The star meets two mortal children.
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God, how long has it been since I last even thought about writing for this fic?
Well, winter vaca's started, so I thought I might as well.
Here's a new chapter for those of you who still remember me.
Please leave your thoughts in the comments.
Thank you for reading.
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'Why?'
Phantom thoughts echoed throughout the clearing, unheard by all bar the intangible Stars of Wishes. They asked the world, demanding an answer despite the shattered state of their owner. The world was as cruel as it was unjust. But maybe that is what made it fair to all.
The girl was cold, yet she couldn't shiver. She shouldn't be freezing. Summer had passed, but it was nowhere near time for the unfeeling hands of winter to grip the lands. The ground around her body was moist, though it had been dry until a few moments ago.
"I can't...feel my legs..."
Memories unconsciousness had stripped from her and locked away broke free of their inner cage. She remembered the adrenaline, the fear, and the looming shadow that had loomed over her. Unmovable like mountains, majestic like gold.
The girl shuddered, berating herself for her unawareness. Yet that came a step too late. None except two could will the river of time to flow backward. There was a saying invented by mortals for this. "No use crying over spilled milk."
Her lower half was numb, and her abdomen was filled with burning pain. Breathing was like having a thousand mountains weighing on her chest, and talking was as impossible as counting the stars.
Crimson stained the ground, blood dying her platinum hair a sickening shade of red. A wound on her head provided the dye of lifeblood. Her clothes stuck onto her body like leeches, sapping the sparks of warmth her body desperately tried to hold onto. Her vision was overlayed with a dull monochrome, a constant fuzz that blurred all in her field of view. A buzz echoed in her ear. It should have been quiet, yet the serenity of the forest made it seem like roaring seas.
The breathing of the figure beside the girl sounded worse than her own raspy breaths. It was like grindstones sliding down a hill of jagged steel. Vitality pooled into a puddle, replacing the lower half of the girl's sibling. The girl's innocent heart, one who had yet to see both blood and death, lurched, bile trying and failing to rise up from her stomach.
To save his elder twin, the brother had pushed the girl away.
By some miracle, his hand retained its warmth. Perhaps the stars above had taken pity on the frail humans. His legs were gone, flattened by the claws of the golden wyrm that didn't even glance at the mortals scuttering beath its feet. The sole silver lining was that he was unconscious. At least he wouldn't spend his final moments in pain.
"Don't go into the mountains," the villagers had told them. "You'll get eaten by the dragons," they said.
The girl regretted her actions. If only she had listened to them, she might have been alive. Her life wasn't the easiest one, but it was better than being dead, at least.
'Mother...'
'Please, come back...'
Memories were fragile things. The human mind was linked with the soul. So, in turn, it shares many of its traits. Unlike what most mortals think, the more you recall a memory, the more likely it is to be twisted by the mortal's mentality. Similar to how a mortal soul gradually degrades, eventually needing to be touched by reincarnation to keep functioning.
But exceptionally impactful memories were less susceptible to decay. For example, the face of one's mother. A memory hardened and tempered through decades of care and love, ensuring the child will never forget all their parent did for them: A memory as hard as a diamond.
However, diamonds were tough, sure, but they were also brittle.
The girl's recollections of her mother were always warm, yet the shroud of uncertainty was forever present. She couldn't distinguish if she had made them up or actually experienced them.
The girl remembered golden hair that flowed like ribbons and amber eyes the same shade as hers. Always clothed in a white dress and a mantle that resembled a butterfly's wings colored in rainbow. And a smile, too. Always radiant, forever innocent.
The childhood of a mortal and even a Celestial should be carefree and joyful. It teaches all that no matter how hard life gets, there will always be better memories to look back upon and work towards. It's a kind of motivation accessible to most. One that pushes mortals along the pilgrimage of life like wind propelling a sailboat.
The girl, in an ethereal dream crafted as an anesthetic to the pain of death, relived her childhood days through an avatar of her own making.
She remembered the warm sun on her skin when she played in the fields with her brother, the warmth of its golden rays that made the nearby stream glitter with a hundred shades. The emerald grass, sometimes soft, sometimes scratchy, was also a fond experience.
She remembered the summer heat, rare moments that lasted but a few days. The welcoming shade of the thin forest a distance away, where the King Dragons did not roam, and the refreshing gurgling of a stream. The excitement of catching fish with the grown-ups, proudly bragging to the older kids as she captured a minnow with a leather net.
The hues of autumn, a beautiful sight engraved into her mind like carvings on stone. Viridescent and jade transitioned into the dyes of a sunset, vibrant leaves dancing like the butterflies of spring and summer. The harvest season was always the busiest. The girl often helped with the limited skills she had, summoning clean drinking water or moving the earth to uncover vegetables. Hunting animals and reaping crops were a must if one wished to survive the cruelness of winter.
Yet despite that, the icy season was not unpleasant. White reigned as far as the eye could see, and trees replaced their bushy coat with blankets of snow. Grass went into hiding underground, protected by Mother Earth, waiting for spring to grace the land with its presence. The girl remembered the coziness of a warm home, the ashen smell of a burning fireplace, and the sweet scent of milk with honey. Bickering with her brother over who got to sit in Mom's lap as she told a story from her childhood was fun, and no actual hostility nor tears were ever shed.
They never met their father. Their mother didn't tell them where he went. He could have died in battle, or he could have left without a word to live his life elsewhere.
The lack of a worker was not something the family fretted over. The girl's mother was a good mage. Those who wielded the magical arts were rare, especially in the Manfolk race. The girl also remembered how the men in town would often bestow her with gifts. Expensive things like jewelry and decorations.
From their mother, the two children learned the mystics of magic. From the townsfolk, they experienced the knowledge of battle. Wars were typical because of the great collapse, the skirmishes with the Demonfolk seeming to drag on for eternities.
The girl's soul sang an inaudible tune, happy memories rousing her inner heart. It was not the best childhood, not one lined with gold and encrusted with silver. But it was joyful, and that's all that mattered, like a dream conjured by one's mind.
But that's all they will ever be: A dream that will never come to fruition.
If the girl could, she would give all she had and more to relive that dream once more. Yet reality was like being doused in cold water on a winter dawn.
Abandonment scars the soul, hurting for many years or even entire lifetimes. Physical wounds were quick to heal using the mystic arts, yet the soul could only be restored with the touch of reincarnation.
The mother left the two children without a peep. They were oblivious to the change until they woke up at dawn. They were young, so their immature minds believed the bold lie written on the piece of paper left on the table.
'I'll be back soon.'
