《Children of the Arcana》


 The Anabasis

    (the Anabasis [king.magus]. YouTube, 12 August 2858)


    "Arise, shine; for your light has come... For behold, darkness will cover the earth..."


    On February 9, 2097, our universe collided with another¡ªan event that would be known as the Anabasis for it was an ascension. It seemed as if the universe would tear itself a part but then on March 10, everything settled, and everything and anything awoke to a new reality, a reality vastly different.


    Virtually all documented species of flora and fauna, gaining physics-defying abilities that were oddly biological in nature. The state of the world transformed overnight¡ªlegendary beasts from mythology were made a reality as inorganic features of the Earth unexplainably came into life, it was fairly adaptable until...


    On this day, 760 years ago, obsidian-colored objects fell from the sky, covered in blue lines of fire and pulsating streaks of lightning, followed by a loud boom heard across the entire surface of the world. When they landed, they brought with them... entities of another reality, demons and angels we called them.


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    And demons and angels they were, godlike creatures beyond our ken.


    For nearly five-hundred years, they waged a war against each other. Humanity and the native denizens of this planet were at their mercy, but then, the Archmage arrived, along with his companions.


    Was he an angel? A demon? Or a real god? We do not know. All we know is that the Archmage taught us the way to fight back the demons and the angels, with the art of Magic. With Magic, humanity was now a force to be reckoned with. And we fought the angels and the demons, and after a hundred years of fighting, achieved a victory but not without cost: an estimated three billion human lives were lost.


    And in the aftermath of this war, the London Accord was signed between the representatives of the three races, ushering in a new era.


    ***

 Chapter 0.1 (Dragon Ascending)

    0.1


    At the beginning of the 20th century, the Bia?owie?a Forest begun its steady decline, but when the Anabasis occurred, all the last primeval woodlands of the planet¡ªwhich the Bia?owie?a was one of the largest of¡ªthrived once more.


    ***


    Several millennia-old lindens, oaks and elms stood triumphantly with their crowns of verdant greens, scorching reds and vibrant yellows¡ªa parliament of arboreal nobility. It was dark within the forest as the Sun descended, casting a glossy light of orange and purple over the trees, the grass, the flowers and the beasts as faint mana swirled, spiraled and twirled across down below the forest canopy and between suspended beams of dimming sunlight.


    It is 2856, and deep inside this forest, further in where the woodlands were older, untouched, where nymphs and faeries danced, sang, loved and dwelt, there was a large grove and inside this grove, a beast as old as the forest surrounding it, slumbered. The beast looked like a giant, winged saurian endowed with curved horns¡ªits whole frame measuring to approximately thirty-seven meters in length from the nose-tip to the tip of its tail. Its head was framed with sea-green down, glimmering under the light of the falling Sun, and trailing down the neck to viridian scales shimmering and pulsing with primal mana.


    The beast was a dragon¡ªforces of nature given life by the power of the Anabasis. The creature curled up on itself, its emerald wings like a green, velvet sheet wrapped around it, and from the shade of an ancient tree, a man shrouded in red robes stepped out and from under the shadows of his cowl, his eyes glowed blue like distant stars. He approached the sleeping beast, lacking any hesitance in his steps, and then he stopped in front of it and knelt. ¡°Awaken, young one,¡± he whispered, a hand on the beast''s snout. ¡°It is time.¡± The man whistled a brief somber tune, his hand still on the beast, and ending with a haunting trill. He then took some steps back.


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    And scaled eyes opened, revealing iridescent gems for eyes, then its jaws opened slightly and a deep susurrus seeped out and though low, it made the nearest trees shiver, terrifying the nearby creatures into fleeing. Bia?owie?a rose up on its four legs and stretched its wings, harassing some of the elderly trees around the clearing. Then, it stood on it hind legs and roared, a terrible echo resounding throughout the forest.


    "Anamai,¡± said the man under the cover of the dragon''s shadow, prompting the dragon to roar again, shaking once more the forest and its denizens. And with the beating of its wings, Bia?owie?a flew upwards to the vastness of the blue sky, until it vanished from the man''s sight and it was his turn to disappear.


    ¡°This world shall be ours, again¡±, these words echoed through the forest, bringing a certain calmness back into the forest.


    ***

 Chapter 1.0

    Prologue


    Lee.


    On the horizon, above the forest canopy, high mountains stood defiantly against the encompassing, true blackness of the heavens¡ªa silver crown under black. Behind their snow-capped peaks, the fiery glow of stars twinkled and sparkled like ships, blazing, drifting in the night. I was walking on a narrow, dirt road that looked like a brushstroke of pale brown on a canvas of emerald green. The trees beside the path seemed to have grown in accordance to the pathway for they curved towards it: an archway of branches and leaves, and among its serpentine roots, a multitude of flowers, unknown to me, bloomed and glimmered like gems arrayed with leaves.


    Every time, I appeared on this plane, I would find myself here in this forest, which I named John¡¯s¡ªan English variant of my name¡ªLanding, and a sense of tranquility would overtake me. The chirping of the birds and the buzzing of the insects interspersed among the low howling of the winds only added to the calming ambiance and though I was isolated from the problems that were present in reality, it did not mean that I was alone here, because within the confines of this dream-space, there exists several personages that I was not aware of, until a year after I discovered¡ªwell, not so much discovered, considering this is my mind¡ªimagined (I guess) this place. The oddest thing was the fact that these people had autonomy here, I could talk with them and vice-versa, they could walk all around here but most just stayed inside their respective realms.


    I had walked out of the forest now and into a wide, circular clearing. I had stuck to calling this place, the ¡®Garden of Congregation¡¯, owing to the fact that it was most likely the center of this realm. Every path in some ways always led to here, even if you never noticed it. But what was more unusual was the fact that a long, wooden table was at the center of the Garden, surrounded by at least twenty armchairs of a similar make that were in turn surrounded by the myriad medley of alien flowers growing all around. I started walking towards a chair at the western head of the table. I hadn¡¯t known why but I knew this was mine because I was always drawn to it. It was at first to my surprise that upon closer inspection, the chairs weren¡¯t at all the same¡ªthey each had their own design¡ªmine was made from some black material and dark, purple fabric, and embroidered on the cushion was a simple circle.


