PRELUDE TO VENGEANCE

Yolo's Landing, seven centuries ago

The Dragonslayer drank deeply, ignoring the dark sky outside.

Five years had passed.

Five years since his loss, since when everything was bereaved of Meaning. The Campaign had ended; the world had moved on, and now peace applied its healing powers upon bloodied wounds and shattered fates. Yet nothing was able to soothe his weeping soul.

The apartment was nearly as dark as the night outside. Illumination panels and light strips stood non-functional, broken or torn away in fits of rage and grief. Bottles and other trash littered the floor. Furniture lay overturned in chaotic patterns. A lone portable lamp cast a reddish glow from the corner. The Dragonslayer sat behind a table, his mouth searching for the bottle in his hand, the motion once a desperate hope for escape, now a half-dead habit.

He turned his unfocused gaze to the panoramic window. The cityscape glimmered in faint night-light, too young to blaze in full earth-bound radiance. The stars were bright, yet the sky was shrouded in shadow. The moons had retreated beyond the horizons. The Great Cosmos was ever-present and beckoned the bravest to its infinite reaches. He wondered for the aeonth time if he should answer the call in the ultimate manner, and search for Her out there, across the oceans of eternity.

The intercom chimed vibrantly. The Dragonslayer did not respond. The entrance door swooshed open nonetheless. Two figures stepped inside.

"Now, do not be startled," a familiar voice whispered. "He is quite... troubled, yet I am sure he will receive you well. Ugh, so dark in here! A sec, here is the light switch..."

There was a negligent change in illumination. The sparse rays of additional lighting fell upon the newcomers. The Dragonslayer shifted his hazy eyes and recognized the confident, spirited posture of the Rival.

"Airo! Airo! Wake up!" he said. "Look who I have brought here!"

"He seems... very ill," someone else said. "Is he sad about something?"

"Yes, my dear. Yet we are here to make him better," the Rival said. "Now, be polite to our host and greet him."

"Hello," the other said with timid, shy voice.

The Dragonslayer finally registered the Rival's companion. She was slightly larger, her dark blue scales flowing in different hues under the faint light. Her wings were partly outstretched in anxious excitement, and her amber eyes were full of vitality, curiosity, and joy. She exuded happiness, displaying a soft demeanor whose innocence was written plainly on her reptilian face.

The Dragonslayer saw only enemy.

The fog in his mind evaporated in an instant. He jolted upright, his every fibre wire-taut in primal hatred. "Who... what have you brought here!" he demanded angrily.

Stolen novel; please report.

"Airo, take it easy," the Rival said. "This is Kalessia. She–"

"I do not care if the beast was given a name," the Dragonslayer growled. "Did you forget how dangerous they are? Did you forget what they are capable of!"

"Airo, listen to me. Dragons are not mindless brutes! They have had the potential for self-awareness all along. They–"

"Shut up, you brainless idiot! You dare bring a dragon here! Into my home!" The Dragonslayer overturned the table and stood up, an avatar of burning wrath.

"Calm down!" the Rival shouted. "Airo, she will not harm anyone!" Indeed, his companion already had backed up a stride, wings mantling in nervous alarm, slit-pupiled eyes watching fearfully her host.

The Dragonslayer possessed no clarity in his soul. "She is a dragon!" he roared and flew into rage, fists swinging, teeth bared, jaw locked, murder in his fiery gaze. The Rival dashed, grabbing him, and the two struggled madly.

"She hatched barely two weeks ago!" the Rival yelled. "She is just a child!" He stood in the way, shielding the dragon with his body.

"The Stars curse you!" the Dragonslayer screamed at the top of his lungs. "It was their fault! Zenassa died because of those bloody monsters! The dragons infected her!" He swung, but the Rival seized his arm.

"By the Great Cosmos, it has been five years! Let go of your grief before you lose your mind completely!"

"Never! She died because of them! I will kill them ALL!"

The Dragonslayer pushed against the Rival, trying to reach the enemy beyond, yet the man before him held tight. They fought in this stilted manner, each recognizing a steadfast friend in the other, now turned into a strained ally. They clashed verbally, arguments forgotten in place of raw emotions, the Dragonslayer's pain matched against the Rival's love, while the focal subject of this microcosmic battle watched it unfold with frightened tension. But as the Dragonslayer descended into boundless fury, so did the Rival became more desperate to find a solution, until he snapped.

"Stop! Stop it, Airo!" the Rival shouted. "It was my fault!"

The Dragonslayer sputtered mid-scream, and his grip lessened. "W-what?" he asked in confusion, still half-lost in bloodlust.

"It was my fault!" the Rival repeated. "Zenassa was transmogrified because of me!"

The Dragonslayer ceased struggling, and regarded him with an empty stare. "You...?" he whispered in disbelief.

"Yes," the Rival said, voice bitter with sorrow. "She was hesitant to experiment with the draconic strain. I convinced her to do the tests."

"Why..."

"We needed progress on Project Ascension. The uplift branch was nearly completed, yet the transcendental branch... During her work, Zu was the only one who somehow developed partial immunity to the draconic strain, and we... I am sorry, Airo. We took every precaution. We... I thought everything would be fine. I should have never persuaded Zu. I have regretted this decision of mine every day since the incident.

"Please, forgive me."

The Dragonslayer became very still. The Rival paused, breath held, his expression a vessel of desperate plea. The Dragonslayer stared, his friend's confession slowly reaching his consciousness. As the revelation dawned on him, he felt how the last star on his inner horizon winked out and only darkness remained. He shifted his gaze minutely to the dragon behind, then back to the human who stood before him.

The Rival became the Nemesis.

A new light suddenly filled the Dragonslayer. It seared his heart, and gave him a singular, blazing purpose, encased in cold clarity. Vengeance.

Before him now stood only the enemy.

There was a familiar pressure upon his senses the Dragonslayer had not felt in years, as time literally slowed down. He saw the Nemesis' eyes fill with terror, the only available reaction in the blur of distorted temporal flow. The Dragonslayer reached for his sword, drew it in one blinding motion and set it flying to the Nemesis' heart.

The world was shaken by a roar. A winged figure tore through the veil of relativity. A powerful claw swiped, turning away the Dragonslayer's strike. Somehow, he retained his grip on the blade, despite the bone-shattering blow. Then the dragon slammed into him full-force, and he lost contact with the ground.

Pain wracked the Dragonslayer's back as his body hit an obstacle. The window burst in a whirlwind of glass. The winds of two environments met in a howling vortex. Gravity reached, and pulled with dooming inevitability.

Yet the Dragonslayer was possessed by a far greater force. An inviolable, absolute vow engraved itself in his being in the same instant as it escaped his breath. He fell into the darkness with a single, chilling scream.

"YOU WILL PAY, FEERTAAAAU!"