by SlyOkami
Garn only felt empty, as Pyra now stood over him shining like a molten sun.
Reminding him of just how old he had grown, and why he had retired.
Reminding him also, of one he had once slain.
The same face, the same power.
The same unbreakable expression.
“You…You’re dead?” Garn coughed out, “Myratha?” He asked with wide fearful eyes.
As Pyra’s eyes then widened fully, at the sound of her mother’s name.
“No, old fool.” She replied in common, “I’m her revenant.” Pyra said, as golden light engulfed her foot which stomped down into the old soldier’s chest.
Caving in his armour, flesh and bone, Pyra crushed the life out of Garn.
Glancing away from the lifeless general then, at the silent horde of beasts around her, as their petrified gazes met hers.
As she pulled her gore-splattered leg out of their leader’s body, silent the moment was not as all around them battle raged.
Pyra raised her right arm up then, her gauntlet shining like a beacon of light, as she snapped her fingers.
“Xilfir, Tortuga, Reform!” She commanded, snapping the beasts out of their daze, yet not quickly enough as the sound of metal cleaving through flesh then took over.
As the Xilfir Knights pushed through the crazed horde, creating an opening she calmly walked into, into their new formation.
As the Xilfir Knights now stood in a large circle all around their mages, spears thrown aside and replaced with longswords, they retained their shields as those lay steadfast and dug into the ground.
Pyra stopped as she reached the opening, glancing at all beasts around her faltering to approach, albeit they stormed the rest of her formation with great ferocity. As her formation of nine lines of Xilfir Knights held, still she knew this wouldn’t be enough.
Their leader dead, only the moral of the little around her had fallen, still the Zrosians outnumbered them by too much.
“W-What are we standing around for!? As our brothers and sisters die for country, let’s kill this bitch and regain honour for our fallen!” As the Zrosian officers shouted encouragement, refuelling the horde.
Pyra glanced up at the storm above, as the formation closed up behind her.
Hearing the continued clashing of blades and claws, vaguely she made out the citadel now.
As the surrounding clouds grew in number, as the magic in the air grew…
As the storm, now suddenly blacked out the sky.
Pyra for the first time, now understood how Erik was setting the stage, having rushed into battle without needing to know. Her loyalty coming first far beyond her own life, she trusted Erik with the lives of her people too.
As thunder roared out.
As lightning crackled through the dark sky.
In unison, they descended down.
Spirals of black winds followed down the guardian serpent of storm’s many forms; Xeyl descended down from the sky, forming cyclones of wind magic in her fall.
Merciless, the wind elemental crashed down upon the horde, shredding all in her path before rising back up into the storm above.
Leaving them behind and surrounded by staggered, confused and out-right terrified foes.
Each cyclone had landed an entire platoon of Dragon Knights amongst the Zrosian horde, and as the empowered killers rose to their feet, magical weapons in hand.
A murderous aura filled their surroundings, as the butchers then went to work.
Unstoppable before these mere foot-soldiers caught off-guard and flanked, they immediately became the horde’s new focus.
As rain, then fell.
As blood now covered the grasslands, and flesh, and bone, bodies riddled the ground and were stomped upon as many fought, or just ran.
Nobody foreseeing what came next.
As the army of Xilfir Knights, and plattons of Dragon Knights, lay surrounded one and all.
It was all according to Erik’s plan, for he cared not that they were surrounded…
Only, that the enemy was gathered and their focus elsewhere.
As once more they came from the sky, their wing beats announcing their descent.
Flocks of wyverns pierced the blackened heavens, ferocity in their eyes, as flames, frost, acid and lightning bellowed out with their roars. Each had a formation, five in total and each flock following a singular one of their own.
As each Black Dragon rode the Wyvern at the lead, diving down and leading the way for each formation of monstrosities, what followed was a rain of death.
The five formations of winged beasts followed the path of massacre created for them below, swerving around the circular blobs of allies they only needed to burn everything else around.
