Chapter 16.5: Brothers, Enemies

The Dra-tiichi (Elder) smiled. The wrinkles in his face betrayed his remaining monstrous strength as he looked at the younglings gathered within his chamber to hear the tales that would serve as their lesson: the history of the Dracova and their hero, The Keiseer. Sitting down slowly in his chair with the aid of his wide-bladed sword, he began the ancient tale.

"Long ago, the home of all dragons, Oldesta, fell to a world-devouring civil war. Many sought to escape, and two dragons helped them in a desperate escape and came to this world of Usoria. They found refuge on a lonely but fertile island in the middle of a great sea, which we now call Pantheon. Our great bafotruhk (ancestor), Ukitaan, was among those who came to this land. To her heartbreak, she did not find a suitable mate among those who escaped. She wandered for many years all across Usoria until an overly ambitious human defeated her. He was from a world called Earth named Phillip of Cognac." The younglings pressed in closer, listening intently. Two of them, close friends, scooted even closer: Macross and Vulcurion.

"As Phillip readied to deliver the final blow, her sad and lonely eyes caught his attention; they almost seemed to say, 'is this how it will end?'. When Phillip finally sheathed his sword, Ukitaan asked why he hesitated and that it would only offer her another chance to destroy him. Phillip only sighed.

"'I, too, am alone in the world I used to call home. Your eyes speak to me as if they were a mirror.' Feeling sorry for the great dragon and what he had done, he bandaged her wounds and looked after her until she could move again. Once she could, Ukitaan felt as if she had found the mate she had sought for so long. But how could she cultivate such a relationship when she could easily squash him? They made supplication to our Jennu Opsola (Great Father), Quetzalquatol, seeking a means to allow their love to continue. Seeing the thread that tied their hearts, he cast his power over Ukitaan, changing her to take on a partially human form. Their relationship was volatile at best, but they were inseparable, and soon, a child was born; the first Dracova; the body of a human with the horns, wings, tail, and strength of the drakin.

"More children came, and Pantheon became a wealthy city, some of the Dracova choosing human life partners from the continent of Usoria, birthing offspring with fewer Dracova traits but still carrying the fire that burns within us all. As we ventured out, the Usorians saw us as a threat to the humans, elves, and fairies, despite our relationships. Our draconic blood roared to protect our families and loved ones, calling on our drakin, becoming fiercely famous far and wide for our strength in battle. Rumors began to spread that if a human defeated a Dracova, your name would echo as 'Slayer' through eternity.

"We cried to our Jennu Opsola for help as the attacks became more frequent and violent, leaving hundreds of Dracova and thousands of humans dead. Quetzalquatol heard our cries and spoke to a goddess of Usoria, Minerna, The Great Mother, who descended in all her glory. That day, she declared that severe judgment awaited anyone who hunted or attacked us. The goddess then instructed the Dra-tiichi of Pantheon to gather all Dracova and their families back to Pantheon. For a generation, the attacks ceased, and we Dracova lived in peace." Again, the young seated at the Dra-tiichi's feet pressed in closer to listen, Macross and Vulcurion elbowing each other. Others fidgeted and squirmed as tiny wings brushed against faces or short tails were squished. The Dra-tiichi waited for all the young ones to quiet down before continuing.

"Despite the goddess's warnings, the humans could not see past their greed and fear. Legends began spreading that our power was rooted in our dragon heritage! Soon, poachers would attack the Dra-tiichi, erasing their memories with newly discovered Usorian Magic. We would find the victims of these attacks missing their horns, tails, wings, and sometimes even swords.

"These humans took their prizes, devouring them in many tonics and brews in hopes of harnessing our strength. When that did not sate their desires, other rumors told how the Drarytiss (Warriors) gained our abilities from the blades we wield, not from our strength of arm and skill. As the stories took root, many Dracova became the victims of brutal attacks if they visited Usoria for any reason.

"Those that dared left Pantheon again, seeking out human villages where they could live in peace and be closer to the people of their life partners, but it was no use. The Dracova offered supplication to Minerna once more, and again, the goddess showed her power and slew those that brought this heinous act against us. Despite that, the attacks only swelled, becoming raids of Usorian Dracova villages, devastating it for a chance to claim one of our blades, even if no Drarytiss were present. In desperation, the Dracova turned to their drakin, asking the dragons for aid in their protection, and still, the humans came.

