Ep 115. Long Time No See. (4)
For a while, Serenis continued to listen to Karas’ rather unremarkable tale.
In retrospect, it was an obvious story.
Having led a life of the weak with countless hunters after his life.
Eventually meeting someone that he could not overcome.
And choosing to follow them over continuing their miserable life.
‘…That’s right. It’s an obvious tale.’
As a monster rose in fame, they were bound to attract increasingly skilled hunters. Had Karas not joined the empire, a particularly skilled hunter would doubtlessly have succeeded in claiming his life.
In the feathered monster’s perspective, the empire was but a means of survival, the emperor his savior.
‘But, more importantly…’
The dragonlord’s worried gaze soon fell upon the youngling at her side.
“Raizel. Were you…aware?”
“? About what?”
“That Karas was a member of the empire.”
“Sure I did. He’s the one that tore off my wings.”
“…Huh?”
Serenis felt as if something had struck her in the head.
A long silence had to pass before she could process the youngling’s words.
And when she returned to her senses, Serenis’ worries were practically flooding her mind.
Though, Raizel wasn’t too fond of all the worried stare she was receiving.
“Blegh…why’re you looking at me like that?”
“I…I’m sorry, child. I didn’t…realize…”
No matter how hard she tried, Serenis couldn’t help her voice from shaking.
But as she pondered whether she should kill Karas right then and there, Raizel gently put her hand over the dragonlord’s trembling shoulder.
“Calm down. I got back at him already. I could care less now.”
Raizel threw Karas a brief glance. And, as expected, the steel dragon couldn’t feel anything in particular.
Once upon a time, merely thinking about the crow monster had made her want to tear him apart. She was sad, frustrated, and never doubted for a moment that he deserved to die for what he’d done to her.
But the professor standing before her was no longer the monster that had wreaked havoc upon her life.
Someone else had already taken that monster away from him.
After calming the dragonlord, Raizel returned her attention to Karas.
“Why’d you split ways with the emperor anyways?”
“…?”
Hearing an oddly normal question from the steel dragon, Karas initially wore a heavy frown. There was no way Raizel would ask such a sensible question to him; he thought he was hearing things.
But when he soon realized he’d indeed heard what he’d heard, the professor cautiously began his answer.
“Why, you ask…I suppose it was due to our wants following Caldon’s reclamation. While I wished to put a stop to Akeia’s conquest, Lavnore wished for it to continue. With the empire divided into factions, Akeia lost the following war against the union, and…during the empire’s collapse, I naturally returned to Mire.”
“…”
Raizel nodded her head with a dazed expression.
She had no clue what Karas was saying. But she had so little clue that, instead of asking for clarification, she merely took it as is and decided to go with it.
Unfortunately for her, the dragonlord wished for clarification.
“…Could you explain that further? Union? Caldon? Wasn’t Caldon a desert to the east?”
“…”
Karas awkwardly cleared his throat, facing the dragonlord as he answered.
“Serenis. What I’m about to tell you is a piece of history no book dares to carry. Be sure to never speak of it to others – ESPECIALLY not to Patrick or the other enforcers.”
“…Alright.”
After a brief sigh, Karas began to tell his story.
“It’s as you’ve said: Caldon is presently a giant desert to the east. But one century ago, Caldon was Wayla’s largest and most powerful kingdom. At the same time, Caldon was an obstacle for the east’s elves that sought to make Wayla their own – and the country ultimately fell victim to an elven ploy that led to the death of its God-king, its monarchy being replaced by elven rule.”
“…I…see. But how does this concern the emperor?”
“Lavnore is a Caldonian. Or, was, rather.”
“…Oh.”
“Being a Caldonian himself, Lavnore sought audience with rulers of neighbouring nations to seek help in reclaiming his country – but when his efforts proved fruitless, he turned to amassing military power on his own. He wished to drive out the elven influence, even at the cost of waging war against his own country; this was the birth of Akeia, and it was around this period that I joined the empire’s ranks.”
“So…the empire’s sole purpose was…to retake Caldon from the elves?”
“Precisely. And once Lavnore resorted to violence, Akeia saw rapid growth. The empire absorbed the north’s smaller nations with ease, and, as you know, Lavnore himself absorbed the dragonkin’s strengths.”
“…Right.”
“Deeming Akeia’s power sufficient, Lavnore then proceeded to challenge Caldon’s elves directly. And by challenge, I mean…the empire invaded Caldon Kingdom.”
Karas shook his head. A sarcastic chuckle escaped the professor.
“A single week was all it took for Lavnore to conquer Wayla’s superpower. However, the elves poisoned Caldon’s lands during their war efforts. The land’s contamination spread uncontrollably, warping the kingdom to the desert it is today…and marking an end to Caldon’s long history.”