And burn, freeze, melt and electrocute…they did.
Numbers, mattered no longer.
As the Xilfir Knights created the exact opposite of a kill box for the Wyverns, like shepherds the knights herded the Zrosians around them.
And similarly, the spell-blade Dragon Knights, created a path for the formations of Wyverns to follow around the central circle.
An unending rain of hell from above, a continuous barrage of assured death as the Dragons merely needed to be there to be followed. Leading the flocks of Wyverns around the paths, none ever got in another flocks’ way, yet no Wyvern stood still enough to be shot down.
Perfectly executed, already, had the Zrosians of Keye lost.
As under Erik’s command, the building storm was seized by his guardians and used as cover.
As under Erik’s command, Pyra took the stage and spotlight, gathering the enemy around her.
As under Erik’s command, Zentha’s pin-point accuracy alongside Xeyl’s wind magic, sent down the Dragon Knights to shape the enemy army however they wished.
And under Erik’s command, five Black Dragons at the lead of an army of Wyverns, commenced Keye’s fall.
And fall, Keye had.
B2; Chaos - Ch 60; Pieces - Part 2; Fall
The Next Day
Noon
Grasslands between Keye and Abyele
* * *
Erik breathed in the cold breeze as it swept past his form, as the blades of grass swung all around him.
As the sun shined down from high above, its light lightning up his every direction, even the Dark Citadel as it hovered above.
All but himself, as he stood beneath the ever-flowing storm that was his wind elemental.
Darkness surrounded him, just as he felt the same fill him, mind and soul Erik felt the darkness loom within.
“Our foe approaches,” Xeyl whispered with the breeze and into Erik’s ears.
As the elemental, and its other three brethren formed behind their master.
“Then the time has come,” Erik mused, “Lower it.” He said nonchalantly, as high above the citadel began to move.
Riding the storm, it hovered back and away from Erik, then slowly began to fall.
“Dejal, Fierv. Give it a nice landing,” He told the other two, as the elemental of flame and the one of earth turned to face the descending city.
As their magic flowed into the ground, quaking it flat and burning it clear.
Creating the perfect terrain, as the storm clouds parted, gently setting the Dark Citadel down onto the ground.
Erik turned around, gazing upon its greatness for a long silent moment.
His creation, “Quite the mark you leave, master.” Voltru mused as its form shuddered with energy, the clouds then completely dissipating from sight.
“I’m not done yet,” Erik replied, “I’ve only begun to leaving my mark.” He said before returning to face the wide-open grass lands ahead.
“It has been short, but you’ve been more than useful Xeyl.” He told the wind elemental, “Fierv, Voltru, even in my past life you were both of immense use as well.” He told the other two, before his gaze fell to the last as all four now kneeled.
“Dejal, my dear old friend, you I thank the
most. Eons spent protecting my liar, without barely a hint of spite on my return. Thank you, each of you, for everything.” Erik said, his expression remaining blank as he continued to speak.
“Master?” Dejal said in a questioning tone, confused albeit having no features to physically show such.
“For this day I will need my full strength, as such…” Taking in another deep breath, Erik raised his right hand up. “Guardians, Dejal, Fierv, Voltru, Xeyl…I release you.” He chanted before snapping his fingers, a sound which echoed through each elemental’s very being.
As each of their forms then shuddered, as the ground and air around them quaked.
As their true forms were briefly revealed, for the giants that they were, each standing almost as tall as the Citadel itself.
The four goliaths kneeled, a mountain, a storm, a blizzard and an eruption each kneeled before Erikathyr.
As each dissipated out of this physical realm, returning back to the spirit realm.
Erik continued to chant, “Draconic School; House Hold Subschool; Lair;…” taking a deep dreading breath.
“Unclaim.”, Erik ended his chant.
Stumbling back then, Erik clenched his chest, as black veins grew to riddle his body.
As all the power, all the mana that was sealed away to control and own this fragment of space he called his Lair…returned to him.
Erik shuddered, yet smiled.