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    I sat down, gazing at the blend of colors that was the sky, and then the seat beside my left trembled and a figure materialized: a tall, black-haired person sitting with his feet on the chair. He had pale, white skin and looked to be Nihonjin or Tiankongese but his eyes were a piercing blue, looking like two small, burning Suns of sapphire flames, suggesting perhaps mixed-ancestry. He was older and taller than me by some significance. ¡°Spectre,¡± he called me. Spectre was what the Figments¡ªthe collective term I had for them¡ªcalled me. He was wearing a worn-out jacket over a blue v-neck, checkered shorts, and flip-flops that had x-shaped straps, footwear usually worn by old people in the Philippines. He looked like he had worn them all his life.


    I gave him a nod. ¡°Archon¡­¡± I was going to speak more, but then the world trembled.


    ***

 Chapter 1.1

    a rude awakening


    Lee.


    And I woke up.


    The pickup truck shook sidewards as it rounded a blind curve. I was lying at the back, so I was nearly crushed when one of the crates slammed me into another. What was inside these boxes, anyway? I pushed the box away, putting a bit of space for me to take a stand and get up on a crate to sit on. The sky was a vast purple with hazy smudges of grey clouds lazing along and far-flung stars flickering like fireflies. Lining the road were a series of small crystalline tetrahedrons that floated high above and gave off silvery-blue light, bathing the highway in a soft glow.


    ¡°You okay, Xavier?¡± shouted Old Harold, his head peeking out of the passenger side, red and gray hair dancing violently with the wind and a hand cupping the side of his mouth to better help direct his voice, eyes squinting from the glare of a nearby light-crystal. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I replied, and he sunk back inside. I heard Lola Leona¡¯s voice, muffled somewhat by the rushing wind, no doubt scolding her husband on the proper etiquette of riding a moving car under the night sky.


    This twisty leg of the route was sandwiched between a series of limestone cliffs, deep ravines and large hills. I was told that in the ravines were small tracts of farmland surrounded by coconut trees and sparsely dotting the hills and the cliffs were small, wooden houses with thatched roofs, but being that only the roads had lighting, it was hard to confirm whether any of that was true. I was also told that housing here has been like this since even before the Anabasis. I wondered if back then, the entirety of contemporary Filipino architecture was just wooden huts and similar designs¡ªa harrowing thought. Although now, if you look up, you would see two black, semi-transparent orbs spaced a significant distance from each other, which were precisely Connection Spheres, the objects that brought the Internet and electricity, replacing cables and towers and whatnot.


    Behind our truck was a larger truck. You know the kind that hauled shipping containers¡ªmore than a shitload what an ancient Chevrolet like ours could carry¡ªand behind the larger truck were more trucks and some cars. This ¡®caravan¡¯ was en route to the northern countryside (which Typhoon Felion passed through about a week ago), delivering some much needed goods because the typhoon had demolished most of the towns there, leaving a quarter of a million people homeless and fighting with each other over what remaining resources there were. Adding to the insanity is that the mana-density in these parts is extremely low¡ªso low in fact that at best, you could only puff up a quick fire before it goes poof which was odd, considering that northern Cebu is one of the most mana-rich, resource-abundant areas in the country.


    Then again, I¡¯m more of a craftsman, an alchemist, an artificer, an artist, a maker, a creator and several other words that mean tangentially the same to those that were mentioned. So, I¡¯m not much bothered by the lacking mana-flow, I do things with my hands and my tools. At the very least, the Internet connection here was still okay, a bit slower, but still okay.


    We had now passed through the snake-road, and we were now between cliffs of darker stone and greater vegetation, and larger houses that had concrete walls and metal roofs. I took a look at my phone and learned that this was barangay Tikang of Santiago, a young town of only thirteen years¡ªI¡¯m older by a year¡­ which was weird. Most of the structures were spaced half-a-house apart, making way for nature to grow uninhibited in several of the areas.


    The car slowed down, took a short turn, eventually settling into a halt in a gravel lot¡ªpresumably a parking lot, if the other cars were any indicator¡ªbeside a wooden structure which I assumed to be a local eatery. I jumped off the crate, landing beside the truck. I looked at the road and saw the rest of the ¡®caravan¡¯ passing by¡­ looks like we were the only ones not in a hurry. Old Harold came out of the car first, followed by small Lola Leona.


    ¡°Are we eating?¡± I asked the most obvious predicament.


    Lola Leona nodded, brushing graying hair behind an ear. She was wearing a dark blue, three-button, skirt suit and a pair of¡ªI might say uncomfortable¡ªblack heels. Draped on her shoulders was an elbow-length, red, velvet cloak fastened by a clasp made in the shape of the Mages¡¯ Alliance for Greater Interests, or MAGI as they were called by the masses. It was a stark contrast to portly Old Harold, who was wearing a white, dirt-stained shirt, equally dirty slacks and a pair of slippers. Both of them were retired members of MAGI, still pretty high-ranking as far as the general populace is concerned.


    The restaurant had a floor of cement, uncolored, untiled¡ªa bit slapdashed¡ªwith wooden tables and chairs arranged around a central, concrete pillar that had a non-electric water dispenser, a sink and beside it, a small table with upside-down glasses on a tray. The aroma of deliciously cooked meat wafted in with the help of a set of ceiling fans from the open kitchen that could be seen outside at the back of the restaurant.


    We took seats near the entrance¡ªthe only table that was free as the restaurant was somewhat full¡ªwith me sitting across Old Harold, close to the door while Lola Leona took our orders.