Two charms glittered by the leather parchment, blinding like the sweetest deceits. What was left as a memento from their mother turned into emotional trickery that instilled false hope. A silver feather as white as a lie could be told, a glittering shield the color of fool's gold.
The grape-sized charms jingled as the girl stuffed them into her pocket, the paper left forgotten on the table.
The twins waited, alone in their house.
Each day seemed to grow colder, and the once-familiar cottage they called home seemed empty and foreign. Wood ash stung their noses, and the scent of mold began to creep inside.
The other villagers noticed the mother's disappearance. She was the most beautiful woman in town, after all. All the men realized when she vanished. One after one, they left the settlement and ventured into the endless valley where the King Dragons roamed, under the assumption she had gotten lost.
They fretted over someone who was no longer there, yet none stopped to wonder,'What about her children?'
All of them were like fools blinded by riches, mindlessly grabbing at something that could not be regained, ignoring the reality plastered in stone before them.
Why are Manfolk like this? All it would have taken was for one person to notice, for someone-anyone-to extend a hand and say, "Come with me. I'll take care of you two in her absence."
Yet all they did was walk by the empty home and stop for a gander. None remembered the two children who remained inside, waiting for an impossibility. Even if they did, they merely assured themselves,'Someone must have already saved them.'Another lie to mask reality. Another excuse to turn a blind eye.
So, the twins suffered. A misplaced punishment for the ignorance of their society. Spring was no longer beautiful, summer turned into a scorching blaze, autumn became filled with longing, and winter was hell on the mortal plane.
Yet the Stars of Wishes could not turn a blind eye to this suffering.
Finally, after four years of monotonous pain, a roar shook the emerald valleys.
Then came the unbearable heat. Even from miles away, the flames of a wyrm reached the skin of mortals. The clouds parted, making way for an iridescent portal that led to an endless ocean. The flames were doused, and the mortals were treated to the scent of a burning sea breeze.
Fires burned once more, tens of times hotter than the previous inferno. They rose into the air and mingled with the remaining clouds, painting a hauntingly stunning view akin to a crimson sunrise.
Roaring came from within the ring of mountains. Loud and low, sometimes angry, they spoke of a language used only in a distant world. To the mortals, it sounded like thunder was echoing through the field, a forgery of the rage of the God of Dragons.
A deafening boom that shook the stars themselves sent the world into a frenzy. Reality creaked and groaned under powers not meant to be used in the Mortal Planes. Stories and legends of a far-off realm beyond even the Sea of Stars etched themselves into the Material Plain, memories of the Multiverse that did not belong.
The explosions were followed by the neon crackle of lightning and the clashing of steel in scales. The mortals cowered as a blade as large as a mountain appeared from nothing, its aura alone enough to defeat the mightiest foes. It was a Sea of Stars that contrasted against the azure sky, slamming into the mountain to deliver the judgment of a provoked god.
And then, there was quiet, like the eerie stillness before and after a storm.
Nobody dared to ask what had happened in the forests deep. Nobody dared to venture that far into the realm of King Dragons.
That power...that mountain-felling blade, they should have only belonged in the wildest of legends, in the era before the fall of the Gods. Mortals feared what they did not know, and those sights were something only the stars could witness.
No one questioned anything. Nobody except the two children.
In the past, their mother once told them of a myth passed down from Manfolk to Manfolk. A dragon's corpse was a minefield of riches. From the scales that could be crafted into armor to the magic stones in its body, if you could get even a fraction of it, you could live your entire life in luxury.
But a dragon's corpse was something none had ever found. They were long-lived, and one alone could bring a country to its knees.
If the children were a little older and understood the dangers of the forest, they would have never even considered entering the forest. Alas, desperation fueled their actions, and innocence shielded them from the chains of hesitation.
The forest was haunting, hauntingly beautiful, that is. The only view of the woods the children had been treated to were the thin glades near their home, where trees were short and sparse in space, unable to block out large patches of sun.
Yet the deeper regions of the realm of King Dragons were a far cry from such a mundane sight. Trees stood tall and proud, so lush and thick that only fingertip-sized patches were alight despite the hands of autumn claiming most of their leaves. They danced, rolling around the moss and grass-reigned ground like a cluster of spilled pearls. The rustling of leaves was a natural symphony, as if the trees were speaking to the two children in a song they could not understand. Birds provided background music in the shade, singing their hearts out within the safety of their branches.
No traces of mortals were anywhere in sight. No buildings designed by the God of Men ages ago, no shrines built for the gathering of the Gods. Nature had ruled over this patch of viridian for eons, and it would continue until even the stars burned out. Homes of tree holes and nests were the only dwellings permitted by nature's will. Decorations such as vines and flowers were half-hazardly placed by the hands of random chance. Convenience was not a factor, as no mortal would dare step this deep.
And yet two children still stumbled through the vegetation, occasionally stumbling on the protruding roots that minded them not. The boy huddled close to the girl, seeking comfort in the other's presence.
Their hands were tightly clasped together, a faint tremble racking their bodies. They were young and knew little about the world, yet the code the God of Creation wrote within them screamed in defiance. Their mind's eye knew what they were doing was stupid, yet desperation was a strong motivator.
The boy tugged at his sister's hand, telling her to wait as he carved markers into the tree trunks. A small iron knife scratched into the brown bark, leaving the first remnants of man in this patch of nature. Sheathing the dagger in leather, the pair continued into the woods.
A few days passed without much progress. The pair walked during the day and stopped occasionally to gather berries and drink water. They slept in shabby forts constructed using sticks and moss.
Trees painted with the hues of fall began to thin, a clearing making itself known. Covered with dry leaves and a dusting of ferns, the ground still held patches of green that refused to fade, clinging to life for the remaining time before winter arrived.
As the twins stood in the clearing, they stared agape at the ashen land before them.
There were no trees for kilometers on end, and the ground was filled with cracks white as snow. They were filled with the smell of salt and algae. Even now, after months of rest, the sky was still dusted with ash, lingering from fires so hot they melted even sky and stars. No life could take root in this barren wasteland, the result of a battle so extreme even the gods would not take it lightly. A single tree stood in the circle of scorched earth, taller than any the children had ever seen.
To the children, this was a form of confirmation. There really had been a battle with a dragon, and this was where it happened.
And yet their hope did not last.
A looming shadow appeared above them, yellow scales enhanced by the sun's rays. A King Dragon, previously hidden by the dense forest.
It was strange that the children had not yet run into one of the beasts that ruled this mountain range. Perhaps it was dumb luck, or maybe because this forest was the territory of one of the mightiest wyrms. Who knows?
The children stared at the beast before them, petrified with fear. Finally, the girl willed her trembling legs to move, pulling her brother into the cover of a nearby tree.
