*drags self in, dying from these damn long chapters* Yo, my friends. Welcome back and I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter. I know it's a big deviation from the game's plotline but…time is a fickle thing and events can fluctuate with just the smallest change added to the story. Sorry if I've disappointed any of you, and I hope that maybe some will stick through with me. Sorry again *dies of anxiety*
Ascalon also has finally hit a class change, to that of a Draco Knight. There aren't many dragon units in the games, obviously, so I had to make the class for him. It's pretty much the Nohr equivalent of a Kinshi Knight, except dragon. Same weapons, just dragon, not mythical birb.
Savixf and SorchaAvenstar, thank you both for your lovely reviews and taking time to read. It means a whole lot and I truly appreciate it.
Warning: A few time skips, some moments alone with the insanity that is Iago's mind (dark as shit in there), frustrating moments as well as tense and maybe terrifying ones, idk how great my writing is, as well as uncomfortable insinuations and what not. Violence and fight scenes included.
Song of the Chapter: Yellow Flicker Beat by Lorde
Chapter Fifteen: Quiet Like A Fire
"And the scars that mark my body, they're silver and gold" - Lorde
[Castle Krakenburg- Throne Room- Iago, King Garon]
Aggravated by the growing nuisance, the blue-hair thorn in his side, King Garon sat on his throne and tapped his metal encased fingers on the arm of the chair, watching the royal tactician enter and drop to a kneel so as to show respect. Waving his hand dismissively, Iago rose to his feet and approached the throne, just as annoyed as his king, hating the general that challenged everything and no longer feared him. Over the past years the now Draco Knight had won over a majority of the military, securing a safety net for himself, able to spread his ridiculous ideas of peace and equality like a plague. Many times, both of them had threatened the young man, giving him requirements that were near impossible to meet only to angrily watch as he met and surpassed them. More often than not his ideas were passed at meetings, despite the clear distaste the king held for him. To add, Iago had made many offers, deals, just so he could try and sink one claw into the man and attempt to corrupt him, so as to use him for his own personal goals. All of them failed as he had grown wise and learned from Jezebel, not even giving the creepy dark mage a time of day.
Now as the pair came together, the king ready to do whatever it took to eliminate this unwanted breath of fresh air, they nodded respectfully to each other. Garon spoke first, disgust clear in his tone as he stated, "He needs to go. I should have killed him when Arcturus brought him here, and yet I failed as my heart was weak then. Now, my right hand, you shall carry out this task for me. Ascalon is up to something big, addling the minds of my children, destroying our chances to seize the opposing land and its wealth."
"Yes, my king. He has been plotting something since his parents passed, although I have not been able to pin down what it is. He's smart though, and cunning, and my king…I have come across a rumor that may interest you. Apparently, as it is, he has the ability to use the Dragon Veins. Your suspicions of him being from where Azura was from might be proven correct." Iago explained, a small smile playing across his thin lips.
"Can he now? Then he's also a threat to the throne, as well as Nohr. Iago, my tactician, find a way to out him publicly and I shall grant you and I the gift of him receiving a traitor's death, you being the one to execute it. I understand you know how to summon beings from other planes of existence and give you full access and clearance to use whatever you need to bring forth something that will defeat him. Do not fail me."
"Of course. His is intelligent though and avoids using the tricks he has. How long do I have to ruin this filth your majesty?"
"I would prefer one year, but you may have up to three if it is truly that hard. When the deed is done, wipe the memory of the beast and do with it what you will. If the brat survives what you unleash upon him, you may execute him or do the same to him as the beast. Now go and serve your country and king well."
Grinning evilly and giving a deep bow as he exited out, he answered, "Of course my lord. I shall do my best."
[One Week Later- Cheve, Nohr- Ascalon]
Ascalon had been on his way back from a visit to the circus, checking on how things were running and meeting with Ryoma and Hinoka, updating his friends on how the situation in Nohr was, how nervous he'd been lately as Iago had been unusually quiet. Ryoma, ever reliable for good advice, eased the man's nerves while working some of the knots out of his shoulders, shushing the Draco Knight when he complained about the pressure and explaining that it needed to happen in order to rid the man of them. Hinoka smiled and relayed what had been happening on their side, ending earlier than him as there was not much except growing frustrations and tension.
Aside from business, they all enjoyed each other's company and the roles they held in the circus that resided on the border, Hinoka nudging her brother and asking him what his opinion was on the beautiful dancer outfit Ascalon normally wore. Ryoma, flushing for a moment, replied that it was nice, although a bit snug and revealing, and said the colors complimented him well. Rolling her eyes, the princess sighed and complained that her brother would be single forever with that kind of mindset, mumbling that someone was bound to ask the general out eventually and he'd lose his chance. He shoved his sister as a response, not bothering to give her an excuse, and enjoyed watching the show and dancer at the center of the ring.
Not too long after that Ascalon had to leave for Windmire again, bidding his friends farewell and noticing that the prince's hug felt nervous, held for maybe a moment or two longer than it normally was. Brushing the anomaly in behavior aside he smiled to them and left, hiking through the woods and wishing he had brought George with him. He hadn't though, so as to avoid anyone spotting the pair as the king had grown more irritated in the year and on and off had the general under surveillance of a kind. Entering Cheve, he groaned to himself and went towards the inn, politely greeting the people that ran the establishment.