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    ¡°Yanno why we''re stoppin ere?¡± Old Harold asked suddenly while I was staring at a young girl staring at me, older than me, manning the counter¡ª¡°MAGI¡¯s got a hit ere,¡±¡ªit was hard trying to maintain a staring contest from across the room while also listening, but I did my best¡ª¡°rumors ¡®bout Ordo Draconum lookin fer dragons and scamperin about.¡±¡ªshe was dressed, weirdly. Or at the very least, she was much updated with the current fashion trends: a single streak of hair dyed with neon colors¡ªhers was a sky blue; a dark grey, band-collared shirt that was loose at the bottom but tightened around the chest area and a pair of loose jeans and leather loafers, a slight difference to my large, hand-me-down shirt, checkered shorts and a chewed-up pair of flip-flops.


    My eyes went wider and I broke my gaze from the girl first, destroying the budding connection that we were making¡ªor at least, destroying the delusions of sad fourteen-year old me, but on to pressing matters: ¡°Ordo Draconum?¡± That only meant one thing¡ªDragons. My heart now focused on that terrifying thought was beating faster. The Ordo had been making headlines all across the world, its members inciting the awakening of several dragons, and when dragons woke up, you know that something bad was going to happen. Memories of blackened soil from miles around, the acrid stench of burnt life, smoldering ruins and smoked skies resurfaced in my mind, before a gruff voice snapped me back into activity.


    ¡°Aye,¡± grunted Old Harold. His eyes darting from side-to-side and up-and-down, keeping an eye out for any eavesdroppers. ¡°Not solid evidence though, but darn close. The Simulacrum¡¯s pretty sure that it¡¯s Draconum but the Clypeum ain¡¯t buyin it.¡± The Simulacrum and the Clypeum were both Sects of MAGI, respectively its Espionage and Security divisions.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing Lola Leona does?¡± He nodded. Old Harold wouldn¡¯t be coming here if she didn¡¯t. ¡°Are there any dragons here? Aren¡¯t dragons supposed to be¡­ not here?¡± I tried to be stoic, but my voice cracked at the end.


    Fortunately, or not, Old Harold didn¡¯t notice because he let out a chuckle, a very hearty one at that. ¡°Dragons can awake from anywhere, child. They are beasts of nature¡­ even this town can be a dragon!¡± he said, ¡°provided that you poured in obscene amounts of mana to the place. I¡¯ve fought with a dragon only once, and it didn¡¯t end well for me or for me companions.¡± He sounded a bit remorseful.


    Lola Leona had arrived, placing a tray with three plates between Old Harold and me. It looked to be that lunch was pork adobo, steamed corn-on-a-cob and, of course, rice. ¡°Harold, dear,¡± said Lola Leona. ¡°You go and wash your hands.¡± She gestured to the sink at the central pillar, and a grumbling bearded man stood up and walked away.


    ¡°What did you two talk about?¡± Lola Leona asked as she took a seat beside Old Harold¡¯s, and started eating.


    ¡°Why we¡¯re here.¡± I dug in.


    Lola Leona locked eyes with mine briefly, and then sighed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry that my husband is an insensitive man¡­¡± I smiled at that. Both of them new what had happened to me. ¡°He never thinks of what he¡¯s going to speak, probably why most of the Simulacrum hates him.¡± She laughed and gave me a smile. ¡°What do you think about going abroad?¡± It was then that Old Harold came back from washing his hand.


    I stopped eating and looked at her. ¡°What?¡± I almost spat out my food.


    ¡°We were thinking of moving to Italia¡­¡± she said.


    Isn¡¯t Italia in Europe? I wanted to ask but refrained. ¡°W-why? Isn¡¯t going to Europe, a bit dangerous this time of year, or any year afterwards?¡± I had seen from the net that the situation near the Sovereign Bastion, a magical structure that walled off most of the Arctic Ocean and a good chunk of Old Canada, was getting rather tumultuous, to say the least: more and more rogue akhray¡ªangels as we called them¡ªincursions were happening. In the countries around the Bastion, some of the people¡ªhumans¡ªtook to the streets, rioting, and pushing for the expulsion of the ahkrayii and the solvarac¡ªdemons as we called them¡ªfrom ¡®human¡¯ lands, while the most xenophobic of the lot argued for their total execution, complaining about the two-hundred year old London Accord.


    Old Harold scratched his head. ¡°There¡¯s no easy way to go ¡®bout this,¡± he said. ¡°But MAGI is gatherin¡¯ every able-bodied mage they can¡­¡± He leaned on his chair with his arms crossed, and let out a huff. ¡°They likely think a war¡¯s a¡¯comin. And with the general state of affairs, who can blame them?¡±


    ¡°What about the twins? Surely, you¡¯re not going to bring them to a probable warzone?¡±


    Lola Leona waved a hand as if dispelling the thought. ¡°They¡¯ve already started living in the Scholomance dorms under the guidance of some acquaintances, of course,¡± she answered. ¡°I want you to come with us, Xavier¡­ or if you like, we¡¯ll send you to Scholomance as well. And before you say that they won¡¯t accept you because of your¡­ physique: you¡¯ll be there as an apprentice in Arcanology¡ªwouldn¡¯t you like that? Of course, only if you don¡¯t want to come with us.¡±


    Was there any need for thinking? Of course not! ¡°I¡¯m going with. School¡¯s not really for me.¡±


    Lola Leona and Old Harold both looked happy as they took turns ruffling my hair.


    And then...


    ***

 Chapter 1.2

    in blood


    Lee.


    Then the world shook and my body froze, my skin felt like it was crawling, tightening as alarms rang all over my head and then, a great, deafening roar erupted from up above. ¡°Dragon!¡± shouted Old Harold, sending everyone into a panic with people pushing each other out of their way, trying to make it outside¡ªa futile attempt: dragons were destroyers and they would not leave a pebble un-singed. It seemed that Old Harold still remembered what dragon-roars sounded, although they are notoriously unforgettable... and another roar sounded, followed by another¡­ three dragons, as if one wasn¡¯t hard enough.