Although the pain was unignorable, the power which coursed through his body was something he hadn’t ever felt.
He was a Lairless Dragon now, what his people regarded as a feral beast.
And feral Erik felt, as the sound of marching feet finally reached his ears.
As over the horizon of rushing grass, a line of grey began to rise.
“Finally…” He mused, “Finally…” He growled, turning then to gaze elsewhere as more sound joined the already quaking melody of drumming and stomping metal boots.
As an armada of Zrosian grey armoured soldiers rose to his east, a line of blue rose to his north.
Azure armour, black and blue capes alongside tall emerald-green great-swords held high. The Elven armies of New Druv too approached.
“Finally!” Erik bellowed for all to hear, his voice overtaking all as it filled the grasslands.
As he glanced to his west, as there too rose another colour, another line over the horizon, another foe.
Hellbent on surrounding him, the Dwarven armies of Seeri came from the west. Just barely visible beyond and behind the citadel.
Three kingdoms marched towards him, three people joined against him.
“Ohh, how reminiscent is this of old times passed.” Erik mused in draconic, as his blackened wings spread wide open.
As with a single, albeit struggling wing-beat, he rose into the sky.
His wings shook as he hovered, particles of dark energy flowing out of his form and falling down.
Erik smiled widely, as within minutes the armies now surrounded him, as their chosen ‘heroes’ stepped forth from the masses.
Out of the last remaining Zrosian army, stepped out Hanae herself, Empress and Elder Beast of the Zrosian wilds she moved forth with her retinue of powerful beasts. Her expression seemingly calm, yet twitching, as pure rage filled her boiling heart.
As then out of the Elven army, stepped out seven more, their features amusing Erik to no end.
Behind them stood an army of Wood Elves, Snow Elves, Night Elves and High Elves, yet out of the seven only one was indeed not a High Elf. Reminding Erik that, some things just did not change.
Glancing then to the dwarves, twelve stepped forth this time, gnarled expressions and awfully unkept beards within suits of armour of the highest quality of both make and enchantment, each wielding weapons which radiation raw power.
Erik opened his arms wide, “And so, history repeats itself.” He exclaimed out loud.
“Indeed, vile beast, as I only see yourself and a mountain of stone behind you.” Mused one High Elf, four arrows already knocked upon his crystalline bow, yet take aim he did not.
Not yet…
“The great Erikathyr, destroyer, devourer, conqueror. Stands before his joint enemies, alone. Truly, you must jest.” Hanae growled, “Enough with the tricks, enough with the ploys. You can hide your filthy rats beneath your shadow, but once you have fallen nothing will save them then!” The Zrosian Empress exclaimed.
Her eyes burning, literally a bright crimson, as she met the Dragon’s dark gaze. “Look around you, Dragon, the entire world has come to see you fall…for second time. And for a second time, you stand without ally or friend or family. Surrender, and may we have mercy upon your dreaded soul.” Hanae spoke with a commanding tone.
As Erik’s eyes narrowed, as his smile faltered.
“Surrender?” He mused in Zrosian, “After all this? After how far I’ve come?”
“And same as before, you will fail, you will fall, you will be slain!” A Dwarven lord announced, slamming the end of his massive flail upon the ground, sending many another dwarf stumbling from the ensuing quake.
“Hah…Fail…Fall…Slain?” Erik repeated in dwarven, as his gaze fell.
“Indeed, all that lays behind me is a mountain.” He then spoke in Elven, “And this city, shall stand forevermore, marking how far I’ve come. Marking, through its foundation of blood and gore, through its structure of hard work and raw power…This Dark Citadel, shall mark the immortality of my children and theirs. This Dark Citadel, shall stand for as long as this world shall, for I name it now. Draconia, that it never falls.” He announced, as very slowly he began to descend back down.
“But vile beast?” He returned to draconic, half way down to the ground. “Vile, I might be, but beyond beast this being that is me was born. Now beyond dragon as well.”
