Ulster woke up after a rather terrifying dream. In it, he saw how his friends and the allies they met along the way fought a great beast that seemed to command the space around them. The terrifying aspect of the dream was how their enemy seemed infinite and disembodied, as if to disguise the horror that its real form was. He surmised that this being was the leader of the light dragons or at least their greatest champion. Otherwise, what was the significance of that dream to them.
But the gray-furred werewolf wasn’t sure if that was him imagining the epic tale of the heroes of Dracokin or it being a message. He sure wanted to hope that there was still a chance that their battle would end.
Yet, life went on, and even Ulster started to doubt their survival.
He put on his pincer glasses on his snout as he got off his bed, reaching for his crutch. Using the crutch as a support, Ulster stood up and walked to the bathroom, all while yawning and opening his maws, exposing his sharp, canine teeth.
After finishing his business, he got dressed, putting on his shirt, then pants, held in place by a pair of suspenders. He then walked out of his room to be greeted by the bright sunlight.
“Spring again,” he said as he saw the trees. The flowers had blossomed, giving the tree a bright pink color. Ulster sighed.
“Has it really been that long?” he thought.
Ulster walked out slowly as a familiar figure greeted him. He turned to see his friend approaching him, making Ulster smile. Caralas had been friends with Ulster ever since he came to Pol Hain as one of the refugees. Like many displaced refugees from his home continent, he felt lost and scared. Ulster felt that it was his responsibility as a fellow foreigner to help him. He was the first to do so, but for a while, he was the only one.
The most obvious reason was that Caralas Oblari was not human, nor was he a werewolf. He was a hellhound.
Hellhounds were humanoids much like werewolves, but that was where the similarities end. Like their name implied, hellhounds looked like dogs. However, the term ‘weredog’ did not apply to them because they had several other features that gave them that name. Namely, hellhounds had a pair of horns, crimson eyes with slitted pupils, long, forked tongues, unusual fur color, and finally, their long, prehensile tail.
It was just like a classical depiction of demons, which made it unfair for them. Even worse, Caralas’s kind was the reason for the mass evacuation, and the ongoing crisis aptly named ‘The Hellish Incursion’.
Caralas was one of many hellhounds that were also displaced. He wasn’t a soldier and had no interest in causing chaos or burning down the whole Tragorian countryside. He was as much a victim as the werewolves. No one understood, so he became an outcast. Then came Ulster, who gave him a place to call home and a friend to rely on. Knowing the tension in Pol Hain might not be kind for Caralas, Ulster gave the hellhound a chance to work with Ulster and move to the Bracken Woods, invited by one individual named Fritz.
Aside from Elyse and some other satyrs visiting or living in Pol Hain, Ulster had never seen a civilization entirely devoted to druidic magic. However, he wasn’t there to research the culture of the satyrs, though he would come to that. His focus was the revelation that Fritz told him.
The origin of the Lycans.
It was the most surprising and the greatest discovery of all time. There were a ton of wealth about the history of the Lycans, even if most of them were not the most flattering of depictions. Even so, it made him able to find out the lost part of his kind’s history, and he would gladly research on it, even if he was aware that it might not make things easier for the Lycans, especially if they knew their kind was created from a dark ritual.
Nevertheless, as a scholar, it was still his duty to present facts. He got inspired by Caralas, who, despite of knowing his kind’s notoriety, still believed that in time, hellhounds would be accepted into ‘surface world’ society. Good thing Ulster could understand Caralas easily, owing to the translation magic already commonly used in Main.
And thus, their friendly relationship persisted. Ulster gained many other friends, including Elyse’s core family, Fritz, the satyr prince from a neighboring kingdom of Val’seris, and mages from Dracokin, who helped him learn the principles of magic while also giving him the means to learn magic, even if he had no mana potential as a Ternorian.
All of his newfound friends, however, could not replace the ones he lost almost 2 years ago.
Ever since the news broke out about the last battle in Qeveriyt, Ulster had been waiting for anything good regarding his friends. His hope was high, but the two years they were gone started to wear it thin. He was so close to move on from them.
Hans, Adeline, Keeshar, Azureath, Zenithia, along with Richie and Ritik, were reportedly missing after they volunteered to get into Qeveriyt as a forward scout, with the last living contact with them being Ritik giving the clear for the soldiers to occupy the city lost in time. No one ever saw where they went. It was as if they vanished without trace.
They were not declared dead, only missing. The Continent of Main, especially the Central Region, would not assume a missing person or missing people dead until they were proven to be so. Magical mishaps happened frequently, caused by mischievous mage students or simply the inevitable accidents caused by students not following the general safety rules. Sometimes, they were harmlessly transported into a pocket dimension, other times they were displaced, though rarely, and supposedly avoidable, some died.
