Primogenitor
Chapter Seventeen
Pain. Undesirable, all-consuming pain.
He swung his weapon as if the mortal vessel would be controlled by somebody else.
Midgardsormr didn't want to fight the descendants Nidhogg had just summoned for assistance, but the Primogenitor couldn't watch when they darted for Estinien. The evil smirk on his son's jaw tore at the dragon-father's patience, yet he had no time to punish the dark wyrm for using dirty tricks.
When Erik and Tammy tried to help him, he vehemently shook the head: "No, stay with the others! Nidhogg only waits for a chance to attack the bearer of the Eye! Don't get fooled! Thou can't focus on something else but him!" Before they were able to protest, mentioned Great Wyrm gave them outright a good reason to take 'Midge's' words serious. "It's alright, guys! Just do as he suggested! Ceci and I heal our Dragoons if necessary!" the Whitemage-Lalafell called while Carlos and Bertram prevented their foe from approaching Estinien.
"Man, I hate this..." the Azure Knight growled before his knees caved a little. The Eye was obviously difficult to handle when it was used against its owner... Piercing a grandchild's shoulder with his cursed lance, the disguised antiquity mumbled: "Surely not as much as I do..."
While he fought another drake back, Midgardsormr couldn't deny how much he was missing his senior's offensive support. Each member of the Horde was not only angry thanks to the intruders, but also enthusiastic to aid their sire, whereby an amateur-Lancer like him started to struggle with this combat. Struggle, until his shell began to tremble under mental pressure. The real confrontation, in other words, happened within the Methuselah. And this wasn't only for the weight of protecting in this very moment another life...
His chest silently screamed due to the agony which fighting his grandchildren meant. Furthermore, his instincts wanted to reprimand the son who made him injure more and more innocent children whose purpose in life had been reduced to the destiny of mere tools. Torn between pity and anger; trapped on the path of treachery for restoring what was broken. If it hadn't been for Hydaelyn's pact, he wouldn't be here in the first place, but Midgardsormr knew that looking over the silver-plate was the right thing to do – just as his maiden tended to describe things.
'Midge' froze when suddenly an outcry of said Raen filled the air.
Another grandchild was interfering; the wyvern hit the archmage unrestricted, so that her spells were each time interrupted. When the other Warriors tried to help her, Nidhogg immediately separated them via a strong attack that inflicted above all visibly damage to the five. Annika became unconscious, so Bertram had to take care of their wounds with his limited healing-potential thanks to Clemency. This, however, didn't help Carlos and Tammy, who were palsied to the point where they could not even move a muscle. Erik – embodiment of unchangeable willpower – got up once the first scratches were healed; rushing to his personal sister.
But the Great Wyrm was already charging another attack.
The beam didn't hit her directly as she managed to dodge, yet its vibrancy sent Cecilia a few meters through the air; straight to the ground. Helpless watching, Midgardsormr couldn't leave Estinien alone with all the Horde-members being threatening close, so he prayed for her brother's strength to suffice when that wyvern from before confronted Erik. Simultaneously, the dark being came close to the maiden who dizzily lay on her back – devilish chuckling when she failed to sit up thanks to grave injuries. Before the Au Ra had any chance to undertake one of her quick healing-spells, Nidhogg 'petrified' Cecilia's important nerves with dreadful energy.
His attention, though, wasn't only fixated on her.
"Thou cannot sufficiently paralyze my body in order to stop me, mortal." he said gleeful before 'Midge' heard the Azure Knight's exhausted groan. Nevertheless, the Elezen wasn't surrendering: "Don't... put your talons... on her...! She's not... your main-target...!"
With clenched jaws, the disguised Methuselah pushed an aevis away; hoping for a miracle to shield the Raen as long as he was unable to save her. Darn... If he could only render the Horde unconscious without having access to draconic powers...
His son replied unperturbed to Estinien's statement: "Thou art just as me aware of her capabilities... Had it not been for thee, she would probably never have tried to fight us dragons. With that, she is doomed to pay for thy decisions. And I do not need a single claw in order to claim my payment..."
Nidhogg's tail slid over the floor; lightly framing the maiden. Midgardsormr's heartbeat stopped for a moment. "Don't...!" the Elezen snarled, yet failed to thwart his enemy. The limb surrounded her; touched surprisingly softly the filigree, breakable body. A silent sign of one last moment of mercy, before the dragon would take her life away...
Cecilia glanced with chagrin at the wyrm. As if he was frustrating instead of frightening her.
No motion appeared achievable for her corpus, yet she was not afraid of the one who had done lots of damage to her. Actually, all anxiety Midgardsormr had seen before in Ul'dah seemed now entirely erased... As if the sentiment had never applied to herself, to begin with...
Once the borrowed eye met the girl's courageous mien, Nidhogg suddenly hesitated. His tail didn't squash her just as intended – instead, it glided along the mortal shape. Contacted her own tail and seadragon-ears made of horn-material without any signs of pressure. His voice was muted plus lacked wrath completely when he spoke to his captive: "Thou hast never succumbed to my influence like all the other humans... Unbelievable, how ironic that is... Thy wish to not harm us – to live side by side with us... I expected thee to fall easily for my offer, yet here thou art..."
The tip of his tail curled around her neck; starting to squeeze the maiden.
While 'Midge' felt inner terror, she was still not showing any panic. In lieu of that, Cecilia only beheld Nidhogg with an icy expression. Not even the noise of Erik's axe injuring that wyvern made her twitch. A deep growl rolled in the Great Wyrm's throat when his grasp – despite its increasing, choking nature – didn't make her visibly scared.
"How can thy fear be solely directed towards thy allies and even strangers instead of thy own fate? Art others so much more important to thee than thy own life...?"
She gave him an earnest gaze filled with pride. Disdain, maybe... Hereupon, Nidhogg's fangs ground aloud; his body trembled as if being offended. The moment his young descendant was beaten by Erik didn't matter to him when he irately whispered: "Thou should have been on our side. Thou should have been mine."
Midgardsormr shuddered when his son prepared a fire-blast.
~C~
The battle-axe was slammed right into Nidhogg's shoulder-blades.
"Let my sister be, you giant stalker!" the mannerless Hyur yelled angered and kicked without dread the dragon's back on which he stood. Once this sudden assault wasn't paralyzing the wyrm anymore, Nidhogg unhanded Cecilia in favor of getting her brave brother from his spine plus attacking him. This distraction gave the archmage time to regain her mobility in order to heal her wounds – just as it allowed Midgardsormr to make three grandchildren unconscious.
There was even more progress in consideration of the others, because Annika woke finally up. Quickly starting to take care of her injuries as well as both Blackmage-Elezen and Miqo'te-Bard, the Lalafell even thought of her stressed comrade: "Just a little bit longer, Midge! I'm helping you as soon as I can!" The antiquity caged in a mortal shell gave her a grateful smile, although the panic to lose his maiden hadn't yet let go of him. Argh... If the last remaining Horde-members were just already defeated... This vessel began to crack inwardly...
From the corners of his eyes, 'Midge' noticed something strange.
Watching Erik's duel, the Raen made a face which revealed strong frustration.
As she returned to her feet before every damage of her body was healed, the Methuselah concluded Cecilia wanted to help her brother. Well, he was just the same, albeit a handful of remaining aevis didn't let him have this luxury.
One second later, the Marauder took a harsh blow; being forced to his knees. "Dammit...!" he hissed and squinted the lids while the archmage sprinted to him. Despite the agony, Erik held his axe tightly when Nidhogg spat a fire-salvo at him – arms shaking under the immense pressure to block the opponent's attack like this. Cecilia supported the Hyur with protective card-magic before she finally reached him. There, she knelt immediately down and put the hands onto his damaged leg; concentration mixed with stress on her pretty face. The wound must be serious...
'Midge' bit into his tongue as he marginally beheld their misery – irate to be not strong enough to beat the very last Horde-members. His stamina really was shrinking... Tammy tried to assist him from afar, but her arms hadn't recovered enough in order to let the Miqo'te-Bard aim properly. Carlos' magic was a little bit more reliable, albeit the distance let him only shield the area directly in front of the exhausted Azure Knight.
Erik grumbled barely audible for Midgardsormr: "I underestimated him... Nidhogg has more reserves left than I thought... His general power and magic-resistance must have been less affected by the Eye as-" Coughing, the Warrior slowly caved to the fire's pressure; his axe made discreet cracking-noises which 'Midge's' draconic senses allowed him to hear.
"Do you have a sword in your current possession?!" the archmage suddenly asked and gazed intent at her personal brother's face. The Hyur opened perplexed his lids: "Eh? Well, yes, I do, but-" "Borrow me the blade, quickly! I need it to trigger my trump!" she cut him short before shielding the two of them with an Astrologian-barrier – one which hardly made it to stay intact under a storm of purple energy. Not even the circumstance helped, that the maiden stood between her brother and the powerful foe; facing the drake with her back in order to endure that attack better.
In this moment, 'Midge' knocked the most dangerous aevis out who had come too close to Estinien, yet needed Annika's help afterwards thanks to his vessel having finally lost too much resistibility. He even crawled on all fours because of the injuries his descendants had inflicted upon him... Ah, shameful weakness... The Lalafell's kind help only added to this disgrace...
Meanwhile, Carlos kept with Bertram and Tammy the very last Horde-members in check, but could also do nothing for their leader as well as the Raen. However, this didn't count for mental support. "Just give Ceci the sword! She surely has a plan!" the Blackmage-Elezen shouted plus zapped then two aevis with a lightning-bolt. "We trust you guys!" ,the other three Warriors called determined, "Beat Nidhogg!" Even Estinien – although raspy – tried to motivate his comrades: "You can do it...! I know you'll succeed...!"
Raising his trembling right arm, Erik let a short-sword appear.
It wasn't something Midgardsormr would have expected... The blade looked used and above all pretty outworn. Rather a memento than a true weapon. Clearly not one of the new weapons which Erik liked to collect just in case. But even though the Primogenitor had no idea what Cecilia wanted to do with that rusty thing, he doubted the Warrior's leader would carry a useless object.
The magical shield started to crack like glass when the Raen reached shakily out to grab the sword. However, once her hand touched it, a crimson glow flitted over both eyes – making the red one even more draconic, while the blue exemplar turned almost purple for this second. In the next trice, an energy-pulse of black and orange hues was emitted from Cecilia's body; strong enough to dissect Nidhogg's dark theurgy.
Before the Great Wyrm could recover from that abrupt action – or its side-effect in the shape of blinding light – his ability to dodge even under troublesome circumstances became questionable once a sword cut fast as a flash into his right forefoot. Aforesaid object, though, didn't resemble Erik's blade at all. Long- Almost too long for one hand to carry. Made of red and gold metal... Like an Excalibur Zeta; created with enormous spiritual force. Power which must be paralyzing for everything it hit. Nidhogg's roar filled with pain was at least confirmation enough for Midgardsormr's impression... Anyways, both ancient dragons stared now – just as their descendants plus the mortals – at the bearer of said weapon.
She was not anymore dressed in her snowy-owl-robe; was no longer an Astrologian.
Her white-golden hair flowed onto a somber, wine-red armor that covered her body but the head – material which could be easily mistaken for a steady lack of colors if there wouldn't have been this contrasting black cape with discreet star-constellations on it. Cecilia didn't look like a novice when she drove the shimmering blade in her possession even further into her enemy's flesh. Simultaneously, her eyes lay on Nidhogg's face – harsh and unforgiving, while the right hand's ironclad-fingers around the hilt were clenched in anger.