    I couldn¡¯t move, fear had taken over, I was too afraid¡ªI knew what would happen next, I was all too familiar with it. Lola Leona was now standing together with Old Harold. They were making complex movements with their hands when the ceiling caved in from the force of a giant ball of dragon-fire¡ªit was like an EMP for magical creatures, it stopped them from using magic¡ªand everyone and everything was set ablaze, igniting the mana in everyone and all around. I could only watch them flail their arms, running aimlessly, burning within and burning without¡­ I was Null, the only one alive if no-one else could attest. Dragon-fire was still magic, and magic had no effect on me. It was as if my body devoured magic. But the dragon-fire was still sufficient to have blown me away across the road, slamming me into a block of concrete that might have once supported a house. I looked around at the town and saw some artist¡¯s representation of hell come to life.


    I looked back at the restaurant burning, and then collapsing in on itself. Only I was left, kneeling amidst the destruction and the bones, clothes tattered and burnt. I felt faint heat welling up inside me, but it vanished after a while. Dragon-fire was still scattered all around in little white flames, ethereally burning, churning the ground into a muddy slush of ash and soil and rock.


    Overhead, I could see dragons¡ªmore than the initial three that I had counted¡ªcircling, then breaking formation and flying off to different directions, one was coming right towards me. I gingerly prodded my face with my hand and felt blood.


    I slowly stood up as the red-scaled dragon landed on all fours. Its wings spread wide¡ªwider than the restaurant that was just destroyed¡ªand it roared. ¡°What trickery is this human? I smell not the stench of your foul magicks about you¡­¡± it said, its voice guttural and harsh, an indication that this was a dragon born from a small volcano, judging from its length of fifteen meters.


    ¡°Grant me your name and I will answer,¡± I demanded. Dragons were pretty much like anyone, they had their own values, and honor and curiosity were common ones. Luckily, the dragon-fire didn¡¯t burn my clothes too much and I still had some of my weapons. I was told in a dream that Nulls were regarded as heroes back when the Anabasis came¡ªthey were the only natural predators of dragons, their lack of Magic was their ace against them.


    The dragon stood up on its hind legs, crimson eyes locked on my figure. And just like the unhurried flow of magma, it spoke, ¡°Taal.¡± It was odd that a dragon from Luzon made its way down here in Cebu, but the thought was only fleeting. ¡°Now answer my question¡­¡± It glared at me, huffs of smoke coming out of its mouth like a fleshy, scaled, omnicidal steam train.


    I paused for a bit, thinking of some way out. ¡°I am Null¡­¡± I said with imaginary confidence. I can¡¯t fight a dragon! It was foolhardy that I even compared myself to dragonslayers. I could throw a knife at it, but I highly doubt it would do anything, other than as a slight annoyance, thus making him far angrier¡ªminor stuff does that to most people.


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    Taal visibly flinched and looked at me with a new light. It then started moving sidewards, its obsidian claws scraping the charred, concrete causing a magical spark and wreathing its talons with magical fire. Numerous thin spines flickered up, trailing down its serpentine neck in one line, vibrating like oddly shaped maracas. ¡°You speak in lies, human¡­¡± Its tail whipped dangerously to the right, nearly breaking a pile of still-magically burning rubble. ¡°The unshayhum, greatest of the Old Wyrms, with the help of the unshavhithh have slaughtered every one of the vile valyinum! They no longer walk this great Earth¡­¡±


    ¡°If you have some other theory to explain what I am, I¡¯d be obliged to listen,¡± I said. Where did this false bravado come from, I wonder? But I always knew it would lead to my death¡ªsome prematurely fired quip or a witty, but too honest, remark, perhaps maybe even a poorly delivered or poorly constructed joke¡­ such endless possibilities to have thought of, and now my death, untimely or not.


    ¡°Face death, human!¡± The dragon stood up on its hind legs, wings spread to the limit, and craned its neck backwards. Faint lines of agitated mana were running up its neck as a ball of mana formed inside its open mouth, and it fired. A large sphere of blue flame flew its way towards me, distorting the air around it. I felt relaxed even though a fireball was coming straight at me. I felt that I had accepted my death, before I remembered that I was Null¡ªdragon-fire this weak had no effect¡ªand I was left standing a step back, unscathed, and again¡­ I felt warm.


    Taal stood back on its four legs. No longer was smoke trickling out of its maw. ¡°Impossible¡­¡± it said, then the dragon leapt forward, its lumbering size belying its agility, its claws burning with ethereal fire, its leathery wings beating, and then it flew up and grabbed me with a clawed hand. ¡°The unshavhithh shall see to your demise¡­¡± I dug my nails on the dragon¡¯s hand, attempting to break free, but it did not care.


    We were now high up above over the ravines that snaked their way through the mountains when it tightened its grip, trying to squeeze out the consciousness off me. My mind was slowly shutting down now and I was seeing fragments of the dream-space, my eyes were getting heavier. ¡°Do not die yet, Spectre¡­¡± I heard a voice say. I jolted myself awake and I saw that my skin was now glowing, my veins seeming to burst with something primal. I took a breath through clenched teeth and felt fire flooding inside me, then with great difficulty, I took out a stiletto and, unbeknownst to me when, was engraved with some sigils that flickered into activity under the light of the Moon.


    With tremendous effort, I drove the blade into its skin, and to my surprise, it bled. ¡°Dagaithish!¡± screamed the dragon, Taal. I stabbed it again, before it could create a more violent reaction. My chest and abdomen were now drenched with the luminescent, also translucent, blood of the dragon, some of it made its way on my lips and, curious, I tasted it. It tasted sweet and I felt invigorated for some reason, like a deep power was going to rush out and overcome every obstacle I faced. Light erupted from my body, a small explosion blew the dragon''s arm off and I was thrown down.


    Together, boy and dragon spiraled downwards to a ravine.


    ***

 Chapter 1.3

    a boy and a dragon


    Lee.


    I was in the dream-space. Whatever was happening to me in the outside world, I felt somewhat giddy. Who should I see today? The Old King on his throne, unmoving, unchanging, his deep, black eyes staring at the horizon and whispering knowledge of long ago? Should I go to the Stormy Hills, where Silverhaired dreams and listen as her breath comes in and comes out? Spar with morose Gregory, his broken wings hidden under his cloak? Talk politics with the Presidential Mother over her cookies?


