"Real generosity towards the future lies in giving all to the present."
― Albert Camus, Notebooks 1935-1942
“If you’re quite finished, the rest of us would like to get something to eat,” The dragon goddess lay on her back, toes pointed to the sky. “You’ve been eyeing that core for a while now.”
The orb in question pivoted under Ven’s gaze, rested on his palm like a top. It was different from the others he’d seen, coated in unusual runes.
“These scripts don’t make any sense…” Ven tossed the core like a juggler and sat back from the table. “Their construction makes them destined to fail, yet they work.”
“The cores of the faithful are connected to their god,” Cain’s face darkened. “If you displease them, they can rip away those runes and cripple you.”
“Well, they’re garbage,” Ven tossed Hercules’ final remains into his mouth. “Just like all the other runes I’ve seen…”
“What’s that supposed to mean!” Cain slapped the back of his head. “My knowledge comes from one of the strongest True Gods. His very existence is linked to the world runes, who are you to call his work garbage?”
“I’m just saying…” Ven shrugged. “All the runes I’ve seen have looked off, like they’re built on the wrong foundation.”
“Ungrateful, unfilial apprentice,” Cain raised his hands, head tilted back in exasperation. “You’d better prove those words when we next try to recreate YOUR rune!”
“Yeah, yeah…” Ven waved him away, focused on a bank of mist, a few metres away. “We have company…”
“Ven!”
Lyra charged from the fog, followed by a swarm of ants. Each stood almost as tall as a man, bulky armoured shells thicker than steel plates. The head of an army, the wolf-kin bounded up to Ven’s face.
“Someone killed Master Arthur,” Lyra’s eyes held a tinge of red. “We want to get stronger so we can avenge him!”
“The colony has devoted our strongest warriors to the task,” Speaker Ant edged from between the crowd, a dog in a pack of wolves. “We hope to learn how to harness the energies of cultivation and join Lyra on her quest.”
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“Rafe died as well…” Ven rubbed his face. “Is Mara alright?”
“I forced a promise from her,” Aangor limped over, hands still unhealed. “She is within the guild, standing guard over the city's population.”
“Good.” Tension left Ven’s shoulders in a wave. “What about Brull?”
“I’m right here!”
The fog trembled, a small storm cloud that faded away. Brull stood in its place, hand rested on the hilt of a simple, steel sword. Armour covered his body, copper toned in the daylight glare. Ven squinted. The material of the armour itched at his eyes.
“What the hell happened…” Brull’s sombre face flinched as he took in the ruined city. “Who would dare attack the capital like this?”
“Fools, that’s who,” The King shambled over, clothes tattered to rags. “But we’ll need to be ready, this won’t…”
The words stuck in the King’s throat as he took in the group behind Ven. The Dragon God had bent down, nose stuck in a flower that had avoided the carnage. His huge body trembled, eyes widened. Tears pushed their way free like rain as he fell to his knees.
“MOTHER, YOU’RE ALIVE!” He scrambled forward, his face pressed into the hem of the goddess’ dress. “It’s been awful without you, the house we built is destroyed!”
“Oh…” The Dragon God squinted at the King. “I remember you, I think?”
She tapped a finger to her chin, eyes unfocused. Silence reigned, besides a stiff, bitter wind. The King fell back, crumpled to the ground by her casual words.
“You think…” Tears became a river as he reached out a hand. “I’m your son, remember, you made me promise to take care this kingdom and its people…”
“Of course…” The Dragon God patted his head, a bemused smile on her face. “I definitely remember now.”
“LIAR!” THe King wailed. “What was the point of it all… thousands of years…”
“It’s ok, it seems like it was a nice kingdom, before it got all smashed and pulverised,” The Goddess shrugged. “To be honest, all I really remember is leaving descendants behind, but you seem like a nice guy!”
The King wailed, left in a heap as the Goddess returned to her flower. Ven held his sides, the King's misery a welcome relief from the sadness of the day’s events. Even Lyra cracked a half-smile, while Speaker watched with his endless curiosity. A cry called his attention to the east, a familiar group, hands raised in greeting.
“Husband!”
“Ven, Aangor, what the hell happened out here?” Mara led the charge, ahead of Ven’s obsessed dragon-kin. “The whole city is gone!”
“YOU STUPID FISH!” Kalina blasted into Ven’s face. “Why won't you come and play with me, it’s been more than a year since we did anything together!”
“I’m sorry,” Ven laughed. “We’ll do something, but with all of us… where is Syy?”
“She vanished right before the battle,” Kalina stomped her foot onto Ven’s nose. “Some friend!”
“I’m sure she had her reasons,” Ven shrugged. “Now, since we’re all here, I have an idea for everyone…”
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“The slaves of fate have begun their move…”
A silver mask filled with a collage of shark-toothed grins. He swept his silver robed arms in a circle, extended to his full height. Everything moved as it should, even the anomaly. He turned to the woman, knelt before him.
“You’ve done well, well enough for a reward,” He flicked his fingers. “You’re free to act, for one year your will is your own!”
“Thank you… Master…” Syy rose, face black. “May I return to the Relic World? I find it a welcome distraction.”
“As you like,” A flash and Syy was gone.
The mirrored figure hunched over his portal, gleeful. Soon… his freedom was in sight. A path that would lead to the completion of his primary task, a return to what should be. He drew a shard from his robes and summoned a companion he’d come to enjoy.
“Your brother is moving to my tune,” The mask laughed. “I thought you said he would never help me?”