Arc 1: Wyvern Rebellion - Chapter 21
The peaks of Mount Hakobe were a crown of snow and ice, the wind whipping a treacherous melody of calm punctuated by sudden bursts of danger. This realm, harsh and unforgiving, held little appeal for the faint of heart. But high above the biting blizzard, a solitary figure carved out a sliver of peace. Xaerion, King of the Wyverns, perched atop a snow-dusted peak. His obsidian scales, etched with emerald highlights, seemed at odds with the kindness and thoughtfulness that resided within him. Though his eyes, usually pools of gentle wisdom, held a flicker of unease that betrayed the turmoil churning beneath their surface. He gazed out at the horizon, the endless chain of mountains swallowed by the swirling clouds. A fiery flicker caught his peripheral vision. A familiar form, a crimson dragon known for pride and power, descended with a graceful sweep, the wind parting before its mighty wings.
"Igneel," Xaerion rumbled, his voice a low tremor that echoed across the peaks. "I didn't think you'd come. You used to hate coming here when we were young." The Wyvern King expressed. Igneel gave a chuckle that matched the rumbling of his good friend.
"Only because you believed that a land full of snow and ice would counter my mighty flames. You were always cunning." Igneel replied. The two sat in silence for a moment. It wasn't that neither them had nothing to say, but rather, Igneel sensed something. There was a sort of anticipation in the air. He could see Xaerion's eyes stare off, his eyes settling on nothing in particular. Igneel could see that his friend's mind was occupied.
"Tell me why we are here. I had assumed you'd be busy with your people's Council of Scales." The crimson dragon said. The Wyvern King's eyes lowered, the permanent menacing look he was born with faltering. He turned to face Igneel.
"I will be shortly. But, I know their minds are made up. They wish to fight Acnologia, retain our pride like your kind does. But I know that our strengths differ from the raw power of your magic. This monster has already slaughtered plenty of dragons. I know none of my people would be able to hold a candle to him. I myself admit that I would not be able to take him alone. At most, I could wound him permanently, but at the cost of my life." Xaerion admitted. Igneel tilted his head, wondering what his friend was trying to say.
"Then let us fight together! Our combined power should be more than enough to take Acnologia down!" Igneel offered. But his friend didn't respond in the way that he had hoped.
"And what will happen when my people's king falls in combat? My son is too young and brash to take a leadership role. He is not ready. And Ullr, his close human companion, agrees with me. I cannot take arms like we used to, diving deep into battle. There is more than me that I have to think about, Igneel." The Wyvern King expressed. Even Igneel could feel the weight of responsibility bearing down on his companion. He huffed, trying to feign pride.
"If I were Wyvern King, I'd roar the council into submission. They wouldn't dare oppose me." He said with an aggressive grumble. Xaerion laughed, knowing his friend for far too long.
"If only I had the heart for that...Wyrnxoth... my son... he's too impetuous. The Council would push him to war, and his fury would blind him to the cost." A flicker of a father's fear crossed Xaerion's hardened features. "No... I believe I have another path that we must take. One that has never been done before..." The Wyvern admitted.
Igneel narrowed his eyes, knowing his friend had a penchant for coming up with unique solutions for these types of problems. The flame drake stayed silent, allowing the Wyvern room for his plan.
"I will use Wyvern magic to combine time and space, and create a path out of this world."
"Xaerion, you tread the path of a madman! This Time-Space magic… it's beyond your kind, beyond any of us! Do you think to play god? The consequences could tear this world apart." His voice, usually booming, cracked with worry. "Are you so sure your precious Wyverns will survive exile? This gamble could wipe you from existence entirely!" Yet, there'd be an undercurrent of desperation beneath his anger.
"There are whispers... legends of other worlds. If a Dragon could pierce the veil, perhaps Wyvern magic could as well. It is a fleeting hope, but it is all I have left." His voice trailed off, a hint of longing in his eyes.
"Tell me, Xaerion, have you lost all hope? Would not Dragons welcome your people? Why turn your backs on your allies? The humans... they were forced to fight back against Acnologia," Igneel rumbled, his voice tinged with the bitterness of old wounds. "Irene, the Dragon Queen, created that damned Slayer Magic. A desperate measure, but one that fractured our already fragile peace."
Xaerion nodded grimly. "If a single human could bring down a Dragon, imagine what they could do to a Wyvern. Even if we found sanctuary amongst your kind, the danger would follow. No, there must be another way. Peace with Dragons is a fleeting dream. Some amongst your kind would never accept our pact with the Wyverns. They viewed us as lesser beings, tools to be used. Even if they agreed to fight Acnologia, I fear others would see our weakness as an opportunity to eliminate a rival before it grew stronger. The human companion, Ullr, is young, but wise in the ways of our magic. Perhaps, if we survive… he could bridge the gap between our races, buy us time to return someday."