The shadow's eyes gazed towards the tree at the center of the wasteland. Its pupils dialed as it spotted something, and it let out a small grunt. It turned its body, moving to leave.
It didn't see the two children hiding in the shade. It didn't move to kill them. They were as insignificant as insects to the might wyrm. In another world, perhaps the children would have gotten away alive.
Yet the dragon's foot, guided by the hands of pure bad luck, was hoisted above the same tree the twins were taking shelter under.
Alarmed by the sudden additional shade, the children realized something was wrong and bolted from one tree to another, yet they were just a step too slow. The dragon's clawed limb fell onto their bodies, unaware of the lives it was about to take.
The boy let go of the girl's hand, and she felt a sharp push.
Brown leaves were dyed a shade of crimson.
"Ah."
The girl forced her eyes to open, and an unfamiliar voice echoed within the dull silence of the plateau. The memories that had played in her head began fading, replaced with the burning pain of her wounds. Static still reigned over her vision, yet she could just about make out a figure standing before her.
Body hidden in an ivory cloak, he stood before them with an unreadable face. A young man, about fifteen years of age. Blond hair, almost golden in shade, danced in the wisps of the winds. Mis-matched eyes of blue and green stared at their bleeding forms, holding pity and another unexplainable emotion within.
The girl knew that if she wanted to survive and her brother to live, she would need to make this person know she was alive.
Commands racked her body, sent forth from the depths of her consciousness. Moving an arm was like lifting a boulder, yet the girl managed with her remaining strength, inching towards the hem of the figure's cloak.
Finally, she grabbed it.
"Hmm?" The figure murmured, looking at the blood-stained hand tugging at his white robes. For a moment, the girl feared the man would kick her hand away. He looked noble, and few of those people were known for their kindness.
Finally, after a long pause, the man spoke, bending down to lift the girl's head up.
"Fine, then. If your wish is to live, I will grant it."
'Then save my brother first!'The girl wanted to scream.'He's going to die!'
Space glimmered as a sword warped into existence. The man slashed his hand, and a firey liquid began pooling in his palm. He held his hand to the girl's mouth.
"The blood of a god can heal any mortal wound. Drink it, and don't complain. It will hurt, and you'll feel like dying, but it's better than actually being dead."
The girl wanted to choke as liquid fire coursed through her throat, yet she didn't have enough strength to do that. Fire settled in the depths of her stomach, spreading warmth throughout her body. The pains of her wounds were instead replaced with the burning of Starfire.
It was enough to make the mightiest warriors roll on the floor in agony, yet the girl did not have the luxury of doing so, depleted with energy. Instead, she slept, unconsciousness choosing to bear the pain in her sted.
Warm sunlight peeked into the window, shining onto the sleeping face of a little girl. She stirred, face scrunching at the brightness. Yet she didn't wish to wake up just yet. Pure softness was wrapped around her, a calming blanket of warmth cascading on her skin.
This felt even better than sleeping in her mother's arms. As if she were floating in the sky on a bed of clouds, bathed in the golden radiance of the sun. A gentle breeze danced around the room, bringing with it the smell of flowers and grass despite it being autumn.
Sleep was something the girl desired to fall into, yet no matter how long she closed her eyes, the hands of Hypnos refused to bring her into its realm. She had spent too long dreaming in her mind's bubble imagination, and it was now time to live within the long dream of life.
Groggily and with a pout, the girl pushed her body from the bed, noticing it felt lighter than ever before. Her eyes scanned the room she slept in, taking in the almost fairytale-like scene.
The first thing she noticed was the empty bed next to hers. The two pieces of furniture were carved from silver wood that didn't look like it belonged in this world, glittering with every color of the rainbow. Silken sheets the color of snow wrapped around her body like a messy nest.
The maroon walls were lined with shelves of books and clear, glowing tablets with letters she didn't recognize. There was a window on each of the four walls, lined with a material that looked like ice. They took up half the space on the walls, letting natural light brighten the room.
The two beds were positioned before two windows, and the remaining two had a desk pushed against them each.
With strength the girl didn't know she possessed, she jumped from her bed, a small shout of surprise echoing through the room as she rose higher than expected. She floated down and touched the ground gently, despite her expectations of slamming her face into the wooden floor.
The girl walked towards the window lined with ice. Pressing a hand against the crystalline material, she was surprised to find it warmer than expected. It was still cold compared to her warm body of flesh and blood, yet it couldn't even compare to the chill of ice.
Then, she noticed the reflection. It was the image of a girl she knew well, yet it was foreign beyond imagination.
The girl was never sickly or pale, and her skin always held a healthy dusting of light pink. Yet now, staring at her arms that were white as ivory, the girl wasn't sure what to think.
Amber was not an unusual eye color to the Menfolk, yet could her eyes be described as "amber" anymore? The girl stared into the phantom mirror, and two burning orbs of pure molten gold and liquid fire stared back. A thousand multi-colored crystals seemed to glimmer within her iris, a rainbow concealed within the confines of two minuscule gems. Her pupils, once round, were now slitted like a dragon's.
Pointed ears shaped like knives felt like they should have belonged to another as she ran a hand along them. They were too large, their shape unnatural.
She turned her head and craned her neck, trying to see if the final change she noticed in the window was real. Yes, they were there and were not figments of imagination. She felt a shiver run down her back as a gust of wind blew through the room, causing the appendages that should not be there to flutter.
Menfolk did not have wings, and no race she knew had wings like the ones on her back. They were not fluffy and lined with feathers like the fabled Skyfolk, nor were they leathery and sturdy like theancientDragonfolk.
Four butterfly wings flapped in a steady rhythm, carved from ivory and encrusted with blue enamel that formed patterns like a raging river.
This was all too surreal to be reality, so the girl had to ask, "Am I in a dream?"
"No." A gentle voice came behind her, sounding like wind chimes in spring. "You're not dreaming."
The girl turned sharply, noticing the new presence in the room. The same young man that had fed her liquid fire was standing beside the beds, carrying her unconscious brother in his arms. He placed the boy in the bed and tucked him in using the blankets.
"I see you're finally awake." The young man looked away from the boy, sitting in a chair as he talked. "That's good. I wasn't sure if any of you'd survive. What I said about my blood healing any wound was somewhat of a white lie. Hmm... Maybe you wouldn't remember that."
"How's my brother doing?" The girl quietly asked.
The man looked a bit surprised if the lifting of his eyebrows indicated anything. "I thought you would ask about your own condition first. I guess there are still some uncorrupted Menfolk in this world."