Walking up to the keep, he asked, "Do you have a spare room available? It doesn't need to be fancy. Just needs a bed…even a mattress on the floor will do at this point."
The woman behind the bar, who finally looked up from what she was doing, opened her mouth to say something only to stop and grin in awe when she saw the man. Hastily she cleaned off her hands and brightly replied, "General Avenstar, of course we have a room open for such a person as yourself. Where are my manners; my name is Cecilia. How long will you be staying with us?"
"Whoa, uh, thank you for your kind words…yeah. I'm only in town for the night. I'm heading back to Windmire."
"Ah, I see. Well, here's the key and if you're hungry just let me know. It's on the house dearie."
"Uh, oh no. Please, that's very kind of you but-"
"My wife and son are in your troop. Thing's are hard, with us being the way we are, but them being in safe hands makes it easier. Please, it's the least I can do to thank you for keeping them alive. Room's on the top floor hon." She told him quietly, a warm smile of appreciation on her face, sliding the key to him with a cookie.
Accepting the gift, unable to turn it down, he returned the smile and spent a couple of more minutes learning who the lady was, recalling the mother son pair that came from Cheve and how they had avoided mentioning the second mother until Ascalon had reassured them it was alright. Happily, he told her how proud he was of the pair, explaining that they reminded him of how he and his own mother had been, and thanked the woman for her kindness and for bringing up such a kind child. A couple of stools down another listened in on the pair, blond hair a mess as usual, with a drink in her hand. It was when the keep left that she cleared her throat a little, gaining the Draco Knight's attention, and gave him a sunny grin.
"Quiet a shock to find a general on his own in a small place like this. My name is Scarlet. I'm one of the Wyvern Knights that protect this place." She said, turning in her seat to face him and offer her extended hand to him.
Shaking it he smiled as well, pleased to find a fellow troop in the Inn. Replying he said, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Ascalon Avenstar, general of the Wyvern Troops, clearly."
"And a fairly good dancer from what I've seen. I was there a few days ago, sir. You've got some killer moves. Where's Georgie though."
This time he sighed in relief, even more relieved to find she was a fellow resistance member, and answered, "Had to leave him at the castle; he's fairly recognizable and situations have been tense, to say the least. I'm heading back on foot which is a pain but safer. We need to keep those flames burning hot and brightly, right?"
"Yes sir, and hearts beating strongly and as one. Have a safe journey and I hope to see you here again soon."
That said the two parted ways, Scarlet returning home while Ascalon retired early and took a moment to relax and process all of his many jumbled emotions. They swirled together, creating a sea of confusion as he had began to question asking Camilla out, if she would say yes or no, worried he might be too close to be romantic with her. On top, there was the stress of keeping the resistance hidden, the pressure he faced as Iago and Garon piled more and more impossible tasks on his shoulders, waiting for him to crumble under the weight. Iago himself was growing to be just as uncomfortably terrifying as Jezebel was, claiming that the Draco Knight was nothing more than a puppet waiting to be strung up and played with, how things would be easier if he gave in. At these comments Ascalon usually wanted to react with a strong punch to the tactician's face, along with maybe a lance to the crotch, but refrained and politely rejected every time.
Thankfully his siblings had picked up some of the weight to help him, giving him access to whatever he needed and helping the young general win over most other branches of the military without instigating anything that even hinted at treason. It was like walking on a tight rope, with people waiting at either end ready to set it a flame. Many times at night he woke up, suffering from a variety of nightmares, seeking refuge with Camilla, George, of Ryoma, depending on where he was at the time. Finances were one of his deepest concerns as he was not only paying his troops paychecks with his own, as Garon believed it was only fit for such a giving man, but he had to survive and fund the circus and underground city system that was slowly but surely being built throughout Nohr. He took in runaways, families seeking safety mixed heritage or not, and scholars the king was having tracked down and killed, to prevent the spread of information about Hoshido. Ascalon received many people willing to fight from both sides, making a point to personally meet and welcome all of them, storing a book on himself that had a coded list of the names and who they were.
Now, as he lay on the bed of the room, lazily gazing at the ceiling, he sighed and relaxed as he was finally out of his armor and could get some sleep. Or so he believed for half an hour, so close to drifting off when there came a loud roar from outside, followed by screams. Blinking and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Ascalon went to the window, trying to figure out what was creating the unknown bellow, gold eyes widening as they settled on the large beast charging through the town towards the inn.
White scales shimmered dangerously in the light of the setting sun, wings tucked in to reduce traction, and house tall fangs barred as the creature scurried and yowled upon seeing the general. It hastened its enraged steps, tearing up the stones and roads, and brushing off the many attacks made towards it. Ascalon, fully awake and terrified at the sight of a White Dragon, dashed across his room, managing to grasp his trusty red lance before the walls and roof were demolished by the beast. He rolled to the side, cursing as he had no time to put any armor on, and attempted to get by only to be swatted out and thrown into the deep fountain not to far away.
Groaning, as he was certain at least a rib was broken, maybe two, he pushed himself up and watched the foul dragon turn and level themselves with him, pale eyes uncomfortably watching him before launching itself forward, maw wide open. Ascalon, knowing going to the side was probably impossible, ran forward and slid under it, just skidding past the razor-sharp teeth and deciding to try talking with it before going all out and attacking. Whoever had brought this creature here, they had made a terrible error as these beings should no longer exist at this point in time.