    But, alas! My humble forest shivered and I was taken to another realm in the dream-space, more precisely, just outside the Temple¡ªactually a Nihonjin shrine situated on the foothold of blue-green hills and flanked by two ever-blooming cherry trees perpetually carpeting the place with a blanket of pink.


    Tendrils of mist came out of the Temple, gathering at the front and forming into the shape of a person: a young, Nihonjin girl dressed similarly to a Shinto priestess, with jet-black hair flowing down her back and snow-white skin that glistened under the starlight. She was called Alfar, because she reminded you of the old stories about elves. And her voice was alluring: ¡°Spectre¡­¡± She looked at me with her big, amber eyes and with a hand covering her mouth. ¡°You startled me,¡± she said, and behind her hair: her long, elven ears twitched. It looked very cute.


    ¡°I just arrived, actually¡­¡± I told her. I took a deep breath and focused on my body. Either I was dead or unconscious. Perhaps, my physical body was under a similarly dead or unconscious dragon. I wanted to know, but I did not want to open my real eyes for fear of never dreaming again. Is it sad that I had a crush on a figment of my imagination?


    Alfar walked down the shrine-steps, a cloud trailing right behind her, but she seemed to have just floated on her own. She then waved a hand and a short-legged table appeared, resting on the petal-covered grass bed. "Would you like some tea?" Two earthenware cups of tea appeared on the table''s surface, clear, greenish liquid inside them both. She then knelt in a seiza, her¡ªI surmised long¡ªlegs beneath her thighs. I wonder what they felt like.


    A teacup floated and moved as if drunk from. "Don''t mind if I do," a voice said from nowhere, until the space above us warped, and landing on the table on his feet was a young man wearing a suit, the teacup in his hand. He had dark, brown skin and slicked, black hair, and on his wide forehead, two black, slender horns stuck out, curving upwards at the tips. If you added a finely trimmed goatee, all that was left was a tail and a pitchfork, and he would be the stereotypical Devil¡ªnot that he would disagree though. "Is lovely tea you got miss Alfar..." He winked a dark-brown eye at the elf-eared girl.


    "Ifreet!" shouted Alfar. "I should gut you where you stand." She was still kneeling in position, but the cloud shifting behind her was now in small chunks having clumped into floating shards of ice that were shivering slightly, seemingly in anger. Her face was red, the beauty mark on the upper side of her left cheek contrasting greatly, and her eyes were closed and she kept taking deep breaths as if willing him to go away.


    Ifreet looked at me, an annoying smirk on his face. "Aha. She looks pissed," he said. "I better hurry off, before she calls up a blizzard on my ass." He laughed and with that the Devil stand-in vanished into smoke, and the teacup landed gently on the table.


    I smiled wrly and sat down by the table across from Alfar, reaching out for the half-drunk teacup and taking a sip. "The man was right though, it is deliciously lovely." I gave her my most winning-est smile, coaxing out a brief giggle, calming her down. The crystals of frost around her, now melting back into one. "Thank you, Spectre," she said. "But it looks like its time to wake up." And her eyes sparkled like snowflakes glinting off a winter sun. And the world shimmered into non-existence.


    And I opened my ''real'' eyes.


    ***


    I felt the roughness of leaves and branches below me. It seemed that I had landed on a tree. I didn''t see any sign of the dragon, except for the mangled remains of several, felled trees and the scorched earth with said beast sprawled in the middle, its wings draped around it like broken masts with tangled sails. It seemed to me that the dragon threw a fireball on the ground to better soften its landing¡ªhow that works is a mystery to me.


    I tried to get a general feel of my body and was dismayed to find out that a good chunk of my right forearm was ripped off almost down to the bone¡ªperhaps Taal tried to grab me when I fell, accidentally or intentionally, shearing a bit of flesh. My whole body was hurting like hell and my vision was hazy¡ªa misfortune considering it was still night. I climbed down the tree using only my legs and one arm, dropping off surprisingly lightly. I clutched my right arm, the sensation of the bone through thin, mangled muscle making me shiver. I stopped, wiping the blood of my pants. Now, what was I supposed to do, after climbing down the tree? Fight a dragon? If only that were a viable option... I was lucky enough that my wounds weren''t bleeding profusely and I was conscious.


    rumble. then the dragon stirred. Its broken wings opened slowly and with apparent effort, it rose up on its legs with its tail stilled for balance. And when it was stable, Taal roared and I felt its pain and its anger¡ªthere was no way it was going to let me escape if it saw me. Its claws glowed a scorching white and similarly colored lines formed on its arm and legs, trailing upwards like a lit blaze following a lengthy fuse. A pulse of faint dragon-fire exploded outwards with the dragon as its epicenter.


    I brought my arms up, wincing at the pain it gave, as the dragon-fire rushed towards me. And when it met my skin, I felt warm again and the magic vanished, and to my shock, my right arm was covered in some transparent, golden energy and the wound quickly repaired itself,as well as clearing my vision somewhat.


    Then, Taal let out a grumbling noise almost sounding eerily like laughter. "I found you," it said, twisting itself around to get a better look at me, locking fire-red eyes with mine. "And I shall end you, valyinum," it declared. At the very least it made a decision as to what I was. Why''d I have to light up like a Christmas tree?


    I looked around me and saw only trees and mountains under the cover of night. If I ran, I would only be delaying my death, but if I don''t, I''d basically be just handing over myself... there was only one, hopelessly stupid option: to fight. I took out a knife that was sheated on my right leg. It wasn''t an ordinary knife, it had some enchantments done by yours truly, though I find it pointless anyway when confronted with a dragon. Sadly, while I was thinking of ways to not get killed, I almost was as I was thrown a good distance away, whipped by a large tail, landing with my back on the surface of some boulder that just happened to be there. fuck that hurts.


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    Taal laughed. "Is this the might of the fabled valyinum? The dragonslayers of myth?" it roared and I saw that it''s right arm was little more than a stub of burnt flesh, bleeding a bit with glistening dragon-blood. "I should have squashed you when I saw you!" Its broken wings spread, leathery membrane ripped and torn and riddled with holes.


