Circa 2776BBRW / 5224AC

What is love?

Is it something you feel? The cause of all of our sufferings, yet the bringer of our greatest joys? A power unmeasurable that fuels actions worthy of the gods? In legends immemorial people would move the very mountains for the ones they loved, simply to be with that person. Is love something given? A physical thing to be gifted and received by someone you care for? Something to fight for, something to bring warmth, something to treasure? Or is love a pact? A vow between two, or more, people. A thing to defend, to bond over, to bring together.

Love is… a wonderful thing. Important and valuable in any form, love is something beautiful and something to be cherished. A union between two people, two halves becoming one whole until time itself withers away. Certainty and uncertainty together, a paradox. Two beings knowing for certain that they belong together, and uncertain of what the future holds for them. Love is a bonded shield to protect those two people from that certainty, because together they have the certainty that no matter what happens they will have each other…

Love is… a terrible thing.

In the western regions of Alagaësia, east of the Spine, night had fallen. Insects chirped and the local animals slept, and stars glittered above like millions of gemstones. It was a blissful peace, broken by a piercing wail. A gut-wrenching scream conveying agony and pain, but not of any physical wound. It was a wail of a heart ripped in half. It was a cry so terrible and so powerful that time itself seemed to pause, forever capturing the moment, permanently scarring the region even if no physical wound deformed the land.

Knelt on the grass, the Ancient Dragon Lansseax screamed to the unfamiliar heavens above her. Clutched tightly to her human form, head resting upon her breast, was Vyke. Still, unmoving, unbreathing, dead. Tears ran rivers down her face, her normally golden eyes rimmed red, bloodshot. She didn't care if someone saw her, she didn't care if someone heard her, for all she felt was her heart shattering.

This wasn't her plan, this wasn't the way she wanted things to go… When she had learned that her Vyke was trapped in an accursed Evergaol in the Mountaintops she didn't even hesitate. She knew of his betrayal, of the Frenzy that infested him, but he was hers. And when she looked upon his form, when their eyes met for the first time in an age, she knew that he was still himself. She couldn't bring herself to kill him, for he was the one she loved most. And likewise she saw the shame in his eyes, the heartache as she wiped away his tears over and over again. Her forgiveness meant nothing in the face of an outer god. But her rage did.

She was an Ancient Dragon, a leader of the Dragon Cult, and one of the firstborn. Vyke was hers. He did not belong to the outer god of Frenzy! But the god of the Ancient Dragons was gone and dead, her consort Placidusax and the first true Elden Lord were gone. The Greater Will had spurned their race, and the remaining outer gods had their own vessels of interest. There was no being that could stand against an outer god of this world, not even her.

Love… drives people to do the impossible.

Using a considerable amount of her power, weakening and injuring herself to the protest of her Vyke, she tore a hole in the fabric that made up the Lands Between. If this world was bent on taking away what she cared about, then she was done with it. A world away would be enough, and if it wasn't she would simply find another. She would spend as much of her power as she needed to, she would kill herself in this endeavor, if it meant that Vyke would be free of that accursed Flame.

But it wasn't enough.

Love… drives people to foolish actions.

The Frenzy seemed to laugh at them, because a world away and it lingered still. So despite her love's protests, despite the agony she was inflicting upon herself she took them to another world. And then another, and another, and another. Until they ended up here… and even here, Frenzy lingered still. Lansseax knew in her heart that attempting this again would mean her death. At this point Vyke was more powerful than her, and though her power would return to her it would take a long time. He showed that by taking her hands into his own. She needed them to cast the spell, but he wouldn't let her. She fought against him, raged, all but attacked him, but he didn't respond, he just smiled at her.

He knew… both of them knew that at any moment one of The Frenzy's envoys could simply take Vyke for their own. In her current state she wouldn't fall to it, she never could, but that wouldn't stop the imposter from killing her. He made the decision for them. He would rather die with her and as himself than risk that possibility. Fate was cruel, because far as they were, if Vyke died here there was no Grace to resurrect him. Death was a part of this world, so there was nothing allowing Frenzy a foothold if it's one potential agent was gone.

Lansseax tried to stop him, but in the end she could only watch as her beloved knight impaled himself with his own spear. She could barely crawl over to him, holding him close as red pooled around them. His last moments would be forever etched into her memory, a scar that would never heal.

