Twenty winters ago
The chilled breeze of the night carried the scent of plants and rock, as well as the musky, salty fragrance of the sea nearby. It also carried the feeling of desperation, the sound of whines, the greed of tears, and the odor of death.
It was a strange island, round, bordered by the satin beach under the moonlight on all sides. A round plateau stood in the center with pillars at the very edge. Back to it, a sharp summit towered the entire island. The structures looked like it was carved from another hand than the Gods: lines are too straight, surfaces to smooth. Between the rock and sand, an ancient forest survived the remnant of time. The whole island looked like an arena, with the plateau as the fighting ground. Looking closely, it was burned from all types of dragon blast, claw marks all the imaginable size littered the surface. But then, it was deserted, apart from six figures placed near the sea.
Three dragons, three humans. One lied down, one kneeling, four standing beside on two or four legs. One dragon, one adult human, two children, and two other dragons. Slim creatures, their large wings were folded by their sides, tails extending far behind them, leaving in the eerie golden sand a print of two dexterous tail fins. Curves carved for flying quickly and silently, their triangular heads were dotted by two large and intelligent eyes, in which the dilated pupils showed sadness. One was dark silver with golden eyes, the other was light grey with amber iris. They sat back on their hind legs, watching the scene, immobile as rocks.
The two lean shapes that stood in front of them barely passed their seventh winter, one had jet hair and abyssal blue eyes, accompanied by an athletic build the other was more peculiar. Round face, deep brown hair, his traits were plain and simple and his body looked tormented by his conditions. The edge of a burn mark pecked above the collar of his grey tunic, the same one that his companion wore, the fresh red clashing with his white skin. His body looked strange, but not abnormal for a young man in a world of barbaric Vikings where scars are praised. His eyes were the abnormality he wore: both grey and emotionless, they sparked a faint red glow under the right ray of light. But the four of them were merely spectators.
The actors played a tragedy. The man looked old, hair already gray, complementing his armor. Helmet by his side, he was kneeled beside a dragon, eyes filled with sadness and sorrow, hands gently caressing the reptilian muzzle. The creature was of a flamboyant red, with a trail of yellow running on his back. Looked like a cross between a Nightmare and a Singetail, it was a majestic beast, but also a dying one. Faint sparks of fire emerged from its scales, pulsating with his dying breath. Dancing in the soft breeze, the flames showed the remaining life in the dragon. Which each breath, they danced, with each move, they fainted, and with each feeble, the dragon died.
"I know," said the human "it is bound to happen, as you were not part of the Eternals, your Highness". The dragon crooned sadly, accepting his fate. "It is the way of the Realm, and no acquired power can challenge this" the human continued "Many though of them were privileged since they were born with the power to challenge the very way of existence, but they also discarded the sacrifice the Eternals made, sacrifice of their life for stability and protection, and the bearing the burden watching their friends go while they stayed. Even power becomes a burden one day, but succession means starting anew, facing new risks, and some experience can only be learned once. This is why it should always be an Eternal to take this place, as only they can guarantee that power is handle in the way it should. Yet, they were no match for jealously and greed."
At those words, the dragon tried to raised his head from the ground but failed.
"Shh," the human whispered, "I know that all of the candidates are not yet chosen, and but the last war showed that Vikings just became more intelligent, more vicious of exploiting dragons. It showed that even the Great ones can be subdued. "He closed his eyes before continuing. "But don't worry, your Highness, I promise that the next one is rightfully chosen, as we are only missing one more; and I pray that it will be an Eternal." The dragons groaned in warning "Yes, I will not be unfair, and don't forget that it's the Guards that have the final choice. I won't fail you, and I won't fail what I have been taught." He paused, inspired deeply, "I Won't fail the magnificence that I discovered about dragons."
The dragon crooned one last time, gently pushed his head against the human. The flames twirled one last time, and the dragon died with the salute.