"During a particularly vicious attack, a Shivi-cova (guard) stood against the hoard of humans with nothing but a wooden shield. The Shivi-cova was mortally wounded but still pulled his battered body towards the screams and wails within the burning village, wanting to protect them.

"As he crawled, he saw a greater dragon, Eskalade, who lay on the ground grievously wounded. Eskalade could sense the Shivi-cova's desire to protect his people, which moved him. With the last of his strength, Eskalade fused his immense power and knowledge with the Shivi-cova, giving rise to the first Trothar-cuin (Protector Supreme) of the Dracova: The Keiseer. His power dwarfed even the most powerful mage among the humans, his armor becoming dragon-like, covering his entire body." The Dra-tiichi stood, motioning down his body with a wave of his arms, his enthusiasm rising while the youngling's eyes widened with wonder.

"With his aid, the attacks finally stopped, and Keiseer stood to watch over the Dracova as Trothar-cuin from that day forward. To this day, no one knows the identity of the first Keiseer. But he has guarded our people generation after generation. It is said that when the time is right, the Keiseer will leave his post and fly through the world, searching for a successor by holding out his sword to them." The Dra-tiichi finished, reaching behind him, drawing his heavy sword from the ground, and pointing it to the wide-eyed young ones. They all stared at his sword for a time before jumping up and running out into the front yard, picking up sticks and swinging them like Shivi-cova from so long ago.

"When I grow up, I'm gonna be the next Keiseer!" Macross shouted at the top of his lungs, to which Vulcurion quickly objected.

"No, I'm going to be the next Keiseer!" he shouted, soon objected by many other young ones as they swung their oversized sticks in imaginary adventures as Keiseer, the Great Protector and hero.

"Maybe one day, one of you will, just as you did, my dear granddaughter," The Dra-tiichi muttered, looking up to Keiseer Yeso, the current Trothar-cuin, and smiled. He vividly remembered the day he passed the title to her, training her mercilessly until she could hold the True Keiseer Form. Once her training was complete, she took her place above Pantheon's massive viaduct bridge connecting their home to Usoria, her glowing gaze watching over even the most human of Dracova.

Many years later

Macross and Vulcurion hurtled through the training course, only competing with themselves and leaving the others far behind. They moved as though they were one, performing maneuvers in perfect sync. Each swing of their giant swords sliced through obstacles before them, crossing the finish line simultaneously. Over the years, Macross had become known for his unusual brute strength, even feared by some of the Caex Ankin, or sword masters. Vulcurion was just as famous: he didn't have the same ferocious brute strength as Macross but was still an esteemed swordsman. Mostly, however, he used his sword as a last resort, preferring to find a solution through communication.

"Are the two of you in a race or something? You've both blown the course record away again!" one of the instructors scolded, broadly smiling as they caught their breath while waiting for the others.

"I want to see his face when I'm chosen to be the next Keiseer." Macross laughed, pushing out his chest only to slump over when his stinging abs reminded him of the hard work ahead of him. Vulcurion smiled, massaging his tense arm and stretching his legs.

"All in time, Macross. The Keiseer chooses their successor, not you. Besides, we're training to become Shivi-cova."

"Says you. Strength to overpower your foes is all that matters, whether as Shivi-cova or as Keiseer. There will be changes when the Keiseer chooses me."

"Macross, you're speaking as though the honor of Keiseer is nothing more than a kludge to lord over the people. Keiseer is our Trothar-cuin, not a tool for conquest."

"Vulcurion, listen to yourself. You're speaking as if you'd rather be seated in the Council of Ten, using words rather than actions. Words mean nothing in the heat of battle."

"You've been attending the Vutha Vargach again, haven't you?" Vulcuroin scolded as Macross looked away, more so in agitation rather than shame.

"Macross, you know that faction goes against everything the Keiseer stands for, not to mention that it's just a group of tavern brawlers interested in seeing who is the strongest," Vulcurion said. Macross pushed him away.