A rough hand to her delicate cheek, a smile full of things he wanted to say, things left undone, and the last time she would ever see his red eyes free of Frenzy.

His last words conveyed it all, all of it and more. And then his hand fell away. Lansseax was an Ancient Dragon, kin of Placidusax, immortal, one of the most powerful beings in the Lands Between. None of it meant anything anymore.

Eventually the dragon in human form couldn't scream anymore, either unable or having just ran out of air. Instead she broke down into sobs, huddled close to the most important human in her long life. She didn't know how long she stayed like that. She didn't care to notice the moon fall away for the morning sun, or how the process continued to the next night. Weakened as she was, nothing would interrupt her mourning lest they face oblivion. Time after all, was not an object of the Farum's denizens. But either due to her weakened state, the fact that she was unknown to the world, or simply the nature of beasts, she would not be afforded any more time.

Sounds cut through her sobbing; rough laughing, a snarling and guttural language, and a dozen or so footsteps. A burning sensation spread throughout her body, mixing with and muddling the overwhelming sorrow and pain. Her face twisted into a snarl before it settled into a mask of cold fury. Standing with some difficulty she turned to face her interlopers. They weren't human, though they did share a humanoid form. They stood around her own human height with three of them standing two to three feet taller than her. Their skin was a grayish-yellow and with their hair they had a pair of twisting horns. They adorned themselves in leathers and furs and carried crude but deadly looking weapons. Lansseax stood to her full height and moved protectively over Vyke's fallen form.

"I have traveled the skeins of existence itself, I have laid low a city thought to be impregnable, I fostered one of the most powerful cults ever to grace the Lands Between." With a flare of her power two draconic horns breached her hair. Her golden yellow eyes became slitted. And four great wings sprouted from her back, the skin an iridescent gold surrounded by stone scales. "You do not know my name, so I will show you. Fear shall be a teacher that ensures your pitiful race never forgets my wrath!" Lifting into the air she held out her left hand, calling upon her power to form a glaive of red lightning.

"I am Lansseax The Ancient! And I shall show you true TERROR!"

And blinded by rage, she descended as a lightning strike, the thunder of her attack echoing for miles as the sky was filled with a rageful crimson glow.

C. 2774BBRW / 5226AC

Her melancholy and despondency had not abated with time. If anything, the ragged wound that Vyke's passing had caused only festered with time. The immediate result was the horror she had wrought on the horned non-humans. She had lashed out from a place of pain with the intention of causing pain, not even trying to facilitate communication. Their deaths were of little consequence, but her actions were shameful nonetheless. The place of her arrival and his death had been forever changed by her grief as well. Time seemed to have captured her agony, and anywhere within a significant stretch of land induced a feeling of grief and loss. She had wounded the land itself alongside the wound in time; as the land she struck with her lightning still had yet to foster any kind of life.

She would never be able to move on, not entirely, but laying Vyke to rest brought about a sense of finality that was… somewhat comforting. He would lie free of an outer god's ambitions, and would rest as wholly himself. Vyke's final resting place was exactly where she had held him last. She had purified his spear from the touch of Frenzy and placed it into the earth, blade reaching for the endless sky above. Surrounding him were eight massive scales she had torn from her own draconian body. One of her scales could somewhat twist and alter time. Eight of them ensured beyond a shadow of a doubt that this glade would stay the same no matter how many years passed. With Vyke's affairs set, she finally departed her small corner of the world. The Lands Between rested multiple worlds away, and they held nothing for her. With no reason to return, she… explored.

This world was young.

If humanity existed, they were most certainly not the masters of this world. There were no large cities that she could discern, no towns or villages, or even huts. Likewise the forests told a story of little interference. Magic was present here, but its source was not one that Lansseax was familiar with. It was akin to grasping at a cloud, close but ultimately untouchable. Her mind could not deduce the cause, and her sole answer to this mystery was likewise unattainable. Before their collapse, the Eternal Cities resorted to mimicry to form a lord of their own. Could she do the same? Her "progeny" may find the answers she lacked with insight of their own, but she had no discernible way to craft mimics or their tears.