"Farewell, your Highness" The human voice broke into slobs "Goodbye, my…, my…" Finally, he muttered out the word, "my friend." His sentence was accompanied by the roar of the two grey dragons, saluting the departure of their kin.
Slowly, the adult rose up and turned towards the two young children, gesturing them to come forward. They approached and both laid their hands on the dead dragon and said their goodbyes.
The adult then cleared his throat and spoke in a deep voice. "According to the traditional rite of the future emperor, only one human can act as the Messenger. And it deeply wounds me to be obligated to choose between you two. Now, please kneel on the ground and close your eyes, to wait for the verdict." The two children dropped to one knee. The tension in the air was thick enough to be choked by it, but forcing their respirations to calm down, the young Vikings waited.
The black hair blue eye Viking felt a pat on his shoulder and a gush of mixt feeling in his heart. Proud to be chosen, but also fear. Fear of not knowing what the role of the Messenger actually was, only that it held great honor and responsibility, and it involved dragons, fire-breathing flying lizards that stood at the very top of the food chain.
"You may encounter the verdict now." The adult voice rose again, ordering the children to open their eyes.
Immediately, the brown-haired one swung the chosen child in a big hug and murmured "congratulations "in his ears. When the two children separated and looked up, the sorrow they saw in the armored Viking eyes surprised them. He let out a growl, and the dark silver dragon roared into the air. Quickly a Nightmare appeared and landed beside the latter, giving him a quick bow. He then warbled some instruction and the horned dragon obeyed by grabbing the abnormal children by the shoulder and begun to take off. The young Viking asked in shock "What is happening?"
"I'm sorry, but you have to leave, the dragon would bring you to the closest Viking village, and you shall construct a new life" the adult answered, voice weaved with guilt and sorrow.
"What do you have to send me away, why can I stay here" He cried out "Why do you have to reject me!"
"Because the knowledge of talking to dragons and the role of the Messenger shall remain secret"
"I can swear secrecy on my life, please, I beg you, just don't send me away. Please!" Tears began rolling down his cheek.
"I can't, it is dictated in the traditions that the Messenger must be the sole bridge between Vikings and dragons."
"Then why haven't you chosen me instead" the young boy snapped before bearing his glair towards the other child, this time, hatred filled it. "Can't you speak up?" The jet haired boy made the motion but was promptly cut off by the Messenger. "Because you cannot" He only got two words out before he got himself cut off by the angry tone of the child, still between dragon claw.
"Is it because of my eyes and the prophecy they carry? I was already rejected by my tribe, not because of what I am, but because of what I will become. "The young voice was laced with anger and sadness. "I am equal with him in everything, what does he has that I don't?"
"Because the role of the Messenger is a life of servitude, and that isn't you." The Messenger answered seriously.
"Yet again" The young Viking let out a painful chuckle, that quickly transformed into hysterical laughter. "I am being excluded for what I am going to become. Why does everyone think that I don't control my own existence? Only I can decide who I become" he shouted the last words and managed to break free of the Nightmare.
He landed on the sand, and lunged toward the messenger, who sidestep to the left and grabbed his wrists before pushing him back in a swift motion and with enough force to make his opponent fall headfirst into the sand, just in front of the dragon. "Enough" the adult shouted, his face serious. He gestured to the red dragon to secure his claws on the child's shoulder. Grey eyes looked up, filled with anger and hate, shouting a thousand words whereas his mouth remained close. The dragon battered his wings and took off swiftly, under the glaze of the two humans. When the beast with his package disappears into the clouds, blue eyes looked up with questions.
"Let's hope that he finds more strength in his rage than walls from his past." The man said, before gesturing to the child "Come, we need to perform the ritual of passing." The two humans marched towards the grey dragons. "Say the oath" he ordered and the child looked up, held the glaze of the Messenger, and started the oath that was taught to them by this very man.
"I, upon my life and honors, swears that" but he was cut off.