The wyrm growled wrathful with bared fangs, albeit his threat didn't frighten her. She even ignored the continuing combat of her comrades against the last Horde-members; so immense seemed her ire to be directed towards the true foe on this battlefield. There was a kind of fierce recklessness about the maiden which was entirely foreign to Midgardsormr, though his instincts told him to be glad about Cecilia's decision to spare the other dragons...
When she inhaled audible, 'Midge's' hair stood immediately on end.
"Happy now...?!" ,she quietly questioned with unusual aggression, "That's what you get for provoking a Paladin's and Valkyrie's daughter. Touch my friends and you'll regret it...!" Strange... These words; this attitude... Something about it felt familiar albeit Midgardsormr couldn't even tell why he had some kind of déjàvu...
Angered by this adamant will, Nidhogg hissed and spat fire at her, but it didn't reach the maiden thanks to a temporary, yet effective barrier she created by simply raising her free arm. Afterwards, Cecilia threw a purple beam with black highlights at the Great Wyrm; slapping him across the face. It was dark energy resembling Nidhogg's horrendous power, but possessed a beautiful holy aspect the Primogenitor found confusing. He had never seen such magic before; in his admittedly outmoded world-view, the Methuselah never expected these two elements to mix well...
For the Warrior's leader, however, this was the perfect chance to use.
Erik struck with all remaining force he had – ramming the axe into Nidhogg's ribcage. Tammy, Bertram and Carlos took in the same moment advantage on the anxiety demonstrated by the last Horde-members when their sire trembled; rendering them unconscious with precise moves of bow, sword and black-magic. Then – as Nidhogg was about to attack the 'siblings' – the three adventurers were instantly there to assist their friends.
Probably, the dark wyrm would easily have overpowered the humans even while they had inflicted so much damage on him, but Estinien's interference by using the Eye hindered him to move as fast as possible. This was the instant when Midgardsormr returned to his feet thanks to Annika's healing; still caring enough for the mortals to face his child even though both tired corpus and sour morales couldn't accept that decision.
He jumped to Cecilia's side – lightly leaning against her because of the exhaustion – and instinctively unleashed the group's combined forces alias Limit Break. His maiden touched 'Midge's' weapon with her free hand once the pure energy began to flow; holding the lance together with him as if she feared the undertaking would be too much for him to bear. And indeed...
The agonized scream of his son barely reached the Primogenitor's ears, because the almost uncontrollable power made his mortal shell nearly collapse thanks to its overwhelming pressure.
~C~
His lungs caved. Oxygen failed to reach his brain.
A victorious 'Hyur' – losing not against an enemy but his own corpus...
Because of that circumstance, Midgardsormr felt empathy for the beaten child, though his anger towards the vengeful son hadn't vanished. His vessel forced him to drop the lance plus go down to the knees as the disguised antiquity watched Nidhogg's own signs of weakness; listened to these pitiful noises his offspring made and beheld his bleeding wounds. For a Primogenitor, it was right to stop this drake no matter how cruel doing so might appear, but for the father he was in the very same instant, 'Midge' couldn't find comfort in the current moment...
With the Great Wyrm being weakened to an extent where he could barely draw breath, however, their battle came fortunately to a final standstill.
Estinien's relieved snorting made his 'Junior-Dragoon' slightly smile, although 'Midge' couldn't help but pant in minimal terror created by his unsettled instincts. Every cell he possessed was shaken by the mentally-straining combat before... This undignified position on the ground made the feeling even worse. For Midgardsormr, humans were remarkable to fight a Great Wyrm and the Horde with these vulnerable shapes, since he himself felt right now as helpless as a newborn dragonet...
He jerked when Cecilia abruptly moved.
She had been standing up to now like a statue next to him, but then the Raen slowly bent down in order to pick his weapon up. The way she did so was fairly different from her usual motions – reason for him or rather his instincts to be on highest alert. The maiden looked weary in a manner old soldiers without any sense for happiness do; her eyes appeared even dimmer than mortal irises normally were. There was an unspeakable sadness governing her motions as she returned the lance to its 'owner'; even more when she pulled her blade out of Nidhogg's bleeding forefoot. The wyrm's agonized grumble earned him a depressed gaze of the Au Ra.
While she helped 'Midge' up, the sunshiny Bertram congratulated her: "That was amazing, Ceci! The way you blocked and attacked Nidhogg with that special swordsman-power... You really must tell me, who your teacher is. I bet I could learn a few tricks from him." The coy- reserved smile her Roegadyn-ally had caused didn't reach Cecilia's eyes and died quickly down once her gaze wandered back to Nidhogg's injuries. "Well, I hope you haven't expected a fellow Paladin to let his daughter go to a different continent without being able to protect herself..." the maiden responded; sounding monotonous as if she was nearly upset about making use of her skills.
Annika helped Estinien to recover, yet wasn't too busy for asking: "Wasn't your outstanding father your personal teacher since the day your beloved mother had passed away?" "Yeah, that's right..." ,the Raen replied with a melancholic face, "His abilities – and with that my own – work a little bit differently than your standard, so I needed a sword to activate these powers for Eorzea as well... And Bertram, in case of your request... I don't know if you could so easily learn skills from my dad. That I was able to do so stems only from our blood-relation, since his abilities don't follow the path which yours have taken. You know... He calls himself an 'Eclipse-Paladin'."
"That fancy name means he's not completely on the light-elementary side, huh?" Erik concluded and stretched his arms unperturbed; visibly annoying Nidhogg who bared his fangs. Simultaneously, Cecilia nodded minimal. "The Dark Knight is very similar. You could say my father stands in the perfect middle between that job and Bertram's Paladin." Listening to her words, Carlos grudgingly lent his grand-cousin a hand to help the Azure Knight stand up, before also joining the conversation: "What about the magic you used to hit our enemy's face? I notice there some distinct resemblance to my own forces." "Dad calls it 'Neka'. And yes, it's quasi black-magic."
"It hurt Nidhogg a lot." ,Estinien noticed and stepped with visible exhaustion to the maiden, "Perhaps it would suffice to kill him." The growl rolling in the Great Wyrm's throat meant nothing to the man, but the maiden's gaze instantly drew his attention. Her eyes became more lively when she stared at him – disgust and disdain going hand in hand within the odd-colored windows to her soul. The querulent Elezen seemed fascinated by her irises when she told him with an ice-cold tune: "You know I refuse killing dragons. This counts even for your detested archenemy. I can't take somebody's life away who is just the victim of his own agony and wrath. … Slaying him would be the very same as taking your life with my own hands."
The Warriors looked guiltily at the ground – finding this example obviously as accurate as Midgardsormr himself did, who couldn't deny the characteristic affinity between his son and the elf. Said knight, in the meantime, sighed and stated: "You're the greatest irremediable softie I know..." Considering Nidhogg's borrowed eye from Hraesvelgr, he thought the same thing, albeit the drake found malicious joy in her weakness, while Estinien commiserated with the maiden.
"Nobody said Ceci has to do it." Tammy hissed and put the hands onto her hips. Shrugging under the Miqo'te-Bard's angry eyes, the Azure Knight stated: "If I would truly want her to kill Nidhogg, I'd be a real fool. Have you forgotten, that – in this amusing troop – your mannerless leader and I are the ones who know her the longest? I'm aware her sensitive heart since the very beginning of the Warriors' participation in Ishgard's war... I saw with my very own eyes, that she won't kill dragons, yet does everything else necessary to protect the infirm. She walked around in Central Coerthas when others would only see an amateur-adventurer in her; even willing to use the weapons I prefer – only for keeping harm from innocent children away when magic alone didn't suffice to do so. … A pure-hearted Lancer like Cecilia is rarer than the most expensive metal."
'Midge' was surprised to hear that.
He hadn't even expected the maiden to care for this class at all...
Cecilia's gaze distracted the Methuselah. His maiden looked at Estinien as if he would have uttered something forbidden. The mixture of anger and sorrow in her irises was bewildering... Frightening... Before the disguised antiquity could do something to calm her, the Elezen suddenly put his right hand onto the Raen's shoulder.
"Your support back then was more than welcome, do you even know this?" ,the Azure Knight quietly inquired, "If not for you, who knows if I would still have been able to make another friend than Aymeric... And you reminded me of my little brother – so naive, yet determined... As if a part of my family had returned in just a different shape... You see... If my unborn sister would have been allowed to live, you could have fulfilled the role of her personal idol; her hero."
Everybody except for Nidhogg stared speechless at Estinien.
The Great Wyrm, though, chuckled in enjoyment- he was of course aware of every secret which not even the Dragoon's grand-cousin had heard about. This provocation found quickly a matching, spirited response. "My aunt was pregnant when that monster killed her?!" that Blackmage-Elezen shouted all of a sudden; tugging at his hat until the gear was removed – revealing his shocked mien. The dark dragon nodded and snickered louder as he beheld Carlos' terror.
Both elves were about to hit him as punishment for his malicious joy, but Erik was faster than them to silence their foe. "We'll see early enough who will be the one to take your life. Now keep quiet, you bastard!" the gruff Marauder said lowly; driving his axe deeper into Nidhogg's left shoulder before pulling it quickly out. The dragon's fangs failed to bite his head, though the closeness to these sharp edges didn't bother the Hyur in the first place.
Estinien wanted to give maybe a snarky comment, yet no words escaped his mouth when suddenly the Au Ra took his hands. "You were meant to... have a sister...?" she asked nearly soundless; staring doleful at the Elezen's armored palms. A soft smile flitted over his thin lips when he replied: "Aye... The Astrologians never failed in predicting a gender before... That's why... part of me couldn't help but getting accustomed to the thought of treating you just like the little sister I never got to meet... Since... Well, you're at times an elfish girl – and so awfully stubborn; exactly like me. How could I not see a sibling in you..."
She looked up to Estinien's face while immense sadness spread over her own.
A tear glistened in the crystal... Rolled over her lashes...
With his right hand and despite the metal around it, the stoic knight softly pushed the drop away; caressing her cheek afterwards. "There must be something exceptional about you, which allows even a true pacifist to be so unspeakable powerful... Despite the denial of all murderous intentions towards dragons... you are marvelous..." the Elezen whispered – leaning down to her face.
Nidhogg's devilish laughter interrupted the moment.
"It is indeed a shame that I was unable to manipulate her." ,the wyrm noticed with a sardonic pitch, "She would have been a splendid tool to use... After all, she is the perfect key to open the lock of thy self-control, Dragoon. But nobody would condemn thee for that... After all... She is something very special, is she not? The very first of her kind in history... A second Azure Knight."
~C~
Midgardsormr coughed.
Was this a lie? Of course it must be one, right...?
Looking clueless around, Bertram, Tammy and Annika were as confused as 'Midge' was. But Erik and Carlos gazed knowingly at Estinien, whose pained expression was visible despite his helmet. Underneath the black metal, the elf beheld with worried eyes, how Cecilia's face became a mask of coldest fury. She let go of Estinien's hand; clenching hers to trembling fists.
"They weren't supposed to know that." she whispered irate.
His girl... was in fact a Dragoon? Even a chosen bearer... of Nidhogg's eye? This was... true...?
Somewhere, deep inside of him... His draconic rancour awakened.