Of course, there were still time limits until they were declared legally dead, and it was two years. In about a month, the seven (not counting Avila and Fenrir) would be declared dead. Ulster kept hoping that they would pop up soon, and woke up everyday waiting for the good news.
Yet, even he had his limits. In time, he would need to move on and start thinking about the future. Caralas encouraged him to, reasoning that it was the best.
“I lost my family by the Royalist Purge,” said Caralas when he listened to Ulster’s woes. “Ever since then, I ran, risking my life going through the Crossing Gate, being shunned upon by both surface dwellers and fellow hounds, pleaded for passage through the sea, and finally meeting you, a surface dweller who somehow understood and talked Hordo. The kindness the dwellers of this land gave me made me able to let my family and my trauma go. I must look forward, not backwards.”
And that almost convinced Ulster. Almost.
In the present, Caralas, who had just finished helping some satyrs, walked alongside Ulster to accompany him. Ever since the Pol Hain incident, Ulster was still recovering from being paralyzed from the waist down. Mana-based therapy helped gave him his mobility back, but given his Ternorian status, the process was long. A process that would only take half a year took him more than two years, and even then, he was not fully healed. His left leg was still limping, requiring the use of a crutch.
“You’re up early,” remarked Ulster. “I thought I’d be the one waking you up.”
“Can’t miss the spring blossoms,” said Caralas with a toothy grin. “I have always wanted to see this again. There is…so much color on the surface.”
“I suppose it is beautiful.” Ulster sighed. “Yet, for me, it’s to remind me of time.”
“Still thinking about your friends?”
“I wanted to move on. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy. Well, in the end, it will be forced upon me when they are declared dead. No other way to bargain for it, I suppose.”
“It’s nice to have friends,” said Caralas. “Ah, well. Might as well find more who cares so they’ll be waiting for me.”
Ulster chuckled. “Someone’s feeling quite chipper. Where’s that gloomy hound from before?”
“Would you like to see me like that?”
“Better not. To be fair, you can be quite obnoxious. Just so you know, that’s your way of drawing attention to yourself. Good thing I got the signal.”
Caralas playfully elbowed Ulster, who laughed.
“Ah,” said a familiar voice. “Just the Lycan I need.”
Ulster turned to face the voice and said, “Fritz. How’s your day going?”
“The usual.”
“Not doing work as a prince?”
“Trying to find a job as a commoner. Val’seris officially abolished the monarchy after holding their first general election for a new government. Given that the heir to the throne, namely me, got so notorious to the point that they feared my face, a consensus was made to remove the influence of my family. Then, of course, it wasn’t that easy.”
“You made it harder for them?”
“Well, I got a reputation to protect, and to be fair, that reputation was ruined thanks to the impostor. Good thing it only took one year or so before the new council finally accepted my innocence, though at that point, I no longer had any interest in becoming a king. Why can’t they just do this earlier?”
“That’s sounds rather irresponsible,” commented Caralas. “And to think I mistook you for a demon.”
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“Hey, just because I had black fur and imposing-looking horns, doesn’t mean I’m a demon!”
“Well, to be fair, goats have been associated with demonic rituals.”
“And for us, it’s wolves, and by extension, dogs. Fair’s fair, so let’s not pursue that unless you want to give some idiots ideas.”
Ulster wanted to comment about how absurd it sounded, but he knew what Fritz meant.
“Does that mean your name’s not Udvik anymore?”
“Udvik’s the tyrant prince who dabbled in dark magic,” said Fritz. “Fritz Hageder, on the other hand, is standing right in front of you. He was once an anti-monarchist trying to seduce the heiress apparent to the throne, who was then exiled from the Bracken Woods, then pardoned for assisting the king. Ironic, huh?”
“New name, new story, huh?” Ulster sighed. “If only it’s that easy to let go of the past.”
“Can’t do it either.” Fritz’s caprine expression changed to sadness. “Elle and I might not be an item now, but I still miss her. I still wish we can at least be friends, but now…I don’t think I’ll get that chance.”
Little did they realize how everything in that world ran with irony. Ulster and Fritz would be given the greatest surprise of their lives, one that was two years due.
Or at least, two years, seven months, and one day due.
Ulster, Fritz, and Caralas went on their day, assisting with Ulster’s anthropological research, went back to bed, and going out the next day to repeat their daily jobs when the fateful news came to them. A satyr barker relayed the news for the day (satyrs did not print papers) as Ulster listened in passing when all of the sudden, his ears perked up upon hearing something he had wished ever since his friends went missing.
“Hear this, hear this!” shouted the barker. “Missing Qeveriyt scout party appeared out of thin air last night in the dark city of dragons! They were reportedly critically injured and were currently being treated in Dracokin. Along with them were three white-scaled dragons, also being treated for injuries. In other news….”
