Child of Destruction
Author: Chaos Valkyrie
First Conceptualized: December 12, 2003
Posted Chapter 12: February 3, 2006
Author's Notes: Here she is, Chapter Twelve! I've sorted all my notes and ideas, and this tale will end up having about 30 chapters! So we're not even halfway there yet! What's in store for our intrepid heroes next?
Chapter Twelve: Inheritance
Iris grudgingly left her bedroll the next morning. She was not a happy Dark Dragoon, no indeed she was not. The previous evening had been a disaster. Her sword was broken, she'd been harassed all night, and then, to top it all off, that arrogant woman was the Fire Dragoon! Which meant that she'd most likely be traveling with Iris and company from now on. Oh. Joy.
Iris ate a quick breakfast (Lana was there) and excused herself to pack up. She ignored Lana's I'm-so-superior glance and commentary ("Any good warrior would've already packed") and hid behind her horse for the rest of the camp's break down.
Well, not hiding per say – Iris was not afraid of Lana by any means – she just disliked her. A lot. And didn't want to deal with her. At all. Ever again.
Unfortunately, Iris determined rather quickly that Soa (or whoever was up there) really must hate her, for Lana rode between Andres and Iris all the way into Seles. So, while Iris did get to continue her conversation about Dragoon magic with Andres, she had to do it over – and with – Lana.
It was fortunate that the company reached Seles just as Iris had determined to throw herself under the carriage trundling along behind them. Iris dismounted quickly after entering the fortified town to try to remove herself from the acerbic captain's presence.
She knew of Seles from the legends, of course, but over the last hundred years the city had dramatically metamorphosed. No longer was it the quaint birthplace of Shana and Dart, the simple town lying on the borders of several kingdoms. Now it was fully fortified, a stronghold against the uncharted lands beyond Serdio.
Iris was impressed in spite of herself. The walls were tall and thick, and much more secure than the Tenth Stronghold had been in Feyrbrand Forest. But the town inside those walls was also more beautiful… it still somehow managed to retain the quaint hominess of the original village. The simple buildings, the towering yet tiny cathedral, the children playing nearby… all belied the fact that there was a war brewing nearby. And Iris was duly impressed by the people's resilient peacefulness.
"Your Highness!" a voice called from nearby. Iris looked over to see Andres being accosted by several well-dressed men. She assumed they must be generals or advisors, given their mixture of armor and finely-tailored clothes. Andres began talking with them immediately, excusing himself from the group hastily. He did, however, pause before leaving, and Iris' eyes widened as he left the men and turned in her direction.
"Iris, I discovered that the blacksmiths are stationed on the south side of the village," he said, pointing over the buildings at the black smoke that was surely rising from the forges. "I'm sure you can find someone there who can reforge your rapier," he told her with a quick smile. Iris nodded in reply as he was dragged away again by his advisors. She was touched that he had remembered…
A voice cleared itself from behind her, and Iris' delighted smile quickly turned to a grimace.
"Yes, Captain?" Iris asked, turning. She regarded the strangely hesitant Fire Dragoon with a raised eyebrow.
"You can call me Lana, Iris," the soldier reprimanded. She shifted her feet, and Iris sighed in exasperation.
"All right, Lana. What is it?" she asked more politely. Lana grinned.
"I know of a weapon you could use, if you will allow me," she said, waving her arm to the Northern part of the town. Iris tilted her head, but curiosity got the better of her.
"Lead on," she said, following the taller woman into the depths of the village.
Andres looked over the papers before him with mounting impatience. The reports just didn't add up.
"Are you certain of this?" he asked his advisor Natori, who wavered nervously nearby.
"Yes your Highness! One source reported that 5000 warriors had flocked to the Ragnor banner… but another suggests only 2000 soldiers. We're uncertain of the exact numbers…"
"Well, has anyone bothered to try to find out?" Andres interrupted impatiently. His advisors gave him a surprised look, and Andres caught himself. "Excuse my bluntness," he apologized, hiding a grin. He had been spending way too much time with Iris…
"Yes sire, but our spies have, well, disappeared," another advisor answered.
"Disappeared?" Andres asked, pouring himself a drink from a nearby flask.
"Yes sire." This time the question was answered by General Navarre. A grim man, but extremely loyal. "But the number of troops is not our most pressing concern. There is now the rumor that the Ragnor forces have powerful monsters at their command."