    My knife was gone and my mind was calculating double-time when I saw on the ground, here and there, small and large puddles of shiny dragon-blood. An impulse seized me that I would devour the essence of the blood, whatever that meant. But I wanted to anyway, a primal urge taking hold of my mind. A surge of power welled up inside me. And shockingly to me and the dragon, I became faster and almost in an instant, my left foot was now in the nearest blood-puddle, and I felt its energy crawling up my leg, merging with what unknown power was left and spreading throughout my body. The blood-puddle was nothing more than a blood-puddle. I was now empowered, perhaps I can kill a dragon now, I do not know, but I was itching to try.


    And almost naturally, I threw a fireball towards the dragon out of my mouth. Taal tried to move away but its left wing was struck and it caught on fire. The insides of my mouth and the surface of my tongue were slightly singed, but they healed just as quickly as they were burnt. "Whelp!" the dragon screamed in audible pain. My body was feeling jittery. I jumped up high and threw a fireball, but the dragon tilted its neck away. I dove towards it, driving a fist into its side. The scales grazed my knuckles, tearing a bit of skin off. I leapt quickly, missing its tail-whip by a hair''s breadth.


    Taal breathed a stream of fire at me. I rolled to the side, lightly evading it. I stood up, dusted the dirt off my pants and followed up with another fireball, but this time Taal did not dodge, instead the dragon breathed out a larger, more potent flame now coloured black, completely devouring mine. I was stupid to have even thought this could become easier.


    I flung my arms up to block myself against the oncoming torrent of flame. The fire licked my skin, and I felt it scald and blister, then melting away, next my muscles seemed to burst and boil but they melted away. The mana was too much to be absorbed. I could feel the heat on my bones, literally. And luckily, the fire ended before my bones turned to ash.


    I dropped my arms, letting the sludge of hot, liquid muscle and skin drip to the ground, and the remnants of smoke drift away. That fire clearly exceeded Third-Thier magic. And it hurt as much as it should like molten metal was poured onto your skin. My arms were regenerating but not at the almost instantaneous speed it did a while ago. The true flames of Taal were too much. It had drained much of my strength, and luckily for me, the dragon was equally exhausted as well.


    The dragon was slouching, its relatively good wing drooping beside it. "I would have never believed a human," it started, "would survive the wrath of an unshamahn..." It was now breathing as raggedly as me. "I shall concede to my arrogance, but you will die here by my fury!"


    I had heard in passing (or in dreaming) that dragons possessed the ability to shift into several forms¡ªeach form held the qualities of a particular species that once or still ruled the planet (how that is decided is left for mortal imagination), and so far, I had thought it untrue and ridiculous, I mean, what reason would any dragon have to forgo their natural bodies? Weren''t they the sleeping giants of this world already?


    But, the dragon in front of me, shrank, its wings curling in on it. From its skin, black mist seeped out, covering it like a cocoon of smoke. The cocoon pulsed, expanding and contracting, shaping itself into some humanoid form. And finally, the mist parted.


    What should have been a black dragon was replaced by a statuesque, young woman of alabaster skin but her right arm was missing, only a black patch where arm met shoulder remained. Her eyes were serpent''s eyes of crimson and her hair was the fiery orange of magma, completely visible even in the dimness of night with only a spattering of dragon-fire here and there to reveal her wonder. Her face was sharp, lips black as granite and she was beautiful. And she was naked. Verily so.


    She looked at her fingers, flexing them, turning this way and that. "You humans have such fragile fingers," she said and her voice was edged with displeasure, as if perplexed as to why humanity currently stood at the pinnacle of this world with such fragile fingers. Slowly, she walked towards me, the swaying of her hips like a hypnotist''s pendulum, drawing me in. "You humans have so lecherous eyes." Thin wisps of fire started to surround her, dressing her in a robe of flames that oddly and greatly accentuated her curves.


    I whipped an arm at her direction and a fireball flew out, but it struck an invisible barrier and was destroyed into little sparks. "It seems being human is good for something," she said before abruptly stopping in her tracks and looking at the sky.


    Above us, great amounts of mana were rushing in. I looked at the human-shaped dragon wearing fire, then at a blur and then, an explosion of pain erupted in my chest. "I wonder what that was?" And she appeared, her arm sticking out of my chest, just below the heart. Her voice was sweet up close, though. And her arm felt soft even though it made a hole in my body.


    She flicked her arm, bringing me to the side and throwing me very far away and hitting another large rock. I fell on my side and the hole in my chest knitted itself slowly. I was losing a lot of blood...


    Around me, I heard a faint buzzing that grew larger and larger, and the footsteps of a beautiful dragoness in the form of a human dressed in fire coming closer. I blacked out.


    ***


    ---note---


    sorry for the late update. Life is a bitch.


    and I suck at fight scenes.


    And many thanks for reading!!!

 Chapter 1.4

    waking up with a headache


    Polzin-Wakahisa


    Got up off the bed, feeling groggy and puke-y¡ªa bottle of vodka before sleeping does that to you. I went to my closet, took some clothes (all the same, really: several pairs of shorts, several pairs of boxer-briefs and several t-shirts, printed or otherwise) and laid¡ªthrew¡ªthem on the bed, a jumble of pillows and a blanket. I glanced at the analog clock that hung above the doorway. It was either 5:42 or 5:43, only a small difference between the two.


    I went to the window and pulled open the shutters, letting in the wispy light of the setting Sun, not that I noticed the difference though. It was 5:43pm. And here I thought, I''d gotten up early... but then again, a bottle of vodka before sleeping can do that to you and the fact that I have super night-vision. I got undressed, placed¡ªthrew¡ªthem on the laundry basket and wore the clean ones on the bed. Runes of light flickered from under the carpet, working their magicks to hold my feet in place.


    Hanging on a hook beside the window were packets of chocolate malt. I ripped one open and poured the delicious dust all over a small plate that I keep on the bedside drawer. I flattened the pile and turned on an electric fan to harden the malt powder into more chewable chunks. After a few minutes, the once-fine dust had now melded into something more resembling a lump of rock¡ªa lump of rock that tasted of chocolate.


