Ruby Schnee

His breaths were heavy, the noise of his lungs filling with air and pushing it out again was like a bell in his ear. Rory was aware of every inch of his body with every movement he made. The smallest movement had endless repercussions for the other parts of his form. A twitch of a single muscle, and his front right leg adjusted itself on the white brick floor. One breath, and his entire stomach moved without pause. The smallest twitch of his wings, and he felt the resulting wind across the rest of his body.

Every exhale from his maw was like a gust of wind finding their way through his massive teeth, the many white blades that made up his jaw were as powerful as they were sharp. Rory's bottom jaw twitched, opening fully momentarily before snapping shut simply to test his bite. The sound that resulted was like the clap of thunder. Behind him, his tail swished back and forth, he could control it, though it wasn't as manageable as a proper limb. With that thought in mind, his long neck moved his heads gaze to his wings.

Sitting on the apex of each, was a large hand-like extremity. It had five claws, one of which Rory could see clearly filled the role of a thumb. It seemed that Dragons - or at least the Dragon he had become - had wings that doubled as arms. Glancing down, he could clearly see the difference between his front foot, and the clawed hand resting on his wing. Turning around, his eyes focused in on random details of the room... Things he had been unable to see before. The comparison between his vision before and after felt like the change one would undergo upon putting on glasses for the first time.

The stone beneath him heaved with effort as he stepped across it, his large form turning so he could better see the room around him. Eventually, as his eyes flicked from object to object, they settled on the Ritual Circle he had stood on just moments ago. While his slitted Silver eyes stared at the Ritual... A voice took hold of his attention.

"Marvellous..." It was like water being thrown over his head first thing in the morning, the sound of Reginald Schnee's voice. "It is rare that we see a Dragon not White or Light Blue... You don't appear to be any kind of Fire-based Dragon... I have to say, even though the colour is beautiful, I didn't expect Red for a Silver Dragon..." Rory's eyes and head had not yet turned from the circle, yet, his other senses made him painfully aware of exactly where Reginald Schnee stood. Just to his right side, out of his line of sight... But within reach.

"Those hands on your wings... We have documented them before. They aren't features of a particular Dragon, rather, they are traits certain people can exhibit when they become one. If you had become a different kind of Dragon, you would have them regardless." Half listening, Rory lowered his wing down, so the hand on its apex hovered in front of him... The claws on it slowly flexing and gripping, as if to test their responsiveness. "Usually they appear in certain bloodlines... I assume that the Rose bloodline just happens to-" Once he was satisfied with his control of the limb, it lashed out faster than the King could see.

It was a quick process, efficient too. Before Reginald was even aware that anything had or was happening, the wing had reached out to him, the hand wrapping around his body fully and without a single part of him left exposed... Before it squeezed. The King of Atlas, the leader of the Schnees, a Dragon. It less than a second, his body was popped like a cherry. Rory heard the sound clearly, even through his hand wrapped around the man. The sound of his bones shattering, of his organs being torn apart by the shards of his ribs like shrapnel being squeezed through it. Through what gaps there were in his grip, blood spurted out like a faucet. The red was almost invisible as it moved down Rory's scales, though, he could still feel the warmth of it on his body.

His grip relaxed, letting what remained of the once proud man fall to the floor with a disgusting squelch of a sound. The pile of red contrasted strangely beautifully with the white floor, almost, in Rory's opinion, as well as his own scales did. After a moment, his head turned from the remains of the King, instead, settling on the Ritual Circle once again. In his mind, there was only one thought. A strange calmness had washed over him, like he knew what came next.

"That's one down." With a sudden flash of light, the form of the great red Dragon shattered and broke apart, each scale and fragment of his flesh becoming its own individual rose petal. The storm of red moved and convulsed, all of it coalescing in the centre of the Ritual into a much smaller shape. Standing on two legs once again, Rory had only dropped to his half form. Until this was over, returning to his base form was off the table. "I don't know when the others will realise what's happening. For now, it's safer to stay like this."

