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Shu Sakamaki Chaos Lineage Capítulo 12
[Cap 11]
#FFF42 - Alien Sunsets
Thanks @flashfictionfridayofficial! This is quickly becoming my Saturday morning tradition ♥️
Sunset of Shattered Glass - 552 words
Mexis sat on one of the thick silver roots of the Nessie tree, named for the way it grew in arches out the soil, undulating in and out like the humps of the famous Earthen sea monster. It was her favourite place to watch the sunset over Aris. Partly because it was in her backgarden, but mostly because it’s view spread across the bubbling plane of Diasol.
The naming here, for Mexis, was far more obvious. Diasol covered an expanse below the cliff where the green waters spread thin over Aris’s crust, and boiled into chuffing white foam, bubbling like a pot under both the radiant sun and shining moons. Sudden geysers burst up over vents, great fountains of noise throwing mist across the entire field, air becoming laden with salt and excitement. It was a sight to behold anytime of day. But, from Mexis’s tiny rented cottage in the East, the sunsets were truly spectacular.
It must have been something to do with the angle, or the way the bubbles formed close to the ground. But at sunset, the light met the water and the entire world became painted with a thousand spectrums. The droplets casually thrown in the air were now a thousand diamonds suspended between sea and sky and the bubbling below iridescent as the sun passed through prismatic landscape and cast rainbows all across the sky. Every night since the first Mexis had watched, and every night since the first she was awe-inspired.
Gazing out over Diasol, Mexis was almost too swept up in the magic to hear her companion Zyr hopping out the house.
‘Soaking in our last sunset, eh?’ She sang, nudging Mexis’s shoulder as she skipped passed, jumping up onto a neighbouring Nessie. Her smile was wide and she sighed as she stared out. ‘Can you believe this time tomorrow we’ll be exploring the great expanse once again?’
‘Mmm.’ Mexis hummed. The last sunset. For some reason that notion left her stomach unsettled. She shifted her coat, trying to simply focus on the sun. A photo simply wouldn’t do this place justice. Even a moving one wouldn’t be the same. Technology couldn’t capture the depth of the scene, the constant changing of the light, the way the colours blended, how the slightest movement of your head shifted the entire pattern. The smell of the salt that filled your lungs, the sound of the waters crashing below, the unpredictable bursts of the geysers. It would all be lost...
‘You don’t want to go.’
‘What?’
Mexis turned to her friend and found she was staring. Her arms were crossed, eyes narrow as she stood tall on her platform, jaw set.
‘You don’t want to go.’ She repeated.
And it was more venomous this time, as if the words had licked the ends of her canines and came out jagged. Mexis drew her chest tight.
‘I never said that.’
‘So you do!’
‘I didn’t-‘
Mexis jumped form her perch but her friend turned the other way.
‘I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.’ She whispered, voice betraying the tears Mexis knew were about to fall.
‘I’m not doing anything!’ She pleaded. Zyr scoffed.
‘Please.’
Mexis reached out for her arm but Zyr ripped it away.
‘Don’t.’ Was all she said before she stomped back into the house.
Story #12
Title: N/A
Genre: Gen
Main characters: Lucy Heartfilia, Cana Alberona, Natsu Dragneel
Pairings: Minor NaLu, minor GrUvia
NSFW?: No
Rating: T
Trigger warnings: Gr//via
Summary: Lucy Heartfilia is a high society lady whose entire life has already been planned for. Trapped in the role she is forced to play, she rebels the best way she can to find freedom and live life according to her own terms. However, her efforts seem to become each time more futile since her father began trying to marry her off. When Lucy stars to lose hope, Fairy Tail Circus comes into town.
Other information: Circus AU. Multi-chaptered.