Igneel blinked, startled. "A human... versed in Wyvern magic? Truly, these are strange times."
"Desperation makes one grab at any opportunity, Igneel. In your role as Dragon King, you kept order and kept everything balanced. I took heed to that example you've shown. And I will do everything in my power to protect my people, even dance with the Black Wizard himself."
Igneel scowled. He understood his friend's position all too well. But being on the other side, he'd forgot the responsibility of a king. The fire dragon exhaled.
"You are cunning, Xaerion. I trust you will have a solution. I urge you not to be rash. The love of a son is powerful... too powerful at times." His voice softened, the unspoken reference to his own missing son hanging heavy in the air.
With a final nod, Igneel launched himself into the sky, his mighty wings beating a sorrowful rhythm against the gathering storm clouds. Xaerion watched him go, the loneliness of his path settling like a shroud on his shoulders.
The wind howled a mournful song as Xaerion entered the cavern that served as his son's training ground. Wyrnxoth, a young Wyvern with scales the color of his father's, sparred with Ullr, his human companion. Ullr, lithe and swift, dodged Wyrnxoth's fiery breath with practiced ease, retaliating with a well-timed blast of wind magic that sent the young Wyvern staggering back.
"Again!" Ullr called out, a smile etched on his youthful face.
The training ground echoed with the sound of panting breaths and playful insults. Wyrnxoth and Ullr lay sprawled on the ground, exhausted but grinning.
"Not bad for a human," Wyrnxoth admitted, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. "Almost quick enough to dodge my fire breath."
Ullr returned the grin, pushing sweaty hair out of his face. "And you, almost strong enough to withstand a full-powered wind blast. Someday, maybe."
Their laughter faded, replaced by a moment of serious contemplation.
"When Acnologia comes," Wyrnxoth murmured, his eyes filled with unwavering determination, "the Wyverns will be ready. We'll show the world our true might."
Ullr met his gaze. "And I'll be right there beside you, wielding the power you've taught me. Together, we'll face anything."
Xaerion stepped forward, his voice a rumble that broke the moment. "Enough for today."
Ullr bowed and retreated, leaving Wyrnxoth and his father alone. A flicker of concern crossed Xaerion's face as he watched Ullr vanish from sight, then turned towards his son. Wyrnxoth approached cautiously, sensing the weight of his father's emotions.
"Father," Wyrnxoth began, his youthful enthusiasm momentarily dampened. He had sensed the tension hanging heavy in the air. "Is everything alright?"
Xaerion's gaze softened. He saw Wyrnxoth not just as a son, but as his heir, the future of their people. Pride and fear warred within him. "Your training?" he finally managed, his voice gruffer than usual. "Ullr tells me of your progress. Are you satisfied?"
Wyrnxoth straightened, a touch of the familiar arrogance returning. "Satisfied? Of course! I grow stronger with each passing day. Soon, not even the fiercest dragon could stand against my power."
Xaerion nodded slowly, a flicker of doubt clouding his eyes. Was bravado enough to shield his son from the coming storm? Could youthful idealism withstand the true horrors Acnologia represented? His thoughts drifted back to his conversation with Igneel, to the tales of dragons broken and scattered.
"We may have new challenges to face, challenges that require more than raw strength," Xaerion said, choosing his words carefully. "We must be adaptable, Wyrnxoth. We must be willing to change."
Wyrnxoth's emerald eyes narrowed in confusion. "Change? Wyverns have always done things one way – the right way. Why change what isn't broken?"
Xaerion closed his eyes momentarily, the weight of his unspoken burden pressing down on him. How could he explain to his son that their time-honored ways, their very existence, stood on the precipice of annihilation?
"Come," he finally said, his voice thick with a determination born of desperation. "There is much to discuss. The Council awaits."
Xaerion led his son through the labyrinthine tunnels that burrowed beneath Mount Hakobe, towards the grand chamber where the Council of Scales awaited. Wyrnxoth, sensing his father's unease, walked in silence, a frown on his face.
The cavernous room blazed with torches, casting long shadows upon the ancient Wyvern elders. They perched upon time-worn stone ledges, their obsidian scales gleaming with an otherworldly sheen. The scent of ages clung to the air, mingled with a subtle undercurrent of mistrust. These counselors had guided the Wyverns through centuries, their wisdom steeped in tradition. Change threatened to extinguish the flame of their heritage.
Xaerion strode into the center of the chamber, Wyrnxoth trailing behind. As he took his place before the Council, a chorus of rumbling voices washed over him, a mix of reverence for their King and a cautious skepticism that bordered on accusation.