Reaching down, slowly, Rory scratched away at the white bricks with one of his claws. After ten minutes of slow progress, he had altered the Ritual to instead work as a sort of scanner. Once his work was finished, he worked his way around the room, gathering a few Dust crystals before returning to the circle. Setting them down into their receptacles, Rory began the Ritual without pause. It was rather basic, really. But it hadn't been made to be pretty.

After it was done, he felt the rush of information flood into his mind, the results of the scan. Looking through it, he found a few details rather interesting. Though, in his haste, he had failed to fully draw out all the information he wanted. Instead of seeing the full capabilities of his title, he only saw a few things. For one, this Dragon seemed to have three Innate spells. Usually, that would be fine. After all, some other Dragons had that many as well.

The issue was, that none of them sounded weak. His mind worked through the information, looking at his three capabilities... Though, the last one he hadn't received a full understanding of. From what he figured, the third ability should allow him to use Magic items much more efficiently.

Turning away from the Ritual, his wings folded down against his body as he stepped out of the room. Closing the door casually behind him, Rory turned and made his way for a nearby room. One he could feel held lots of Dust. His hope, of course, wasn't to just find a storage room. Rather, Rory sought out the workshop, or laboratory, that no doubt laid somewhere in the castle. Reginald had made plenty of mistakes since Eirwen's death... But perhaps the biggest, was showing Rory the Staff of Creation.

Rory had no intention of remaking the Relic. But, like the Silver Wizards of the past who spent generations developing it, he could work off of that knowledge. Perhaps, even, to make something better. Something strong enough to accomplish his mission... Something strong enough to let him win, despite his inexperience in combat. Something that would be a bigger boost to his power than becoming a Dragon.

The Rose Dragon didn't seek to make another Relic of Creation.

Instead, he would make a new Relic.

Four hours.

It had taken him four hours, that was all.

Though, that hadn't surprised him. After all, Rory had all the knowledge he needed already, and once he found the workshop, he also had the means. He had been more surprised at the lack of attempts to stop him. It seemed that even four hours after Reginald's death, no one had discovered his fate. Rory wasn't sure if he was lucky, or perhaps the design of the castle had simply worked against the Schnees. Regardless of the reason, his work was done. Four hours after the King had been killed, and Rory was finally ready to start on the rest of them.

Only, of course, he had no wish to kill only the Dragons present today. No, he wanted to kill them all. Even the ones not currently here.

Rory had no wish to fly around without a clue as to find them, however. After all, that could possibly take years to do if they fled Atlas. His determination was strong, but even stronger was the desire to see his goal fulfilled now.

Luckily, in yet another of Reginald Schnee's mistakes, he had given Rory the solution to his problem.

His scaled feet stepped across the dark grey stone of the dungeon, the claws that had replaced his toes dragging as he moved, scraping away the stone as if it were simply dirt. Though, the sound of his steps couldn't be heard. Instead, all that could be was the sound of slicing. He held the handle of the weapon in one hand, the rest of the great sword dragging behind him with minimal effort, yet, the edge still cut through the stone as if it were paper. Finally, the strange sound of the stone splitting like it was as fragile as a cloud stopped as Rory's steps did. Having reached his destination, Rory raised the blade and casually cut through the wall in front of him with only three cuts. The blade slipped through the wall like it didn't exist, easily creating a hole in the wall after Rory pushed out the excess stone.

Stepping through the hole, Rory turned his head back momentarily to glance down at the blade.

The weapon was undoubtedly beautiful, if a little lazy in its design. As its creator, he could easily see the steps skipped and the corners cut in order to make it so fast... But anyone else who looked at it, he had no doubt, would be unable to see the flaws. Even those without Silver eyes would be able to recognise how powerful it was at a glance. That energy inbuilt into the sword, the power it held, no one besides him would be able to see past it. They would only recognise the craftsmanship of the Enchantments, not the blade itself.