"Monsters? What kind of monsters?" Andres asked, politely interested. There were always such rumors floating about in every conflict he had worked with… and all had been untrue.
"Dragons, sire… and Virage," Navarre answered grimly. Andres almost snorted.
"It can't be both, General. The two creatures have a ten thousand year old hatred for each other," Andres answered.
"But sire! There have been sightings of both in this area!" Natori exclaimed, shoving a new stack of reports under the Prince's nose. Andres frowned as he read through them. All the reports seemed to accurately describe the creatures, but he felt that there was something amiss… Andres waved a hand to the soldier guarding the door.
"Go find Iris and Darrin, and bring them here immediately," he asked. The soldier nodded curtly. Andres returned his attention to his advisors. "Several of my companions fought against a Virage not long ago. I'd like for them to read over these reports and give their opinion," he stated. He returned to a previous stack of papers, ignoring his advisors' quizzical looks. Darrin they knew… but Iris?
Iris sneezed as she followed Lana into the small cottage.
"Oh, excuse the dust… I'm not really home very often," the Fire Dragoon apologized absentmindedly. "Wait here," she said, swiftly disappearing up the stairs. Iris looked carefully around the sparsely decorated room and grinned. So the immaculate captain couldn't be bothered to do housework… her head jerked up at the series of loud thumps coming from upstairs, and her smile grew as she heard the captain mumbling to herself.
"I know its here somewhere… That's not it!... Oh, hey, I've been looking for that… Aha! Here it is!" Iris quickly hid her smile as the captain came tripping back down the stairs.
"My ancestor Shana kept a trunk full of mementos from the last Dragoon's rising," she told Iris. "I think this will suit you," she handed Iris a long box, "I never had any use for it, it was too light, but its well-made…" she trailed off as Iris opened the box.
Inside lay a sheathed sword. The hilt was made of black steel wrapped with black leather, with a black stone twinkling from the pommel. Iris lifted it reverently, pulling the sword partly from the sheath. The blade was forged of blackened steel, glimmering silver along the sharpened razor edge.
"That was the last weapon of Rose, the original Dark Dragoon," Lana told her softly. "She abandoned it for the Dragon Buster sword in the final battle. My ancestor found it after Rose sacrificed herself to destroy the 108th seed," she finished. Iris nodded softly, still admiring the blade.
"Thank you," she told the taller captain, smiling as she took off her old sword and hung the new one at her side. It was heavier than her rapier, but the weight was comfortable. Lana smiled before briskly leading Iris out the door.
"Well, you'll need to practice with it, since it's a much finer blade than you're used to," she said, rolling her eyes with a smile. She also eyed the Dark Dragoon critically. "And we'll still need to visit the smiths and see about getting you some light armor… you can't fight in what you've got on," she said, leading Iris to the south again.
Iris rolled her eyes. "It had better be light armor… I'm not wearing anything like you've got on. That's stuff's fit for Neanderthals," she replied. The two women smiled at each other; an understanding had been reached.
"Oo, black armor." Iris fawned over the breastplate while Lana laughed nearby.
"You know, if you keep drooling like a child in a candy shop, I might actually lose all respect for you," the taller captain responded. Iris tried on the piece, chuckling as it fit perfectly.
"You have respect for me?" she retorted. Lana laughed.
"Good point," the captain grinned. "Here," she said, tossing Iris matching leather pants. "Your style is too quick for heavy armor," she said, looking over the table for other odds and ends. Iris ducked into the smithy's back room and quickly changed into the leather armor. It matched her dancer's shoes, so she left those on with the ensemble.
"Here," Lana said, handing Iris some black leather gloves as she emerged. "I like it, it fits you well," she responded, eyeing Iris thoughtfully as she rebuckled her sword belt over the new armor. "How 'bout another match tonight?"
Iris opened her mouth to reply when Darrin came rushing in.
"Iris! Andres needs us at headquarters," he panted. He then paused. "Nice armor," he complimented her. Iris nodded gruffly at the compliment.
"Thanks," she said, ignoring Lana's suggestive look. Lana laughed.
"Here, I'll take your clothes back to the others," the taller woman chuckled. Iris handed her the bundle of clothes as she followed Darrin outside.