In hindsight, it was fairly humorous as the Draco Knight, in only his tank top and pants, one boot missing, tried to negotiate with the dragon, explaining that he held no ill will and only wished to return it to its home. The response, in a voice that did not belong to the large beast, was all the answer he needed as he instantly recognized Iago's speech patterns and arrogance. His stomach knotted as he felt bad for the creature and knew he had to kill it to free it of its unwanted possession. Readying himself, and his lance, Ascalon looked around to see what he could use to help end its life, knowing one weapon would not be enough. Eyes darted around the area, desperate for an answer, only to pull back to the fiend as it let out a sound that resembled a laugh and roar put together. Again, it bolted forward, determined to end the man and wreck the town.
A split second before he ran to the side, Ascalon noticed the statue that was part of the fountain, how the large figure was portrayed with a lance pointed skywards and figured that would have to do. By a hair's breadth he avoided the fangs, using some crates as a platform to climb on and vault from, lance held firm and strong as he landed on the beast's face. Landing, scales scraping harshly against his bare foot, the general righted the weapon he held and plunged it at one of the massive pale orbs that served as an eye. It screeched in pain, whipping its head back and forth, nearly throwing the annoyance off. With a shout of alarm Ascalon held on through the violent movements, growing dizzy by the time it stopped. He shook himself in an attempt ease the swirling world. It worked and brought him back just in time for him to remove his lance and slide down, avoiding the creature clawing at him.
With an 'oof' he crashed to the hard ground and rolled again, evading the dragon's falling feet, being thrown by the impact and shockwaves it created. Coughing, Ascalon prayed to the gods that he didn't suffer a fit during this, knowing he'd be dead it he did. Hastily he climbed back up, making a b-line for the blacksmiths shop as he knew there'd be extra weapons he could utilize. Yet try as he might, the enraged mass of scales and teeth snaked behind him swiftly, overtaking the young man and speedily snapping at his heels, growling when the blue-haired man threw a barrel to save himself. He saved himself from the jaws but not the ground-breaking talons, yelping as one simply grazed him but tore out a chunk of his calf, tripping him. Ascalon hissed at the new pain, holding back his curses and yelling, proceeding to drag himself up in time to be caught in the back by the tail.
On the bright side, he crashed just inside the entrance of the smithy's shop, foggily hearing the shout of the owner and their attempt to quiet whoever else was in here. Arm shaking Ascalon groaned and rolled over, gold eyes focusing on the people huddled in the back, terrified and scared that this was the end. Men, women, and children gazed back fearfully, watching as the general climbed back to his feet and took a quick once over. A clear scowl settled on his face as he went to the lit forge, taking a hot piece of metal and cauterizing his leg wound without so much as a noise. Mind racing he skipped through the shop, scooping up a couple of bags of gunpowder, discarded and small metal shards that he threw in with said powder, and then dumping all of it quickly into a long metal cylinder, stabbing a small hole through to run a wick in. Just to safe he took a bundle of rope and some flint stones, stashing those in his pocket. If his hazy science and mind were right, this would potentially explode under pressure, like a firework.
"I'll pay you back. Stay put unless the building takes anymore damage." He told the people, body shivering some from the flood of adrenaline that ran through his veins, hot like fire.
Heart threatening to explode in his chest from the strain it was under, Ascalon limped out of the building and dashed across the street when the confused beast's back was turned, ducking into an alley and climbing a ladder onto one of the roofs. Many citizens watched as the bruised man ascended, muttering and calling him crazy, all of them confused about what the metal cylinder was. It was when he reached the top of one of the taller buildings, and whistled loudly, that many believed he had a death wish, none noticing he was halting it before it could stomp down on the town hall. Snapping it's head around, the white dragon gave a low rumble in it's throat, turning around and advancing again, cautiously this time.
He took note that the possessed fiend had learned he wasn't dumb, or as much as it originally believed, and held his lance ready in one hand, the other grasping his deadly firework, rope looped around his chest. When it paused, just a little bit past the still standing statue, it blinked at him a couple of times before snapping its maw loudly in the air, giving a shrill wail of disgust. Snorting it began its charge, thankfully only damaging the roads and carts, people safely inside the buildings and watching the battle rage on. With a yell of fear and determination, Ascalon ran as well, going to meet the beautiful and haunting terror, vaulting off the rooftop and sailing through the air.
Jaws dropping in awe at the epic sight, all believing it would end in death, the town of Cheve watched with held breath as the general flew through the air gracefully. Almost landing in the mouth, Ascalon instead ended up partially inside a nostril, lance sinking deeply into the soft and vulnerable skin that had no protection. Nearly deafened by the unnatural noise that erupted from the beast's throat, he made his way quickly back over to the damaged eye, legs trembling as he had no steady foot holds on the pained face. Tearing the skin further on his unprotected foot and free hand that tried to hold on, he reached his goal, breathing heavily, and shoved the cylinder into the hole he had made on this eyeball. He used his body weight to sink it further in, earning another shriek from the writhing and flailing dragon. Hands sore and but finally steadying, he took out the flint stones, hurriedly scrapping them together so as to light the wick for the firework.