"I could've made it a simple block of iron and people would still think it's the most beautiful weapon they've ever seen." Though, he had taken a few more liberties than that. The blade was a glorious great sword, easily seven feet long. The leather wrapped around the handle was a matt black, the cross guard looked practically unbreakable and better for defence than any shield one could imagine... But the blade itself. It almost seemed to shift colours, there were flowing shades of Grey, White, and Green. The colours made him feel a sense of dissatisfaction. It was a reminder of the kinds of Magic the great sword used, serving as a reminder that in his inexperience, he had failed to make the weapon exactly how he wanted.

It would still accomplish the same thing, but it had taken up all the space available on the weapon. This Magic item, it was capable of only one thing. But, as far as he was aware... That was the standard for Relics, anyway.

Turning his slitted eyes away from the sword he still dragged behind him, Rory instead looked at the door in front of him. While he had been accessing his work, he had already made it to his destination. The great stone gate in front of him, the doors to the Relic Vault... Once again, he felt interested in them. Not for their design this time, rather, this time, he found it interesting that he didn't care for what was inside the Vault. Rather, the doors themselves were his goal.

Reaching his hand forward, Rory casually pressed his scaled palm on the door's weight, giving it a small push. The 'attempt' to open it accomplished nothing, except, of course, the activation of the most recent Enchantment placed on it.

He almost grinned as he watched it flare to life, the Enchantment meant to assist the Schnees had so easily been used against them. The pulse of Magic that came from it passed through him without pause, and after taking a moment to admire it... He simply moved over to the highest step leading up to the door. Moving down once, he sat down, Silver eyes directed straight to the entrance to the Vault room.

"Alright," His voice leaked with malice. "Come and get me."

Despite his confidence in their quick response, Rory was severely disappointed after it took ten minutes for the first of them to arrive. Though, he did manage a small smile when he saw who it was.

"You took your time." His comment made it across the room, despite the size of the space, the both of them could converse at a normal volume and still hear one another thanks to their hearing. "I am glad it was you first, though."

The young looking man, seeming around the same age as Rory, smirked. "Rory. I knew it." Charles Schnee shook his head, as if he had already expected this. "You're a Dragon... I guess Lady Eirwen made a mistake. Or, did father turn you?"

"I'm the one with the Dragon Formula." Standing, Rory held the sword up just enough to keep the blade off the floating steps.

As he got a better look at the great sword, Charles expression focused into a frown. "You made yourself a sword..." Despite the simplicity of his words, Rory could recognise that Charles was in awe of the weapon. "What's its name?"

Thinking that over for a moment, Rory's eyes flicked to the sword. "It doesn't have one. It doesn't really need one... It just has a goal," As he spoke, he noticed more of them pour through the doorway behind Charles. Some he recognised, some he didn't. "A task, if you will."

"And what task is that?" A different man spoke up, this one looking much more of a warrior than any of the others. It only took a moment for Rory to recognise him as the former King's Uncle, Brandon Schnee... The current Ice Dragon, and the strongest of the Schnee Dragons.

Charles, in a much quieter voice, added, "Where is my father...?"

Ignoring the younger man's question, Rory lifted the weapon proper as his wings spread out from his back. "The one and only thing this weapon has to do... Is be a Dragon Slayer."

Seemingly taking that as an answer, Charles let out a roar of anger and leaped across the room. He was only slightly slower than Brandon, the man leaped towards Rory first. While Charles opted to fully transform, the only change on Brandon's body were horns sprouting from his head, and wings flapping from his back.

"A Mastery form." Rory was aware of just how strong they were, especially for a Dragon. While most would assume it weaker than their half form, thanks to the lack of scales, the Mastery form of a Dragon was actually a bigger boost than it was for other creatures. Due to the size of a Dragon's Full form, the power in their bodies was actually much greater than one would assume. It simply spread out through their whole body. In a Mastery form, however, all that power was stuffed into a body a fraction of the size. Even despite the lack of scales, the durability of Brandon's skin would easily outclass most if not all Dragons.

When the man reached Rory, the blade the Rose Dragon wielded split him from groin to head without a second of delay.

Hot blood splattered across Rory's form as the two halves of Brandon soared past him. "Two." He thought coldly as his eyes darted to the full Dragon still charging him in the air. Even with the full power of the creature on display, Rory could still easily make out the fear in his slitted eyes. Charles made to stop his flight, his powerful wings flapping in front of him to pause his movement, but Rory leaped from his own position to meet him. Just as quickly as Brandon had been split in half, the full Dragon form of Charles suffered the loss of his head.