    I had just slipped on my trusty pair of hatched flip-flops when the alarm went on: a low keening invaded my ears and my eyes were assaulted by color-inverted, Pollock-like imagery, indicating code Ragnarok. I ran to the drawer and took out a pair of unassuming glasses and wore them, I almost forgot to wear them. The colors were right again and I got out of my room, but not before finishing chocolate malt-rock breakfast, running towards the bridge. The hallways were empty (not surprising, considering the time) with runes, cleverly hidden, lining the floor at the middle and branching off into all directions and a line of small diamonds hovering close to the ceiling, giving off light as they swiveled in place. It was oddly quiet, everyone was on the bridge, most possibly.


    The pathway to the bridge was basically a steel catwalk suspended from the ship''s belly and flanked by what I saw as some transparent, glass-like substance. Below me, through the gaps of the grey clouds, large chasms crisscrossed with low, green mountains and thin, grey roads, and somewhere in the middle of all this, was a small village. If I remember correctly, we were flying up above the town of Santiago, a town that was younger than me.


    The bridge was colored bone-white, a row of three terminals and three seats on each side, a platform on the middle that left a third of the floor, unoccupied for an observation deck, presenting a view of the jungle hills and ravines, protected by the same material that led to there and on the ceiling, a chandelier hung, supported by a set of runes and chains. When I got in, I saw that the seats were filled with people focused intently on their screens and on the platform were three more people, standing, staring at the observation deck, where the sky was a vivid purple. I felt that three more were missing, but on a hunch, I knew why¡ªthey were sparring most likely in the hangar.


    "What''s happening?" I asked as I stepped on the low staircase connecting the platform with the floor. "Or did someone press the wrong button?" It wouldn''t be the first time someone did.


    Gilbert looked at me, gave me a brief once-over, before hand-combing his blonde hair back and nodding. He was wearing the NIDHOGG uniform: black coat, black pants, black shoes¡ªhe always wears the NIDHOGG uniform. "We detected a huge spike in atmospheric mana," he said with his German accent, a real accent, not von vere he goes speekingk like zis. "Very fucking huge. Most probably magic somewhere in the Sixth-Tier." Shit. Only means one thing: dragons, or that the Archmage has awoken and he teleported nearby ( the chances of that happening are zero).


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    "So," Octavia started, looking at me, "that''s where you and the others come in, Shura." She always adopted this stern, authoritative poise when an emergency came¡ªmakes it more endearing when she smiles, though, but weird because she''s only eighteen and she looks more responsible than me¡ªand I''m twenty-one!¡ªthough the black dress she had on made her look older, but I''ll just keep that to myself.


    "After we''ve confirmed your drop, we''ll start a jump to lure most of the scales after us, you and the others attempt a Quies, find some survivors and you''ll be good for extraction in about five hours afterwards. Got it?" I nodded to show that I did. It was the same drill: we go down, they lure lizards away, we calm world, we look for people and we go home. We''ve never found any survivors. Octavia just says that to be optimistic.


    Just on the ledge overlooking the observation deck, Balduino stood, also wearing the NIDHOGG uniform. On the floor, where he stood, runes shimmered with activity as if they were transparent wires with electricity running through them. Balduino waved his arms around like a conductor would to an invisible orchestra, and everywhere his hands stopped for a moment, an afterimage of his hand would waver for a moment, before bursting into faint mana.


    I gave the three of them a salute and turned around and walked back where I came from, except I passed by my room and made my way to the other end the hallway, leading to a short stairway to the hangar. The hangar-space was large, reaching to about a height of four-and-a-half meters and wide enough to fit seven SUV''s.  Now that I think about it, how large is the ship, exactly?


    Within a large square painted at the center of the room, two shadows fought, dancing with swift and graceful movements, dizzying lights came out from what seemed like their limbs as they whipped and threw them about, and outside the square, a larger figure stood, arms crossed and looking at them with the gaze of a falcon perched and examining its prey.


    I approached them, careful not to make a sound as it seemed as they hadn''t noticed me yet. When I was just a few feet away, I shouted, my voice echoing throughout the hangar and immediately, they took a combat stance, facing me. "You guys, ready?" I asked with a grin. They were all wearing the NIDHOGG field uniform: black, combat suits emblazoned on the shoulder was a spray-can rendering of Yggdrasil and the eponymous dragon underneath it.


    "You''re an asshole, Shura." Horus stood down first. He was skinny for his age, but quick and good with explosives and alchemy, though this days those two are almost one and the same. "I almost got Mary, yanno?" He scratched his bald head.


    I looked at Mary, her face suggesting otherwise and ''not even close''. She was the resident sniper and hand-to-hand combat expert. She brushed dark locks behind her hair and relaxed. "I''m ready, sir." She was very rigid. I think I''ve never heard her say my name before.


    "You ready, Carson?" I looked at him and he nodded. He was a bear of a boy¡ªbarely in his teens, but almost as tall as me, and I''m really tall, and never speaks excessively and a great magician, too. "Okay, let''s get started."


    I gathered most of my mana on the tips of my fingers, and when they glowed an eerie purple, and with them, I stroked a large diagonal line in the air in front of me, creating a large enough tear in the fabric of space and time for us to pass through¡ªinstant teleportation.


    And we stepped inside.


    ***

 Chapter 1.5

    eyes on fire


    Polzin-Wakahisa.


    We got out of the rift. Carson and Mary keeled over a bit, puking like broken fire hydrants. They''ve never really got used to the space-time jumping. "You guys rest for a bit," I told them and they sat on the ground, away from their expelled dinner-puddle, on crossed legs, trying to relax for a moment while Horus rummaged through his pack.


    I left them to their bearings, and I gazed at the landscape. Watching from above in the Malice-striker, you would be deluded into thinking everything was okay. But when you''re actually out in the forefront, you got to know how ridiculously wrong you were. The smell of dead things was so strong; it tickled my nostrils into a frenzy of contractions, and the feel of mana was so thin that I could see some colors clearly: the sky had darkened from its generally lovely blue to a somewhat insidious purple and the many stars were slowly waking up, billions of fireflies flickering into activity. On the horizon, where the town of Santiago once stood, only a plume of smoke mingling with the creeping night could be seen.