Almost a moment too late they created a large enough spark to light the fuse, cuing Ascalon it was time to get away from that part of its face. Encouraging himself to keep going, he ran across the head, sliding down and over to the mouth and teeth. He told himself to keep calm and steady as removed the heavy bundle of rope, whipping it outwards to quickly detangle it, as he was on a time limit. Arms burning from the strain he reeled the two ends back up, creating a loop that went around the top of the beast's mouth, repeating the process once more fully, before he was thrown from his precarious perch. Thankfully, somewhat, his arms had been so entangled in the ropes that he didn't go flying but instead hung below the deadly mouth, one of his shoulders dislocating at the strain.
Tilting it's head down the dragon glared at his with unrivaled hate, not understanding why the puny human was grinning, or what the sizzling noise was. An instant later the firework exploded, shards tearing through the soft insides and force pushing outwards, destroying half of the now dying dragon's head. Ascalon waited until it flung itself about, gritting his teeth as he held on tightly, and then used the extra length of rope to lower himself down and pull harshly, dragging the off-balance fiend towards the statue. Making it at the last second, just avoiding one of the falling feet, he tugged down of the extra pieces and watched numbly as the possessed being toppled over, neck skewered by the large metal lance the knight wielded. Its body twitched and shuddered for a couple more seconds before ceasing, dying at last.
Chest heaving heavily, Ascalon stood, in shock that he actually just did all of that, and gazed at the poor thing, knowing it had been a puppet from Iago. Little did he know that everyone was emerging from their homes and shelter, excitement held back only by the amazement they held as they gazed upon the successful savior. Scarlet, who was returning with others from the nearby circus to help back him up, stopped in her tracks and took in the sight of the town, the wreck it was, and the large body and small figure at the center. Ryoma and Hinoka, in Nohrian disguises, stared for a moment before busting out into loud cheers, overjoyed at the accomplishment their friend had made. The town followed suit, rushing forward in a mass to go and lift the man up, screaming and shouting in joy.
From not too far outside the city, hidden in the woods, Iago gave a shrill cry of pain, feeling what the dragon had, and then lost the connection with the creature. The last thing he'd seen was the blasted general standing in triumph, a knowing expression on his face, watching the light fade from the eyes of his foe. Cursing angrily, he blasted one of the trees near him, demolishing it, furiously stomping in fast circles as he collected himself from such a defeat. Once he had, the sorcerer, took a few deep breaths and pushed the hair out of his face, telling himself that this was only a warm up for both parties. The brat had failed to notice the Dragon Veins and was able to topple his first beast, but there would be more, and it would only stop when the general stopped, either dead or as a tool for his plans.
[3 Years Later- Ascalon (22)]
"The fires find a home in me" - Lorde
From that day on Ascalon could do no wrong in the eyes of Nohr, being the one requested for whenever an emergency arose, gaining popularity across the land and, by the grace of the gods, funds as many cities gave him gifts for his service. At first, he refused, giving the money to people whose homes were damaged, eventually realizing that he could fund the rebellion. He traveled with some troops, but also with some of the royal children, letting them grow as political and societal figures, preaching peace together wherever they went regardless of the Nohrian sibling that was with him that day. Working seamlessly, and earning even more hatred from his king, Ascalon and the Nohrian children gained fame and the adoration of the citizens, loved instead of feared. They attended the establishment of hospitals and other institutes named after them, all of them pleased that they could help and remaining humble even through the praises.
Of course, though, with publicity came the influence to change even more in the political field, many towns and cities moving for Ascalon to join the royal cabinet as he had met the requirements for it, exceeding some of them. Xander, as well as a majority of the other generals, supported the motion and out voted the king and Iago at the end of the first year, happily welcoming the breath of fresh air. Keeping true to himself, the youngest general, and only Draco Knight of the kingdom, spoke eloquently, explaining the true reasons behind the tension between the lands, and suggested bringing up trade deals with their neighboring kingdom rather than invading it. This subject became a continuous debate for the following year, one that many were unsure on but willing to look into.
Camilla pushed for women's rights and for equality in the work field, proving that women could fight just as well if not better than men. She stuck by Ascalon's side, the chemistry between them obvious to all, and becoming the sweethearts of the country, whether they would admit it to each other or not. Both of them were still afraid to let themselves be together, even dating others so as to try and avoid the inevitable pull they had on each other, Camilla going out with Niles while Ascalon went with Ryoma, although he gave the Nohrian children a false name so as to hide that he was dating the opposing kingdom's crown prince. They knew they were lying to themselves, but desperately wanted to keep from being the others weakness, fear of Iago going after the other a constant stake driving a divide between them. Yet, as the second year came to a close, and they watched the fireworks of the new year's together, the inseparable duo held each other silently, hearts screaming the truth at them. Together they revealed that their relationships had ended, Camilla's as the two didn't fully click, and Ascalon's due the risk of Yora (Ryoma) losing the throne/spot in the family if they stayed as a pair. Almost as if they were young children again, hurting and trying to be strong, the two helped each other heal, both venting to the most important person in their life. Ascalon went first, as he was not too bitter, but more saddened, and explained that he had made the prince/noble give him up, telling him that when he eventually came into power, he could abolish the rules and laws that forbade a same sex couple from ascending, promising to remain friends with him no matter what. She, told him of how she had carried everything in the relationship between her and the archer, angered by how rude he was about the affection she showered on her siblings and Ascalon, angrier still as he tried to play the pity party of him having a hard childhood and him calling her pathetic.