The man got up from his chair and walked over to the sleeping boy, muttering something about having just sat down while motioning the girl to come. She ran to the now-occupied bed, looking down at her brother. He, too, had changed.
The boy was always on the shorter side. Perhaps his height was inherited from their father. He seemed to have shrunk by a few inches, although the girl chalked that up to her imagination.
His ears, though shorter than her own, were also shaped like a pointed dagger. His dark brown hair was replaced with a head of pure obsidian and golden streaks. His skin, too, was like hers, pale as ivory.
"He will be fine." The man continued, placing his hand on the boy's forehead. "His fever died a few days ago, and most of his blood has been replenished. The worst of his wounds have all turned into minor bruises. All that remains is to wait for him to wake up."
'A few days ago?'The girl thought. She asked them man the foremost question in her mind. "How long have we been asleep?"
"When you count the day I found you two?" The man thought for a while, his gaze landing on a stone slab that held thirty characters. "Around a month. Winter is just beyond the horizon."
"That long?!" The girl cried. Suddenly aware of her manners, she covered her mouth and looked down sheepishly. "S-sorry."
"No worries." The man chuckled, an amused smile tugging his lips.
"S-So, Mister-"
"Right." The man suddenly realized, cutting the girl off before she could say anything more. He rubbed his neck sheepishly before extending a hand towards the girl. "I haven't introduced myself, have I? How rude of me. I'm sorry. My name is Anima, Anima Animusphere. It's nice to meet you, little girl."
The girl stared at the outstretched hand, cocking her head as she wondered what the man wanted her to do.
"You're supposed to introduce yourself and shake my hand." The man explained with a smile.
"O-oh." The girl gingerly took the hand. "I'm Melusine. Nice to meet you."
"Yes, likewise." Anima nodded with a satisfied smile. "Now, what did you wish to ask me?"
"W-What happened to us?" The girl asked.
Anima hummed, "That I do not know. You were already half dead when I found you. Perhaps you angered a dragon?"
Melusine shook her head, pointing a hand towards her eyes while using the other to gesture at her wings. "No, not that. What's going on with my body?"
"Ah, that." Anima nodded. He looked apologetic, his eyes holding a solemn light. "I'm sorry. You wished to live, did you not? I healed you using a method I was sure would work. But I had only done it once before. It seems there were unknown consequences that did not appear during the first case. Perhaps because he already had the blood of dragons in his veins."
"Th-then you mean...?"
"I'm sorry." The man said again, his head dipped low as his bangs shadowed his eyes. "Cheating death always has a steep price. Your appearance changing was the one you paid to live. I wish I could have used my Runes of Healing, but you were already too far gone."
"N-no." The girl shook her head. "Don't apologize, Mister. You saved me and my brother. That's all I can ask for. I don't care about the rest."
"I see." Anima smiled, a look of relief flooding his face. "I have met many who were infatuated with their appearance. I am glad you are not one of them."
The golden-haired man walked to one of the tables in the room. Melusine followed him, curious about what he was trying to do. Her body felt light and strong, and almost all her energy had been replenished. Besides the occasional sore spot, she was as good as new.
Anima paused before the table lit by sunlight. He waved a finger in a circular motion. A small porcelain cup formed from nothing on the table, its patterns glimmering under the sun. He conjured a small orb of water as a few dried leaves fluttered into the liquid, seemingly originating from somewhere beyond the window. A spark burst to life and grew into a faint flame under the sphere of water. Soon, it was boiling, and steam was steadily rising. When the water turned a clear amber, it trickled into the cup on the table.
Anima pulled out the chair before walking towards the door. He turned to Melusine, waving a hand towards the table and cup. "Drink that. It's something that will calm your nerves. You must be hungry after a month of slumber, so I'll go get some food."
The golden-haired man walked through the door, and Melusine couldn't help but blink. Was it her imagination, or did the young man seem to glow? Were there letters that circled around his head just now?
"Oh," Anima turned to close the door but left it open at the last second. "You can explore if you want. The worst of your wounds have healed, and there shouldn't be any ailments to your movement. I'll call you when lunch is ready."
With that, Anima left, his steps light on the wooden bridge, leaving the girl alone in her new room. She stared at the white cup before her that was filled with steaming amber liquid. It has a pleasant smell, like freshly cut grass and dried herbs. Gingerly, she pressed her lips to the cup and took a small sip.
She promptly spat out the deceptively smelling leaf juice. For one, it was too hot and burned her tongue. As for another thing, it was sour and bitter, with an aftertaste that left her mouth uncomfortable. But, she supposed, Anima had told her it would help her with her pain. So it was medicine, right? And that was supposed to taste awful, right?
Her mother had told her to take medicine when it was offered to her as it would help her grow big and strong. Honoring the words of her Mom, she pinched her nose and drained the cup of vile liquid in one go.
The smell didn't affect the taste too much, as those two factors were night and day. The girl used the magic her mother taught her to conjure fresh water into her cup and used it to wash her mouth.
She then turned her gaze towards the sleeping face of her sibling. His face was serene, and the pained expressions she had seen on him were but a foggy memory. His skin was bloodless, and crimson did not dye his hair. His limbs, though still bound in thin bandages, leaked no blood. Anima had told her he would be fine. She did not know the intricacies of healing magic, so she could do little to sate her worries. The most she could do was hope Anima was right in his assumptions.
'Please, wake up,'grasping her twin's hand, she held it to her forehead and prayed to the God of Men.'Oh, Gods, if you are listening, please let my brother live.'
Silence seemed to reign for an eternity as nothing but the silent whispers of worship and faith danced throughout the room. For one thousand years, the Six Gods have been killed, yet some still cling to the hope that one still may live.
The girl was no immortal demon, nor was she one of the fabled Dragonfolk. She never lived to see the might of the gods. To her, they might as well have been concepts made up by the people around her. Most Menfolk were like her. They were short-lived, and even a thousand years foretold a grand shifting of ideals and cultures. Yet she still prayed to those she did not know. For it was her fault that her brother was this hurt, that they were now warped beyond recognition.
Sunlight shone brighter, and a warm breeze wafted through the room, caressing her face like a mother would their child. Perhaps this was an omen? That the God of Men had heard her prayers?
The girl knew not what the gods thought, so she could only take the questionable signs for granted. She stood up, choosing to explore her room as she had nothing else to do.
There wasn't anything too extraordinary on the inside besides the vines and flowers that bloomed around the window. Their colors were mystical and should have only belonged in one's imagination. A quick inspection told the girl that the windows could be slid open and a balcony was beyond it.