“…”
“Caldon’s fall brought about great change throughout the continent. The countries that had once refused Lavnore grew weary of his influence, and before long, banded together to form a union under Archmage Astinel. Conversely, Akeia had grown far too large, and began to divide itself into factions – notably, there were those like me who wished to terminate the empire’s conquest, and those like Lavnore who wished to continue their campaigns. But even its divided state, the empire still entered war against the union, and…was ultimately defeated. This marks the end of what we commonly refer to as the Empire Age.”
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Raizel, who’d listened about halfway until giving up, rolled her eyes as Karas’ story finally came to an end.
“Blah blah, whatever. Long story short, you got greedy, ate too much, and your stomach exploded when someone poked it.”
“…That’s…quite on point, actually.”
After Raizel’s question was answered, Serenis quickly followed up with her own.
“If you joined the empire’s rank so early…then you must know of the emperor’s strengths far better than others. Could you speak of him further?”
“…”
Karas briefly scanned the palace interior, contemplating on his answer.
Although it wasn’t the same structure, the construction was unmistakably similar. Its decorations and layout were practically the same.
“I was told that Lavnore passed away during his clash against the union…but judging from your question, Serenis, I’m guessing he’s still alive.”
“…He is. And I plan to put an end to his acts for good.”
“What of me then? Should you not put me to the stake as well?”
“…”
Serenis silently turned to face the youngling beside her.
And, after watching the steel dragon quizzically shrug back at her, turned back to face Karas with a light smile.
“You already regret your actions, do you not?”
“…I beg your pardon?”
“Having killed those you needn’t kill…having warred against our kin. As far as I can tell, you already regret what you’ve done.”
“…I’m not sure if I’m worthy of having regrets.”
“You are. And because you have those regrets – because you’ve repented – one of our children have already forgiven you.”
As soon as Serenis finished her sentence, Raizel’s expression contorted beyond words.
“I did not FORGIVE him!! I already took some revenge, and…and he was a dumbass that did whatever that scum emperor said, so I just let it slide at that!”
“Pray tell, what else would you call that, if not granting forgiveness?”
“…”
Watching the snickering dragonlord and the pouting steel dragon, Karas lost himself in thought.
Once, he’d regretted letting Raizel live.
Once, he’d thought that the emperor could’ve been right all along. That perhaps things would’ve been better off had he chosen to kill her when she was a hatchling.
But now, looking back…
Saving her seemed to have been the correct decision after all.
“Now, now…Lavnore’s survival is not exactly delightful news to me, either. So…”
After clearing his throat to regain the dragons’ attention, the professor continued in a more serious tone.
“I suppose it’s time to tell you…why Lavnore is considered the worst mage to ever be born.”
✧ ✧ ✧
With every strike, a burst of fire followed suit to melt the earth beneath them.
Upon every slash, an even worse heat would push him away.
But the revealed face underneath the incinerated hood was nonetheless peaceful.
‘Starfire, as they would put it…’
A normal person would’ve been reduced to cinders thousands of times by now. Even for a transcendental figure, this heat wasn’t something he could last very long in.
For the figure before him wasn’t a mere transcendental figure. That wasn’t even a human to begin with.
“…I pity you, Aymeia.”
When he struck out his sword once more, its blade glowed in a blinding white light.
And when his weapon next struck the mass of fire, the flames dissipated thin like broken glass.
In the midst of dancing embers, the kneeling star deity’s figure once again came to view.
“Though I do not know what brought you forth…I suppose this will be your last walk outside, Aymeia. Or rather…”
The glowing blade slashed the air once more, straight towards the star deity’s head.
With heaving breaths, Aymeia jerked her body to the side. But she couldn’t avoid the strike completely, the weapon digging deep into her shoulder.
Though she grasped the blade with what strength she had left, the blade mercilessly dug deeper towards her heart.
“…Dragonlord.”
Splitting flesh and bone, the weapon then began to sink into her heart – until it eventually reached the surface of her shard.
Aymeia’s grip began to loosen around the blade buried within her.
‘Dragon…lord…’
Once, she’d been referred as such.
…Or did she? Was she referred to as such?
‘What exactly was I called…?’
A disordered array of memories threw the deity’s conscious into a chaotic mess. The pain of her memories was so great that she was starting to forget about the weapon sinking into her.
Aymeia was her name. That much, she knew.
But at the same time, she possessed memories of being called by another name.
Even as her heartbeat diminished, her memories continued to plague her.
- ‘I’m sorry, [?????]. I’m afraid I must entrust this burden to you…’
Blurred memories became clearer and clearer. The faces she’d long forgotten slowly began to return.
She’d watched them leave from afar.
She’d been sad. Disappointed. Resentful, even.
Not towards those who burdened her, but towards the self that failed to stop the others from leaving.
She’d left them to leave, knowing they’d die.
She’d remained silent, knowing she’d be left alone. For that was the last burden they’d ever entrusted to her.
To take care after the remaining children. They’d entrusted the future to her.
They were…
They…
…
‘Who…were they?’
She couldn’t remember. It was someone important, but she couldn’t remember their name.
She’d hidden herself within the ice, striving to preserve their legacy within.