In the Dragon's final moments, Rory stared into his eyes with cold indifference, sailing past Charles falling body and head as he made his way to the rest of the Schnee family. The others were all still gathered at the entrance, but the majority of them had turned to flee after Brandon's death. Fortunately, however, Rory knew they had nowhere to go. In their panic, the Dragons tried to race their way back through the dungeon halls, the space of which, of course, was too slim for even one of them to fly through.

Rory caught up to the front of the pack as a swarm of rose petals, and as he reformed in front of them all, a wicked smile appeared on his expression as his blade cleaved two more of them in half. His glee was in stark contrast to their horror, and the difference only increased with every swing of his weapon. The sword, the Dragon Slayer, it fulfilled its purpose again and again. They had been foolish to come here, so many of them at once. By the time Rory had made his way to the back of the pack, the hallway was a collection of mangled body parts and blood. His count now up to twenty.

"What did all of you expect to accomplish coming here in such a large amount? I doubt all of you could have even fit in the Vault room transformed." Turning his head to look at their 'bodies' once again, Rory focused and growled. "I know there's more of you. I won't let a single one escape."

Flying down the dungeon hall once again as a cloud of red, Rory quickly entered the castle proper. Upon reaching a hall above ground, he reformed and crashed through one of the nearby windows, flying upwards in order to get a better view of the castle. He was surprised to see a few figures waiting in the courtyard, one of which had fully transformed into a Dragon. Though... In this open of a space, he knew that they would be able to flee.

"I don't know how fast I am compared to the rest... Like the others, these ones might run once they see what this sword can do..." Nodding his head at his own assessment, Rory raised the blade up into the air. Holding it high above him as he hovered above the castle, Rory allowed his Mana to flow into the blade... and increased its power.

This sword, this Relic, this Dragon Slayer. Its power was great, but flawed. It was not - as many would assume - simply incredibly sharp. Rather, Rory had devised a method that allowed it to slip through objects. It was a complicated process, and one that was deeply taxing to use, but the benefit of it of course was that the sword would have to be deployed very scarcely for each target. The base of the system was the usage of barriers wrapped around the sword's edge. Using Anti-Magic, the sword would quickly activate and deactivate the Barriers in quick succession. When done at a fast enough rate, it created a saw-like effect on the blade's edge.

Using this same Enchantment, the sword could also create larger barriers meant to do the same thing. However, these would need to be limited even further by the Relic in order for them to be properly maintained.

Keeping his sword raised, Rory pulsed his Mana into it and fitted the restrictions of his choice into the Barrier he wished to construct. As he did so, an incredibly large light green dome began to form It's away around the entirety of the Atlas castle. Its formation was fast, too fast for any of the unprepared Dragons to escape. When one of them attempted to do so, Rory felt a great satisfaction wash over himself as the man hit the side of the Barrier, unable to make even a dent in it.

Rory usually wouldn't have been able to maintain the barrier himself, especially not if the Dragons tried to cancel it out with their own Mana. But, fortunately, he didn't need to maintain it. The restrictions he had set on the Barrier were powerful enough that it didn't take more of his Mana than he naturally regained overtime. The restrictions in question... Was the loss of the Barrier's functionality against any who were not Dragons. As well as the loss of his ability to dismiss the Barrier when he chose. Instead, the Barrier would drop when no more Dragons existed inside of it.

Most likely having felt the Magic spawned from his weapon, the Dragons below him all turned to the sky, their eyes set on him before they sprung into action. Rory grinned as they charged into the sky towards him, all of them taking on the might of a full Dragon as they did. Spreading out his arms and folding his wings into a dive, Rory met them halfway to the ground, and once more he began to fell Dragon after Dragon.