There were other races that called this land home. The creatures she had lashed out at unfairly, and she had seen glimpses of short humanoids that called the mountains their home. She had also caught glimpses of human-like beings arriving on ships and living in a great forest. Foul winged creatures had observed her, but in her full draconic glory they wisely reasoned her as an unsuitable target. Familiar animals dwelled in these lands as well. She had hunted stags in the plains and great boars in the mountains across a vast desert. Wolves she had seen as well, similar in size to those in the Forbidden Snow Fields. But all paled in comparison to the most notable denizens.

Dragons inhabited this continent… But they were no kin of hers.

These dragons came in a variety of sizes, and if they followed the logic of the Farum then their size denoted their age. Many were her own size, and some were larger still. They came in a variety of colors as well, scales shining like gemstones in the sun. They were impressive creatures, but…

They lacked her stone scales, making their immortality questionable. They also only had two wings while she made use of four, though they walked the earth on four limbs unlike the Farum's wyvern descendants. But most damning was their lack of lightning. She had seen them use fire like any dragon should, but not once had she witnessed the familiar red lightning of the Ancient Dragons. Not even the cold lightning of the Eternal Cities.

They had no link to the Outer goddess of dragons. They were not kin. So though it was no fault of their own, they were lesser. She had no doubts that some of them were at least aware of her presence, but neither she nor they had made any attempts to contact one another. She had no reason to, nor any real want to. They were undeniably intelligent, but interacting with not-kin wasn't appealing. But like with the horned beings from before, this world would force her claws.

In one of her jaunts to observe the eastern portions of the continent she was accosted by a wave of distress and panic. Most confusingly though was the fact that it did not originate from her. Far below her was the single greatest mountain range she had discovered, and the home of the mountain-dwellers. Curiously though from her vantage she could spot a small splash of green amidst the endless gray. Descending through the clouds she spotted an unfortunate sight; a small dragon was being accosted by a group of the mountain-dwellers. It was not a common sight, but she had seen dragons engaging in brief skirmishes with these non-humans before. But this time was different, for curiously enough the dragon was not attacking offensively.

There is no reason for me to intervene… Lansseax thought. But despite her thoughts she was already descending. A dragon would easily dispatch the non-humans. My help is not needed… Wind whipped past her being, the mountains and the fight grew ever closer. Honestly…

Her shadow blocked the sun, and now that she was close enough she could pick out the mountain-dwellers. They were… short. Clad in heavy plate armor with finely crafted weapons and inventions. There isn't a need… And yet she was already past the point of no return. As her shadow grew, one of the non-humans took notice and frantically tried to draw attention. It was too late, and the majority were too engaged in their not-fight to notice her.

Flaring her four mighty wings she slammed into the stone and dirt below her, shaking the earth and sending debris flying from her point of impact. Many of the non-humans were thrown to the ground, the ones closest to her were simply sent flying from the shockwave. Even the not-kin wasn't spared, as it was thrown off balance and struggled to its feet. It stared at her, awe filling its intelligent and inquisitive emerald eyes. Lansseax regarded it for a moment, noting its scales shining like gemstones. This was the closest she had ever been to one of the not-kin, and she had been correct; they were lesser.

The not-kin barely reached her shoulder and was covered in shiny emerald-like scales. Two proportionally mighty wings sprouted from its back and a long flared tail extended from its rear. Two curved horns jutted from its skull, and a row of spines ran the length of its body. An impressive being to most, most likely young, but ultimately unimpressive to her.

Lansseax let loose a titanic roar, flaring her wings to buffet the area with a wave of force. The guttural noise physically shook the area, reverberating and echoing for potentially miles. She did not utilize her lightning, such a show of force was wholly unnecessary. The non-humans panicked in a hasty retreat, their quarry was a juvenile not-kin. They had not been prepared—and never would be—to face her in combat. She did not pursue, nor did she attack them from behind. Scant minutes later the only two visible beings were the not-kin and Lansseax herself.

Regarding the not-kin, it was wholly ignored now that the deed was done. There was a body of water nearby that she had spotted from the air, a drink wouldn't be remiss and perhaps there was something to hunt. A probing tendril poked at her thoughts, and was ignored completely. With a leap Lansseax was back in the air, already moving towards that lake. Again that tendril prodded at her mind, testing, looking for something. The Ancient Dragon landed at the shore of the lake, a decently sized body of water fed by a small waterfall. Irritatingly she also heard the sound of flapping wings followed by the not-kin landing a fair distance away from her. Again that probing tendril tickled at her mind, and seeing that she wouldn't shake the nuisance without flying all the way back 'home' she reluctantly opened her mind to it. Surprise echoed across the link, the unfamiliarity of the opposing mind making her hackles rise. 'Dragon' though the creature was, the mind was nothing like her own kin.