Pissed off, Ascalon rose to his feet and rushed off to find the retainer, Camilla trailing behind him and telling him to not be so reckless. He hardly heard her though and, upon finding the welp flirting with everything that had legs, the Draco Knight rang in the new year with a fist to the jerk's face and them a powerful stomp on his crotch, threatening the man and screaming insult upon insult at him, lost in a cold anger at the man that hurt the princess. Xander, who had heard of the break up, watched and let his brother go on a bit more before separating the two, sending the retainer away while giving a slap on the wrist scolding to the general, telling him he got a pass this once because Xander would have done the same upon learning of the poor treatment his sister had received.
The rest of that night passed peacefully, Camilla and Ascalon huddling up with Georgie and Athena under the night sky, falling asleep in one another's arms as they always had, finally back to the warmth and safety they loved. Elise, who came upon them that pleasant night, happily smiled as things were right again in the world and gave each one a light kiss on the head, feeding Georgie some apples, and the special treat of a Hoshidan pear. The young but wise princess fed the wyvern treats as well, telling her how lovely she looked, asking if she was happy that they were together again, giggling at the joyful response.
From there on the star-crossed couple stayed with each other, breathing life into the resistance and officially making uniforms for their people, sending them out to halt groups of Nohrian soldiers that were dispatched on kill missions, evacuating towns and leaving their symbol as a sign of hope. The calling card, one that would go down in history, was the silhouette of Ascalon riding George, a sign of the fight for peace, and the ability to be loyal to one's country but not the king. Underground through Nohr ran the veins of the changing country, filled with sparks and light as life pulsed down there, hundreds of thousands of people calling the hidden land their home, knowing that they all worked towards the same goal. This rough but refined land was where peace drove day to day life, Hoshidans and Nohrians living side by side, sharing their passions and traditions, learning the truth of one another. Ascalon, who frequented all he had worked to build, would visit and join the men and women, hammering bolts in place to stabilize buildings, consulting with farmers and scientist on how to produce enough food to sustain the many civilians, planning out where certain businesses would go and organizing the workforce so as to properly distribute the weight and burden of surviving. Schools were required to teach an unbiased history of both kingdoms, removing the boundary that most had grown up with so that the new generation could see the world for what it was.
True, he hardly had time as he balanced his royal work life, public duties, service to the nation, maintaining the Wyvern Troops, as well as finding time to be with his friends and family. Many times, he wanted to scream and cry in frustration at how impossible everything seemed, going to George and sobbing into his side when it was late, and no one was awake to see him and his exhausted mind bending, but not breaking, painfully under the stress. Like his parents had taught him though, he had to fight through and keep going even as Iago grew more and more persistent with his attempts to out the hidden royal, to bring him to his knees begging for the end. The pair bitterly faced one another on a daily basis, loathing the other and wishing they would drop dead. Threats were the sorcerer's go to, making sure they were ones that he knew would trouble the Draco Knight, trying to chip away the stone barrier he had protecting him and giving him the ridiculous patience, he always had. Ascalon, blood boiling every time he had to deal with the murderer, only graced him with an icy glare, one that could almost kill out of the fear it invoked, and either stayed silent or politely excused himself.
As the months flew by Ascalon grew closer to everyone, even meeting the last children of the Hoshidan royal family, grateful that the grumpy teen named Takumi agreed to help, even though it was only because he didn't want war, while Sakura was excited to meet the one her brother and sister spoke so highly of. All the royal children at one point or another worked together, not knowing who the other was as they all had disguises to keep themselves safe. The general laughed at the irony, a proud flame burning brightly in his heart at the encouraging sight. Eventually, with much time and effort, the last two warmed up to the respectable young man that started this entire movement, Takumi reminding Ascalon very much of Leo, explaining that he had to be strong for his family since his father passed and telling the Draco Knight that the kidnapping and assassination was what fueled his anger towards Nohr. Understanding his anger and pain, the general made a point to spend time with the teen, showing him how different the dark kingdom was, and proving that King Garon's actions did not represent the citizens, explaining that most people didn't even know Corrin existed. It was at the revealing of the deal he had made with Ryoma and Hinoka, as well as giving the same explanation he had two years ago, that the angry prince's flames died down some, dampened by the compassion and care that existed and disproved his ignorance.
The pair grew, as did everyone on the true but hidden country of Nohr, each person moved as the kingdoms helped one another carry the weight that was this silent fight against an encroaching darkness. Bonds were made and as this last year drew to a close, Ascalon and Camilla both 22 now, the fires of revolution prepared to fully kick into gear. Every part of their shadowed home had support for the cause, save for the Ice Tribe and Wolfskins, as they had chosen to remain neutral. Day after day batches of Faceless and brainwashed soldiers were stopped, banners with the symbol of peace flying high and words of the people clear. Corrin, who snuck out time to time, proudly told the sisters and Gunter of everything that was happening, glad that his brother wasn't wrong and that he was at last helping achieve the impossible.
Garon, who watched with fury as his generals and soldiers failed to quiet the uprisings made it illegal to carry anything resembling the resistance, banning people from speaking the damned Draco Knights name. These crimes were punishable with death, as the king hoped this would strike fear into the hearts of his people. Still, much to his irritation and rage the people persisted, now strong and proud, having grown despite his negligence and crushing cruelty that had increased over the years. Kill squads were sent out only to be eliminated by the dark dressed figures, the few rebels captured alive killing themselves before being interrogated, proudly speaking the ancient wyvern knight vow with their dying breath.