As if the dark wyrm could hear Midgardsormr's mental overload, he laughed muted – enormous satisfaction glimmered in the borrowed eyeball. For the son drenched in endless hatred and scorn, perhaps this moment – to shaken his father's thin-skinned trust into humankind – was a big success. And albeit the Primogenitor hated to think like this... a part of him sided with his child.
Had the Methuselah not still possessed some superior senses, he might have missed it... But the way he just happened to be in this mortal vessel, 'Midge' could hear how the maiden ground her teeth. Then – without a warning – she thrust her weapon into Nidhogg's right wing; driving the sword close to the shoulder-blade into his flesh. While the drake roared, blood sprinkled onto the floor and even reached Cecilia's face to leave red tears on her skin as she pushed the metal further.
There was horror in the eyes of all mortals to watch this moment.
But for none of them could it mean as much agony as for Midgardsormr himself.
The Primogenitor felt like being stabbed as well; his heart hammered in his chest as if it was going to bleed dry. While his hand shakily grabbed the hurting chest, the maiden said muted: "I may not be able to kill you, but I still can take your wings and legs away, if I have to. Do not underestimate my readiness to be cruel... I know my former life has suffered under some committed sins, which is why I want to respect my soul's old wishes... And my father can also not watch a dragon's suffering, whereby I really wish to spare your life. Yet... I can't forgive, that you told my nescient friends something that wasn't your right to share with them... I refuse the title; I refuse to be addressed and treated like an Azure Dragoon. And you have to accept my will!"
The Great Wyrm roared and fired a dark beam with his last strength at her; wishing with all might to destroy this archmage alias swordswoman.
His energy couldn't erase the Raen, since she shielded herself like before just in time, but the force harmed her body even through the barrier. She squinted the lids in pain; her limbs visibly spasmed. Afterwards, a cough accompanied by drops of suspicious red liquid made one of her closest friends irate enough to ignore the girl's wish plus punish their enemy for going that far. Estinien jumped onto the dragon and – with a face full of hatred – did what he had always wanted to do...
He killed Nidhogg.
Eyes widened, Midgardsormr watched.
Watched, when the blood of his child discolored Estinien's entire armor into a scarlet hue. Beheld, how his son's body lost all signs of life – turning just as Tioman's corpus before at Sohm Al's peek into wisps of black dust; leaving not even bones or claws behind when the borrowed eyeball landed on the ground.
The pain in his tightening heart was indescribable. The abyss of all the losses caused by mankind threatened to swallow him whole. Had he been his old self – the wild dragon not bound to Hydaelyn – he might have ripped now Estinien's heart out plus crashed it underneath his powerful talon.
But the contract kept him in invisible chains; held his wrath down and forced him to endure.
And once the first seconds of annihilating distress had passed, the Primogenitor knew- remembered, that it wasn't his right to punish this man. There hadn't existed a way to stop Nidhogg; no possibility to peacefully end the Dragonsong War. With Estinien's decision to shoulder this overwhelming sin, he might have declared himself to be the greatest foe of the Horde, yet had given all the other dragons a chance for a future without men continuously slaughtering them.
This sacrifice... could be the last one his descendants had to make. However...
It wasn't entirely over. Something in the air was off...
The Primogenitor couldn't believe, that Nidhogg's spirit would already rest. The mind of his son – consumed by vengefulness as it was – wouldn't leave this world so easily behind. There was proof for this theory... The child's physical essence of magic and power lay still in his glowing Eye which the Azure Knight held. An object resonating with raw force. So, in other words, Nidhogg's soul had most probably taken shelter in the remaining corpus-part he owned.
Midgardsormr would instantly have examined the orb at close range in order to prove his theory, but got distracted by the maiden in this very moment. He felt, how his seal of her gift broke once again a little bit. Although that phrase didn't describe it correctly... She had meanwhile slackened more than half of his claw. And seemingly, a very important ability had right now returned to her – the Echo itself; the power to take a glimpse at the past.
Once the obviously melancholic girl touched Nidhogg's 'remnant' alias the borrowed eye in order to pick it up, the way her irises flickered informed the Primogenitor about her progress. Made him see, how much she already overcame the obstacle his original test of her character had meant.
"A vision, huh? What did you witness?" her personal brother asked nonchalant, though Erik surely was aware which kind of event must have been triggered for a chosen child by grabbing this object. The Raen slightly shook her head; pushing tears from her face that Midgardsormr clearly identified as signs of her overwhelming compassion despite his burning rancour which demanded from him to ignore said softness. She had definitely trouble to muster the strength to talk...
Cecilia inhaled two times before she finally spoke: "I beheld a conversation between the survivors of the day when Nidhogg had tried to revenge his sister... Haldrath decided to abandon the crown in favor of becoming a Dragoon – to shield the people who would now suffer under the vengeance of dragon-kind. But not all of the other remaining knights shared his good will. They wanted to sugarcoat the truth. For them, it was much more comfortable to turn the dragons into the bad guys instead of being honest with what thy had just done. Even more... Only four of them were willing to create a construct of lies, so they damned those who wouldn't follow their example of rulership. … All poor and homeless in Ishgard? They are of noble blood as well. The ancestors of the current royal families have betrayed their own comrades, which is the entire reason for the huge gape between the inhabitants of both Foundation and Pillars today."
Oh what novelty for all present mortals who weren't the gruff Marauder...
Carlos and Estinien made big eyes; the former reluctantly questioned: "Do you think I'll be able to see that as well when I touch Nidhogg's remnant?" "Depends... Although this yellow thing here does not belong to him." she replied and offered mentioned orb to the Blackmage-Elezen. Ah yes... Humans didn't know that... "What is this supposed to- Ah... I see... Haldrath had taken BOTH eyes of the wyrm." the elf mumbled although his gaze was still caught in the vision. Midgardsormr was impressed by Carlos' self-control – at the most while his own was pretty close to falling apart.
The other Warriors were now eager to touch the citrine-eye as well, albeit Erik did of course only mime the surprise to take a glimpse at that day. Once they were more or less mentally present again, the Azure Knight impatiently asked: "Could you finally enlighten Midge and me, what you 'sublime seers' have discovered? It doesn't feel good to be left out without a proper explanation, you know?" Cecilia grabbed the eyeball and put it into the Elezen's right hand before stating: "Can you imagine, that Nidhogg would have possessed Heterochromia just like me? Or are you convinced, that his second eye would have the same blood-red color just as the one you carry all time around?"
Raising the brows, the Dragoon reflected for a moment on this matter. "Heterochromia...? No... When I hold this yellow orb here, I'm sure that Nidhogg's second eye can't be this one in my hand. Plus, that specific, evil energy is missing. But... To whom belongs it now? Do you mean it's...?" "Hraesvelgr's? Most probably, yes." ,Tammy joined the conversation, "And while Nidhogg was seemingly depending on his brother's help, Ishgard used both energy-sources they had stolen from the dark wyrm to strengthen their army."
"Maybe not both... As much as my cousin and I are able to track down the past, there are no manuscripts that mention a second Eye." the Blackmage-Elezen recognized. "Well, anyways... Aymeric will be very interested to hear what you have seen now. Once we're back in the Holy City, you must describe your vision as detailed as possible for him. However..." ,the Azure Knight paused and gave the citrine-eye back to Cecilia, "At first, we should visit that grumpy dog of a dragon for one last time. If this orb belongs to him, we should return it before leaving the Churning Mists."
When the troop was about to use a group-teleport to Zenith's Aetheryte, Midgardsormr quickly focused his senses on the Eye. If there was anything remaining of his offspring's soul, then he wouldn't be able to easily detect that outside of the Aery. After all, a dragon's lair strengthened even the weakest draconic spark due to the atmosphere's matching aether...
Right before his corpus got transported away, the disguised Primogenitor shed a tear.
That, what was left of his child, was compared to once only a mere shadow.
~C~
Anger boiled underneath the depressed facade.
Hraesvelgr's supernatural connection to the body-part he had given away one-thousand years ago was as steady as if his eye had just been plugged out from his face. Thus, experiencing only several moments before the physical death of his brother made him not less irate than Midgardsormr, albeit Shiva's influence kept the Great Wyrm in similar chains like Hydaelyn's pact held the Primogenitor in check. It was admittedly shameful, that the sensitive son didn't succumb to the terror and attack the mortals, but on the other hand his presence alone was enough to unsettle almost all of them in these abandoned temple-ruins...
Cecilia, of course, was different.
She hesitated not at all to approach Hraesvelgr and offer the yellow orb to him, although his low growl was a warning even Erik seemed to take serious despite his knowledge of the time-flow. Yet, the still armored maiden didn't flinch and cared above all to grant her doubter an emphatic smile, which let the animalistic tunes fall silent. Head sunken to match her height, the dragon begrudgingly accepted, that a human brought his missing eyeball back, though he definitely found her light touch disgusting when she softly placed the eye into its rightful socket.
Well... Who would judge him for that... This girl had hurt his brother in similar cruel manner like simply all the other mortals before had done. It was Hraesvelgr's right to be wrathful. However...
Once unwilling relaxation spread over the dragon's face due to having his missing body-part back, he mildened his gaze at the Raen. Yes... Just like his father, this wyrm knew, which kind of torture Nidhogg had viciously put her through. None could condemn Cecilia for losing control as a result. She was still the one girl who had not taken a single draconic life. And other, than Midgardsormr, the white drake had no second reason to isochronal detest her on a personal level...
Forcefully, the Primogenitor pushed the knowledge of her identity as an Azure Dragoon back into his subconsciousness. This had to wait... Needed to wait... He didn't know how much anger would become unleashed if he dared to let for a single second go of his self-control. There should better be no risks in shape of mortal bystanders around...
When Hraesvelgr leaned his head away in order to examine the whole group, the Warriors of Light had abruptly another vision. Considering their faces, it must be another mind-blowing scene... Pathetic in the eyes of the Primogenitor, who despised Erik's admittedly well play-acting.
"I feel it... Thou could watch my memory..." the Great Wyrm noticed.
When Cecilia nodded, a small smile glided over Hraesvelgr's maw. The expression of her face pleased him visibly; the maiden's altruism was surely refreshing for his depressed heart. Though, Annika didn't share mentioned empathy: "Oh dear, so it was indeed you who allowed him to live on despite the loss of his own eyes. You prevented him from dying." As she spoke, displeasure spread over the Lalafell's mien – something that rarely happened as long as Carlos wasn't the reason for her dropping mood.
Countenanced by her words, Estinien grumbled: "That was Haldrath's only mistake on that day... Expecting Nidhogg to die without possessing eyes was foolish. He should have killed him." Hraesvelgr hissed agitated. "Tsk, 'should', 'should'... Many things have happened that shouldn't have occurred in the first place. Maybe Nidhogg should have killed THY hero? When he dragged himself to me and demanded one of my eyes, I gave it to him because that was the least I could do."
Carlos suddenly protested with unusual passion: "You gave it to him while knowing what he would do next?! What about the war; what about the endless suffering for my relatives?! To whitewash your talons, you have shed the blood of thousands of innocent humans!" Hraeasvelgr closed his lids accompanied by a soft snort. "The peace my beloved Shiva wished for was destroyed by thy people. Thy betrayal started the war." ,opening the eyes and roaring, he added with an abrupt explosion of his temper even more furious words, "Ratatoskr's murder made Nidhogg insane. Thou want to justify that sin?! THOU want to teach ME morales?! THY greed is was started it all!"