Kanato Sakamaki Chaos Lineage Capítulo 12
[Cap 11]
In a land of imagination, the War of Freedom is brewing, Humans against Those With Wings… When "out of the potential" to become "out of hand" has reached it's epitome; something in the universe must give. Living selfishly, powerfully & egotistically for too many eons has turned the world sour. Planet Essen is twice the size of Planet Jupiter; ten times any magical world you've experienced. Now answer this, "How can a species turn a planet that gigantic; sour?" Only Those With Wings know, ever since the enslavement of humans; the planet has returned to a more natural dreamscape of magic. The kind of magic that will give you butterflies on top of dragonflies; maximum tingling... Over views that make dragons, phoenixes & griffins cry. Humans dream of seeing that again. The generations first enslaved were separated by ethnicity. Ultimately separated; it's been 16,000 years since. Eons of watching the skies return to their multi colors, of seeing crops return per their rations; eons of passing down how great bodies of water make humans feel... Eons of planning a prophecy of might by communicating beyond long distances to creating twenty four humans of mass creation & destruction. Secrets were a group effort for the ultimate try to get their freedom back. Those With Wings will say otherwise.
In the above image, you’ll notice about five females & males with chromatic type skin. Green = Dagoaden, Red = Nexion, Actonese = Blue, White = Luminarian & Black = Oboto. Along side Blacks, Latinos, Middle Easterners, Whites & Asians; this world has those types of ethnicities. Below, in order of appearance; the Angels, the Fairies & the Devils. Those With Wings… They run one third’s the planet; each. Their queendoms & kingdoms are mighty where the castles are. Where the castles aren’t; a gigantic world that leads into the ruins of yester human, other dimensions, an underwater world or three & worlds in the ozone.
The Last Dragon
Estate of Elder Barnabus Jaeger
Bures, Suffolk, England
-2010-
The car ride was mostly silent as the family of three drove through the countryside. The father, a well-dressed man in his mid to late thirties with neatly combed dark hair and a trimmed beard, was driving while also following the directions on his smartphone. His wife, a beautiful woman equal to him in age dressed in a black dress and blazer, was simply taking in the countryside and occasionally checking on their son, a teen dressed similar to his father listening to his iPod. She had wondered where the years had gone, especially since they had just left a funeral. The service was for her husband’s father, a World War II veteran as well as former member of the SAS, Barnabus Jaeger, or “Barnie” as he was called by his mates and family.
Barnabus loved his family as well, he always had something good to say and rarely raised his voice, and to his only grandson Henry he was a constant inspiration. Other than Barnabus’ military service, the wife knew that after the war he married young and went to college to study finance. He then went on to work for a successful corporation, which he later became CEO of, that helped him take care of his family, his wife Emily passed away only four years prior but Barnabus still managed his company. Sadly he took a turn health wise, he was mostly healthy but the loss of his wife took its toll. The wife took solace in knowing at least he would be reunited with his wife, hopefully filling the hole her loss left in his heart.
The car turned down a one way road and immediately into a driveway, they stopped in the driveway in front of a small mansion. It was only two stories tall, but the interior made it feel much larger, there were ten bedrooms, five baths, several offices, an attic, and a basement. The design was Victorian, which made it seem old but it was surprisingly well maintained, Barnabus did like making things last. As the family slowly drove, they noticed another car had already parked.
“I reckon that’s the attorney.” The husband said, parking next to the black sedan.
“I reckon so. Henry, we’re here.” The wife added, before tapping her son on the knee.
The boy took out his earbuds then looked at his mother and father, they both managed to smile despite the reasons being at his grandfather’s home.
“This won’t take long, promise.” The father said, patting his son’s head.
“You alright?” The mother asked her son.
The son only nodded, not feeling up to talk at the moment.
The family then got out of their sedan, stretching for a moment before walking to the front door, which opened suddenly, allowing them to be greeted by a familiar face. Before them stood a short but stout woman dressed in a Victorian style maid uniform, her auburn hair done up in a bun, and though she was mature in age she had a youthful attitude. Her freckled cheeks plumped up as she smiled warmly, doing a curtsy as she welcomed the family;
“Master Benjamin, Mistress Eveline, and young Master Henry, Welcome.”