As beneath his breath, he chanted.
“Light, which I earned. Brightness, which makes me whole.” A whisper it was, yet it filled the ears of all, his words blowing through the fields of grass like a frigid breeze.
As the champions of each side, suddenly rushed to cease his words.
Elven royals, Dwarven lords and an Elder Beast, each charged the chanting Dragon.
Their weapons flashing into action faster than the flowing wind, as Erik continued his chant. “The white of my scales, gold of my eyes…Now black of scale, now crimson of eye! For I am not light, for darkness is now I. A darkness I command not…”
His voice, turning into a growl as he continued on.
As weapons deemed legend, dove into his form.
“Blessed, I am not.”
As with a single wing beat, each was sent flying aside.
“Fire as it was absorbed within, Lightning deformed by my sins. My blood boils, my blood roars…”
All but Hanae who withstood the burst of mana, soaring forth as her claws expanded beyond her small frame.
“Yet my blood’s element…this is not.”
Swiping forwards, she was met with Erik’s Underblade, as the pitch-black weapon held one-handed deflected both sets of claws in a singular motion.
“As still, it rises forth…”
Suddenly Erik plummeted, crashing onto the ground yet still standing, his dark gaze rose to meet each of theirs as briefly he paused his chant.
“Let us begin, the final chapter.” He mused, before finishing his chant right after.
* * *
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Wg1MYjOguI
* * *
“Draconic School; Unleash Linage!” Erik bellowed, his voice naught but a monstrous roar, as his form exploded into swirls of darkness.
Growing, expanding into a massive form, Erikathyr the Dragon now suddenly stood before the three armies in his true might…yet changed.
Gone were the beautiful white scales,
Gone were the glorious golden horns,
Gone were his majestic white and gold wings.
With scales of the darkest black, jagged horns of crimson, leathery wings of
blood red held up by limbs of black…A feral violet filled Erik’s eyes, as his gaze befell his foe.
The Dragon arched back, wings briefly enclosing…
Before suddenly bursting wide open, sending forth a turbulent wind.
The Dragon roared, quaking the ground, quaking the air.
Quaking his enemy’s hearts, filling them with a primal kind of terror.
“Let us put this to rest, and play the final note to my melody!” Erikathyr exclaimed, stomping down onto his front clawed feet, as flames of the darkest black flickered in between his mouth.
As flames darker than night, burst out with the opening of his maw.
Hanae stepped forth to meet his attack, as her own form changed.
The reality of her shape shuddering, Hanae suddenly reappeared larger, different.
A massive brown bear with moss, leaves and an entire forest growing upon its back, eyes burning crimson as she stomped her right front paw down.
The ground shook, then rose to her will, forming a pillar of stone she deflected the Dragon’s fiery breath.
As over the stone, briefly she caught a glimpse of his spreading wings.
And as the pillar of stone fell to dust, a burst of wind followed as the Dragon rose into the skies.
Spinning in his upward motion, Erikathyr turned as he levelled out with wings held closed, reopening them as he spun to then re-face the ground.
“Come, denizens of Faetera, allow me to introduce you to your maker!” The Dragon called out, before descending down upon the gathered masses, seeming to each mortal eye like a horseman of the apocalypse.
His massive draconic form swept down, gliding over the army as a trail of darkness was left in his path, rising back up briefly as he turned to dive back down once more.
Maw widening, as once more Erikathyr swept over the armies.
Black flames engulfing thousands then, as many more rushed to get out of his wrath.
Ending his massacre by fire, as he came to meet the Elder Beast once more, and the two monsters clashed. As Erikathyr bent his wings upwards, revealing all four of his clawed feet as the mountain of a bear rose to her hind-legs.
Erik crashed into Hanae, his claws raking through her tough fur and even tougher hide, splattering blood all over those who stood beneath, a tidal wave of crimson upon many poor a soul. As the Elder Beast whined in pain, digging her own claws upon Erik’s scales, yet pierce them they did not.