… … …
Silence fell upon the humans, but the Great Wyrm wasn't done yet with accusing them, though his crestfallen mind returned to its usual condition with a strong lack of liveliness. "My opinion about thy people cannot be changed anymore. I have given up all hope for thee. Shiva was the only angel under all these sinners that mankind means – and therefore, none of thee deserves now any mercy by my brother's remaining brood."
Midgardsormr's pride experienced a pang.
Above all, his heart clenched as HIS Cecilia had been indirectly insulted by his son.
Surely the Methuselah might wish to rip the Raen apart for concealing something very important from him, but that was something he wouldn't allow anybody else; not even the beloved child in front of him. With his psyche being currently in a state of clear instability, he was unable to control the tsunami of anger anymore. Humans couldn't be treated like equal immortals – this was the only sane motion of tranquility his stormy sentiments allowed.
Enraged, 'Midge' stepped forward. His voice wasn't loud, but the words were as sharp as a blade: "Thou cannot speak like that about unillumined people who are not even in charge for the doings of their ancestors! Thou CANNOT judge them for actions they have not even committed!"
His eyes glowed. Glowed like fire. Normally, Midgardsormr tried to keep the shine down in every occasion that would make him suspicious, but right now he didn't care for that. On the contrary, Erik considered this action obviously as a bad decision – his low 'Oh-oh...' lacked the regular reckless- plus carefreeness said man demonstrated. Hraesvelgr was of course also appalled by this crimson light in the 'Hyur's' irises and made a step backwards; uncovering these sharp fangs as an immediate warning.
With a kind of nervousness in the angered voice, that normal mortals couldn't even recognize, the Primogenitor's child skeptically questioned: "Who art thou? Why dost thou bear draconic force?" Appeased by the intimidating effect he had on his son, 'Midge' couldn't suppress the sad smile which conquered his lips. Feeling empathy for his poor son quietened the anger – at least on a temporarily level. While the red in his eyes returned to their 'normal' dim state, Estinien jumped to the 'Hyur's' side; grabbing the Gae Bolg in serious, protective manner. "Don't even think about harming my Junior-Dragoon. He's just another pacifist who can't kill you creatures. But if you want to slay somebody capable of erasing you, I'm the one you're looking for."
"...Thy scarlet armor is an insult to my kind." the Great Wyrm noticed tired and relaxed a little thanks to the Elezen's snarky remark. Nevertheless still scrutinizing the suspicious 'Midlander', Hraesvelgr seemed undecided whether or not he should investigate on these unusual humane irises. Yet, his decision to leave the group was notwithstanding an unchangeable fact.
When the white dragon spread his wings, Cecilia asked muted: "Are you really fine to be alone? Fine with being lonely...? Don't you want to live again with other creatures...?" Surprised, Hraesvelgr stared at her – most probably realizing for the very first time, that his brother's ambitions to break her will hadn't been only the nature of a twisted mind or malicious game. She would have been indeed a good pawn; a good means to an end... Her care for dragons should have sufficed to turn her against humankind... However, the reason for seeking control over this human child was another motivation than simple weapon-gathering...
She should fight on the side of those who she didn't want to kill. As a last living remnant of the era when humans weren't the enemies of dragons. That was, after all, something Midgardsormr had understood in the moment his vengeful son made one last attempt to convince or rather force her... In some way, Nidhogg saw in Cecilia a trophy. One he wished to use against the hated Holy City, but also one he wanted to keep as his own to remind mankind of the sin they had committed. Burning down all men would be his greatest joy, while this one faithful flower would never dare to slay him – just as he wouldn't destroy her as long as she swore him loyalty. Indeed... A trusting, emphatic flower, that was above all connected to draconic force.
The bare imagination of that scenery disgusted the Primogenitor to the deepest core...
Albeit he didn't know, who of the two protagonists was making him madder...
Meanwhile, the white dragon furrowed his brows and let the long tail softly lash over the floor whilst he reflected on an answer to the maiden's question.
"I have told thee before, that I only wait for oblivion to embrace my hopeless self..." ,he mumbled, "Reclusion does not mean anything to me." "This sounds like you're lying to yourself." the girl said and cautiously reached out for Hraesvelgr. The Great Wyrm jerked a little because of her intention, but then unwillingly allowed Cecilia to touch his left leg. In the moment her fingers contacted him, she switched back to her Astrologian-class; bare skin instead of hard metal softly caressing subsequent the ancient limb.
A half-hearted growl rolled in Hraesvelgr's throat.
Midgardsormr knew his son didn't want to feel any kind of sympathy towards mortals anymore, hence the disguised Methuselah pulled the Au Ra's hand back before her compassion might manipulate his child. Although it was more likely, that the Great Wyrm would sooner or later snap her arm – an action the Primogenitor himself wanted to undertake... His fingers mimed that suppressed wish when they squeezed her wrist too tightly; scrapes created by his tense nails were left on her flesh when 'Midge' let go.
"Farewell, strange humans." the white dragon said and rose into the air – citrine-eyes examining for one last time the Raen as well as the 'Midlander' next to her – before he gave a melancholic roar to announce his departure.
~C~
Aymeric clenched his armored hands to fists; making a suspicious noise on that office-table.
The Lord Commander of the Temple-knights had of course heard earlier, which kind of truth Ishgard's sworn enemies believed in... But now – with the knowledge of everything being irrevocably an accurate fact – the Elezen had visible trouble to stomach these 'novelties'. Furthermore, his worldview needed to endure another huge blow when the Warriors informed him of the heritage each inhabitant within the city's stonewalls possessed.
"This is... Forgive me, words fail me right now..." the elf mumbled and leaned backwards against his chair. Untouched by the general depressed mood, Estinien shrugged before giving a common, stoic comment: "Did you really expect something else when we asked to see you in this early night? If our troop had only slayed Nidhogg without any other achievements, we wouldn't bother you with our presence."
Slightly shaking the head, Aymeric closed his eyes. "I always sensed our nation wouldn't entirely fulfill the prestige- the picture our ancestors wanted us to continue drawing... There was something simply off – I felt it deep down. But... This is much more than I could ever have imagined. … All of us are descendants of Haldrath's noble companions... And we truly have given the dragons each and every right in the world to hate us... Knowing these things- It feels like... every single brick of the Holy City crashes down onto my head."
A grim smile graced 'Midge's' otherwise motionless expression.
Yes, such awful feelings... This cruel wisdom... For a sensitive human raised by Ishgard's believes, it must be a painful experience to see everything one had clung to since the very first breath shatter into pieces. The father of dragon-kind held true empathy for the Lord Commander in his heart, even though that terrible humor of an ancient creature and bitterness about his childrens' suffering mixed with deep-rooted anger towards Cecilia's secret didn't allow further concentration on that topic.
His own storm of sentiments needed to be held down – at least a little longer...
So, becoming sentimental was a no-go.
"What do you want to do now, Aymeric?" ,the Azure Knight casually asked and began to pace through the room, "Are you going to spread the word of Ishgard's falsehoods?" A weary sigh left mentioned Elezen's mouth. One which revealed immense weight on his shoulders. Then, he opened his lids again in order to look at the Dragoon in blood-red metal as well as the adventurers. "A part of me wants to do exactly that. It wants to scream from the rooftops, what our ancestors have done to ourselves. To the dragons. A part of me can't live with supporting such a city of lies."
Erik folded the arms in this moment; looking no longer like an ignorant wielder of the battle-axe, but like a man capable of being entirely consumed by anxiety. However, his more and more serious expression within the steel-eyes revealed a nearly frightening kind of determination. "The other part of you is afraid, isn't it? You don't know, how your father might react to this story – in case it does surprise him, that is." the Hyur uttered with a slightly aggressive pitch in the voice. While Aymeric stared bewildered at Erik, Carlos bluntly asked: "You're implying the Archbishop alias Pope is aware of the true history our ancestors have hidden?" "Wouldn't be too absurd if that was the case." the Azure Knight stated before his gruff comrade could respond.
With a guilty mien, Aymeric let his fingers out of the tense position on the timber and mumbled: "Sadly, I share Estinien's opinion... My friends, I fear I will need a few hours for deciding how to approach this matter..." "Won't that be dangerous? The Pope doesn't seem like the nicest guy once somebody isn't on his side." the Roegadyn-Paladin noticed and looked gloomily at his companions. Bertram's worry was initially infectious, yet didn't blur the general wish for supporting a comrade. Tammy made a step forward and lightly patted Aymeric's right arm. "Whether you decide to talk to your father or not... Whether you want to spread the truth or not... We will not abandon Ishgard. That's a promise." the motherly Miqo'te-Bard hummed.
Following, the Lord Commander stared shyly at the group when each Warrior put their right hand onto his own as a silent vow. Even Estinien and 'Midge' joined the gesture, although the later didn't feel like being the right person for comforting another creature in the current situation.
No inhabitant of the Holy City could obtain pure sympathy without skepticism from him as long as there was no peace between their races. He wasn't able to give entirely in to the pity in his heart although the knight deserved more than just a simple action... Above all... Standing close to Cecilia made the dragon's stomach stir in harmful manner; made his fingers twitch even though they barely touched her skin. This circumstance ruined Midgardsormr's mood, additionally, thus the suppressed wrath ate away at his more considerate feelings.
After a short instant, they let go of Aymeric – all but Erik.
Confused cyan-eyes studied the Midlander as a result to gentle squeezing; behavior not matching the Warrior's decision to keep others on distance. A mild grin glided over Erik's lips when he said: "Exceptions proof the value of rules. After all, one cherishes special things more than normality, no? … I know you'll choose in the end the right path. Take as much time as you need to come up with your personal plan to follow. We're there when you need us."
Aymeric blushed a little before temporary gratefulness conquered his desperate mien. "Thank you... This means a lot to me." the elf admitted before he visibly returned the cordial grip. Erik laughed thereupon like a cheeky boy; forgetting maybe for a moment, that this wasn't the exact same Lord he obviously used to adore in his parallel Eorzea... There was warmth in his eyes not even Cecilia as his personal sister had ever earned from him.
But once implied knowledge returned to the gruff man's mind, the small levity or rather freedom in his face died gradually down. He firmly squeezed Aymeric's hand one last time and let gently go; cold determination mixed with lively optimism conquered his eyes.
"It's our job to help. More than that: We have decided long ago, that our fate is the one of our allies. So, you better appreciate us. Because we could also become the nails in your coffin if you're not grateful enough in our opinion." the leader of the Warriors declared with a pretended smug smile. Chuckling, Aymeric shook his head: "Hehe, do not worry... I really am appreciative of everything you do for us. Thank you, my friends."
As the Warriors and even Estinien gave their comrade a gentle smile, the Primogenitor felt a wave of desperation threatening to consume him. That these sentimental humans had such effect on him – an ancient furuncle – was almost the greatest shame he could ever have imagined... But ironically, the true disgrace, sin or whatever word might be fitting to describe the actual bane of his existence... was focused on a single being. Why, Her grace, just why... A mortal's secret should not mean anything to him. It should mean NOTHING to him. And yet...
While his companions conversed with the Lord Commander, their combined feelings had still not the same weight within his heart than the rage he barely was able to throttle.
~C~
Just a bit longer... A little bit longer...
Deep inside of him, he felt like a ticking time-bomb.