“Hello Annette.” The parents said in unison, both sharing a chuckle how synchronized it was.
“Hi Annette.” Henry added, smirking for a moment before his frown returned.
Annette let the family in and took their coats before quickly returning.
“It’s good to see you again Annette, I wish it wasn’t on such terrible timing.” Eveline said.
“Oh think nothing of it, Master Barnabus was not one to be sad in such times. He always believed when he passed that we remember his life and not mourn his passing. If it’s not too bold of me to say.” Annette said.
“It’s alright, but I’m afraid we are also here on business. I assume the lawyer is here?” Benjamin asked Annette.
“Oh yes, they’re waiting in the office, right this way.” Annette answered, guiding them down the halls to a set of double doors, inside the sprawling office were three individuals, two men and one woman, the woman was the oldest of the trio in her mid forties while the two men seemed in their early twenties. The woman was holding a briefcase as the parents turned to Annette.
“Annette, why don’t you take Henry somewhere quiet, we shouldn’t be long.” Benjamin said.
“Be good Henry, listen to Annette.” Eveline said to Henry before he nodded and smiled warmly.
“Come along young Master, I’ll fix you something to turn that frown upside down.” Annette said with a smile. She then took Henry’s hand and led him away from the room. Benjamin and Eveline shook the woman’s hand before taking their seats as did the woman, the two men standing behind her on both sides.
“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger, my name is Bella Haleigh. I am the attorney provided by your father’s company and the Executor of his Will and Estate.” She spoke.
“Pleasure to meet you Ms. Haleigh.” Benjamin said.
“Yes, a pleasure.” Eveline replied.
“Before we start, let me just express my deepest condolences for your loss Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger.” Bella added.
“Thank you, Ms. Haleigh, it has been rough for all of us.” Benjamin said, with Eveline taking his hand in comfort.
“Your father was a great inspiration to us all. Forgive me for asking, but was that your son, Henry?” Bella asked.
“Yes, he was. I guess my father talked about him, huh?” Benjamin asked.
“Very fondly, he adored Henry. Forgive me for asking, but how old is he?” Bella asked.
“He just turned fifteen recently.” Eveline answered
“Oh fun age, your father had it in his mind that Henry would follow in his footsteps at the company.” Bella said.
“Well, he will make his decision in due time, then again he has it in his mind he wants to be an Art Curator.” Eveline added.
“Yes, we all have to make decisions in time, some tougher than others. I for one would be happy to have him in our company. The Financial district has very good benefits. But down to business I won't take too much of your time.” Bella said, opening her briefcase and retrieving the will.
As they tended to their business, Annette had treated Henry to some warm lavender tea, his favorite. It seemed to help for a time but Annette could sense he still had a dark cloud hanging over him. Suddenly Annette hatched an idea, she knew exactly what would cheer him up.
"Young Master, why don't you go into your Grandfather's study while I see to my duties. I know your Grandfather left something in there for you." Annette said.
Henry smirked before walking through the halls passing portraits of medieval knights, suits of armor on stands with their swords and shields, the large portrait of his grandfather with the family, and the family flag of a red dragon holding a shield with its wings outstretched. Eventually Henry came to a room he remembered quite well, his grandfather’s study. The room was circular with several bookcases that went to the ceiling, on the far left side was a window that overlooked a pond in the garden where a gazebo was also set up. Henry walked over to the large desk where his grandfather would work and spend many nights in thought. He noticed a thick leather bound notebook on the desk with a note that said “for Henry” taped to its cover.
Henry gently removed the taped note and read it silently to himself;
“Dear Henry
Though my time in this world has come to an end, I have no regrets. My time was brief, and despite the horrors I have seen, my life was filled with so much wonder I can only thank God for how much I have been blessed. Especially for the joy you brought into my life. As a soldier I fought for my country and as a father I protected those who were dearest to me, my honor is assured.