"What would you know of strength? You've been learning how to delegate between the humans and the Dracova. We are better than them, Vulcurion! Where is your draconic pride? We don't need to exist with them; they must exist with us! Humans only understand force, and Keiseer is the best way to do that. Have you forgotten the Dra-tiichi's Lessons?"

"I remember the lessons well, Macross. But you're treading a dangerous path." Vulcurion warned as Macross sheathed his giant sword to his back and walked away.

"You've become weak, Vulcurion. I'm going to feel sorry for you when I become Keiseer." He mumbled, walking towards the great hall where everyone gathered to have their final evaluations pronounced to the entirety of Pantheon.

"We now celebrate those who have completed their training as Shivi-cova under the Dra-tiichi and Caex Ankin. I am sure that out of this generation-" Before the general could complete his sentence, he looked up at the Great Hall's back, seeing Keiseer hovering above the ground. Each wing beat kicked up dust until she landed and began walking with heavy steps to the front. Once there, the General bowed and backed away from the podium, her voice powerful and comforting.

"Dracova, There comes a time when I must pass my power to another. The First Keiseer gave me the premonition that from these Shivi-cova, I will choose the one worthy of being Keiseer. Come forward that I may see your faces." The trainees stood in a perfectly straight line without a second to waste. Macross stood proudly, fighting against his body's pain to ensure he looked the part, unlike Vulcurion, who stood next to him at attention.

"It is an honor to be chosen as the next Keiseer…" Macross thought, already planning what he was going to say. He knew that he was going to be the next Keiseer. Vulcurion looked down the line, watching as the Keiseer looked each of them in the face. The helm's shadow hid her fierce hunter's eyes. As she neared, Vulcurion heard the Keiseer chuckle under her breath, kneeling and placing her sword on the floor.

"And what is your name, little one?" She asked, placing a hand on the young one's head and ruffling his hair. Vulcurion leaned forward to see a young one standing in front of the graduates, a small stick in hand. His horns barely peeked through his hair, and his wings were still too small to fly.

"Ketia." He said with an energetic shout, making the entire hall chuckle. The Keiseer nodded, holding out her hand for him to shake.

"Well, Ketia, it's a pleasure to meet you. And what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to be the next Keiseer!" the youngling said with conviction. Vucurion looked at the Keiseer, seeing her grinning at this young one's enthusiasm.

"I see. Do you want to know a little secret?" she asked. The young one nodded eagerly as The Kasieer leaned down and whispered something. The young one smiled, swinging slightly as an embarrassed smile grew across his face, making Vulcurion smile. He was startled back to attention when The Keiseer turned to face him, her golden glowing eyes appearing in the shadows of her helm as The Kasieer walked to him.

"And what would your name be?" she asked. Vulcurion's throat became dry and his palms sweaty, but he managed to gain his composure and answer her.

"Vulcurion, my name is Vulcurion, Pliso- (master) Keiseer." He answered.

"Is this your friend here next to you?" She asked, holding her hand out as though motioning to Macross.

"Yes, I am Pliso-Keiseer." Macross replied proudly. The Keiseer turned to him momentarily, narrowing her eyes before turning her attention back to Vulcurion.

"And what is his name?" She asked as Macross began speaking once again.

"My name is-" He abruptly stopped when The Keiseer glared at him.

"I am speaking to Vulcurion, drot (boy). You will answer my questions when I address you." The Keiseer scolded, turning her attention once again to Vulcurion.

"His name is Macross, Pliso-Keiseer." The Keiseer nodded and turned her attention to Macross.

"Now, Macross: how long have you known Vulcurion?"

"I've known him since we were young ones, Pliso-Keiseer."

"I see, and are you stronger than Vulcurion? From what I understand, both of you are equally powerful."

"Vulcurion prefers to use words to win his battles, but in brute strength, you need to look no further than the one you see before you." The Keiseer tilted her head as she turned back to Vulcurion.

"Tell me, what does The Keiseer mean to you?" She asked, walking before Vulcurion once more.

"The Keiseer is our symbol of hope, the one we can rely on to be our Trothar-cuin and a source of strength. The Keiseer is the one that protects the Dracova of Pantheon. The Dracova draw strength from that to protect the ones they love until everyone is protected, down to the youngest." Keiseer nodded her head and turned back to Macross.