Leaving the Temple-knights' headquarter after two hours had passed was similar to moving away from his last drops of self-control. Each step bringing him closer to the tavern resembled a nail stinging relentless into his heart. He couldn't tell, how the Warriors, Estinien and Aymeric had unknowingly managed to keep his anger on the lowest possible level, but as the adventurers returned now for resting purposes to the guesthouse, 'Midge' clearly knew that the deadline was exceeded in the very second his feet stepped into the building.
There were too many thoughts clawing into his awareness...
Hah... What irony...
While Aymeric had to struggle this night with himself... All humane believes and general morales clashing in order to determine... whether or not spreading the truth about the Dragon-song War was the right decision... Midgardsormr was also going to fight against his own demons.
The loss of his son hurt, even though Nidhogg's spirit or rather its remnant had taken shelter within the Eye in Estinien's possession. Having witnessed the 'death' of another child was a good reason to abandon his morales; to go insane. The faces of countless lifeless grandchildren reminded him of the terror he failed to strive against. So many lives had suffered and were even still suffering, just because their very first relative hadn't eliminated the origin of their shared agony... Mankind once took everything away from them that was essential for the species' survival – something like that couldn't occur ever again. Just thinking about that was endangering his state of mind.
On the other hand, the one who truly had decided to do nothing about the general draconic misery was nobody else than Hraesvelgr. Although the father of dragon-kind didn't condemn his son for feeling helpless plus petrified deep inside of the soul, he was slowly but surely fed up with the way how the white wyrm lamented the past while blaming innocent people for everything that had happened. Humans had indeed done many cruel things to their race, yet there were also those who wanted to make peace with them. Not only heretics who happened to fall for Nidhogg's temptation, but also such beings like the adventurers and their allies. Odd, pure humans with a good heart. Hraesvelgr's arrogance blinded the child to the extend where he wasn't even able to see the blossoming hope- a fact that tore at Midgardsormr's sanity. A circumstance that filled him up with frustration as well as bitterness.
But what ultimately threatened to push him over the edge of his mental limits was that betrayal... That secret. The fact that Cecilia was another Azure Knight.
How could she dare to have such secret in front of him...?
He trusted her – lay to her feet whatever she wanted to know from him! Albeit the Methuselah understood each individual's right to keep information for oneself and wouldn't want to handle that any other way, this one topic was something he had deserved to be informed of! Had she told him, he would not have judged her; not condemned the title! But hiding this knowledge from him felt like a dagger in his chest... A proof, that she didn't trust him the way he blindly followed her...
The disguised father of dragon-kind went straight into the direction of that room the adventurers had reserved for him; followed by the maiden. Erik's worried remark behind them reached the dragon's ears despite the loudly pulsating blood in his veins with more than enough distinctiveness: "Trouble in paradise, Midge? Shall I hold Ceci back to give you a little bit space for the time being? Or do you rather want me to mime a mediator for you two?"
He would have loved to snap the Marauder's throat and bite through the windpipe... Enjoyed to make the Hyur realize by force, that this ancient wyrm here wasn't the one he used to affectionately call 'gramps'... Fortunately, the Au Ra – more or less – did that in verbal manner for Midgardsormr: "Not the right timing for insensitive encouragement-attempts, brother. You better keep a bit distance – things could become pretty ugly now."
It was admittedly a relief to not have to explain the mere existence of his bad mood for her...
And with Erik obeying to Cecilia's order, 'Midge' found the indirect escape through the corridor minimal easier than silently enduring his inner tsunami these two hours ago. Reaching the door to his room and opening it, though, he still wasn't glad about her intransigence. The Raen might not be close enough to touch him, but her bare presence had a choking effect on him...
"Wait a moment." she demanded when the disguised antiquity was about to enter the chamber. Midgardsormr tried to ignore Cecilia, since doing so might suffice to get rid of her company. Thanks to this manifest conclusion he moved his feet wordless. Unfortunately, a moment like this must be an instant in which the Au Ra likewise couldn't control herself anymore...
She immediately grabbed his shoulders and forcefully turned him around in a manner which lacked both her usual compassion as well as politeness. Moreover, held him in place with an usurping grip. For that impudence alone, 'Midge's' eyes gave the girl an accusing expression in bright crimson. Cecilia beheld this result of her action with a mixture of both sorrow and concern, yet failed afterwards to soften the boiling wrath within the Primogenitor. She didn't say anything...
Midgardsormr barely hindered himself from slapping her face when he realized she fell silent due to the intimidating stare of his glowing irises. How dared she to fear him...
"What do you want? Make it quick..." he hissed short-spoken; needing a final collapse so urgently, that his willingness to become violent reached a dangerous level. The maiden frowned and eventually explained: "I don't understand your behavior. At first you fight against Nidhogg as well as your grandchildren under his command... Then you confront Hraesvelgr – side with us instead of your kind. And last but not least, you suddenly sulk and speak no word! What's wrong with you?! What is the exact reason for you to endlessly switch your prevalent emotion...?"
Her accusation made him clench his fists. "This doesn't concern you." he replied with a stern tune and tried to get her hands from his vessel with abrupt motions.
Shaking her head, the maiden gripped his shoulders even tighter. "Talk to me instead of suppressing your anger or anxiety! I'm here; you're not alone with your thoughts!" she said, yet couldn't reach his heart that was consumed by chaos. 'Midge' impatiently hit these smooth hands several times with the intention to hurt the Raen, thus she finally let go of him when her skin gradually turned red and appeared slightly swollen.
He used the chance to step into his room. Cecilia instantly tried to catch up – she really didn't want him to be alone – but he couldn't bear her pity right now. So, the old dragon moved as quick as a flash and locked her out of his chamber – being unable to endure the presence of a mortal no matter how dear she was to him... As his hand still lay on the doorknob, she begged through the barrier between them: "Please, don't do that! Don't refuse help! It won't help you to hide everything which burdens you from the rest of the world! You're only going to suffer more...!"
Her hand hammered twice against the wood. A noise provoking him even more. Teeth grinding until they made an audible protest, his fingers simultaneously scratched the metal to the point where striking marks became visible. His voice was hushed and sounded entirely foreign to him, but it was notwithstanding his mouth which said these poisonous words: "Leave me alone, AZURE KNIGHT. I won't accept ANY support of THEE. And I am sick of all THY secrets. THOU hast done enough to injure me UNFORGIVABLE."
"Midgardsormr..."
Cecilia's whisper hurt. Another thorn stinging deep into his heart...
However, he couldn't undo what he had done, whereby 'Midge' simply listened when she slowly walked away. It was all too much for him... All the feelings – all the sentiments threatened to rip him apart. He was torn between the fractions, yet even more because of the question how to handle the indirect betrayal of his maiden.
When Midgardsormr lay down on his bed – pyjama with last mental strength put onto the disguise because of his humane habits – he curled up into a circle underneath the blanket; arms entangled around the shaking legs. The unstoppable pain in his chest was unbearable, although it couldn't cause a single tear to leave his burning eyes. The ancient dragon felt dry inside – dry and lifeless... and without any hope left.
For an absurd reason, Cecilia's secret hurt him just as Ratatoskr's murder...
~C~
He dreamed. Although...
The knowledge about the illusion being one was only marginally present in his mind.
The falsehood- No... The MEMORY consumed him entirely...
Midgardsormr was the wild drake bursting with vigour he had used to be. A deity amongst his kind – on the run from a dangerous opponent created by men who sought for purest draconic power.
They had destroyed his planet to the point where inhabiting the surface was impossible; a wasteland which could never be populated again. These mortals had murdered just for tactical purpose every other living being- every plant, animal and even dragon. All his descendants – no matter how old they were – had been killed by humans. His children, his grandchildren, his mate...
The Primogenitor would have returned every distress in his body. Had sought for compensation of his pain due to making the enemies suffer. He would have traveled to their own planet and burned it entirely down. Ripped everything apart that dared to survive the massacre.
But... he couldn't take revenge. Not now, not like this.
Flying through the colorful, yet ice-cold space between all these countless stars that wouldn't suffice to grant him shelter, his heart's desperation grew larger. There was nothing left from his home. Nothing. Nothing but the unborn lives he carried. The only children; the last family that was left. Seven eggs – fragile and yet hidden within himself, but soon developed enough to fit no longer into the 'physical embrace' of their father. Those poor children, who were later on Hydaelyn known as the First Brood... Who were ironically the last descendants sired by his very body... And who were... not completely whom they should have been.
In truth, he had primarily wished for them to be related by blood to BOTH their destined parents. To the one being meant to be their legitimate mother...
His counterpart had been a pretty, yet ordinary dragoness. Once she was compared to him, nothing special would have been visible considering her powers. But as she – since their very first encounter – acted very charming, offered him to be his personal possession without any egoistical thoughts and never expressed the slightest signs of fear towards the god-like Primogenitor, he gave her in the course of time a chance. Soon, Midgardsormr wholeheartedly enjoyed her companionship and kept the dragoness close; her choice to solely serve him was flattering his gentleness while her playful plus loving nature satisfied his ego. He might not have fallen head over heels for her like mortals do for each other, but she was a part of him; his second half.
Therefore, he had always been able to perfectly predict the next time it was possible to sire children with her. Had seen in the following millennia many descendants sharing his and her genes. Grandchildren of several generations who called them both their grandparents. But unfortunately... The death of his dear partner negated the hope to turn his next- last children into hers as well.
Grave wounds were inflicted upon her for protecting the youngest dragonets of their entire family. Midgardsormr hadn't been with the brood as he himself fought against the alien humans as well as their horrible machine created to analyze and defeat him, so he couldn't support her. When he finally managed to reach his mate, she succumbed to the bleeding – her last breath tore his sanity in this very moment apart.
Thanks to said tragedy, the father of dragon-kind had been alone when that specific season began; right in the middle of a war. Mentally injured by the loss of his beloved one and physically impaired due to the constant combating, it had hurt his mind and body to feel the eggs grow nevertheless. Part of him was cursing plus denying their existence – he didn't want them in his life when no blood of his dearest flowed through their veins... But a fortiori his family and planet were annihilated by dreadful mortal hands, the more he had treasured these little wonders within his shell.
Yes, miracles... For an unknown reason, his kind was able to reproduce with and without a mate. That was, why he had to make sure this gift wasn't wasted. His unborn children were the only ones he could still save when he left his home – who meant everything to him; more than his own life. This was the reason, why it didn't matter to him what could happen to his body, if just his precious dragonets would be save and sound. Would be able to live...
His ambition, though, was utterly restricted by several dispiriting facts. Midgardsormr was aware of the oncoming necessity for a sanctuary to let them out – let them hatch, but no matter how far away he already was from his destroyed Dragonstar, there seemed to exist not a single foreign planet with an atmosphere eligible to keep his kind alive. Moreover, the enemy's creation was still chasing him; he felt this with every single fiber of his existence. The machine named Omega was programmed to never give up on its target. It would follow him even if the two of them deceased in the process.
And last but not least...
As the journey continued, his body lost noticeable strength. The golden scales became brittle while they turned dark, these flames on his long neck died ultimately out and even the bright, yellow light of his eyes became weaker until their true, red color was revealed. Everything that made the drake's appearance threatening plus powerful got ruined by the lack of warmth and oxygen.
Eternities later, the Primogenitor didn't know anymore, how long his endless search already lasted – he had lost track of everything. The only way to measure time were the progressing signs of physical decay... Those that weren't visible, yet all the more troublesome...