Melusine slid open the window and poked her head out the frame, a slight shiver racking her body. It was true. Fall was over, and despite no snow on the ground yet, the weather reflected the changing seasons.
"Hmm? My clothes?"
She hadn't noticed, but she was no longer clad in the leatherwear she once had. Instead, a blue and white frilled skirt covered her body, her arms covered by two white sleeves. Her legs were bare and were the cause of her sudden coldness. She looked around the room and found a pair of long stockings and pale blue shoes on a nearby chair.
"Are these socks?" Melusine picked up the two items crafted from dull purple fabric, her head tilting as she wondered about their use.
The girl had never seen stockings since they were something only the richest could wear. But the vaguely familiar shape of the two pieces of clothing told her what to do with them. Sitting on the chair, she pulled the stockings up her leg, stumbling a bit on her first try. The second went up her leg a bit smoother, though it would take time before she got used to this. Finally, she slipped her feet into the shoes prepared for her. They fit snuggly, and the material felt hard but comfortable.
A small smile was on her face as she judged her reflection. She looked beautiful like her mother, and she was proud of that.
Now that she had something covering her legs from the chill of winter, Melusine walked onto the balcony in full, taking in the sight below her. The barren wasteland she had first seen was gone. Trees grew everywhere, their trunks purple and smeared with colors and glitter. Their leaves were colored in rainbow, crystalline and shining like diamonds in the sun. Golden grass covered the once-ashen ground. Was it her imagination, or were they faintly glowing? Wildflowers of every hueadded color to the tapestry below, like gems in a treasury of gold.
Turning to the side, she saw a maze of bridges hidden within branches. The house she was in had been built on a truly massive tree. It towered over the rest of the forest, tens of times taller than the other trees. Its leaves were a myriad of different hues, even more vibrant than the rest. There were many more dwellings hidden within the canopy, too thick for her to see them all. They were connected with bridges of wood and vines, the occasional flower blooming towards the sun.
Ever since she woke up, it had felt like a dream. Her body's changes, the young man with golden hair, and now this breathtaking view. All of this felt like it belonged in a fairy tale. And perhaps that was where she was. Gusts of winter winds rustled the leaves, producing a sound like a calming lullaby.
"Do you like the view?"
She jumped, startled by the sudden voice. How in the world did Anima walk so silently? Just another mystery she'll never know, Melusine supposed.
"Yeah. It's like something from a fairy tale Mom used to tell."
Anima stared wistfully at the scenery, his eyes clouding as an unreadable look appeared on his face. It was a fond smile mixed with longing and eyes that held the light of fear and regret.
"Then I suppose I did a good job." Anima sighed, one filled with longing. "Where I come from is considered 'Paradise' to you mortals. Though this is only a shadow of its true beauty, the plants I summoned from the Astral Realms have taken root quite nicely."
"Did you grow all this in one month, Mister?"
"Yes, I did." Anima nodded. "And I have a name, Young Miss. Please use it."
"O-oh, okay. But how did you grow all this in one month? And it's winter!"
A mischievous smile crept up Anima's face, reminding Melusine of the tricks she played with her brother. A hand was held out, and sparks of light danced in Anima's palm.
"Magic."
He pointed his fingers at a dying branch, and the sparks floated over to it like fireflies. They sank into the dry wood, and with a precise pulse of Mana, leaves burst forth as buds began to grow, the once-dead regaining life once more.
As Anima further tended to the once-decaying branch, snipping off the occasional weak-looking leaf, Melusine was left with silence to process what she had just seen. That was something she had never seen before in her short years. Even her Mom couldn't restore life back to the dead.
There were only three who could even think about accomplishing this impossible miracle. Passed down from Menfolk to Menfolk, the legends of ages long gone were twisted, yet grains of truth still remained, clinging to life.
Three of the Six Gods held Authority over the cycle of life. The God of the Sky governed life, the God of Men wielded the blade of death, and the God of Dragons knew the secrets of reincarnation. The girl was unsure if the legends were true. Still, her curiosity got the better of her, and she asked the man who saved her.
"Are you a god, Mister Anima?"
The mentioned man let the crystal leaf in his hand get carried off with the wind. He turned towards Melusine, his brows raised.
"What brought this on?"
"O-oh, nothing." A little worried she had offended the kind man, Melusince quickly receded her previous question, earning a small chuckle from Anima.
"No need to worry. Come and eat first. The food will get cold if it's left out too long. I'll answer that question and any more you have once you're full."
A look inside the room was enough for the little girl to run inside. The delicious smell coming from within the room was another motivator. Her stomach grumbled, finally letting its owner know its dissatisfaction with being starved for over a month.
There was a bowl of chunky soup, a bit too thin to be called a proper stew. A few thin breadsticks were set aside on another plate, steaming as they sat beside another bowl of fresh fruits. The portions were all smaller than expected, but they were made for a nine-year-old.
"I didn't expect any need for another to live here, so I didn't prepare any rations. This is all I could find on short notice. It's surprising how much wild wheat and rice grows in these fields..." Anima stared out the window, presumably at the place where he harvested the raw ingredients. "It's not much, but please, dig in. I've forgotten almost everything about the Menfolk body and its needs, but I think this is what you would consider a 'balanced meal.'"
A single sniff was enough to break the girl's non-existent self-control. Anima huffed an amused sigh, summoning a cup of water while warning Melusine not to choke.
In no time at all, the food was gone, leaving a satisfied girl rubbing her tummy. Anima dismissed the plates with a snap, and they returned to the earth that made them. He handed Melusine a handkerchief he fetched from within his cloak and sat in another chair.
"Now, onto your earlier question..." Anima sighed, a thoughtful look plastered on his face. He was thinking about how to give the girl an answer she would be satisfied with without revealing the whole truth.
"Yeah?"
"The simple answer is yes. I am indeed a god. My full name is Anima Animusphere, God of Void."
"Really?" Melusine fearlessly asked.
If she were a little older or had parents to teach her the might of the gods, she would have been far more respectful, maybe even prostrating herself on the ground. Yet she was but a child, and Anima understood that. He was never one to notice such trivial things.
"Yes." Casually, Anima pointed a finger out the window. Instantly, the branches in the approximate direction rapidly grew, budding flowers and leaves even as winter blanketed the lands. A harmless yet impresionable display of Divine Authority. "Void, or Mana, as you mortals call it, is the energy that moves your bodies and causes growth and change. It is what souls are made of. Using my powers, I can increase the development of individuals or even restore lost life."
"But I've never heard of a God of Void in Mom's stories." Melusine dutily noted. Her memory was impressive for her age, and the bedtime stories and warnings of her mother never escaped her ears.