This journal contains my memoirs and the truth of what I did, where I went, the things I encountered, and what I lost. Every word is true, no matter how fantastically absurd some of it may sound. As you grow older, I hope that you never lose your sense of wonder. Do not forget the things you enjoy and surround yourself with likeminded people, those people will always be your truest of friends. If I must have one regret, it is that I personally didn’t get to tell you of my adventures, I hope you can forgive me for that.
Since it is Fate that we be separated on earth, I hope we’ll meet again in Heaven.
Remember me in your fondest memories.
Your Grandpa Barnie
Always.”
Henry sat in the chair as his hands trembled. A couple of his tears stained the bottom of the note so he sat it on the desk to avoid staining it more. After drying his face and calming himself he folded the note and placed it to the side before picking up the journal. It was an old leather bound style, the leather was aged and worn in some places, mostly around the edges. It smelled old as well, like aged ink and faint glue, and the binding was starting to come loose but it was still holding together. Taking a deep breath, he opened the journal.
The first page had a hand drawn portrait of a much younger Barnabus, Henry couldn’t help but see the similarities they shared. From the sparse stubble to the nose and even the curly hair, it all made him smile and even chuckle. The first few pages were of Barnabus’s being born in 1919, his childhood in post Great War Britain, his father was a veteran who struggled greatly until he was given the opportunity to work in construction. The next pages spoke of his family being German immigrants, which was the origin of their family name, “Jaeger’’ meaning “hunter”. Henry skipped ahead several pages, settling on the page that labeled his time in the army; at the start of World War II he readily joined the effort.
As he read further, Henry read a passage that was both disturbing and unbelievable;
“I was on night patrol with a couple of my mates along the coast just a couple hundred yards from our base camp, ours was one of many Anti-Aircraft Batteries along the coast to defend against bombing raids. We were part of a platoon, nearly fifty men, it had been quiet the previous couple nights so everyone was incredibly relaxed. We would regret not being prepared. The first time I heard it, I brushed it off as simply a gust of wind, a breeze from the ocean. The second time my squadmate, Joseph Makkey, turned to me and asked “you heard that, right?”, all three of us began looking to the sky.
The moon was high but there was some overcast that obstructed any clear view. The sound was clearer now, a whoosh of wind followed by some kind of growl, but not the growl of an engine. No, this growl was too natural, no plane engine could imitate it. Suddenly the silence was broken by this haunting shouting voice, followed by several terrible roars. The world was ablaze as streams of fire rained onto our camp, the sounds of my comrades screaming filled the air as their bodies melted to ash, explosions of our ammunition and vehicles filled us with terror.
Me and my squadmates ran to the camp, our training taking over, but before we could reach the outskirts, I saw them. Three large black shapes silhouetted against the moon as they got into formation to come around for another pass, I shouted to my mates as they reached the camp before me but it was too late as three pillars of flame descended from the sky. One moment my friends were in front of me, the next they were engulfed in flame, somehow I got a clear look as these creatures flew overhead. Each one was at little over thirty feet long with a wingspan of comparable length, scaled bodies, leathery wings like a demon, and from their mouths came fire. On their backs were men shouting and whooping in celebration as they saw their handiwork, the one leading them shouted something, and as quickly as they appeared they were gone.
As the fires died and morning came I silently sat surrounded by the ashes of my platoon, some of the bodies were barely even skeletons. At my feet was Joseph Makkey, his face was coated in ash, his torso was scorched of all flesh, and nothing but brittle blackened bones below his waist. His uniform had melted to his body, almost replacing his skin but what I will forever remember is the look in his eyes. How scared they looked, how much pain he was in, the raw agony of the fire. For so long I cursed God for leaving just me, why was I allowed to live and not more? Out of the fifty men in my camp, Why was I the only one who survived? They stayed forever young, and here I am still…”
Henry was a mix of sad and disbelief at how horrible his grandfather really felt, that under that chipper and loving exterior was a man who had been through Hell itself. Henry read the journal more, finding out that after the incident, which was labeled a surprise bombing, Barnabus was approached by a man who claimed to be part of the SAS. What stood out though was how knowledgeable this man was about the creatures that Barnabus saw, describing them as “Firedrakes”. He went into greater detail about them, adding that they were being used by the Germans as part of their Blitzkrieg, but also told Barnabus that the information would not be free. The other pages read about how Barnabus joined the man in a secret organization called The Order, the cost for surviving and knowing of their existence.