His digestive-system protested to have no food to handle, his brain plus reserves demanded urgently needed rest... and his stomach hurt because of the pressure to still carry the eggs within his flesh.
The god-like wyrm of once had turned into a pathetic wreck.
Pausing all movements, his powerless body trembled like an earthquake.
Sour taste spread in his maw – mixed with blood... The deadly environment was taking its tribute... But if he failed to endure- failed to find shelter, his unborn children would die...! The muscles of both stomach and lower part of the body clenched painful once his mind imagined this scenario. Survival was for hatchlings in this area impossible. No matter, how resistant their father's genes might be. A newborn would quickly pass away here; unimportant if the egg was exposed to space or rested within a deceased parent...
When he was close to losing his last reserves – almost breaking apart under desperation, helplessness and agony – his eyes discovered suddenly a wonder which left him entirely breathless.
It was white. It was beautiful. It was perfection.
The creature was like an angel who had deigned to become one of his kind.
A deity that happened to be even brighter than the stars albeit its body didn't shine. A soul which emitted purest power far beyond any understanding. With eyes so blue and clear like crystal; drowning in light-blue scleras. Their- HIS piercing gaze was filled with comprehensive wisdom. As if he needed just one look at Midgardsormr in order to know everything... And when his voice – his suggestion to follow him – reached the Primogenitor's fin-like ears, mentioned tune was by far the most charming sound the later had ever listened to.
For the very first time in his long life, Midgardsormr didn't need a while for developing that certain, non-parental affection directed towards another being. Furthermore, the emotion was much more intense- more consuming than anything else he had known prior to this.
The sentiment, which conquered his chest in an instant...
Said feeling must be irrational, true love at first sight.
~C~
In the middle of the night, he woke abruptly up.
'Midge' was surprised when he found his mortal disguise laying on its back – arms outstretched for the heavenly wyvern he had seen in his dream or rather memory just a second ago.
Letting the limbs sink down in unhurried manner, he was afterwards even more perplexed when casually rubbing through his eyes revealed a stream of tears on his cheeks. Remembering his lost family and... partner... had ripped scars open Midgardsormr didn't have expected to burn anymore after his arrival on this planet. Fulfilling the role of Hydaelyn's servant as well as witnessing the betrayal of mankind in this world made him focus a lot on the present, thus the past of his erased Dragonstar astonished the Primogenitor by being still able to make him cry...
Not to forget, how unbelievably immense his prime memory of the former savior affected him... The angelic existence erased even as a mere illusion every remaining anger within the old wyrm... and restored above all his mental stability.
But what overwhelmed the dragon at the most... was the feeling of a foreign body next to him when his arms landed on the mattress – or rather, on the warm flesh of a familiar being. Eyes widened, Midgardsormr stared at the maiden who slept innocently under his blanket; wearing her classical nightgown made of terry-cloth. Cecilia's beautiful shape entangled his hips plus legs, while her head lay next to his ribcage underneath the right armpit. And maugre the absence of her consciousness, she held him so tightly, that he wouldn't be able to stand up even if he wanted to.
A short glance over at the door confirmed his impression to actually be completely awake, since two wrenches and another tool lay in front of the object – proof enough of the Raen's 'crime' to have entered his chamber by force.
Feeling warm surges emerging within his heart, Midgardsormr smiled grateful and began to softly caress her head. 'You truly never leave me alone no matter what I do... Locking you out was probably a foolish decision... You will always find a way to reach me whether I want it or not. Especially, since you're a crafter and therefore even able to create new doors if that's necessary... … Aah, I am sorry for pushing you away.' he thought affectionate and leaned as much down to the girl as her iron embrace allowed him to. His arms framed the precious mortal despite the slight obstacle; his cheek entirely vanished in her silky hair. This delicate peach-blossom-odor she possessed filled the disguised wyrm's nose in an instant...
Quickly, the ancient being fell back to sleep thanks to her presence which profoundly calmed him. As a result to that, his mind was completely numbed until the early morning; no dream or nightmare disturbed Midgardsormr's rest. Then, he woke up in the dimmest light of dawn – obviously not yet the time to leave his bed, but apparently a good moment for caring about something important...
In their deep, slightly shifted embrace, 'Midge' recognized of course several small motions which revealed Cecilia's waking-state. Hands that held the fabric of his pyjama, naked toes which grabbed his own... The fast beating in her chest pressed against his own also spoke of this circumstance. So, he attentively listened when her breath went minimal louder than before.
Was she going to tell him off...? Well, not, that he deserved anything better... Probably, punishment was the only reasonable solution for their passive argument, even...
"You were crying... I heard the sniffs behind the door... It was so loud... So heartbreaking... … Strangle me, if you want to, but I couldn't let you alone... Rather, I let you shatter me into pieces before I could ever abandon you..." she murmured; voice a little bit throaty as if the maiden wasn't entirely awake at the moment. Though... Maybe Cecilia barely had the strength to stay conscious, but her stubbornness made her fight the tiredness for telling him these words. Words... which made the heart in his chest swell to double its normal size.
The smile that spread over his lips was an embarrassed one. He hid it by touching her forehead; tenderly placing kisses onto her skin. Shyness and nervousness made the plea difficult, but nevertheless the humble dragon whispered: "Please... Please forgive me... It wasn't my right to act so aggressive around you... just because I'm over-strained by the current situation... Furthermore... Offending you for having secrets isn't a privilege of mine or any other creature... Everyone is able to decide for themselves, if they want to share something personal. Not even an ancient fool like me should try to override this droit... … I apologize for my weaknesses..."
The maiden in his arms nodded indolent and seemingly returned to the world of dreams once she was sure he wasn't going to add something else. Minimal upset thanks to her unimpressed reaction as well as impudence, 'Midge' disbelievingly eyeballed the Raen – having expected much more reward than THAT for admitting his mistake. As a result to his injured ego, his draconic instincts considered immediately some kind of counterstrike- such as pushing this mortal nuisance out of his bed or biting her cheeks a little...
However, she disabled his plans when her sleeping shape snuggled further up to him. Her mouth sought for his neck; taking a small amount of his skin and sipping at it. Teeth lightly scraping him, Midgardsormr blushed and stopped breathing. He was aware of the fact, that some mortals – just as his own kind – at times expressed feelings only when they weren't awake...
Cecilia unwittingly confirmed this when her right hand wandered a little bit down his spine.
Argh... These might only be the tips of her fingers, but the maiden sent that drum in his chest into an ecstatic state when she ended up under his trousers' elastic-waist. Simultaneously, goosebumps spread over his skin while the color of his cheeks became darker. Eyelids being ripped open and lungs only shakily drawing breath as he tried to regain control over his sentiments.
Convincing himself of her innocence as long as she was asleep, he tried to relax, but failed to do so, when – after three exhausting minutes – her hand pushed even further.
Electricity zapped his entire skin where she touched him. It was so unfamiliar to be held like that- Never had anything or anybody clasped his buttock before. Especially not like THIS... As if the situation wouldn't be confusing enough, she kissed his neck once more – this time so aggressively, that Midgardsormr was definitely sure, that some Au Ra must be related by blood to his species.
Cecilia soon stopped the rough contact between teeth and skin.
Mentioned mercy happened, when the dragon slowly allowed himself to relent- to not only accept the awkwardness, but relish it. She seemed to sense his nervousness even in her sleep, because once his instinctive anxiety ebbed away, her touches were gentle. Loving. Lacking all former aggression which his unease seemed to have caused.
As the girl's motions came two minutes later to a complete standstill, 'Midge' decided to get more rest before her unknowingly actions might distract him even more. The mere physical closeness they shared, though, slowed the process of losing consciousness a little bit down...
His shape was drawn to hers; aroused to the core. He managed to keep perfect control over himself as long as it was for staying away from her bare skin underneath the nightgown, but for a moment... his mind became for another instance unacceptably weak.
'Midge's' left hand slipped onto her covered chest.
Lightly holding the soft curve like a fragile treasure in his willing fingers.
While his eyes closed due to raising heat on his face, Midgardsormr's fingertips poked with minimal pressure into the fabric as his palm carefully pressed against this welcoming warmth of her body. Deeply inhaling the moment, he soon couldn't help but lovingly squeeze Cecilia...
He forbade himself to groan, as the sensation of her femininity in his grip was more than pleasing... His teeth dug into his cheek once a sinful thought crossed this awful mind- biting himself harshly as he imagined how it could be to touch her there in another way; if he used instead of his hand... his mouth... The dragon's tongue flicked over both teeth and lips – not because of the pain to have harmed his own flesh, but thanks to that unbelievable desire.
He had never expected himself to fall so much into this abyss of forbidden needs and wishes... Cravings he didn't knew he had...
What... Just what had this shell done to him... The once mighty wyrm caged in a mortal vessel succumbed to feelings that weren't right... Midgardsormr wanted to do things that were inexcusable. Just why was this corpus manipulating him so much...? … Of course he understood, that living as a mortal meant in the end nothing else than to BE a mortal, but... Could something like him even dream of this...? Had a Methuselah like him... any right... to relish whatever... his vessel wanted...? He was an ancient, outdated thing. There was nothing he could do about his spirit's age...
The vessel could be as young as it wanted to appear...
His mind, however, stayed what it was. Old. Too old. Hilariously old...
Such surprise, that it didn't suffer yet under dementia or other bad conditions...
Feeling his maiden snuggle up to him in the most endearing, innocent manner let the Methuselah smirk helpless. She was a good reason to struggle with this horrible existence... Even, if 'Midge' was forced to simply stay by her side and watch the path she was walking down... As long as he could just be with her, it didn't matter, that he needed to suppress so many difficult urges...
Cecilia was more important to him than his own condition... More important than his pride, anger, misery and longing combined...
~C~
Sunken once again into the illusions of his subconsciousness...
Memories of the first moments on this planet occupied his perceptiveness.
The warm ground underneath his entire body felt like a comfortable mattress. His wings spread over plants he had never seen before; plants that were so green and lively, that a tortured soul could easily forget the cruel pictures of war which were burned into his mind... The gentle breeze whistling through this serene forest around him mildened the pain of his weakened corpus.
Softly purring, the Primogenitor framed the newly laid eggs in the last beams of the setting sun; inhaling with relief the clean oxygen which caressed his lungs. He was grateful to be allowed to use this planet as a sanctuary – filled with unspeakable happiness to be granted the chance to see soon the hatching of his last own children...
The deprecative growl next to him tempted Midgardsormr to minimal raise his dizzy head.
Ah, he couldn't get tired of this view... The beautiful wyvern almost in his reach lay on the ground as well. Angelic – even more in the warm, orange light which was perfectly complimenting both white hair plus feathers as well as the crystal-blue eyes. Other than the scaly, ugly furuncle, however, this heavenly creature was a pure image of pride. Head and neck rested in a noble position as the handsome being looked down at him; winged arms folded underneath the furred chest.
The dragon-father barely held a smile down when he mentally repeated the penultimate moment which his brain had recorded... The instant... before he lay down in this forest...