It was all…
…
‘…What was I doing?’
Whose legacy?
What legacy?
Before Aymeia could finish her disorganized thoughts, her assailant jerked his blade out of her body, catching the bloody white shard that spilt out of her.
“Struggle as you may, this is the limit of those dependent on their divinity.”
Aymeia gripped at her aching chest. Her limp body collapsed onto the pool of blood before her.
‘…The heart…’
In her distant memories, she’d found the blue orb in a sea of blood.
It was more brilliant than any object could ever be.
And its brilliance had saddened her beyond words.
She’d held onto the orb’s former owner, crying for days on end until she’d return to her senses.
She’d burned their body in her flames, determined to carry what they’d entrusted her.
She’d finally become the lord she’d wished for. And yet…
‘…Did I regret it?’
I wanted you to see me.
I wanted you to approve of me. I never wished for you to die.
If I’d known that that’s what it would take to become the kin’s lord,
Then I never would’ve wanted it.
✧ ✧ ✧
After confirming the divinity shard in his hand, the man briskly turned away from the dying deity. With slow steps, he began to return to the keep.
His biggest obstacle had been removed.
Now, he just needed to destroy this shard through the emperor. Eliminating the remaining demons would be a trivial task afterwards.
“Rather disappointing for such a feared divinity. All that’s left is to-“
He didn’t make it very far.
He instinctively came to a stop, his body paralyzed in inexplicable fear.
His body grew as tense as it possibly could – in response to the heat radiating from behind him.
‘…How? That’s impossible. Her divinity’s been removed.’
When he slowly turned back around, his nemesis was once again standing on her feet.
Gripping her torn body, Aymeia stared back at him with lightless eyes.
Even though she’d bled enough to die on the spot, the star deity refused to stay down. As if her wounds didn’t cause any damage whatsoever.
And shrouding her once more were streaks of orange flames, burning even brighter than they had before.
“…Give it…back.”
‘…Did I always use fire?’
She had. Though she couldn’t exactly remember when she’d began to…
No. In fact, she always had.
Her flames had been the only magic she knew how to wield. Ever since she was born.
But because her magic was so lacking in comparison to her mother’s, she’d despaired time and again. She’d despised herself for not having the strength to protect those she’d been entrusted with.
‘…That’s right. It was mother’s…’
Another blurred memory cleared itself within her.
With a recollection of her mother’s voice, the flames shrouding the deity began to regain their former glow.
None of these memories belonged to her. But they were her memories just the same.
“…Dragonlord. I was their lord...”
The only kin to inherit the first lord’s legacy.
A dragon that was entrusted with the kin’s future, and a dragon that died to preserve what had been entrusted.
‘Did I…die?’
It didn’t matter.
As a dragon of the valley, she merely needed to fulfill her duty.
And it began with reclaiming the shard that was stolen from her.
“…Give it back. That’s not something for you to toy with.”
✧ ✧ ✧
“Haha, wow! She’s really going at it.”
Watching from afar, Felicir let out another bout of laughter at Aymeia’s unseemly revival. Though, it struck him odd to continue calling her Aymeia like this.
“You needed the human to die to take over, did you? That’s too bad, though…I hate to break it to you, but that shard is not your mother’s heart.”
‘In fact, your mother has your mother’s heart. I’d know.’
Divinity of stars: the most problematic of all twelve shards throughout. Unlike the others, this particular divinity had posed a serious problem in the past.
The human body couldn’t house it.
A human that would take the divinity of stars never lasted more than a week. A flood of starlight would explode out of their bodies, disintegrating them whole without a trace.
After dozens died in the same manner, Felicir had frantically sought for a solution. He could neither throw it away, nor destroy it – but he was successful in finding a solution towards the end.
‘If the human body can’t house it, then we just need a non-human body to house it.’
But as someone who sought to build a world ruled by humans, enlisting a demon as the divinity’s holder was not an option for Felicir.
And so, he’d begun experimenting on creating a third option.
The Reaper had mixed countless subjects with the dragonkin’s blood – and he’d thrown out most of them. Sacrifices numbered in the thousands before he came upon a successful specimen.
The only subject to prevail against the odds, preserving their integrity despite the dragonlord’s blood within them.
The girl that would house the divinity of stars with ease, leading a quiet life with her given name ‘Aymeia.’
‘It would’ve been nicer if she was a little less insane.’
Although she eventually came to be called the deity of stars, Aymeia had hardly done anything deity-like.
Instead, the girl behaved more and more similar to the dragonlord during his life. She eventually trapped herself into a frozen cavern just like he had, never to come out again of her own accord.
Felicir had reminded Aymeia on numerous occasions. Of whose memories it was that plagued her, of the life she could lead outside of her frozen cavern. Of the illusory duty that she burdened herself with.
But no matter how often he’d remind her, the deity of stars would soon forget what she was told.
She’d always return to her frozen cavern to spend her days in silence, waiting for a fateful encounter.