Iago, given the new task of stopping this group, as well as his original one, dived deeper into the void that was his forbidden and stolen magic, tearing portals open to different times so he might steal energy and monsters to combat these rebels. He reanimated the dead, failing to get anything from them, attempted to bribe anyone whether they were a high-ranking individual or a peasant, sometimes killing those who refused to give him what he wanted. Startled and alarmed at how sickeningly courageous and brave the countrymen were now, he began having public executions of those that even hinted at supporting the Draco Knight, bringing hell to the land as he commanded a troop of undead warriors and people that believed in the old ways. Still though, he could not win, and soon, he turned to the last resort he had.
"They used to shout my name, now they whisper it" - Lorde
[February- Third Year- Windmire's Shrine to the Dusk Dragon- Iago]
Night fell as Iago entered the almost empty shrine, candle light welcoming him as he was one of the few that still visited the building, most people too afraid to come near it as they knew he would be there. Tonight, an unnatural flame burned in him as the many images of the blue-haired man flashed through his mind, both angering him and pulling at a different emotion he'd never paid mind. The sorcerer had returned from an undercover scouting mission, one that his ally Hans had claimed would be worth the risk as they might learn a weakness the Draco Knight had.
It was a festival, one held by the common folk called the Shrove Festival or Feast of Fools, where people ran rampant playing pranks, eating gluttonous food, and joyous activities were held. As it was, apparently the Draco Knight was to be performing at one of the venues in this event, a big one. Iago, disgusted by being amongst the filth, concealed his identity with a full-face mask and hood, pushing through the hoards and ending up at the edge of a large stage. The obnoxious announcer prattled on and spoke of how this next performer was the one everyone had been waiting for, and anxiously he waited listening to his singing introduction.
"For one, for all!
Hurry everyone here's your chance
To see the mastery and romance.
Yes one, yes all!
Here's the finest man in dance,
Making an entrance to enchant.
Dance, my Dragon Tamer.
Dance!"
He sang, shouting at the end and throwing down something that exploded into brilliant blue smoke. Out of it did indeed come what Iago had wanted to see but wasn't expecting.
Spinning in the smoke, outfit a new sight to be seen and brilliant in color, jewel's sparkling in the sunlight, blue hair flowing perfectly, was Ascalon, the thorn in his side. Wearing bold dancer's garb, for a man at least, he energetically and beautifully danced about the stage, earning cheers and screams from many, almost seducing the crowd as he flipped and went through his routine. Iago, puzzled and uncomfortable as the situation had changed, swallowed audibly as the dancer passed him, giving a bright smile and gently pat on the head, leaping away afterwards. Clearly Ascalon had no clue who he had just insulted, oblivious to the situation as was everyone. Awkwardly the dark mage stayed through the rest of the performance, sickened by how the Draco Knight was handling himself and on the edge of blowing his cover to teach him a lesson and put him in his place. Yet, as the man's dance ended, and he disappeared off stage, Iago spotted him elsewhere, standing closely to the one he thought the Draco Knight had finally given up on. Camilla, in festive dress as well, danced privately with Ascalon. The two gazed at each other longingly, laughing after a moment and resting their heads together, unaware of the evil lurking in the crowd.
Now, as he paced the desolate rows of the temple, going to his private worship room, he plotted what exactly he could do with the information he gained. It wasn't often that the two were apart from each other, and he also rarely was able to track either of them as they had a knack for disappearing. Closing the doors behind himself he removed his cloak and mask, hanging them up as he turned and approached the dragon themed fireplace, disgusted as all he could think about was the dancing man. Of all people to be given power and strength, a weak, soft hearted, infuriatingly smart, dancing idiot was gifted it, spreading its wealth amongst even more weaklings. Why had the mighty dusk dragon cursed the sorcerer, plaguing him with these bothering images.
Gazing upon the effigy of his god, Iago spoke, anger and passion growing with each sentence, "My god, you know I am loyal man; of my actions I am justified. My god, you know I'm so much stronger than the mewling kittens that run our precious home. So, tell me, my god, why have you allowed him here, a disgusting instrument burning all I know? I see him, I hear him, the sun caught in his night-like hair; Gold eyes are burned into my mind and soul!"
Fiercely the flames crackled, dancing forward and swirling out as if to answer him, to remind him of the one that ruined all of his plans and attempts to gain power. Yet as he watched the fire charismatically move, it dawned on him that the same disgrace was why he had grown strong, stronger than he ever imagined, all out of the increasing need to bring him down, to see him beg for his life and mercy. Taking a step back in horror he realized what the other emotion was and, truly believing the Draco Knight was a being sent from hell, stated, voice a mix of dread and realization, "He's fire; hellfire! It's why he always wins. He's turning…everyone…to his will!"
Unsure as to whether the next truly happened or was a vision from the dusk dragon, a dark smoke darted from the flames, taking up residence in the sorcerer's cloak and animating it. The figure grew taller, towering over Iago and gazing down from the black void that served as its face, multiplying as the man gazed back in fear, believing it to be the dusk dragon itself.
.
"It's not my fault!" He shouted, to the figures.
In sync, deep voices rumbling the walls, the figures stepped closer and sang,
"Trux Mendax!"
"You are to blame!"