"King Xaerion," a wizened elder hissed, his voice sharp as a talon, "we have long awaited word of your plans. Acnologia's sight will eventually turn on us. Will the Sky Dominion stand and fight, or cower beneath our wings?"
Xaerion nodded, contemplating their question. He knew the answer, the challenge was how he could introduce it and have everyone on the same page.
"Council, my people, I stand before you with a plan unlike any other. I will ensure the survival of the Wyvern race, regardless of the cost. Acnologia has turned on the Humans and Dragons, a cataclysm that has swept the world. But he will not take any lives while I live." He started.
A ripple of unease spread through the gathered elders. Their eyes, gleaming with a wisdom of centuries, narrowed with suspicion.
"Bold words, King Xaerion," the wizened elder hissed, his voice trembling slightly. "Survival? At any cost? What heresy is this? Have you forgotten the oath of the Sky Dominion? To protect, to uphold, to die with honor upon the field of battle!"
A chorus of agreement rumbled through the chamber. Wyrnxoth shifted uncomfortably, sensing the electricity in the air. This was not the lesson in leadership he had expected.
"Enough!" He yelled. "I will not stand idly by and allow my people, our people, to throw their lives away. No amount of power on Earth-Land can face him. His immunity to magic has made him invincible. Pride means nothing if we die in vain. You all have families; sons, daughters, parents, brothers, and sisters. You would do anything to defend them. I would gladly give my life for my son if it meant he lived. I will harness our magic to do what has never been done before. I will combine time and space magic to create an escape to other worlds. Yes, other worlds exist beyond our own. It is the best, and only way, to guarantee our survival."
The cavern echoed with a stunned silence. The Council elders, frozen in their postures, looked at Xaerion as if seeing him for the first time. His words, challenging centuries of tradition, hung heavy in the air.
The wizened elder, his face contorted in anger, finally broke the silence. "Escape? Abandon our home, our legacy? Dragons may flee, humans may cower, but Wyverns stand their ground! We fight, King Xaerion, not cower in some fantastical otherworld!"
A murmur of agreement rippled through the chamber. Wyrnxoth, eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and awe, watched the scene unfold. This was far more than he bargained for.
Xaerion met the elder's gaze, his voice steady despite the tremor in his heart. "This is not cowardice, elder. It is survival. Will you sacrifice everything we hold dear for an impossible victory?" He swept his gaze across the chamber, his voice resonating with a quiet power. "Look at yourselves. We are dwindling. Acnologia consumes magic, and with each battle, we weaken. Time and space magic may be untrodden territory, but it is our only hope!"
A flicker of doubt crossed the face of one of the other elders. She exchanged a furtive glance with another council member, a silent debate brewing in their eyes. The tide might be turning, albeit slowly.
The chamber erupted in a cacophony of voices. Council members shouted over each other, some supporting Xaerion's radical vision, others vehemently denouncing it. In the chaos, the wizened elder, his face red with fury, raised his voice above the din.
"This...this madness will be our undoing!" he sputtered. "True Wyverns would rather die with honor than live in exile, forsaking our legacy!" He turned to those who shared his outrage. "Who stands with me? We will not follow this false king down a path of cowardice!"
With a chilling final glance at Xaerion, he and a handful of other elders turned their backs and stormed from the chamber. Wyrnxoth, torn between loyalty to tradition and his trust in his father, stood rooted in place, his mind reeling.
The remaining Council members, though shaken, looked to Xaerion for direction. The King's face was etched with a mix of resolve and weariness.
"We cannot force them to see reason," he rumbled. "But we also cannot delay. Those who wish to stay and fight, prepare yourselves. Gather your families and loyal followers." He turned, fixing his gaze on his son. "Wyrnxoth, you must choose."
Wyrnxoth bolted from the council chamber, a maelstrom of anger and confusion churning within him. He didn't run – he took to the skies, his powerful wings a blur against the darkening horizon. He needed to escape the suffocating weight of his father's decision, the judgmental gaze of the elders – of everything.
His flight was aimless, driven by a need to put distance between himself and the turmoil behind him. Finally, breathless and desperate, he landed clumsily on the snow-covered slope, exhaustion momentarily dulling his heartache.
A flicker of movement caught his eye. A figure emerged from below, climbing the slope with surprising speed – Ullr, his face a mask of determined concern. He must have seen Wyrnxoth take flight and followed, his own limitations forgotten in the urgency of the moment.
"Wyrnxoth!" Ullr's voice, breathless from the climb, held a hint of desperation. "Wait! We need to talk!"