    "The dragons have made short work of the town," said Horus standing on my right, "How many people died, do you think?" He was always the one who asked that¡ªtoo empathic, this kid was.


    "Everyone." Which is always the correct answer. "Activate your helms, mana-density: dangerously low." I didn''t need a helmet, because of my uniquely attuned physique. "Mary, I want you to notify Gilbert that we''ve confirmed our drop with no complications." She then pressed a button on her wrist and paced slightly away.


    I looked down and I was wearing shorts. Apparently, no-one cared what I wore anymore. But because, I was now feeling self-conscious, I spread all of my mana evenly around my body and conjuring for myself, a NIDHOGG uniform, except for the boots. I preferred flip-flops. From the corner of my eye, I saw Carson looking at me with awed eyes. Most magi, I meet, are baffled by my unique magic¡ªthey''ll be really thrilled when they know where I got it from, or I''ll be tied to wooden post and burned alive.


    When I conjure something up, it is not that I make something out of nothing nor do I transmute the atoms into other atoms, simply put: it''s just teleportation on a much smaller scale and with the use of some tracking runes on the things I want conjured up. Maybe I should test summoning a bottle of vodka next... I should really stop drinking; only perpetuates the stereotype that everyone in the Dominion drinks¡ªwhich is true¡ªbut still... stereotypes hurt.


    "I am always in awe of your magic. You really must tell me how you do it." Carson appeared from my left with a helmet reminiscent of old, fighter pilots'' covering his whole head. "Should we check on the town?" he asked. "I mean... there''s no harm in doing it."


    There wasn''t any physical harm in doing it, yes. But it is a big blow on morale to see only ash and smoke, so I shook my head. "Prepare for the Quies." You see, what happens when dragons attack is that their very presence distorts the mana-layers of a place that is far-removed from their own, transforming unconsciously the land into something more preferable for them: storm dragons bring cyclones, volcanic dragons open faults, plague dragons bring disease, etchetera, etchetera. That''s not even adding the fact that they have their own kind of magic to fuck shit up.


    And what we, of the Einherjar Team, do is to ''calm'' down the places that non-compatible dragons have disrupted with their presence, reverting the anomalies back into their more ordered, natural states, and maybe find some survivors ¡ªwhich is what Mary and Horus''s jobs are, but because of the near-impossibility of that happening, I just let them scout and look at Carson doing his thing, so at the same moment, they can learn magic, even though they''re Ords.


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    I turned around. "Mary."


    "Yes, sir?" She walked close, looking very serious¡ªtoo serious for someone still eighteen.


    "Got your sniper, right?" I asked.


    She tapped the thing strapped to her back. "Yes, sir."


    "You and Horus, take a closer look at the town. But don''t go inside its bounds, I repeat: only look from afar. Got it?" She nodded, gave me a salute and went away, presumably taking Horus as she did.


    Above, I felt the faint rippling of mana and the movements of several anomalies warping the mana-topography and their vanishing after. It seemed that the Malice-striker had finished luring away most of the dragons¡ªmost, because I could still feel less-pronounced spikes in the general mana-density of the place. I just hoped that Horus doesn''t go blowing things up and attracting unneeded attention.


    "Carson, better hurry up on the preparations." He had laid down four poles spaced evenly apart, forming the points of a diamond. Each pole was engraved with circles and lines all around that glowed a dim yellow, a resounding calmness resonating within them. "Almost done," he replied.


    Out of the blue, I felt a surge of power, not unlike a dragon¡¯s but more familiar, more human. It was like the sensation you feel after the creation of a mana-core. But I knew this was something else for I had experienced it before, though the energy was weaker from what I once felt and knew. Then, I felt the mana of a dragon burst, then calm. I looked towards the horizon, where a ravine started; I shifted my eyes to my left, looking to see if that was where I could find a fellow Null duking it out with a dragon.


    "Did you feel that, Shura?" Carson asked as he placed the finishing touches of the Quies ritual on the arcane matrix.


    "Yes." I turned to look at him. "I¡¯m going down the ravine, to find out what exactly that was."


    "Are you mad? It¡¯s obviously a dragon!" He stood up, his hands waving around frantically. "Are you looking to get yourself killed? It¡¯s a dragon, sir!" Wow, clearly, Carson definitely doesn''t have faith in my powers, though he doesn''t know of them.


    "Have you ever seen my eyes?" I asked.


    Behind the glass of his helmet, his eyes flittered up and about, then he made a fake cough. "T-That''s, um, weird. Why should I care about that?" He found my eyes, then fake-coughed again. "But to answer y-your question, no."


    I smiled¡ªI like surprising people¡ªthen, I took my glasses off, surprising him into opening his eyes wider. "Carson, do you know why they call mChudotvortsem back in the Dominion?" I really liked that name; being called that, makes me sound like some saint.


    He narrowed his eyes. "I d-don''t even know what that means, but no, I don''t know why they call you that." He kept looking at my eyes, though I don''t blame him; it''s not every day that you see a man with literally burning eyes.


    "I''ll show you why," I turned around, then looked back at him, "but contact Horus and Mary first, and tell them to come back, immediately, to guard the Quies matrix. Don''t worry about it, though they''re both Ords, they''ve enough magic to maintain the thing."


    So, we jumped down the ravine. A cocoon of mana enveloping the both of us. It would help in smoothing out the bumps of our fall, gently placing us on the charred ground; under my feet, tiny cracks sounded.


    "Shura this is insane. Even ten exarchs can''t beat a dragon without having half of them die!" And he was right, exarchs have as much chance as children in defeating a dragon, but exarchs and children are not me.


    I merely grinned, and whatever I looked like grinning with my glasses off, shut him up. "Don''t worry, Carson. Don''t worry."


    And beyond us, a dragon''s roar exploded, and I conjured up my dragonslayer cosplay.


    ***