Her mind must have been equally alien to the young not-kin, and it was only after linking their minds that Lansseax limited the scope. A being as ancient as her would probably be… overwhelming, to say the least. The young dragon continually flipped between awe, shock, and other emotions the ancient couldn't quite identify. The noncommittal staring was beginning to grate her nerves, as if the younger couldn't make up its mind.

Lansseax growled in irritation, the simple noise nearly shaking the loose stones beneath her feet. 'If all you are going to do is stare and share your emotions, then why did you open this link?'

Shock echoed across the link, only spiking the elder's irritation. 'Ah!' A young girl's voice breached her thoughts, 'I apologize, I simply wanted to thank you for resolving that… situation.'

'I needn't have interfered at all, if you had simply fought.' Lansseax stated, gathering a mouthful of water from the lake. Guilt and shame broke through the link, and another glance to the younger revealed she had curled her tail around her talons. The reluctance was intentional after all, it would seem.

'I… did not want to fight in the first place. My mother warned me of the two-legs, how they reveled in violence. I didn't believe her, and wanted to see for myself.' Her tail curled closer. 'I should have listened.' Her tone was almost mournful, disappointed. Lansseax's irritation was reaching its boiling point, but another part of her clawed its way to the surface, a part long suppressed. It was the dragon priestess, the one that sat patiently with her knights, with her sentinels, and debated philosophy with them.

Her own tail swished lazily and she regarded the youngling tentatively. 'Lesser beings fear that which they do not understand. Listening to your elders is wise, but discovering the world for yourself is equally so… What is your name?'

The emerald dragon straightened up. 'Aruvel.'

'Then I name you Aruvel Keen-Eyed, for you wish to see the world for what it truly is, and are brave enough to do so.' With that Lansseax turned to leave, her patience long since depleted.

'Wait! I—' Lansseax's growl interrupted Aruvel but the elder forced a wave of calm over herself. Seeing her sole opportunity, the young dragon took a step forward. 'Before you leave… Are you distant kin? I've… never seen a being like you before.'

'Be assured that I am no kin of yours. And you never will.' With a huff Lansseax severed the mental link and flew high into the sky. A quick confirmation showed that Aruvel did not follow, and the Ancient Dragon began her flight back westward.

—Among the deities of the Urgals, Lansrax is an oddity. The tale describes a hunting party returning home when they happened upon what was believed to be an elf grieving over another. They foolishly interrupted and the goddess revealed herself, bringing ruin upon them. Lansrax is used as a tool to keep children in line, lest they incur the wrath of the goddess of anger and lightning. She is described as a pale woman with flowing white hair, two straight horns, and four great wings.

—To the elves, the wandering mourner is believed to be one of the last of the Grey Folk. In the rare interactions she has shown incredible wisdom and intelligence, and any forays to touch her mind reveal a great sadness and loss. She is described as a pale woman with elfin ears and golden eyes.

—To the dragons, there have been rare sightings of a dragon with four wings and scales of stone. Very few have personally interacted with her, and those that did testify that her mind is utterly unknowable. When one touches her mind, they submit themselves to the full weight of time. She is described as a massive dragon with stone-like scales and four large wings with golden stony membranes.

—The dwarves have reported sightings of a great four-winged beast, and one sole interaction. Descriptions vary depending on who you ask.

If you recognize me, I'm alive, but I'm running a clean slate. If you don't, welcome! This idea came out of nowhere but I couldn't get it out of my head, so I thought I'd put it out there and see how it's received. The first chapter is a bit short, but in the future I'll try to get them out to around 5,000 words. I can't guarantee a schedule or how frequently I'll update, but I have a relative outline with some fun ideas.

Ironically I know more about the lore of Elden Ring than I do Inheritance Cycle, but I have the books and if I notice any lore-breaking discrepancies I'll fix them.

If you've made it here, thanks for giving this a read! I hope you enjoy it.

—Digital