The bloodshed around him, the satisfaction it brought him was only matched by the sight of their bodies falling from the sky, crushing parts of the castle as they hit it from above. In his glee, Rory couldn't help but let out a roaring laughter, his blade swinging once again to meet another Dragon's armoured neck, slicing through it like nothing was there to stop him. Roars of pain sounded around him, whelps that served as the final sounds of these great beasts escaped their throats in dying gasps. By the time the skies were clear, Rory's blade was now red, and his body would have been if not already for the colour of his scales.

"Twenty-Nine." The number made him grin once more, his body feeling relaxed as he looked towards the sky. As he stared at the sombre sky... The dark grey clouds that softly dropped fresh white snow on the now crimson snow that covered the castle... His mind wandered. "Why am I so angry again...?"

"They killed Eirwen." He decided. "No they didn't... That was Violet... She killed Eirwen, then Reginald killed her..." Silence overtook him for a moment, his mind unsure of itself. "Why do I hate them so much...? I hate Dragons... But why...? Because they're selfish...? Because they don't care about others...?" His gaze slowly dropped from the sky, instead looking down to see all the corpses beneath him... The dead Dragons that covered the castle.

"I thought I wasn't a killer..." Tears welled in his eyes. "I can bring myself to do this... But I couldn't kill the woman that murdered Eirwen...?" An overwhelming pain filled his head, the sensation so sudden and stinging that he dropped the weapon as both his hands moved up to grasp his head. A scream of pain escaped him, his wings faltering due to his loss of focus, and without noticing he fell from the sky.

Hitting the ground with a great slam, white and red snow was thrown into the air from the impact, mixing in the air before it hit the ground once more. Rory's screams continued, the pain searing into his skull too overwhelming for him to think through. The two personalities, his normal one, and the one altered by Pride, battled in his head. The battlefield was his mind, and they left ruin behind as they sought to reject each other. His body, his mind, his Soul, all of it tried its best to reject Pride, but the power had a tight hold on him.

In this pain, in the panic he felt from it, his body flared with power and transformed completely. After assuming the full size of the Rose Dragon, Rory's eyes blinked with tears of pain before the migraine began to settle. In his half form, neither himself nor Pride were capable of winning. Like this, though? The victory was Pride and Pride's alone.

Taking a moment to get a hold of himself, Rory's eyes flickered around. "Did I miss anyone...?" Taking flight, he was ready to assume that he had killed them all for a moment... Until his eyes settled on a figure running to the Barrier. Despite his rage, Rory still held enough intelligence to dive back to where he had crashed first. Retrieving his weapon before charging after the figure. Reaching the edge of the barrier first, Rory settled into his half form once more, and brandished his weapon... Before freezing.

The person before him... The boy with pure white hair... Nicholas Schnee. The twelve-year-old Human prince. Both the Prince, and Rory, were stunned. Neither of them moved. One out of fear, and the other out of horror. Rory, he didn't know what to do. A part of him told him to let the boy go... He wasn't a threat, after all. Nicholas wasn't a Dragon, and wouldn't be able to become one without the Dragon Formula... Rory could easily step aside and let him walk through the barrier... But... There was another part of him. A louder part... Telling him to swing his sword.

Stepping closer, Rory watched the Prince's eyes well with tears of fear. From Rory's perspective, the boy was back dropped by a white castle covered in blood and the corpses of Dragons... It disgusted him. Not the sight... The fact that he revelled in it.

"... M-Mother... Help me...!" Nicholas fell backwards into the red snow, his face covered in tears as he cried out with a trembling voice for Elizabeth.

Bringing his sword up, Rory's expression tightened. "She's already dead." As he prepared to bring his sword down... He paused. After all, he hadn't seen her here today at all. Perhaps he had been wrong...? Perhaps she hadn't shown at all? No, he had surely killed her already. As the Queen of Atlas, she was probably the person Reginald trusted the most. He wouldn't just let her leave for no reason. Even if he did, she would have returned when Rory triggered the trap on the Vault door. "Perhaps she was still in the city...?"

But what would she have gone into the city for? There were only so many things the Queen would have to go and do herself... Especially after the death of someone as important as Eirwen...

That's when it occurred to him. "Eirwen's body... It's still in my room, right...? But..." Her wound had been caused by a Rot Blade.