"And to you, what does The Keiseer stand for?"

"As a pillar, one who will obliterate the enemies that would harm the Dracova, to instruct them as a higher power than the Council of Ten." The Keiseer nodded to his response and walked further down the line, looking at each Shivi-cova, periodically asking a question. Ultimately, she returned to Macross and Vulcurion, holding up her sword as she stood between them, her eyes disappearing in the shadow of her helm.

"Keiseer, guide my sword." She whispered before resting it on Vulcurion's shoulder. Opening her eyes, she then turned the sword handle first to him. Macross's eyes widened, his pupils narrowing to slits as his anger boiled.

"How can you choose him?! He is weak!" Macross shouted, drawing his sword as he pushed students away and turned to The Kasieer.

"Being chosen as the Trothar-cuin requires much more than brute strength, Macross. While there is no doubt of your strength, The Keiseer is not a cudgel to beat the Dracova into submission or to obliterate your enemies. The Keiseer is someone whose decisions must be carefully weighed, as their actions will show the world what kind of people we Dracova are." Macross grit his teeth, the grip around his sword tightening, swinging down on The Keiseer.

"I cannot accept this!" Macross thundered, widening his stance and raising his sword to the ready. Vulcurion stepped to his friend.

"Macross, please. Lower your blade. What would attacking accomplish except spill innocent blood?"

"Talk, talk, Talk, TALK! All you do is talk when you should act!" Macross shrieked, driving his sword at Vulcurion. The Keiseer grabbed her sword, pushed Vulcurion away, and threw Macross to the ground, knocking his sword out of his hand. It stuck into the granite floor with a hard clang, too far out of his reach.

"Your objection is noted, Macross. However, your actions solidify what I have been trying to tell you. I'm sorry, but you are not the best choice as Keiseer. You would lead us to ruin!" Macross looked from Keiseer to Vulcurion, pursuing his brow hard as he got up and ran for his sword.

"If that is what the Dracova has become, then I cannot live among you. You all have become weak! I will show you the lost strength of the Dracova and raise The Keiseer to what it truly is!" He shouted, disappearing through one of the stained-glass windows. Vulcurion went to pursue him but was stopped by The Keiseer gripping his arm.

"There is no reasoning with him now, Vulcurion. He will return one day; you must be ready to do the unthinkable. Come, your training begins now." Vulcurion sighed as he looked down at the massive polished red sword in his hands: is this what it truly meant to be Trothar-cuin?

Yeso's training kept Vulcurion busy enough to almost forget about his best friend. Macross had since gone missing from Pantheon, and when his training left him enough energy, Vulcurion would search for him, often straining his wings late into the night. On this particular night, Yeso met him on the roof of the training barracks, having taken off her helmet and letting her long fire-orange hair sway in the moonlight.

"He's lost to us, you know that, don't you?" she asked mournfully. Vulcurion took a moment to study her features, seeing the large scars over her nose and right eye.

"I refuse to believe that. Macross can be-"

"There is no bringing him back. He is set in his ways, and you will not change his mind," The Keiseer said sternly, reaching up and setting a finger on the scar across her eye.

"My grandfather was The Keiseer before me. He was the Dra-tiichi who taught you all the lessons as Young Ones. My two older sisters served as Shivi-cova for many years, gaining ranks and becoming well-known by the commanders and generals. But when I, a common Dracova, was chosen to be The Keiseer instead of my sisters, they turned against me. My oldest sister even tried to assassinate me that night, giving me these." Yeso turned slightly, pointing to the scars and revealing her right eye to be blind.

"My grandfather tried to talk to them. But no amount of talking would sway them; they convinced themselves they were the only genuine worthy candidate to become The Keiseer. To this day, they still will not speak to me." Vulcurion sighed, drooping his wings as he looked out over Pantheon. A man's far-away scream cut through the night, followed by others abruptly cut short.

"That came from the council's chamber," Yeso commented, donning her helm once more as she and Vulcurion flew toward the noise. Yeso outran Vulcurion, arriving at the chamber within moments. In the minute it took for Vulcurion to come, he could still hear Dracova killed amidst the sounds of clanging blades. When Vulcurion landed, the sight before him made his heart freeze; blood painted the floor and streaked the walls soaking into the clothes of the slaughtered council members. He felt dizzy as rage began to overtake him, his fangs creaking and his eyes widening. Fire billowed from around his hands as he drew his sword and charged at the assailant The Keiseer battled.