Wyrnxoth stared at the human with burning emerald eyes. Ullr, the outsider, the one who wielded their sacred magic like some trophy. A surge of resentment threatened to choke him.
"Why are you following me?!" Wyrnxoth snarled. "My father, the King, has forsaken his duty! Instead of fighting, he speaks of running, of abandoning our home! Where is his honor?"
Ullr met Wyrnxoth's gaze, his own eyes unwavering. "Your father is doing what he believes is necessary to save your people," he said, his voice calm despite the accusation. "Acnologia... his power is unlike anything we've ever faced. A noble death in battle means extinction for the Wyverns."
The human's words, even if logically sound, felt like an insult. "Extinction?" Wyrnxoth hissed. "We are Wyverns! We stand and fight, or we die with glory. My father is a coward!"
Ullr's jaw tightened, but he held his ground. A memory, as vivid as yesterday, flickered in his mind. A simple dwelling, nestled within a sprawling valley, bathed in the warm hues of sunset. The scents of freshly baked bread and simmering stew filled the air. His sister's laughter rang out as she chased their young nephew through the fields, her belly round with the promise of new life.
"There are battles worth fighting, Wyrnxoth," Ullr said, his voice thick with unshed emotion. "But this...this fight against Acnologia is not one of them. My sister, her unborn child... they deserve a future."
He paused, recalling the heated argument that had driven him from home.
"Magic for destruction?" His sister had exclaimed, her voice trembling. "When will it end? The Dragons offer you training, why not go to them?"
"Wyverns are different," Ullr argued. "Their magic isn't simply power, it's... It's creation! They forge bonds, not weapons. They understand honor, but they also see the value in seeking new paths." Ullr defended.
His sister scoffed, not finding anything to say in return. She finally stammered a response. "A-at least wait for Ewan! He'll be back from his research with news, something to... to change your mind!"
Ullr took a deep breath, his memories swirling like falling leaves. "My people face extinction too," he said, meeting Wyrnxoth's fiery gaze. "Your father saw that. He saw a way forward, even if it meant breaking tradition. That's the kind of strength I want to protect."
Wyrnxoth stared at Ullr, the human's words hanging heavy in the air. The emotion in Ullr's story struck a chord within him, a flicker of empathy battling with his ingrained beliefs. He let out a humorless chuckle, a hint of tension leaving his voice.
"So, the Dragons are all about peace and sunshine, are they?" he said, a touch of sarcasm lingering in his tone. "And here I thought we Wyverns were the ones with all the honor." It wasn't an apology, but the shift in his tone had potential to step back from the hurt.
"Tell me about your sister," Wyrnxoth continued, a hint of genuine curiosity replacing his earlier hostility. "Is she brave, like your kind?"
Ullr's face softened. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "The bravest," he said. "She wouldn't let me leave without a fight. And my brother-in-law...well, he's supportive, even if he doesn't entirely agree with my choice."
"They haven't chosen a name yet, have they?" Wyrnxoth asked, a playful glint in his emerald eyes.
"Actually," Ullr replied, a warm smile gracing his features, "they have. Ewan. My brother-in-law wants to start a tradition, apparently. All the firstborn sons in their lineage will be named Ewan."
A flicker of doubt crossed Wyrnxoth's face, mirrored by the flicker of shimmering scales approaching along the mountainside. The realization hit him like an icy gust – more Wyverns who were still loyal to his father and his audacious plan. Time was running out.
"Ullr," he said, his voice strained. "I… I understand what you are saying. Your family…it's important. And…" He gritted his teeth, struggling to voice the words. "Perhaps there is wisdom in…in finding new paths."
Ullr's face softened, but his eyes remained cautious. "Does that mean…you will come with us?" he asked, a tremor of hope in his voice.
Wyrnxoth hesitated. He glanced at the approaching lights, the echoes of his father's words, the elders' accusations, his own warrior's heart… a cacophony of conflicting emotions.
"I…" he began, then froze as he saw a familiar figure emerge from the growing crowd. Xaerion, his once unbreakable king, now wore an expression etched with worry and a determination that made Wyrnxoth shiver. His father was coming for him.
Wyrnxoth's face was a mask of anguish. He looked from Ullr to his approaching father, feeling a chasm opening within him. His loyalty to his heritage warred with the terrifying possibility of extinction.
"Father..." he began, his voice hoarse, "I cannot fight this enemy. I...I will go with you. But…" He clenched his fists, the scales on his knuckles turning white. "This escape…it feels wrong. We are Wyverns! We stand and fight!"
Xaerion's features hardened, but underneath there was a flicker of understanding. "This isn't cowardice, son," he declared. "It's survival. Acnologia's power is unlike anything we've ever faced. We must find a way to counter it, and time is not our ally here."