Where was the weapon?

A piercing pain met his back, Rory's perception of time was just fast enough that he could feel the blade pass through his flesh and ribs, pierce his heart, and exit out of his chest. The only thing that kept him from screaming was the recent experience of the pain in his head, compared to that, this was negligible. Turning, Rory ripped the sword from his attacker's hands and swept his own blade across them, cleaving the top half of their head off with a single slash. In the brief moment before she had lost the top of her head, Rory had recognised her as Elizabeth.

Her corpse met the ground as he dropped to his knees. The weapon tightly kept in his hand dropped from his grasp, sinking into the snow with a gentle noise. Slowly, Rory turned his eyes down to look at the red blade coming from his chest. "A Rot Blade... Not that it matters... I don't know Healing Magic..." Collapsing to the ground completely, Rory felt his life slowly fading away. It was strange, like a tug on his Soul... Like something was beckoning him away.

"I feel... Strange..." Despite his efforts, Rory still didn't feel like he had done enough. He felt unsatisfied, unaccomplished. His heart only kept beating purely thanks to the strength of the Dragon... But he only had mere moments left. "Someone... Someday... Will figure it out again... I know it... There will be another Dragon..." Managing a small grin, Rory's claw slowly carved a Ritual into the snow next to him. "But I'm also sure... That there will be another Rose Dragon one day..." Fuelling the Ritual himself, the Curse... He allowed his Mana to flood into the Circle, yet, it still wasn't enough.

So, with the only goal he had left, with his last breath... Rory used his Soul to power the Ritual. Consuming it, converting it into Mana... Ensuring that he would never see what came after this life. Instead, Rory Rose, the corrupted version of himself he became, forever devoted himself to ensuring Dragons never returned.

Someone Else

"And what a failure that was." Standing up, their eyes focused and assessed the room around them. They had memories of this place, lots of memories... Yet, they felt foreign. Wrong. Not actually theirs. "Rory was a fool... He tried to do the impossible... Instead, all he managed was dooming himself to never seeing what comes next." Turning, their pure red cloak flowed behind them as they began their way down the steps leading down to the rest of the Workshop. "If there is an afterlife, Eirwen might still be waiting for him."

Finding their way to one of the benches around the room, their eyes flickered over the scythe sitting on it. The 'Legendary tier' weapon was beautiful, but compared to even the pathetic excuse of a Relic that was the 'Dragon Slayer' they knew that it was awful. "Still. This will serve as a base. It will save time, I won't need to start from scratch." Rather, they would just have to form this weapon into something truly beautiful.

"Its funny," They commented while moving over to grab some of the notebooks strewn about randomly. "She always assumed that Rory knew more than her... Always assumed that Rory was so much better at making weapons than she was... But she was wrong." Flicking their hood off, they frowned when long red and black hair fell down the back of their cloak. "Rory could only make something better thanks to his viewing of the Staff of Creation." Standing up, they moved over to a nearby bench and picked a knife up off of it. Casually holding their long hair with their other hand, the majority of the long locks were rended with a single slash.

Satisfied with the much shorter hair, they moved back to the scythe. "She was leagues beyond what Rory was capable of. Save for his knowledge on Relics." Sitting down, they smirked. "The majority of this... Will be her work. Ruby's work." Resting a hand on the scythe's blade, they continued, "If Ruby had seen a Relic for herself... I wouldn't be here."

Glancing over at the white cloak sitting on a nearby bench, they frowned as they felt nothing at the sight. "I'm not Ruby... But I'm not Rory either..." Thinking for a second, they glanced down at their body. Silver eyes rested on their chest, and they felt themselves sigh. "Not that it matters anyway, but I think it will just be easier to call myself a woman." She had no intention of ever taking a partner after all. Weiss was Ruby's, Eirwen was Rory's, and the last third of her held no love or affection for anyone. Only a single goal.

"Protect Ruby Schnee's family." Getting to work, she began to create a weapon that would be capable of doing just that. A weapon that could protect them.

From anything.

5th Day, Twelfth Strike, 2117 PE