“Missing scouts?!” exclaimed Ulster, with Fritz close by. “It’s them! Fritz, it’s them! They are the missing Qeveriyt scouts! We need to get to them right now!”
“Well, that doesn’t sound like something the barker would joke about this early in the morning,” said Fritz. “I’m convinced. We’ll get to Dracokin as soon as possible. Good thing they gave us a portal to use, eh?”
As the Bracken Woods recovered from the ultimately misguided attempt of a war, and after declaring to open their once isolated kingdom to the world, a magic portal was constructed outside the forest, through which travelers not flying on a dragon’s back would come through. With the Aetherium still lingering, using a portal was still considered risky, even after two years. It wouldn’t be a problem for someone with a good grasp of magic, druidic or regular mana manipulation. For the general masses, it would take a while.
Ulster and Caralas had been to Dracokin several times through the portal. The magic amulet they both had enabled them to pass through a portal even if they were Ternorians. Fritz’s help also made the process much easier.
The portal was housed in a building built to protect it from being tampered with, which was specifically made to look very accessible. Ulster compared it to a transit station. The portal itself did not look very imposing, given that it looked more like a doorway with runes while making a humming noise akin to an engine.
After paying for the operational fees, the three stepped through the open portal, which showed a glimpse of the city of dragons. Going through the portal felt like going through a door: there wasn’t anything complicated, just walk in. It did not work during the light dragons’ attack, however, due to Aetherium.
The change of scenery was not as bad as the change of weather. Bracken Woods was situation in the temperate region close to the North, while the Central region, specifically Dracokin and Qeveriyt, were in the middle of a vast, sandy desert. The jarring weather change was something portal travelers needed to be accustomed with to prevent discomfort.
As usual, the city of Dracokin was bustling with life. Dragons, beast races, elves, and humans all mingled together going about their daily lives. Only that day was a special day for everyone, and Ulster’s ears caught some of the chatters.
“They came back with light dragons?” asked one to the other. “I don’t know if I should trust them or not.”
“The light dragons seem docile enough. But, eh, I’ll trust the grand mage on this one. He is the one who seems to know who to trust, and he clearly trusts the dragons.”
“What if Alverian was also converted?”
“Try and tell that to his face.”
Hearing those made Ulster wonder what the light dragons were doing with the group. Were they really there to finish what they started? If so, why wasn’t Dracokin a crumbled mess like it was two years ago?
The scars and trauma of the light dragons’ attempted invasion still lingered among the populace, especially those who lost their loved ones during two of the attacks. The first was far more devastating than the second. From what Ulster heard, the second attack only destroyed the buildings, but death was comparatively low. The victims were only injured, ranging from light to severe. The deaths were caused by carelessness around the buildings.
Fritz was the most impatient of the three. He quickly approached a guard and asked about the returned scout. She pointed them to the hospital, but also warned them that they might not be able to enter.
And that warning was justified. A light dragon sat near the door glaring at several people caught staring at her, before Ulster noticing that she seemed glad to do so. He never thought a light dragon would have such level of fun. The one friendly light dragon he knew did not seem to have that.
Moreover, the light dragon seemed rather unnatural. The reports said that light dragons looked like they were bathed in light, making them hard to identify. This light dragon not only was a regular albino dragon, it also had bandages all over its body. An injured light sounded like the most impossible sentence, which struck Ulster as odd.
However, the white-scaled dragon looked familiar, somehow. Its feminine appearance, along with a general sense of familiarity, made Ulster curious. He did not even have time to ask the dragon’s appearance when she turned to him and spoke, with her blue eyes brimming with excitement.
“You’re Ulster, right?” she asked. “Addy’s lover?”
“Addy? Oh, you mean Adeline,” he said. “How’s she, by the way?”
“She’s inside, recovering,” she said. Then, she realized that Ulster might not recognize her, so she added. “You might be wondering who I am. Well, I am Zenithia.”
“Zenithia?! You?” said Ulster by surprise. “This is the result of two years’ growth?”
“Ah, well, the thing is…it’s barely an hour for us.”
“Pardon?”
“It doesn’t strike me as odd, since relative time progression has been what I experienced before. Well, this time I suppose I’ll learn how to experience time linearly, now that I lost that part of me. You see, Ulster, we were trapped in an Altered Reality. To you, two years have passed. To us, we have just barely won a battle. For me…it’s a nice break.”
“So, that means…everyone in there has not aged?”
“Might as well see them for yourself.”
Ulster and Fritz did not hesitate to walk through the hospital’s entrance, while Caralas paused for a moment to look at Zenithia. The white-scaled dragon looked back and noticed that Caralas seemed to not fear her, unlike several bystanders who looked at her suspiciously. She also noticed that his appearance seemed odd, given that he looked closer to a dog than a wolf.
