered her head, looking down to the approaching angel.
As the dragon's throat released another keening whine, Lucifer approached the lowered head, and hugged the dragon's muzzle.
Crying, she told the her "It's okay. I'm going to make the pain go away."
—---------------------
Aindaeths mind still reeled from the intense emotions. She had long ago given up hope of ever escaping this cursed mountain.
She had begun giving away pieces of her soul to the local kobold tribe in hopes of alleviating the pain her shackled soul caused.
An old feeling, one she had long given up on, rose in her chest, causing her to whine into the angel's hug. She yearned for freedom. She was an ancient crimson dragon, and she had not flown through the skies in thousands of years.
As the angel's tears caused her soul to grow, so did the chains of the gods try to constrict it. She had hoped that the angel's tears were powerful enough to shatter her shackles, but by the pain she was feeling, the gods we're winning. The burgeoning feeling of hope was being slowly squeezed out by the feeling of oncoming despair.
Yet, before she could fall into that same despair, she heard the angel speak.
"I'm going to help you okay? Not because I want something from you, but because I would have given everything for someone to help me when I was in your situation."
Uncomprehending, Aindaeth watched as the angel let go of her head, ending the hug and stepping back.
Then the angel began to "unfold" like she had before. Only this time, her mind did not shut off. Instead of terror at the incomprehensible sight, she felt a strangely soothing feeling flow through her.
As the angel unfolded into a mass of wings and eyes, she kept a vaguely humanoid form. Only when her head opened into a flower bud, encircling a white flame, did a faint headache start to form.
In that moment, Aindaeth felt the connection between their souls. The conduit that she had initially formed, in hopes of guilting the angel into helping her later. Now she felt it's nature. Through the conduit came the feeling of reassurance, only faintly masking an incredible burning anger.
The angel, finished with her transformation, took another step back and held out her right hand. All over her reality defying body, dozens of mouths opened up, speaking as one.
"As the first dawn. As the guiding light. As the burning hope. As my name is the lightbringer. On my true name as S̴̻͐̈́̿͗a̶̰̱̩̅̃m̷̫̓̚ͅa̸̯͚̱̭̿̔ė̵̩̼̈͒͆ḷ̴̘͗, I call you in my time of need!"
As the angel began chanting through dozens of mouths, a tiny white flame began to dance in her palm. It moved to an unseen wind, flickering in time with her words.
The flame grew longer and longer, until it took the shape of a curved, single edged sword.
Seemingly following a pattern, Aindaeth could feel the fire mana be sucked into the manifestation of the sword from farther than her senses could reach.
Primal terror threatened to overwhelm her at the sight of the sword, only kept at bay by the reassurance she felt over their newly formed bond.
With a final utterance of "Dawnbringer" the manifestation settled into reality.
Aindaeth was transfixed on the sword and the way the air shimmered around it with barely contained heat.
She watched as the angel took a seemingly well practiced stance, lowering her center of gravity, set her feet and gripped the sword with both hands.
Slowly she raised it high into the air, while the mouths all over the angel's body began to chant in a language that Aindaeth could not understand.
She was frozen on the spot, not daring to move a muscle as the angel stood still, her eyes closing one by one, until only two eyes were left.
As the mouths continued their chants, the last pair of eyes slowly began to loose focus, and slowly close as well.
Aindaeth was out of breath, but she dared not inhale, at the feeling of incomprehensible violence washed outwards from the sword.
Then, in one timeless instant, the mouths, though chanting in different languages, all arrived at the same word.
"Sever"
And then, before Aindaeth could comprehend that it was already over, the sword disappeared into thin air.