"I suppose you wouldn't have." Anima huffed crypticly, a knowing glint in his eyes. "But just in case, can you brief me on these 'stories?'"
The conversation then became one-sided. Melusine began recounting the tales her mother told while Anima listened silently and dutily. From how the God of Creation built the Six-Faced World to the Six Gods birthed from the Creator's death, and then to how the worlds fell.
It was far from the best of stories, partly because the teller was a child, and she often stumbled on difficult words. In those instances, Anima stepped in to offer his words of advice. Yet no matter how much she stumbled, Melusine got the point across.
When she was finished, Anima nodded. "I see. Then I do appear in those legends, just not under this form and name."
"What do you mean, Mister Anima?"
"Ah. That's a bit too complicated for you to understand." Anima sucked in a breath, trying to redirect the flow of the conversation toward something that wouldn't reveal too many of his secrets. "Do you have any more questions?"
"Are you connected to the Six Gods?"
It was the logical conclusion. A god was not a mortal. Even the Immortal Demons or Ancient Dragons had to die one day. Yet only gods lived for all of eternity and wielded powers beyond comprehension. No matter how different, gods should have some similarities.
"I am." Anima nodded in confirmation. She scratched his chin, pondering on how to advance. When he had a shaky idea he could work with, he continued. "I suppose you could call them...my brothers. Yes, my elder brothers. We were seven children borne under the same'Father.'"
The word that was laced with more venom than the others and a carefully hidden scowl did not go unnoticed. Even if Melusine was a child, it did not mean she was ignorant or stupid. She was always an attentive child, so she caught the downward twitching of Anima's lips and the faint rage in his eyes. They were swiftly quelled and suffocated by an ocean of emptiness.
"Oh..."
She wanted to ask why he was so angry towards the one he called "Father," yet something deep in her soul screamed at her that was a bad idea. Somehow, she knew that if she angered this being, she would not only die, but her soul would never ever be touched by the purifying hands of reincarnation again. It was another shard of the primal code the God of Creation had written inside her: If you wish to live, never anger the Northern Star.
"Were you close to your brothers?" Melusine asked.
"No. I don't think we were." Anima sighed, silent rage replaced with hollow regret, his eyes slightly downcast to give the impression of a guilty child. He breathed in deeply, and when he exhaled, something akin to a sob escaped his throat. "My brothers fought for all their lives, never getting along. At that time, I suppose I was what you Menfolk call 'a baby,' so I didn't understand anything."
A fist clenched and loosened, leaving imprints of nails that bled Starfire and lifeblood. Just as inconspicuously as they appeared, they vanished as wounds stitched themselves together, the Multiverse itself healing the Void God's wounds.
"Their petty arguments led to the destruction of five worlds, leaving mine as the sole one intact. How foolish. How narrow-minded. If only I had been born earlier, if only I hadn't been sealed by Father, if only I had killed thatFakerwhen I had th-"
The God caught himself before he could go further with his spile of curses. The temperature had dipped in the room, frost crawling up the windows. Shadows pooled under Anima's chair, liquid like water yet sharp as knives. Melusine sat in her chair, small racks of shivers running down her spine.
A blanket wrapped around her body without noise, weaved from the air around her. The room was warmed by the light of a fallen Star.
"I'm sorry. I forgot myself in the moment." Anima murmured his apology, his entire body tingled with white and golden flames.
Sweat built on his forehead as his body strained. His divine lungs rasped for the Celestial building blocks of Hydrogen and Helium to maintain Nuclear Fusion, even for a short while. Yet those rare elements were no longer available to him in the plenty. He was no longer a Star but a mere Moon. He had no more Authority to wield the flames of the Stars.
Yet lingering embers clung loyally to him, choosing to serve him until they sputtered out.
The fear in Melusine's eyes was beginning to dissipate, yet the room's temperature refused to rise. She tightened the blanket's covering on her.
"It's all right. I can't imagine a life where my brother and I fought every day. Was it painful?"
The once-human twins did everything together. They had no other choice. Their mother left them when they were still young. They had to rely on each other if they wanted to survive. So their bonds were tempered and strengthened through the trials life threw at them, and they became as close as siblings could be.
"Oh, yes." Anima nodded dully, "It hurt beyond imagination."
Anima sighed again. He found himself doing so more often than not these days. His bones ached with phantom pains as he pushed himself up. While the wounds his Alter-Egos sustained while fighting one another did not carry over to the Mortal Shell he dwelled in, their memories did.
He beckoned the girl he saved to do the same, ending their conversation that lasted for an entire afternoon. Wishing to diverge the conversation to something less dreary, Anima opened the door.
"Come, let me show you around. You will be living here until spring returns. That will be when you are healed enough to return. I also need to teach you how to conceal your new forms."
The sun was in the waning stages of its path across the sky, peeking out from behind the western mountains. Fluffy clouds caught the lingering rays of sunlight, becoming dyed with hues of warmth and flames, almost like red carpets lined for the coming of the Stars.
As the final radiance of the day glimmered and went, darkness claimed the lands, yet the guardians of the night sky paved the way for mortal-kind. The stars waltzed as they told their tales in silent languages, and the moon's pale light bathed the world in silver. It had appeared a few years prior, so it was but a baby compared to the ages of the Human World.
Yet the world was far from dark in Melusine's eyes.
A golden barrier was erected around her, with the tree she stood on as the anchor. It circled the entire mystical clearing, patterned with emblems of chains. The flora all glowed their respective colors, and specks of light danced like fireflies in the tall, golden grass. Yet none were as radiant as the man walking in front. Light seemed to dance around his form, gold as the sun and silver as the moon. Seems the man wasn't lying when he said he was a God.
One question stood most prominent in Melusine's mind: If this place is this beautiful, why hadn't people come here already?
Anima looked behind, noticing her surprised face as she looked all around.
"The barrier is only visible to those inside it." He explained with a proud smile. "Those on the other side will only see the flora and fauna native to these lands."
The pair continued along the wooden bridge. It didn't shake or rock despite only being held up by vines and branches. The designs the God of Beasts invented had been perfected over the course of more than ten thousand years. Leaves formed a curtain around the bridge, and colorful flowers bloomed on the vines they grew on.
Now that she wasn't cooped up in her room, Melusine could see more of the structure built on the winding branches. It was like a village constructed on a tree instead of the ground. A dozen houses were perched upon the treetop, covered with an umbrella of crystalline leaves.
Anima said where they had come from was a spare guest house he had built on a whim. He had planned to turn it into a storage room, but it was now getting used as intended.
From there, they circled the tree's canopy. First was a forge that bubbled with the sound of magma and molten steel. Its walls were built from grey stone, and the roof was carved from obsidian.