"Vulcurion! NO!" She commanded. But his charge caught the man, pinning him to the wall and cracking the granite blocks making up the chamber. To Vulcurion's horror, he saw Macross grinning wildly over the polished edge of Vulcurion's sword against his throat.

"If this is what it took to use your strength, I would have done it ages ago!" he seethed.

"Why did you kill the council?!" Vulcurion demanded.

"Why? WHY? The council brought nothing but weakness to the Dracova! The Drakin laugh at us! Our draconic heritage melts away with each decade! I will make us strong again! The Council holds us back!"

"This is not the way, Macross!"

"THIS IS THE ONLY WAY! I have the strength to see my future through. Do you have the strength to ensure yours?" Vulcurion could only sneer at him, holding himself back from pushing the edge of his sword into Macross's throat. The Keiseer grabbed his forearm firmly, shaking her head once Vulcuron looked back.

"Put your sword down. Do not take this path," The Keiseer instructed, gently pulling his sword arm down and guiding him away from Macross. Before Macross could react, The Keiseer pressed him to the wall, a low thrum billowing from her throat. Strong ropes and chains held Macross in a stable while Vulcurion and The Keiseer cleaned the blood from the chamber until morning. When the sun rose, it was ironically the color of blood, lighting the room with its firey glow.

The Shivi-cova dragged Macross before the King and Queen to answer for his brutal actions. His only answer was the words he had howled to Vulcurion, preaching how he would return strength to the Dracova. The king sighed heavily, his fists balling and his body shivering until he bellowed that Macross was banished, never to be looked upon by any Dracova from that day forward, no matter how human. The Shivi-cova then drug the writhing Macross through the city and across the great bridge connecting Pantheon to Usoria, hurling him down the road still bound by his chains and ropes. Vulcurion stayed as long as The Keiseer allowed, walking with slow, heavy steps, listening to the wrathful screams of Macross fading behind him.

"I'm sorry, Macross…" he thought, swearing that he could hear Yeso's breath quiver as well.

Macross screamed until he bellowed blood, struggling to loosen the ropes around him as dirt and twigs raked across his face. He buried his face into the grass and wept when he had no more energy. Only now did the weight of his banishment hit him. As a youngling, the only family he had was his mother. His father died when rogue humans raided their small Dracova settlement.

He could still see the knife lodged in his back, just as The Keiseer swooped in and dealt with the humans. Despite the healing powers of the Keiseer, his father still died. At the Keiseer's behest, the settlement moved back to Pantheon, where he met his lifelong friend, Vulcurion. From that day forward, Macross vowed that he would become The Keiseer and be better than she was so that no one would lose another loved one again.

As he lay there, he heard footsteps nearing him: they sounded light, like a human female's. And there was another human with her. They, too, were light but wider: perhaps it was a human male? And then there were the heavy steps of a quadruped: a horse, maybe? No, these were too heavy for a horse, even a large one.

"Oh my, what have we here?" the woman's voice said, almost mockingly. Macross clenched his jaw, his body tensing as he felt the chains and rope loosen from around his body. Tilting his vision slightly, he could see the woman's long, blood-red hair, instantly making him think of The Keiseer's armor. With a growl, he bolted from his bindings, grabbing the woman's arms and pinning her to a tree. Her glowing yellow eyes looked surprised but excited as if the action had pleased her.

"Oh… such power," She said in sensuous awe, her cheeks seeming to blush.

"Release Hilda, or face me." the man said, the sounds of a spell humming to life behind him. Macross turned to see an older man, a giant cobra coiled behind him, and a large skeleton dog bull standing to one side.

"Who are you?" Macross demanded, his scratchy voice no more than a hiss.

"I am Arkarium, Master of Dark Alchemy and Earl of Destruction, and this is Hilda, The Reaper of Azwan. Who are you?" the man answered. Macross set Hilda down, squaring his shoulders and holding his wings wide.

"I… I am Magnus, Drarytiss-cuin of the Dracova."