Ullr stepped forward, his voice calm despite the tension. "Your father is right, Wyrnxoth. We need to regroup, to learn, and to find a way to fight back. But we can't do that if we're all wiped out."
Wyrnxoth stared at them both, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He understood the logic, but a deep-seated unease gnawed at him.
Time passed, and soon, Xaerion was prepared to perform the ritual. Wyvern magic was chaotic but the power it had was unlike any other. He was alone in one of the chambers of their dwelling in Mount Hakobe. Lacrima lined the walls of the room he was in. From the distance he could hear someone coming, someone he asked to meet with him.
"You wanted to see me, your majesty?" Ullr asked. Xaerion used magic on himself to transform his form. He dwindled in size until he had become a human. His body was powerful and muscular, and his hair was snow white.
"I did. I wanted to ask you something Ullr. You had become inspired to come learn from us when the Dragons began teaching Dragon Slaying Magic to humans. Why is it you came to us and not the Dragons?"
Ullr blinked in surprise at Xaerion's transformation. He had witnessed it before, an adaptation of Wyvern magic that Xaerion believed aided him in blending with the human populace during his information-gathering forays.
"You want the honest truth, King Xaerion?" Ullr asked, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "The Dragons...their magic felt…destructive. Powerful, yes, but solely for the purpose of battle." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Your kind, the Wyverns...you are warriors too, but there's a…a constructive element to your power. A possibility for building, not just conquering."
Xaerion nodded slowly, a flicker of interest in his eyes. "And that was enough to make you risk this journey?"
Ullr smiled, a touch of sadness in his eyes. "More than that, your majesty. There was…" He trailed off, the vision of his arguing sister filling his mind. "...Something within Wyvern magic that seemed…kinder, perhaps. A sense of unity with the elements, not solely mastery over them. That is what your people offered, and what I believed could save my own."
Xaerion was silent for a moment, his human form mirroring the thoughtful stillness of a statue. "You are wise, Ullr," he said, his voice thick with a newfound respect. "I fear we have taken that for granted. Perhaps…perhaps it is time for us to remember our true origins."
Ullr met Xaerion's gaze, a spark of hope igniting within him. The king approached Ullr and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have grown strong and learned much. I am proud to have been able to host you among our kind. You are the only human who sought us out. I cannot imagine what inspired you, but nonetheless, your presence was welcome. I have a gift for you Ullr." The king said.
The king approached Ullr and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have grown stronger and learned much. I am proud to have been able to host you among our kind. You are the only human who sought us out. I cannot imagine what inspired you, but nonetheless, your presence was welcome. I have a gift for you Ullr."
A flicker of surprise crossed Ullr's face, followed by a deep sense of gratitude. "Your Majesty, you honor me," he said, bowing his head. "I came to learn, but I have received... so much more. It has been a privilege to stand alongside the Wyverns."
Xaerion reached beneath his robes and drew forth a shimmering scale – not from his own body, but larger, obsidian black with an emerald sheen at its core. "This…" he said, his voice thick with a mix of anticipation and reluctance, "…is a scale of my son, Wyrnxoth. I have imbued it with a fraction of his power."
He placed the scale in Ullr's palm. "This is the essence of the Sky Dominion, Ullr. It holds the potential to enhance your own magic, to strengthen the bond between you and the elements you wield. To truly become a Wyvern Slayer."
Ullr stared down at the scale in his palm, its iridescent sheen reflecting a whirlwind of emotions in his eyes. Gratitude, awe, and a creeping unease battled within him. Had he ever truly understood the depth of sacrifice this represented?
"Your Majesty…," he began, his voice strained. "This is…more than I could have imagined. I will honor it, and your people."
Xaerion nodded, a flicker of sadness in his eyes. "The path you have chosen is perilous, Ullr. But I believe in you. And so must you, Wyvern Slayer."
Ullr raised his gaze to meet the King's. He could feel the scale thrumming in his hand, a subtle pulse that echoed something…something deep and primal. The gift was a testament to Xaerion's trust, but it was also a stark reminder of the cost, and the darkness that lurked beneath their desperate hope.
Xaerion stepped back and sized the human. "Ullr, let's see if you remember the lessons. Tell me, what is the core of Wyvern Magic?"
Ullr blinked, momentarily surprised by the sudden change in tone. He straightened, his hands settling into a familiar, almost instinctive stance. Years of training flowed back to him.
"The core of Wyvern magic, your majesty," Ullr began, his voice clear and resonant, "lies in fusion. The ability to blend elements, creating entirely new forms of energy. More than simple manipulation or mastery of a single element, it is about harmony…and instability."