"Won't it burn the tree down?" Melusine asked.
'No, of course not." Anima answered. "This entire tree is a part of me. It's like an extra limb for me to manipulate. I know what happens on each of its branches and roots and can act accordingly. Such as summoning water to put out fires or locating children lost in the woods."
Their next stop was a building with wooden walls and a stone-tiled roof. There were no windows, and the door had a steel knocker.
"That's the armory," Anima explained. "I recommend staying clear of it for the time being."
"Why?" Melusine asked. Children were curious. It was their nature. But it was also curiosity that killed the cat.
"Some of the weapons I crafted can destroy this world many times over. I wish to preserve the remnants of my Elder Brothers."
Gingerly, Melusine nodded as they continued. The bridge led to a small cottage of stone bricks and a wooden roof. A single window faced where the sun would rise. Melusine could just about make out tablets of clear crystal and shelves lined with trinkets she had never seen before.
"This is my workshop. It's where I weave spells and craft charms. If you wish to find me, look here first. I almost never leave this place."
"Okay." Melusine nodded. "But is there a difference between this and the forge?"
Anima hummed, looking behind him even though the tree's leaves covered the forge from this far away. "Not really. I create things in both, so there isn't much difference. But I tend to strain this body more in the forge, and it's more chaotic there."
Then came a house made purely of the ice-like material that lined the windows in her room. Countless pots filled with earth had plants growing inside them, and creeping ivy had covered one of the four walls. Oddly enough, there was an area behind the crystal house with trees growing on it. Melusine wasn't sure if they were branches of the tree she was on or separate ones.
"That's the greenhouse. I experiment with growing plants from the Astral Realms there. The trees in the back are just ordinary fruit trees, though."
"What are the 'Astram Realms?'" Anima had only mentioned it once before, yet those words seemed to stir emotion from within his heart.
"Ah, that..." Anima's eyes clouded over. He shook his head, and they cleared, leaving wisps of emotion no one but their owner could see. "That's my childhood home. It's where I was born and raised."
"Are they the heavens beyond the clouds?" Melusine asked. "That's where most people think the Gods live."
"...Yes." Anima nodded. "I guess you could think of it like that."
The bridge soon turned into a winding stairway leading to the tallest peak of the tree. It was the highest point in this entire forest, almost as tall as the mountains around them. Unlike the others, there were no leaves blocking the skies. There wasn't even a roof on the building to block out wind and rain. It was a flat platform of white marble, with pillars of quartz rising a few meters above. A rocking chair was placed at the platform's center, swaying from the gusts of winds.
"What's this?" Melusine asked, looking around the plain and bizarre structure she didn't know the purpose of.
"This is where I stargaze," Anima answered. He paused, causing Melusine to turn and look at him. A look of longing was plastered on his face, barely visible to the girl. A question escaped his mouth before he could stop it. "Do you like the stars, Melusine?"
"Yeah! They're like jewels in the sky. And they look so pretty in the night. I'm not scared of the dark because of them!"
"I see," Anima murmured softly. "It seems you're doing well, Brothers, Sisters..."
"Hmm?"
"O-Oh, it's nothing." Anima shook his head, clearing it of random thoughts. "Yes, the Stars are beautiful, aren't they?"
It was but a short pause in his tour, but the God allowed himself to gaze at his kin beyond the sky, reminiscing the fond times he had when he was also within their realm.
They continued their path after moments of Melusine tugging at Anima's sleeve. They descended from the treetop, with Anima showing Melusine other buildings along the way down. Most of the rest were empty, as Anima hadn't decided what to do with them.
Finally, they arrived at the tree's massive trunk. There was a maroon door lined with golden frames. The bark was a constant swirl of arrays of colors, more vibrant than a rainbow after a storm.
"The stairway to the ground is within this door," Anima explained. "You can go down if you want, but I would wait until sunrise."
"Why's that?" Melusine asked.
"Monsters," Anima muttered. "They're too dumb and aggressive for their own good, their bodies and minds twisted with Mana. I placed a ward around this barrier to deter anyone from entering, yet those beasts still wander inside every night."
Right, Monsters. Melusine was familiar with them. Who couldn't be? They were the main worry of her village, besides the war between Demonfolk and Menfolk. Recently, more and more have begun showing up.
"I wonder why that is..." She muttered.
Anima rubbed his neck. "That's my Elder Brother's fault."
"How?" Melusine asked. "Weren't they killed?"
"It isbecausehe is dead that this is happening." Anima sighed, a simple hologram appearing to make explaining easier. Three orbs appeared, with lines connecting them that formed a triangle. "Life is but a cycle of death and rebirth. As you said in your mother's tales, the God of the Sky was also the God of Life. The God of Men was the God of Death, and the God of Dragons was the God of Reincarnation."
Three symbols appeared on the three orbs. A human, a dragon, and an angel, respectively. The visions on the hologram twisted and morphed. They told a story, the story of a single soul.
"When someone dies, their soul is picked up by the God of Death, then shepherded to the God of Reincarnation. The God of Reincarnation purifies the soul and wipes its memories, then gifts the soul to the God of Life. The God of Life will place the reborn soul into a new body. That is the process you mortals call 'Rebirth.' It happens without the Gods needing to pay attention to it, as their existence alone is enough for 'Rebirth' to occur."
Anima balled his hand into a fist, and the orb with the Menfolk symbol shattered. With it, darkness began creeping from the shattered orb.
"Yet when the God of Men died, no one noticed. Because he had been replaced by a Faker wearing his corpse. The departed souls no longer had someone to guide them to Reincarnation's purifying hands, and so they were doomed to wander the earth. Their lingering regrets fueled them to reanimate their corpses. My brothers didn't know what had happened, as the God of the Sky and the God of Dragons had no idea they wielded the cycle of life." Anima twirled his hand, and the illusion vanished into motes of golden light. "And those are the majority of the pitiful creatures you mortals call 'Monsters.' Others had their bodies twisted by Mana, by my domain. I had no wish to do any of this. It is simply Mana's nature. That is why I tend to be as merciful as possible when I eliminate Monsters: They are nothing more than tortured souls longing for death."
"O-Oh..." Melusine muttered. She had no idea of that tragic backstory. She always thought Monsters just spawned from the shadows when nobody was looking. As she thought about being alone, forced to wander the earth, she suddenly felt sorry for the mindless beasts she used to fear.
"But if that happens, why doesn't everyone that has died become a Monster?"
"That's because I'm here," Anima answered.
"Huh?"