"Not to me," said the man to the questioned child "To them" he pointed the two dragons.
The child turned towards the dragons and started a new.
"I, upon my life and honors, denies my former name and my Viking past and swear to endow the role of the Messenger as the sole bridge between dragon and Vikings, and I am honored to make my personal mission to assist and ensure the rightfulness of the Emperor's trials, for his majesty should be chosen according to the rules. I accept to remain nameless until the role is bestowed rightfully to me, and as it will become my only designation."
The two dragons, at the end of the oath, both let off a roar and bowed slightly to the child. The Messenger then took out a knife and sliced his own hand to draw a rune in the child's forehead. After he cleaned his knife, he said
" One last step to complete the ritual of passing. Name them." Obeying the order, the child approached the first dragon, the tan silver with golden eye one, and thought for a moment before saying: "I will name you Dawn." The dragon nodded and, with its sharp claw, ripped a scale from his neck and presented it to the child on his tail. The child was startled, but quickly recomposed himself and took the scale. It was smooth and sturdy under his hand, and he can still feel the residual warmth. He moved in front of the darker grey dragon dotted with amber eyes and said: "I will name you Dusk". The dragon repeated the same process.
"As the ritual is complete "The messenger spoke again "The past is set in motion. Let hope it can catch up during your lifetime."
\/—•—\/
The Nightmare let out a screech as he spotted some Viking movement on the island below. As soon as the pair landed, the child sat down on the ground to stop the world turning around him. The rough flying and acrobatics in order to disorient him have done wonders because he has no idea where he was. He managed to sit on a rock, and suddenly, the Nightmare let out a fierce growl, eyes narrowed to slit and lit himself on fire. The sudden light showed three figures standing in front of him: two tall, man and women, and one small. An arrow cut through the night, traveling short distance before lodging itself into the dragon's neck. The creature let out a pale growl of pain before falling to the ground. Quickly, the three figures moved forward. Two of them attached the dragons by immobilizing wings and tail, as well as putting a muzzle to prevent the dragon from toasting anyone. The last one, approached the child menacingly, an axe in his hand.
"What's your name lad," said him in a grunting voice and a mischievous glare. The alcohol in his breath made the child cringe.
"I don't have one" replied the child, holding up the glare, grey eyes sparked with anger.
"How did you arrive here?"
"That dragon brought me "Gesturing the down beast.
"So, you can control the dragons?" the man eyes lit up in envy "Tell me how"
"No, I can't"
The man didn't seem like a negative answer. He lunged forward and pressed a dagger against his throat.
"Then tell me why I should keep you alive, lad" he muttered, the rancid breath irritating the young boy's eyes. But the young Viking didn't budge, didn't even looked down at the dagger nesting against his throat. He grabbed the dagger by the blade, insensitive to the pain of his cut palm, and with surprising strength for a seven winters old, pushed the blade away before adding in a monotonous tone
"Because I alone decide my fate". Surprised by this action, the man wanted to strike again by was promptly cut off.
"Enough "shouted the woman "Leave the boy alone, Geir." Geir reluctantly pulled back. The woman then kneeled in front of the nameless child and grabbed his hand, inspecting the wound. She then said gently
"how about we head back to camp and treat this wound?" the child nodded but his face remained emotionless. She looked out found out the two grey orbs staring at her. "Interesting" she whispered, and read the anger and despair in those eyes that prevented her from adding anything else. She paused a bit, pondering options, before gesturing the small figure to come forward. Brown hair and eyes, he stared at the nameless child with nothing but curiosity.
"Give him your emblem and bring him to camp" she ordered, and the child pulled at leather piece upon which a skeleton holding a sword is burned on, before extending his hand.
"Come with me," he said. The other boy took the offered hand and the pair went back into the woods.
At this moment, Geir said, "you sure about this? "
"Yes "the women answered, "he will differentiate on what he's born of, not what he has lived off."