"Trux Mendax!"
"It is the damned man, the demon who sent these flames!" Iago argued furiously, sweating and angered.
"Infirmi Trux Medax!" They sang, even louder, closing him in closer to the flames.
"It's not my fault-"
"Trux Medax!" They rang, high above him in divine rage.
"That in your plan, you made the devil such a persuasive man!" Iago screamed in response, turning to see the flames dancing wildly again, aggravated and almost as he had.
"Vinco Infirmi Trux Medax!" Voices sang loudly, like thunder rumbling in the skies or a dragon roaring in the night.
"Protect me my god, give me strength to kill him! Don't let him burn all I've built for you! Destroy Ascalon and send him to the depths of hell! Or let me have him to build Nohr anew." Iago said back to them, unaware of the shadows that crept and wrapped around him.
Panting heavily, as a new energy surged through him, mixing in his blood and twisting through the veins to his heart, Iago turned back to the flames as the invisible hands of the figures rested on his shoulders, declaring loudly, "Hellfire! Blue Fire! Now demon it's your turn! Choose me or my ire! Be mine or you will burn!"
Falling to his knees before the flames, weak from the gift he'd been given, Iago choked out with a smile, "Gods please sway him"
Removing their holds, the cloaks began to fade, softly chanting,
"Kyrie Eleison"
"My gods protect me." He begged, mind cracking more as he was at the end of his rope, desperate to win no matter the cost, so long as he beat the other.
"Kyrie Eleison" They sang again, folding into one cloak and shrinking back down, landing where it originally had been, as if it were all an illusion of the madness the sorcerer was slipping into.
Sanity weakly flickering out, replaced by want and rage, the shattered man stated, voice increasing with each word, "He will be mine or Nohr will burn!"
.
[February- Third Year- New Nohr's Gray Temple- Ascalon]
Ascalon walked through the empty pews of the new temple dedicated to both the dawn and dusk dragons, gazing up at their faces in the candle light, wondering once again who he was besides a stranger in this land. Sighing he lit a candle for himself, speaking to them as he believed he was alone, unaware of the old wyvern lord that maintained the building when he could. Slowly at first, he spoke his prayer, one that was uncertain but grateful.
"I don't know if this is how this works or not, or if you'll even listen to the prayers of an outsider like myself. All I can really do is try, just as I always have. Gods help the people, the ones struggling here in this world, give them the mercy that us humans fail to show though it's so simple. Please help those less lucky than the ones who have made it here, no matter their country, as they need your love and grace now more than ever. I ask for nothing as I can make it by. I thank you for the strength you've helped me gain over the years, despite that pain that came with it. Thank you for giving an outcast like me a chance to have a home here, to make friends and a family, to be able to help those who suffer so much. And please, while it might be too late, I pray to you both for peace, or the chance to attain it and stop whatever is coming."
That said, Ascalon stayed only a bit longer, knowing he needed to return to Windmire as he had a task to complete the next day. Solomon watched from the hallway he had been in and, one the young man left, went over to the alter and lit his own candle, saying a quiet prayer for the boy that never asked for help. He followed after him once done, returning to the Castle Krakenburg and giving his wyvern, Samson, some extra love and pets before bed, slept peacefully and prepared for the next day.
[The Next Day- Fulgur Plains- Ascalon, Entire Wyvern Troop]
They had flown since the early morning, through the rains and winds, on the orders of King Garon to inspect and area of Nohr near the border, one rumored to be a possible hiding place of the rebels, even their elusive leader. Ascalon was told that if they found them that they were to arrest the scum, bring them back to Windmire, and attend their public executions as they were all traitors to the throne. The general had held back his internal screams of terror as he knew the location they were going towards was not a hideout, but instead a deadly expanse of land vulnerable to lighting storms. Still, under the threat of being executed if he failed, as well as his soldiers, he gathered his troops and took flight, sending letters to both the Nohrian and Hoshidan siblings briefly explaining the situation.
Now, as he and his soldiers approached the area, all of them terrified as they were practically flying lightning rods, he gave the signal to descend and put on their breathing masks as the air was humid and charged with static energy. Halfway down, to his alarm, he found a group of his people, rebels trapped and injured inside the deadly storm land. Faceless surrounded them and closed in, chains dragging heavily behind their ground shaking steps. Upon seeing what they believed to be their saviors, including their leader, the scared people called out for help, pleading to be rescued. Ascalon, readying his weapon, turned to the rest and nodded to them, using his free hand to signal them to swoop in and kill the monsters. He pulled alongside Solomon and Byron, telling the two that he'd catch up one he found the person that summoned the abominations. Grimly they nodded, concerned but trusting their leader, and swiftly left.
Spinning and diving at high speeds, the Wyvern Troops bravely danced through the lightning filled skies, darting down at high speeds while the winds howled past them, stabbing into the massive hoard of enemies, pulling up in time to avoid being swatted. As the ones attacking distracted the large beasts, others made their way over to the injured folks, clearing a path for them to safely escape into Hoshido through, directing them to the closest underground entrance. Some of them were carried by the wyvern knights and lords, others volunteering to run as they were able to. It was as the first wyvern knight was grazed by lightning, their mount screeching in agony, that Ascalon spotted the spellcaster alone, waiting by the edge of the plain where it dropped off into raging white waters.