Albeit his savior possessed seemingly a cold, harsh nature, the wyvern was expressing clear dislike when Midgardsormr had agreed to Hydaelyn's pact. Yet, he tolerated the only choice left for the exhausted parent, while a rebellious expression lingered nevertheless in the corners of his pale eyes. There was something about him... which indicated aforesaid cherubic being as a reckless protector; in other words a miracle in the Primogenitor's eyes, who was used to strangers being nothing more than threats. Even the way, how the deity had accompanied him – just in case – to this place called the Silvertear Falls, spoke of honest generosity that couldn't be archived by ANYTHING which previous aliens in the wyrm's experience had done.
Howsoever...
A part of Midgardsormr wondered meanwhile, why this target of his affection wasn't already gone. There existed no need to stay any longer – this planet was save; the Mothercrystal had promised to accept the Primogenitor's children as legitimate residents of her world. Everything was fine now- at least for the weary drake. His savior, on the other hand, seemed to be in a rush, as he had mentioned before to be actually working at the moment. Whatever this phrase 'work' was supposed to mean in case of an immortal... Yet, the creature explained – while they were flying to this spot – that there wasn't much time for him left to keep anybody company ere he needed to return to duties far away from this world.
With that, his welcome presence possessed unfortunately a bittersweet aftertaste...
The draconic angel snorted abruptly. Just as if he had read his thoughts.
Before Midgardsormr could formulate an apology as precaution, his savior already responded with a low voice: "I cannot simply leave you alone. Normally, I do not pity other existences... No matter how much they might have something in common with me. But... paradoxically, you make me feel like I would be in charge of your fate. This is... unquestionable special. … To act as some kind of hero or guardian-angel is nothing I desire, yet my tasks in life make me often help those in need. Albeit they normally do not awaken these... protective instincts which you and your brood trigger within me. So... I truthfully want to make sure this time, that the ones I supported won't suffer under any aftereffects."
Listing to this voice was similar to taking a drug... Focusing on the meaning of these words was troublesome as long as such charming tune carried them. Even the informal manner of addressing him with 'you' instead of 'thou' appeared less impolite with this pleasantly monotonous melody...
"Thou consider Hydaelyn's agreement to be a bad choice of mine?" the Primogenitor asked; sounding embarrassingly tired and powerless. Glancing at the eggs, the heavenly savior responded: "Probably your future history will tell. But what I truly do not like, is the fact that you had to bind yourself to this Mothercrystal... I find it hard to trust an act of mercy when one is forced to give up something in return. One's liberty... is a property as well as gift nobody should ever be allowed to take away. Not even in exchange for the safety of innocent children."
The blue eyes abruptly studied Midgardsormr. Steady as diamonds and cold as ice...
But for the Primogenitor, mentioned action wasn't in any way a threat. He was drawn to this being – drawn to the personal care his savior was hiding within these rough words. When the crystals changed slowly their expression a fortiori he beheld them, a wave of longing rushed through Midgardsormr's body due to this extraordinary, magnetic gentleness the divine creature possessed. This loner was deep inside as charming as its shell; a flower protected by thorns that would drive anybody away who wasn't worth to touch the wonderful blossom...
Ashamed of his own thoughts, Midgardsormr quickly closed his lids. He wasn't a young dragonet, that such naive affection should occupy his chest...
~C~
Something tugged him out of his dream.
At first his foggy brain failed to realize it, but once the shivering motion next to him was accompanied by loud sniffs, he returned entirely to his senses. Sitting slowly up like his maiden, 'Midge' stared confused at her as she was crying like a passive child.
Cecilia leaned slightly over her legs; holding her head as if she experienced the worst ache, whereby her hair was a tousled mess of white and gold. The Raen's lids were widely open as she stared at the blanket – her gaze a giant window to immense terror, though her eyes were obviously not able to see anything. Tears streamed endlessly over her reddish face...
One could have assumed now, that she must suffer under the aftereffects of a horrible dream...
But his sixth sense told him, that the maiden had seen a vision. And it must have been a terrible experience, when the result of witnessing mentioned event was such an apathetic state... Cautiously, he uttered her name – only to become even more worried when she didn't seem to notice him at all. Afraid, that her psyche might have taken severe damage, the disguised dragon trembled like a leaf. Was her condition his fault...? Had he unknowingly triggered the Raen's Echo with all his memories of the distant past...? … Just what had she seen...? Maybe... the war on his Dragonstar...?!
Before the drake could hesitantly touch her left arm, she suddenly whispered: "I didn't know what it would do to you...! I couldn't augur how much you would have to pay for accepting this planet as your sanctuary...! Had I foreseen, that you would protect Hydaelyn's core and be then burned alive by this massive explosion of fire plus aether...! I thought... I thought you would be dead...! I thought your spirit was destroyed...!"
Afterwards, Cecilia shook her head wildly and continued crying.
Taken aback by the information, that she had just seen his physical death, the disguised antiquity needed a moment to recollect his thoughts. Once he had recovered from the slight shock, how much this specific event of his past was mentally disturbing the young Au Ra, he reacted to this pain.
He entwined her tightly – touched by Cecilia's immense compassion – and pulled her onto his lap. 'Midge's' arms practically imprisoned her devastated shape; pressing her back against his chest while his cheek sought for contact with hers. She trembled and grabbed his limbs- not pushing him away, but trying to get him even closer. Simultaneously, her sniffs became even louder as she squinted her eyes, which were meanwhile similar red like her soft skin thanks to the endless stream of saltwater...
The maiden calmed only slowly down.
It was agonizing to be unable to help her any further, so Midgardsormr couldn't do anything else than silently wondering, what exactly she had seen. Apart from his death, to be more precise... Whose... Whose perspective was she reliving in her vision? Had she seen, what Her grace was witnessing in this very moment...?
No... Impossible.
The Mothercrystal knew very well, that his ghost couldn't be erased so easily. He doubted Hydaelyn's sorrow would be enough to make Cecilia cry like that. A calm spirit like the one which this planet possessed would rather soothe the maiden's anxiety than turning it into panic. Especially, since the girl seemed to treat Midgardsormr's fate always like a personal thing. As if everything bad happening to him was her burden; her fault. Yet, even while this might be true in the present, that was surely not the case in consideration of his past. She did not even have existed, when he came back then to this world... So, her emotional outburst didn't match- was out of place, if she had truly seen the Mothercrystal's perspective.
But probably one of the Garlean soldiers, who had been present on this day fifteen years ago... sufficed to explain, why Cecilia's emotion could overlap a lot with the vision. The Garlean nation was convinced of his death, so beholding the Agrius' downfall in place of a soldier might be enough to overwhelm the maiden's mind.
In order to distract himself as well as his precious girl, 'Midge' tried to converse with her.
"What you have seen... is just the last moment I remember to have been awake... before my soul necessarily needed rest because of the pain my body was enduring within this explosion. You could compare that to a harsh blow forcing your mind to become unconscious in order to avoid graver damage to the psyche. In other words, not the greatest grief my spirit holds, as none of my children had to die for me in this instance. Although the sacrifice... which my Dravanian descendants were making on that day... is still something that burdens my heart in the present."
The following, muted snort coming from the maiden seemed like a tiny ray of light.
Same counted for the way how she glanced now at him – the severity in her eyes was welcome to the dragon, as this was a sign of her mental recovery. Albeit 'Midge' couldn't deny, that she slightly drove him away with her earnestness... His face, at least, as he leaned just in case backwards and therefore lost the contact to her cheek.
Obviously offended, the Raen sighed in response to his action and snuggled up to his chest.
He tensed for a moment, as it was hard to foretell her next step, but once she put her head trustful onto his right shoulder, Midgardsormr relaxed entirely. Scrutinizing her nevertheless, he watched when she licked her lips and opened the mouth; hesitating.
"You shouldn't... compare that to a bagatelle." ,Cecilia lowly grumbled, "It was your body, nevertheless. You were tasting death when your cells burned as well as deceased in the explosion. Your grandchildren's wounds and bereavements have not more value than your own agony."
The Methuselah smiled and placed an affectionate kiss onto her left horn-ear. His tender sentiments made him whisper: "But you're certainly more valuable than I am." "Bollocks." she cursed outright before her right hand suddenly appeared in front of his forehead; harshly flicking her index-finger against his skin. "Ouch... Why do you not allow me to be honest...?" the drake in a human shell complained half-hearted and rubbed with his left hand over the hurting flesh.
Instead of answering, the Au Ra pulled her lips minimal into her mouth and looked away from him; a dolorous expression glided over her mien. Something about the conversation had hit a nerve, obviously... Whenever she fell silent like this, there was a good reason for doing so. Usually even a difficult one. "Cecilia... What is wrong...?" he softly asked and caressed her right hand.
"I wasn't doing a good job yesterday. If you want to put it into a specific manner: I let you down. All of you. While fighting Nidhogg, I made countless mistakes – including the fact, that I hadn't informed you about me being a second Azure Dragoon. So, I hardly possess any value in my eyes. Ironically... it's not like I wouldn't have known that before... Or would have felt any differently..." the maiden shrived almost not audible. Cautiously brushing over her left cheek and gazing worried into her blue iris, he inquired uncomprehending: "But why...? You did everything you could-" "Which wasn't enough." she straightforwardly cut him short.
Midgardsormr eyeballed the Raen for a moment with furrowed brows.
The ancient wyrm wanted to understand her melancholic expression without asking more questions, but ultimately had to give up on trying to comprehend Cecilia's mood as he hadn't any matching knowledge of her past. Argh... This was indeed something he regretted... Her personal background was practically unknown to him. If it wasn't for her parents' careers alias self-evident believes tied to these things... as well as her mother's death because of a sickness, the Methuselah had no idea why the girl was who she was.
The maiden breathed out and mumbled: "I'm sorry... I know this makes not much sense for you... … Let me explain..." Unsure about her decision's rightness, 'Midge' stared at Cecilia while she leaned the back of her head further against his shoulder; apparently thinking. Hmpf, the Au Ra was obviously not ready to speak about whatever she wanted to share with him... Had it been something meant to be spread, then she wouldn't falter so much to simply utter the words... But he didn't dare to convince her of the opposite once her lips slowly opened once again.
"Compared to Felicity Shirone, I am a failure... Even before my mother was as old as I am nowadays, she was the most formidable Valkyrie and magician you could ever have seen... If one gave her a sword or lance; a glaive or an axe- Unimportant the weapon's type: She could use it. And her magic was so powerful, that she was able to combine skills of three different classes in the very same moment without even starting to sweat."
He slightly cocked his head when she stared with a more frustrated expression into space. "I may be an acceptable crafter – something she wasn't at all – but otherwise her offensive capabilities would have held a greater meaning for the Dragonsong War than my own do right now. I'm good enough to mimic her basics, yet I would have to go MUCH further to be superior. … You see, she wasn't my father's favorite girl for nothing. She impressed him on a level no other woman could reach. Which means a lot, once one considers his outstanding qualifications."
Midgardsormr would have loved to know, why exactly her father was so special... However, he kept quiet in favor of listening to her words as she wasn't done yet: "I feel a bit like my buddy G'raha... You know, the friend I mentioned when we rode for the first time together through Mor Dhona... The one who sealed the Crystal Tower to make sure its technology wouldn't fall into wrong hands... Speaking about him still hurts me, though, as he was the first friend I have 'lost' in this world... … Just like him, I am not quite complete. But while his faded Allagan blood was the only reason why he couldn't act – without some help of his ancestors – as great as he was meant to do... in my case, there is not such an excuse. I am my parents child, in direct line. There exists no logical reason why I can't access some powers inherited by my father without him being near to me."