"I am the God of Void, remember? Void is just another fancy word for Mana. I can manipulate Mana as I wish, and souls are just a more complicated form of Mana. With my abilities, I can somewhat replace my fallen brethren in shepherding the deceased souls, though my presence can only reincarnate so many at once."
Anima huffed dissapointedly. "I had wished to distance myself from those tragic beasts, yet they wander in my barrier every night. Look there." Anima pointed towards a hole in the tree's canopy. A group of animals had begun running towards the tree they were on. "Monsters are drawn towards places of high Mana density. This place has more Mana than any other realm in this world, almost as much as the Void World. So it attracts them like a magnet."
As the shapes drew nearer to the tree, Melusine could make out what they were: A group of black boars with long tusks and bloody eyes, leaving a trail of stomped vegetation behind in their wake.
"Can you cover your ears for a second, Melusine?" Anima asked.
Somehow, the girl felt the Mana around her twist in unnatural ways. Her new wings nervously fluttered as she sensed the change. She knew something was happening, so she did as Anima asked.
Seeing as the girl he had saved did as he had asked, Anima grabbed at the threads of Mana in this world. He would have liked to send a few swords crafted from light at the Monsters and be done with it, but he supposed it wouldn't be a good idea to show blood and gore to this young girl.
A trick invented by his first daughter came to mind. Yes, it would do. It wouldn't leave any flesh behind, just charred ash. She took inspiration from the lightning constantly crackling around her Dyson Sphere's "eye."
Anima gripped the air above the monsters and began pumping energy into them. By exciting the molecules he had control over, they would produce charge and exchange electrons. And when that charge built up enough...
'Thou art the Thunder that smites the Stars...'
A flick of his finger was all it took to send the white-hot blade of judgment down to earth. Hotter than even the surface of the sun, it scorched the ground and more, burrowing deep into the earth. The sky broke and ripped as it screamed in pain, a thousand storms forming and clearing in a matter of nanoseconds.
Melusine winced as her knees buckled. Even with her ears covered, she heard the sound of thunder and the crackle of lightning. Her eyes weren't shrouded, though, and she saw as the bolt of lightning descended from the cloudless sky to smite the Monsters below. She stared at the man before her in awe. Such a powerful attack and he didn't seem winded at all.
"Will you teach me that?" She asked. Anima had said he would teach her to hide her new form, so maybe he would add this as a bonus.
"I mean, if you want to, sure." Anima shrugged. "It's pretty easy to learn. You only need a lot of Mana."
Before Melusine could thank Anima profusely, another shadow joined the ones belonging to the rainbow leaves. A golden eye peeked into the opening within the canopy, and a sharp claw widened the hole with a swift swipe.
'Lord of Dragons.'Melusine shivered at the deep rumble that was a voice.'What was the purpose of that lightning? Could you not have used your blades of light?'
"Did I disturb your slumber, Kajakt?" Anima asked with a hint of apology, seemingly undisturbed by the massive dragon peering at his comparatively small form.
The platinum-haired girl stared at the golden shadow with wide eyes. This beast was unlike the one that had almost killed her. That dragon had pale yellow scales that dully reflected the sun. Yet the creature before her had scales of radiant gold, glimmering under the light of the pale moon. Its eyes of molten amberwere intelligent, staring quizzingly at her form as she cowered behind Anima's body.
The branches parted on their own, influenced by a wall of gravity as the dragon floated towards the bridge they stood on. Its leather wings, hardened through various battles, were unmoving even though the dragon was aloft. Spheres of distorted space were under its wings, accompanied by the howl of violent winds.
If the wyrm that almost killed her was a mere servant, then this dragon was a noble king.
Melusine's breath hitched in her throat, though it took some time for her mind to register the response. Fear crept up within her mind as tears threatened to spill like waterfalls. Her body violently shook as she clung to Anima's cloak, trying to make herself as small as a butterfly and hide within its ivory fabrics.
'Oh, dear..." Anima murmured, a calming hand placed on Melusine's head.
'Did I scare her, Lord of Dragons?'The voice was toned down. Still gruff and low, yet now gentle. Even if he was a dragon, Kajakt knew the frailness of the Menfolk.
"I can see you didn't mean to, but yes." Anima patted Melusine's back in light and rhythmic beats, trying to calm her using techniques that should have been used on a baby. "She was almost killed by one of your kind. It will take time for the traumato fade. Perhaps never."
The dragon paused, its gleaming eyes focused on the little girl hiding in his Lord's cloak. It took note of her reactions to its growls.
'Does she understand the Dragon Tongue, Lord of Dragons? She seems to understand us as we speak.'
"Perhaps." Anima looked down at the shivering girl. "I fed her my blood, a mix of all my Alter-Egos. Perhaps all the time I spent around you has caused my blood to regain its Dragonic nature."
'But that would not make her speak our tongue.'Kajakt replied.'Your people could not communicate with us. Your Dragon Kings and Emperor held no ability to understand us. Even the God of Beasts could only guess what we thought. Only you, Lord of Dragons, understood our kind when we roared and cried.'
"Then perhaps my blood has changed her soul?" Anima suggested. "She had a run-in with death, and her soul adapted to survive it. Maybe the change was influenced by the Dragonic blood I fed her?"
'That is a better theory.'Kajakt nodded.'Though we can only guess.'
With a small puff of smoke, the dragon turned its heel.'I shall return to my slumber if you no longer require my assistance.'
"Yeah, you do that." Anima nodded.
The dragon floated through the hole in the leaves. Magic forced the broken branches to regrow. Soon, the opening was no larger than it originally was.
"Alright, you can come out now. The big bad dragon's gone." Anima said to the still-shivering girl.
"Th-Th..."
"Th...?"
"Th-The dragon spoke!?"
"Yes," Anima stated. "I'm surprised you could understand us."
"B-But won't he burn this tree down?" Melusine asked shakily.
"Oh, no." Anima waved his hand dismissively. "Kajakt knows better than to do so. I defeated him in battle, so he now serves me. Think of him like a golden, oversized watchdog."
'That was un-called for, Lord of Dragons.'A grumble came from below the two, sounding like someone speaking with a scowl.'I may have lost, but I still have my pride, shattered as it is.'
A chuckle escaped Anima's mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Sorry about that."
"So he won't hurt me?" Melusine asked.
"No, he won't," Anima responded. "If he does, I'll send a few swords down his throat."
'Please don't joke about that, Lord of Dragons.'
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Any thoughts?
It's been a while since I touched anything related to MT, so the info might be a little messed up, but, hey. Minor details.
If there are any suggestions, leave those in the comments too.
See you all in the next one, if I have the motivation to continue this story, anyway.