“Can I help you?” asked Zenithia.
“You’re as white as milk,” he said. “The surface world never ceases to amaze.”
He smiled, showing his sharp rows of teeth that looked different from a werewolf (or any canines in particular), before joining Ulster and Fritz inside. The light dragon chuckled and said, “Interesting fellow.”
Upon entering, Ulster went to the reception, inquiring on the returned missing scouts while also telling them that he was a friend. He even told the staffs the names of the scouts, at least the ones he knew.
“Hans Rezmirn, Adeline de Rochefort, Keeshar of Raptor Island, and Azureath the dragon,” said Ulster. “The Raptor doesn’t have a last name.”
“Room 200,” said the staff. “One of the healers can show you the way.”
“Thank you.”
Despite his disability, Ulster paced towards room 200, expertly using his crutch like it was his own leg. His lupine appearance turned a couple heads, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was to finally meet his friends, provided they were not in a coma like it was more than two years ago.
He got his wish as the healer opened room 200. He was more surprised that it wasn’t a room, per se, but was instead a walled courtyard with several beds near the door, separated from the open air by a transparent veil. The open space was reserved for dragons. The arid desert climate meant that it rarely, if ever, rained. Sandstorms were a problem, but a little magic barrier would help.
The open space was occupied by a white-scaled dragon that seemed critically injured, judging by the bandages wrapping his body and his tattered translucent wings. A stump that was once his right hind leg was also covered in bandages. He was sleeping peacefully, being observed by another person, an anthropomorphic red dragon with deer antlers. Upon close inspection, part of his body was covered in scales, while others, especially his head, was covered in fur, along with having several mammalian features such as snout and long whiskers. Ulster could tell that he had an appearance of an Eastern dragon.
“Pardon me,” said Ulster, which caught the anthropomorphic dragon’s attention.
“Yes? Can I help you?” He closely looked at Ulster and said, “You’re friends with Hans and Adeline, aren’t you? Haven’t seen any other werewolves aside from them, so I quickly assume so.”
“You assume correctly,” said Ulster. “Where are they?”
“Here,” said Hans’ voice. Ulster turned to see his black-furred friend smiling at him, along with the noble red-furred werewolf who slowly walked to Ulster and hugged him. Ulster, overcame with emotions, hugged Adeline back, but quickly realized the mistake of letting go of his cane. Unable to use both of his legs as support, he lost his balance and fell to the ground, letting out an audible ‘oof’ with Adeline on top of him.
“Ah! Forgive me! Are you okay?” she asked. She then noticed the crutch that fell to the side, alerted by its noise. "I did not notice the crutch."
“Never better, Addy. My fault,” he said while reaching for his crutch, with Adeline helping him.
“You don’t seem to change, even if two years have passed,” she said. “Well, aside from your mobility. How’s your legs?”
“Mostly recovered. Physical therapy helps. It's been a year since I was bound to a wheelchair."
“That’s delightful news! Oh, Ulster, I never thought I’d see you again! I thought that was it when we got trapped inside that Altered Reality, so we all made a silent vow that we would have each other backs for the inevitable end!”
“And I suppose we can thank you for the end of the invasion.”
“Not me. Him.” Adeline turned to face the white-scaled dragon. “He was the reason why this reality still existed and not as food for the light dragons. You might’ve guessed what he is.”
“I do. He’s a light dragon, isn’t he? But why…?”
“As a consequence of severing this reality’s link to the light dragons, all the light dragons who chose to stay lost most of their abilities,” said Hans. “They can still manipulate light, of course, but not as extensively, and certainly not reality-hopping. They can’t heal themselves as easily, either. They are now like any other dragons out there, but in command of the element of light.”
“So, Zenithia as an adult dragon…?”
“Is permanent,” said Adeline. “It's a shame. Her small form is a lot friendlier.”
“So, everyone is accounted for?”
“Yeah. Keeshar and Ritik are both still resting. Azureath has some unfinished business. I don’t know how she recovers so quickly. We have just returned last night and now she’s already flying into the city.”
“Think it has something to do with those Marked dragons?”
“Possibly. They were all victims of the light dragons, and now with the immediate danger gone, she and those dragons are finally free. Or she might be going to her oldest living human friend.”
“In any case, she is not alone, so, don’t worry. Huh. Why am I worried for a dragon again?”
“It means you do care for her,” said Ulster with a smile. “But what the hell. Come here, you two!”
Adeline and Hans complied. Despite their own injuries and Ulster’s, they embraced each other and laughed, finally able to meet after a very long time. The three friends from Ternor were finally back together, and it was the perfect moment, too.
They never thought how their adventures would take them. They all grew from the first time they departed the ports of Angla on the Blackjack. The Main continent changed them for the better.
And all they could do was laugh and be glad about it, even if it was only a temporary respite.