He paused before speaking again. "It is not solely about destruction, nor solely about creation. It is both, in constant flux, mirroring the unpredictable nature of the Wyverns themselves."
Xaerion nodded slowly. "And that instability…that chaos," he said, his words sharp, "is precisely what we will harness. It is what sets us apart. What will shatter the limits of time and space."
Xaerion gestured towards the shimmering lacrima lining the chamber walls. "Tell me, Ullr, what do you see when you look at them?"
"Infinite potential," Ullr responded. "Lacrima can be anything you need it to be. Even if it's the legacy of a great king." He looked back at Xaerion with a smile, a touch of admiration in his eyes.
Xaerion's features remained stoic, but a flicker of surprise crossed his gaze. "Infinite potential," he echoed, the words tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Yes…and perhaps, also infinite risk."
He gestured towards the walls of the chamber. "These lacrima, Ullr... they are not simply stores of power. They are fragments of time itself, unstable by their very nature. We will harness this instability, bend it to our will. But it is a dangerous dance, and the cost…" He trailed off, the weight of his unspoken words hanging heavy in the silence.
Ullr wanted to say something, anything to break the silence. But he found none. The king approached the lacrima his eyes never deviating from them.
"There is something I want you to promise me, Ullr. With that power I gave you, do not share it. You are the first and only human I trust. I've seen the way Dragon Slayers are overwhelmed with both conceit and this need for peace with the Dragons. But it's truly a tool for war. Wyvern Magic, and now Wyvern Slaying Magic, has the potential to be used for great things, or bring about great disaster. Learn it, master it, record it to never be forgotten. Then, return here and lay it to rest in this lacrima."
The weight of Xaerion's words settled over Ullr, chilling him despite the warmth of the chamber. The potential for disaster, the flicker of desperation in the King's eyes, shook him to the core.
He found his voice strained but resolute. "I promise, Your Majesty. I...I won't let you down."
Xaerion nodded, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "I know you won't, Ullr. You are more than a student, more than a weapon against our enemy. You are a bridge between our worlds. A testament to what Wyverns and humans can achieve when we set aside differences and face threats together."
He placed a hand on Ullr's shoulder. "Now, rest. Tomorrow, we change destiny."
The chamber thrummed with chaotic energy, the air alive with the whispers of ancient magic. Lacrima hummed and pulsed, their brilliance waxing and waning with an unpredictable rhythm. Xaerion stood at the heart of the ritual, his form ablaze with an unearthly radiance, his voice a rumble that echoed through the tunnels of Mount Hakobe.
Ullr watched in awe and rising trepidation. The scale in his pocket throbbed against his skin, a frantic echo of the destabilizing energies around them. Every instinct screamed at him to intervene, to lend his strength, but he held back, trusting in Xaerion's ability… and his desperation.
The remaining Wyverns had retreated to the chamber's edge, their gazes fixed on their King. There was no dance of containment, only a silent vigil. This ritual, born of Xaerion's obsession and his mastery of Wyvern magic, was his burden alone.
Sweat dripped down Xaerion's face, his features contorted with the strain. The lacrima flickered violently, their glow tinged with a sickly green. The mountain groaned, a tremor shaking its foundations. Ullr bit back a cry; there was nothing he could do but watch.
Ullr watched in awe. He could practically feel the fabric of reality strain against Xaerion's manipulations. With each syllable, Xaerion wove the volatile strands of Wyvern magic, seeking to grasp at the intangible threads of time and space. He focused not on bending them to his will, but on forcibly uniting them. The lacrima, vessels of trapped moments, pulsed in response, threatening to detonate under the sheer pressure.
The very air warped and buckled as Xaerion sought to make the impossible tangible. Sweat dripped from his brow, his eyes wide and rimmed with blood. With a final cry, he thrust his hands towards the heart of the ritual.
The pressure was immense and suffocating, as if the universe itself was being squeezed into the confines of the chamber. Every nerve ending screamed in protest, his vision flickering at the edges as reality bent under the sheer force of Xaerion's will. This was the terrifying sensation of time and space refusing unity, resisting the creation of a passage that should not exist.
Ullr squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the worst. When the light finally faded, a stunned silence filled the chamber. The lacrima were gone, replaced by a shimmering portal, swirling with an impossible kaleidoscope of colors.
And then, something fell out.
It tumbled through the portal, a small figure caught in a whirlwind of energy. It landed with a thud at Ullr's feet, a whimper escaping its lips.
Ullr cautiously opened his eyes, his breath catching in his throat. There, sprawled on the cold stone floor, was a young girl with pink hair and fur the color of twilight – black, white, and blue. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing pools of bright emerald, momentarily disoriented.