Angered and ready to end this nightmare of a man, the Draco Knight took out his bow and arrow, the other weapon he had trained in for the past three years and fired two succeeding shots at the lone figure. It was when they were knocked out of the air by velvety shadows that rose from the ground that he felt a pang of concern spike into his heart, reminding him that this man was the one who had made Jezebel such a powerful Witch. Still, he knew that he needed to fight this man, whether or not now was fates ordained time or not, he needed to fuck him up, in simple terms. Clicking his tongue to tell George to take him down, he swapped to his lance, red weapon practically glowing in the grim flashes of light that came from the storm. Once close enough him and the Georgie swirled above the mage, the Draco Knight instructing his friend to help the others as he leapt off. Worriedly but trusting, just like everyone else that relied on the blue-hair man, the dragon speedily left, incinerating some of the Faceless mass with his golden flames.
Rolling once and springing smoothly back onto his feet, the two enemies eyed each other, crashed roars sounding in the distance behind them. Iago, veins blacker than the night sky and eyes wild, slowly paced, grinning as the Draco Knight did as well, a scowl settling on his face as his eyes narrowed in irritation. Beneath the duo the ground pulsed and quaked, Dragon Vein realizing a child of the right blood was above it, teeming with a long-held rage. They both halted as they prepared themselves, one clearly losing their mind as the other focused.
Chuckling manically, Iago threw his head back, looking to the sky and his god, and sloppily advanced forward, sending out a dark magic neither had seen before, screaming as the Draco Knight rolled to the side. A moment later Ascalon swept in, lance piercing through the night and scraping the sorcerer's arm deeply, ducking back as another spell flew past, dropping to a knee and sweeping the ground in an attempt to knock out the jerk's legs. It almost worked however, the power drunk man skipped over the attack, lashing out and catching the general in the head, just above his eyebrow, with his boot. Both dodged to opposing sides as a deadly bolt crashed to the ground they had just stood on, igniting the grass and brush nearby.
Breath coming in ragged and frustrated bursts, the pair watched each other for a moment before the distraught young man took a few steps back, surprising the mad man as he dashed forward and used his lance to vault himself over the flames. Booted feet collided heavily with the sorcerer's face, shattering his nose and breaking his right cheekbone, throwing him like a ragdoll across the dirt. Ascalon tried to keep his overjoyed anger in line, knowing that the mage was still dangerous, but couldn't stop himself from stalking forward like a hunter going for the kill. Adjusting his hold on his lance, he prepared to run the wicked abomination through, ending the constant torment he had lived in, only to cry out in pain himself as an axe buried its blade deep into the part of his shoulder that wasn't protected.
Yelling in surprise and agony as a boot planted itself on his back and shoved him down, Ascalon writhed for a moment before climbing to his feet, barely avoiding the second swing, and turning to find the new enemy. It, unsurprisingly, was Hans, the only military leader that sided with Iago and the King. Grin on his cracked lips the warrior stepped up to the plate, rushing forward and using the axe's advantage over lances against the Draco Knight. Desperate and thrown off, Ascalon rolled away and tried to block the next hit, grunting from the strain it took to deflect such a might blow, shoving the sack of muscles back a few feet as he groaned in pain. A spell disintegrating the ground next to him alerted him that Iago was back up, tome brimming with power.
For what felt like an eternity the three fought, two against one, Draco Knight trying hard to focus on what was before him but hearing the cries and shouts of his soldiers, the wails George sounded to see if his person was alright. He could not answer though, as he struggled to hold back the barrage of attacks and then make every hit count, not allowing himself any excitement as he tore through their skin and tissues, wounding the foes heavily. The conflict migrated across the plain, closer to the edge as they all danced around to avoid the bolts that rained from above then, tearing the terrain apart viciously and without remorse. In the heavens above the gods watched the fateful fight, two supporting the one while the silent one supported the two, balance hanging in the delicate hands of their fragile lives. It was anyone's fight, as the general had better training and knew how to fight in tough weather, using the slick grass to slid away and then speed in for his lunges. Iago and Hans had strength in numbers but were poorly coordinated, missing swings and crashing into one another every so often. Only when the silent and forgotten god interfered, tripping the Draco Knight and twisting his ankle with a random root, did the obedient servant land a devastating blow.
Ascalon, confused as to where the root came from in a land void of trees, only had a moment to look up before Iago clasped his hand over the general's right eye, hitting him point blank with the stolen dark magic he wielded. Laughter filled the air as the young man gave a bloodcurdling wail, one that echoed across the plains and reached his troops and friends. Unable to breath, even with his mask, Ascalon felt a powerful pair of hands grasp his arm and throw him to the side, letting him land not too far away from the cliff edge. Gasping from the hot bolts of pain that threatened to consume him, the Draco Knight wearily fought to stand, blocking a few more hits before the flat side of the axe knocked him down again, and again, wailing on him and cracking his precious and treasured armor. At the sixth hit he stayed down, coughing and trying to keep himself awake, to keep fighting. Upon hearing the rumbles in the sky he had a crazy idea, yet again, and grabbed hold of the sorcerer's clothes, one hand half prying the tome away, just as a bolt came crashing down on the three of them. Together they screamed, all flying in different directions. Iago flew back into the mud, Hans into the few trees nearby, and Ascalon, into the waters below, tightly grasping the tome and his lance. From there, the pain filled world disappeared.
Thanks all and I will update soon!