She closed the eyes and wrapped her arms around his hips; seeking for a deepened embrace. Midgardsormr was more than willing to answer her need, so he held the maiden tighter when she turned around and hid her face underneath his chin. Ah, she was a mysterious girl... Not only in consideration of her odd abilities, which were already for themselves a strange thing to experience, but for her characteristics as well.
~C~
Probably it wasn't a bad idea to distract her a little bit further.
Out of curiosity – maybe due to the resemblance between both G-phrases – the ancient being asked: "Is your father... perhaps a member of this other species you have mentioned once? Is he a Gria?" "Of course not." ,she denied with a pitch that made him feel like an idiot, "Males of that race are rarely born. You can almost compare their rate to the 'commonness' of Miqo'te-men. So, chances are pretty slim that a Gria-guy would choose a woman from another species. Furthermore: If my dad was one of them, then my hair had most likely a magenta hue and my eyes should be amber-yellow. Not to forget, that I would probably have elf-ears, normal horns and wings. After all, Gria-genes are said to be very dominant."
'Midge' smirked when he imagined this. The Methuselah wasn't sure, if her appearance would still attract him the way it did now, but such a Cecilia could still be quite charming and surely adorable. Also... If the maiden would own a pair of wings, then she could fly wherever the environment might please her... And to make things even more enjoyable... He could have shown her beautiful areas hidden all over the planet in case that he had still been a dragonet... Areas, which her mortal eyes would examine in wonderment and pleasure... Thinking about that possibility made him gloomy, whereby the ancient dragon rather focused on something else.
Since he had already picked the topic up, Midgardsormr wanted to know: "So, when your father is no Gria... To which kind of species does this Paladin belong? Is he like your mother an Au Ra...?" His maiden kept quiet for a moment- even for an outdated furuncle like him, her silence was way too obvious. When she finally hummed and nodded, he couldn't help but sense strong hesitation coming from Cecilia. This was odd enough to make him suspicious, yet 'Midge' didn't want to push her once more after he had just witnessed last night how much he was capable of losing control. Because of the difficulties his temper could create, he told himself, that her reaction must suffice for the present, and settled for the response she had given him. Although...
"I'm curious, how a swordsman of the light side – whether he wears a special title or not – managed the learning of somber magic. You said, that he stands between the jobs Paladin and Dark Knight, but... Without magical knowledge, I doubt an amateur could practice such unusual spell like the one you used against my son. Therefore, would you mind to enlighten me about your father's career?" the disguised antiquity questioned with carefully selected words.
His girl loosened their embrace and turned around; putting her head again onto his right shoulder. While she nonchalantly pulled his arms over her stomach to continue their activity, an amused grin flitted over her lips. "If you try to imply, that my father would be a magician just like my mother: Hehe, no, he's not." ,Cecilia denied smiling, "He hasn't excessively studied like mom. Dad's spells aren't on the theoretical side, either. Should you be interested into the concepts of his job: Intuition, morale and justice. In fact nothing else than the ideals of all Paladins, although he doesn't look at things in regular black-white-manner. My father rather beholds something from all angles before issuing a judgment."
"But still the question remains, why one of his kind chooses the dark element..." the Methuselah noticed thoughtful. Cecilia rolled her eyes and grumbled: "An opposite element doesn't make somebody automatically evil." "Kehehe, I would never dare to call somebody related to you 'evil'." His chuckle was solely an attempt to conceal from her, that this notion she suspected was actually indeed his first and essential thought...
Mortals – those who didn't follow the general mage-doctrine like his precious archmage – normally didn't pick black-magic when they were devoted to its white rival and vice versa. Yet, this spell... This... Neka... was unmistakably the kind of darkness that the Ascians were using. To describe it in a clearer way... No regular human from this planet could put his or her hands onto the purest form of this element, if said person... wasn't a servant of Hydaelyn's counterpart. And Midgardsormr couldn't imagine, that such power would easily be accessible in another world. With that, he feared the decision of a Paladin to integrate darkness into his repertoire.
"Stop making such a long face." his maiden pouted and pinched the vessel's right hand.
When Midgardsormr scrutinized Cecilia in unsettled manner, a resigned sigh left her mouth before she abruptly caressed his left cheek with her corresponding palm. "Dad is the entire opposite to being evil. … Have you – by any chance – ever heard of the spell Darkja...? In another language common for my own world, father's Neka is also known as that. And people there fear the spell because of its originally deadly nature. Those weak to darkness may die immediately once Darkja hits them. … When my father was a child, he detested this magic – especially because he was forced to use it. Unintentionally killing foes was a burden he couldn't bear. So, when he grew up, dad changed the spell's virtue while casting it. He altered the magic to the point where it was unable to cause any longer instant death, but possessed in lieu of that a holy aspect."
Coughing, Midgardsormr stared at the maiden. At her relaxed- maybe a little bit severe mien, which she obviously didn't fake while giving him this way too unbelievable declaration. This... unworldly explanation he couldn't just blindly accept the way it was...
"HOW can any mortal who isn't even an old magus possess the knowledge for undertaking this...?!" ,the Methuselah asked perplexed with an accidentally loud voice; having of course heard of Darkja, since this was a skill the Ascians used frequently, "You expect from me to not distrust your father while there's enough evidence for me to be alarmed by the mere mentioning of said spell?!"
She rolled her eyes once again. Unnecessary provocation for his panic-fueled dragon-instincts. "Cecilia, honestly, how should I by ANY MEANS-" Her hand muffled him when his voice was close to reaching the loudness of screaming. Before 'Midge' had an option to prevent it, the maiden turned anew around – but this time not in innocent manner like before.
He obtained goosebumps when her legs- tights enveloped his waist. She came threatening close to the disguised antiquity – her face right in front of his eyes; crystal and jewel attentively studying him with narrowed lids. Meanwhile, Cecilia's hands rested with strong pressure on his chest as well as back of the neck, so that he felt trapped like any helpless prey under the cold gaze plus harsh grip of a dangerous carnivore.
What was wrong with his mind, that a part of him found this very appealing...
"My father is older than the majority of people in my home-world." ,the maiden uttered in a low, haunting manner, "He could already be a grandsire, when it simply comes to his age. For him, Neka wasn't hard to change. That being said... Do not always underestimate others in your draconic pride. And don't distrust them for the tiniest reasons. You would be surprised to realize, that there are lots of equals matching your morale-standards – outside of this nutshell named Hydaelyn."
Remembering his savior, Midgardsormr was forced to accept Cecilia's words.
The heavenly wyvern had been both things – a stranger AND a possible threat – yet trusting him back then was the only logical solution Midgardsormr's almost dead brain had been capable of. Furthermore, the Primogenitor fell immediately for mentioned almost-eternal one just by witnessing the later's pretty anatomy as well as mentality; soul. Thanks to this embarrassing aspect of his past, the ancient wyrm had indeed no right to judge others just for doing something unusual.
"Forgive me... I'm... I'm still a racist..." he quietly admitted; squinting the eyes in shame. Afterwards, 'Midge' petrified when her face abruptly touched his left cheek and softly brushed over his skin. The girl's lips ghosted as carefully as butterflies over him... Was she trying to cheer him up with such innocence? Strange... But what truly caught the old drake off-guard was the moment when her right hand on his chest started moving. Started caressing him...
He tried to endure the contact. Tried to stay strong... Eyelids partly opened, the disguised dragon tried to let not a single sign of approval escape his mouth. No matter the temptation, he couldn't allow himself to show the maiden, how much these affectionate gestures or maybe even banters were already affecting him. However... The girl's determination to brighten his mood – or perhaps rebuke him for his outdated world-view – was right now far over his limits.
Midgardsormr jerked and hastily inhaled once her fingertips touched one of the two most sensitive spots of his chest. This action was clearly no coincidence, because her thumb plus index-finger squeezed him target-oriented... Irregularly breathing, his face heated while a terrible longing climbed up his spine. The sentiment became even worse when her left hand glided down his neck and touched the second delicate point – when her lips on his cheek opened enough to make him feel the tip of her tongue and her thighs began to squeeze his waist with unmistakable pressure.
This sensation overwhelmed his self-control... Made him moan...
"W-What... are you doing... to m-me...?" he whispered; shakily exhaling through his mouth in similar manner to letting fire out of his strained lungs. Once she had listened to his confusion, Cecilia paused all motions for a moment. Just her fingers let loose of his chest; leaving bizarre emptiness there... Then, she murmured on his skin: "Good question... Actually, I'm not quite sure... Maybe I try to figure out, which kind of meaning I might have for you..."
As if these words alone weren't obliterative enough, her body tensed right around him.
His muscles started to prickle. Toes and fingers curled. A weird feeling conquered the vessel's lap... Cecilia couldn't been referring to what he feared she might be implying... right? His maiden didn't share the kind of difficulties he had in consideration of her body and nature, correct...?
Nevertheless, Midgardsormr trembled when he slowly voiced the scatterbrained worry in his head: "M-Meaning...? Such as... what I may think of you... as a female being...?" There was no response. Only silence. And when the young Au Ra withdrew from him, so that he could look at her mien, Cecilia's gloomy expression seemed to mirror his own desperation.
Oh Her grace, please... Please help...
He didn't know it.
'Midge' didn't know, what exactly his maiden was for him.
Before all of this began, she would have been just one of Hydaelyn's many chosen men in his eyes. A companion; a friend, once he got to witness her personality. So often had he wished for her to be a descendant- even a daughter, that this was the only feasible answer he had previously given her personal brother as the gruff Midlander questioned her importance for the Primogenitor.
But... But now...? Cecilia possessed a meaning he couldn't name.
Midgardsormr was drawn to her...
Physically attracted by this beautiful shape... and unable to ever stop wondering about her fascinating nature. A wyrm willing to throw his immortal life- his soul away, if he could only keep this one girl save with such sacrifice. This was the truth. Yet, a nameless truth. The Methuselah didn't know a word which might be able to sufficiently describe for a mortal, what he was feeling in the quickly pounding heart of his vessel.
"Cecilia... I-I... I'm not-"
The noise of running feet next to the chamber's closed door interrupted him.
"Guys, wake all up!" ,Tammy's voice boomed through the corridor, "Something terrible happened last night! Thordan has imprisoned Aymeric!"
Taken aback, 'Midge' widened the lids, while Cecilia covered her mouth in shock. This unbelievable compassion of hers began to suppress every other sentiment; he felt it with all fibers of his vessel. "Midgard..." she whined; tears appearing in her frightened gaze. The Raen was deeply scared...
His brain was instantly focused on the probable danger in which their comrade might be right now, since the maiden's agony to helplessly watch a friend's fate was well-known to the Methuselah. With that, he quickly grabbed Cecilia's shoulders in order to prevent her from overreacting.
"I have not yet an idea, how to do it, but we WILL save his life." ,the disguised antiquity declared without a single spark of doubt in his chest, "I promise you: Aymeric. Won't. Die. Do you hear me? Everything will be alright."
Under his expectant eyes in glowing crimson, the precious girl nodded. A trace of courage slipped over her mien when he gave her a self-reliant grin. With that, he gently lifted her from his lap; holding the Raen close when they stood up together. "You are right. We'll make sure that nobody is going to kill him." she agreed while his hands surrounded hers. Afterwards, Cecilia leaned forward – kissing Midgardsormr's neck twice amongst a whispered 'Thank you.' on his skin.