"Ow…" she mumbled, blinking at the sight of Ullr looming above. Then, her gaze flickered to the portal and the stunned figure of Xaerion. In her voice, a hint of amusement mingled with concern. "Whoops, wrong exit?"
Xaerion broke the silence first, a cough escaping his lips that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "Well, this…this is certainly unexpected." He crouched down, his features softening with a touch of amusement. "Who might you be, young one?"
Ullr, still blinking in confusion, scratched his head. "Um…did that portal just spit out a…a talking animal-person?"
Tiffy giggled, her initial worry replaced by playful curiosity. "Animal-person?" She tilted her head, her pink hair swaying. "I'm Tiffy, a Lupicyn! And no, I didn't get spit out. Well…not exactly. More like…whooshed out!" She glanced back at the portal, a glimmer of concern entering her voice. "Though, I'm still trying to figure out why I'm here…and not back home."
Ullr, usually so composed, blinked in surprise. His gaze shifted between Tiffy and the swirling portal. "My name is Ullr," he managed, his voice tinged with wonder. "A-and this is definitely… unexpected."
A flicker of surprise crossed Xaerion's face. "Home?" he asked, a note of curiosity in his voice. "Where are you from, Tiffy?"
"Edolas," she answered, bouncing slightly on her heels. "It's another world! Kinda like this one, but with way more magic and floating islands and talking cats... Oh, and giant fish with wings!" Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she described her home.
Xaerion's gaze shifted back to the swirling portal, his weariness replaced with renewed determination. "This portal…it might be our way back, Tiffy. Our way back to Earth Land." He turned to the other Wyverns, his voice resonating with a fervor born of desperation. "Gather yourselves! It is time!"
The Wyverns surged forward, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and anticipation. The first few stepped through the shimmering threshold, vanishing into its depths. A tremor shook the chamber. The portal flickered ominously, the swirling colors tinged with a sickly green hue.
"Something's wrong," Ullr cried out, his voice tight with alarm.
Xaerion's brow creased in concentration. "The portal…it's unstable!" He thrust his hands forward, raw Wyvern magic flowing from him into the portal itself. The shimmering gateway steadied, but his features tightened with strain.
"Keep going!" he shouted over the roar of the strained portal. "We must not delay!"
Chaos erupted. Wyverns pushed and shoved, desperate to pass through the portal before it collapsed. The air crackled with uncontrolled energy, the chamber shaking with every surge of unstable magic.
Suddenly, a Wyvern elder shrieked as he stepped through the portal. His body twisted and warped, as if caught in an invisible vortex. He vanished not into another world, but into nothingness, his terrified cry cut short.
Panic seized the chamber like a wildfire. The portal pulsed violently, its colors twisting into grotesque shapes. Wyverns scattered, their roars of determination replaced by terrified cries.
Wyrnxoth, fueled by a mix of fear and stubborn courage, stood his ground. He watched, the scale in his pocket hot against his skin, as the portal writhed and warped. Each surge of instability sent a pang through his heart, and yet a flicker of hope persisted.
Xaerion's voice rose above the din, a final command laced with exhaustion. "Wyrnxoth! Go now! Do not linger!"
Wyrnxoth staggered forward, his eyes locked on his father. Xaerion stood before the portal, his form bathed in its erratic light, a single figure against the encroaching chaos. His strength was all but spent, yet he held the gateway open with sheer willpower.
"Father…" Wyrnxoth began, a knot forming in his throat.
Xaerion's gaze softened, a fleeting echo of his former warmth. "Go, my son. Rebuild our dominion. I…I will not be joining you."
Wyrnxoth stared in disbelief. "No! We leave together, or not at all!"
"And doom us all?" Xaerion's voice was a ragged rasp. "The way back is open. Do not waste this chance!"
With a final shove, Xaerion propelled Wyrnxoth through the shimmering threshold. A flash of blinding light erupted, momentarily engulfing the chamber. When the light faded, the portal was gone.
Wyrnxoth, blinking in the unfamiliar light, stumbled onto a field of vibrant green grass. He looked around, a bewildered expression on his face. The air was alive with the chirping of strange insects, and towering, fuchsia trees stretched towards the horizon.
In the Wyvern chamber, a chilling silence descended. The last vestiges of the portal shimmered and died, leaving behind only an empty space. Xaerion crumpled to the ground, his body wracked with tremors. His once vibrant scales were dull, his eyes vacant. The life force had been ripped from him, sacrificed to hold the portal open long enough for his son's escape.
Ullr rushed to Xaerion's side, his voice choked with emotion. "Xaerion! No!"
Tiffy, wide-eyed and trembling, huddled in a corner. The scene she had witnessed unfolded with horrifying speed – a son banished, a king sacrificed, and a doorway slammed shut.