"Lana, see to it that they come get new armor as well," Darrin suggested. Lana grinned.
"I was already planning on it," was the reply as the tall captain made her way through town to their lodgings.
"Do you know why we've been summoned?" Iris asked Darrin nervously. Darrin shrugged.
"I think its something to do with the Virage we fought at Shirley's Temple," he replied. He led Iris to a tall building in the heart of Seles. The guard looked them over and waved them inside quickly.
The building was well lit, with white-washed walls glowing. Darrin led Iris upstairs and into a large room. Iris straightened her shoulders and followed Darrin past the numerous tables piled with reports and maps, and past the advisors who were eyeing them critically.
"Ah, Darrin, Iris," Andres greeted, looking up at his companions. He blinked, looking over Iris' armor, but said nothing. Clearing his throat, he picked up a stack of reports and handed it to them.
"Read through these and tell me if these reports match the Virage you fought before," he said. Iris tried to refrain from blushing as she looked through the documents, reading the various accounts of Dragons and Virages, and ignoring the stares of Andres and the advisors.
"Well, the reports seem to match the description of the creature we fought," Darrin muttered thoughtfully. Iris nodded distractedly.
"Earthquakes, meteors… this sounds like an Earth Dragon," she pondered out loud. Andres nodded.
"That's what I thought," he replied.
"But Ragnor can't be controlling both, can they?" Iris asked. "Dragons and Virage have too great a hatred to work so closely together."
Andres looked smug. "That's what I thought as well." A general cleared his throat nearby.
"But sire, the reports document the presence of Ragnor soldiers at each battle," he corrected.
Iris snorted. "But the reports also fail to state whether the Ragnor troops survived the encounters. It may only be a coincidence," she stated. Andres hid a smile as Navarre bristled.
"I trust my soldiers to give me accurate reports," he snarled, towering over the Dark Dragoon. Iris glared up at him, unthreatened.
"And I trust that I know more about Dragons and Virage than your soldiers," she retorted, the spirit flashing angrily from the choker about her neck. Darrin shook his head wearily as Andres cleared his throat.
"Enough. Thank you both for your time, Darrin, Iris," he said, rising to his feet. Taking Iris by the arm, he lead her to the door. Darrin walked out first, still shaking his head, while Andres closed the door behind them briefly.
"Navarre's a good general, just a bit… stubborn on certain matters," he whispered to Iris. His eyes twinkled as she snorted disdainfully. "You still owe me a rematch, you know," he told her in a normal voice. She grinned.
"Tonight then, after I wipe the floor with Lana," she told him, unsheathing her blade. He whistled at her new weapon, nodding.
"Tonight," he repeated. Iris turned to follow Darrin out, pausing at the top of the steps as Andres called out on last time.
"Oh, and Iris? Nice armor," he called softly with a grin before reentering the council chambers. This time, Iris couldn't help it… she blushed.
End Notes: Aw, cute Iris/Andres fluff. Now, to answer many questions all at once, here is a list of who is and isn't related to the original LoD Dragoons. Hopefully this'll clear things up once and for all. There are, in all actuality, only a few of my characters who have a direct blood relation to the LoD Dragoons. Here's the layout…
Direct Line:
Andres (23) – great-great-etc.-grandson to Albert and Emille; heir to Bale/Serdio
Lana (21) – great-great-etc.-granddaughter to Dart and Shana; hence, would also be related to Haschel, Zieg, and Claire (Dart's Mother).
Geru (14) – Meru and Guaraha's son, because I figure Winglies live longer than humans and they might have waited.
Josef (25) & Adele (19) – distant cousins to Andres, descended from Lisa (Emille's sister) and Nello.
Indirect Line:
Claire (18) – from Rouge, student who has inherited the Rouge Arts, probably related to Haschel and Lana very distantly, but relationship is unimportant. I named her Claire in tribute to Dart's mother, that is all.
No Relationship Whatsoever:
There is no one in this story who is in any way, shape or form related to Kongol, Miranda, Lavitz, Rose, or Lloyd. Its conceivable that these people probably have relations somewhere in Gloriano, just not in my story. So, by default, the following characters (some of whom you'll meet shortly), and their relatives are in no way related to LoD Dragoons…
Iris (17); Dalia (15); Darrin (16); Seraph (?); Auric (24); Marcus (16); Dominic (?)