Grief settled over the chamber like a shroud. Ullr knelt beside Xaerion's lifeless form, his broad shoulders slumped in defeat. Tiffy, fear battling with a newfound determination, approached them slowly.
She whispered, her voice barely audible, "What now?"
Ullr lifted his head, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with a deep despair. "I…I don't know, Tiffy. Their way back… lost."
A flicker of something akin to defiance ignited in Tiffy's emerald eyes. "Lost? Or just…waiting to be discovered?" She glanced around the chamber, her gaze landing on the remnants of the lacrima, pulsing faintly with a residual energy. An idea, both daring and uncertain, took root in her mind.
"Hey," she continued, her voice gaining strength. "There has to be another way. Maybe…maybe the answer lies here, in this magic." She gestured towards the lacrima.
Ullr frowned. "The Wyvern magic? It's volatile, dangerous…"
"But powerful," Tiffy interjected. "And I can feel it." Reaching out, she tentatively touched one of the lacrima shards, a faint blue light emanating from the point of contact. It hummed with the remnants of Xaerion's power. Ullr eyes widened and slowly approached them.
"The king's magic... the lacrima absorbed it." He whispered.
"See! From what I saw he was incredibly strong. Maybe you can do what he did!" She exclaimed, wanting to make Ullr feel better. He nodded.
"I can try... that's all I can do. Will you join me?" He asked the Lupicyn. She nodded excitedly.
"I don't have anything else to do."
Time, that most relentless of forces, swept over the hidden chambers of Mount Hakobe. Years turned into a decade, a decade into two. Ullr, once a proud warrior, became a scholar. His once youthful features were etched with the lines of age and wisdom. At his side, Tiffy's Lupicyn form had stayed the same, her eyes still held the spark of youthful curiosity that had set her on this path.
The chamber, once scarred by chaotic energies, hummed with a different kind of power. Lacrima lined the walls, each containing a meticulously recorded fragment of Wyvern knowledge – their history, their magic system, their strengths and weaknesses.
Tiffy poured over ancient texts with Ullr, her natural affinity for magic amplified her connection to the Wyverns. She and Ullr spoke in the old tongue, sparring with elements, blending and shaping them with a fluency that would have shocked the Wyverns of old.
Ullr, with the heart of a warrior and the mind of a mage, forged the crown jewel—a Wyvern Slayer Lacrima. Into it he poured the essence of his knowledge, a weapon and a testament to Xaerion's sacrifice.
They stood before the altar, surrounded by their work. Pride tinged with bittersweet loss filled the chamber.
Ullr's voice, thick with emotion yet resolute, broke the silence. "It is time, Tiffy. My promise to Xaerion…it will be kept."
Tiffy nodded, a hint of sorrow in her eyes. "I understand. Your people, those who were scattered...they need you."
"And you, Tiffy?" Ullr asked, concern etching his face. "Edolas…your home…"
Tiffy smiled, a touch of mischief returning to her eyes. "There will be time for that. For now..." she reached for the Wyvern Slayer lacrima, its glow casting intricate patterns on her Lupicyn form, "let's finish what we started!"
Ullr eyes widened in confusion.
"T-Tiffy, what are you doing?" His voice raised with surprise.
"Someone's gotta make sure it stays protected."
"But what about-" Ullr began.
"Don't ya worry! I have a feeling I won't be in here forever. I'll find a way home." She assured. Ullr wanted to argue, but saw the determination in her eyes. He nodded, but had to say one more thing.
"The magic is chaotic... you might not remember things, Tiffy." He explained, his voice wavering. Tiffy simply shrugged.
"So what? I'll just have to start fresh when I wake up." She replied, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Ullr couldn't help but return the smile, despite the tears stinging his eyes.
"Goodbye, Tiffy. I'll miss you." He said softly, wrapping her in a warm hug.
"Don't forget to come back and visit, okay?" Tiffy replied, nuzzling against him. Ullr chuckled, wiping the tears from his cheeks.
"Of course. Be well, my friend." He whispered, stepping back as the glowing Lacrima absorbed Tiffy.
Her emerald eyes flashed brightly, then dimmed, her body dissolving into energy. The Lacrima pulsed with an ethereal glow, a silent guardian of the secrets within.
Ullr closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself. Then, drawing on the last reserves of his strength, he cast one final spell.
He marked the Lacrima, leaving a faint trace of Wyvern magic.
"If you ever find your way home, Wyrnxoth, I hope you have friends waiting for you." He murmured, a final gesture of kindness to an abandoned child.
"May this guide you, as it guided me. May it be your light in the darkness, as it was mine. I honor the memory of the Wyverns, and the lost ones who remained.