As Henry read through the journal, back in the office downstairs the meeting was close to wrapping up with Ms. Haleigh set the will to the side and grabbed a final piece of paper.
“Now that we have the legal matters settled, it was the last request of your father that I read this to both of you.” She began, before reading the letter.
“Benjamin and Eveline
While the mansion and estate have been my home in the twilight of my life, it barely felt like home since your mother, my Emily, passed away. Since it now belongs to you both, I will not fault you should you choose to sell it, all I ask is that my personal journal and my war chest be given to Henry. I know he has been interested in my adventures, and my one regret is I was unable to tell him everything. My hope is that even though my life has come to an end, I can continue to be part of his.
Your Father Barnabus” Ms. Haleigh finished.
Benjamin looked at Eveline and both agreed while they had their jobs in Cambridge it wouldn’t be too much of a change. If anything, moving into the mansion would mean adjusting for drive time since it was an hour from Cambridge to Suffolk. They could also agree that it couldn’t hurt for Henry to have some of his Grandfather’s things, it’s what Barnabus would’ve wanted anyway. And the country air would likely do them all some good, and the village people were all so nice. As the couple finished their business, Henry was still reading the passages in the journal.
He was barely a quarter through, learning Barnabus had joined a special battalion meant to hunt down and kill these dragons, they were aptly called The Dragonslayers. Several more pages described the Firedrakes used by the German’s Elite Air Division, most were thirty feet long from nose to tail, Barnabus did note that while he and his comrades brought down larger Firedrakes, the thirty footers were the most common. The Firedrakes only had four limbs, two wings, which folded to allow for walking on all fours, and two back legs and they could breath fire that could reach up to a thousand degrees fahrenheit. The Germans used hidden factories as breeding depots to churn out hundreds of these creatures in a matter of months and used strange devices that grew them to adults within only a couple months of hatching. There were detailed drawings of the creatures with lengths and wingspans, even descriptions of the saddles of the German riders along with their flight suits and equipment.
Several pages later showed some new creatures that resembled the type of dragons he had seen in storybooks, four legs and a pair of wings, not to mention the depiction of them breathing fire. There was a chart labeling the sizes of the European dragon throughout their lifecycle;
“-Hatchling-Infant- around 20 inches long, 10 inches tall at the shoulder, wingspan comparable to body length, incapable of flight, unable to breath fire, scales are rough to the touch but not thick. Pupils are round and horns are nubby. After 6 weeks the hatchling is considered an infant and stays near its parent or nest. Susceptible to small arms fire.
-Wyrmling- around 40-50 years of age, 40 to 45 feet from nose to tail, standing 10 to 15 feet at the shoulder, pupils have constricted to a more vertical shape, horns have lengthened and sharpened to points, wingspan is same as body length, and scales have begun to grow dense. Scales have the same armor density as 25mm of steel, most small arms unable to penetrate. Heavy weapons or anti-tank weapons are advised.
-Adult- adulthood begins around 80 years of age, up 90 feet long from nose to tail, standing 30 feet tall at the shoulder, scale armor density equivalent to 90mm of steel, eyes have dim glow to them, horns show wear and tear, scales are bright and brilliant in color. Tank and air support is heavily advised.
-Great Wyrm- approximately 100 years of age, 140 feet long from nose to tail, 40 feet at the shoulder, scale armor density equivalent to 110mm of steel, eyes brightly glow, sometimes glossing over the pupil, horns beginning to splinter at the tips, wingspan same as body length, scales in some parts show signs of scale rot. Aside from breathing fire, one was observed to use lightning as a breath weapon and as an area of effect attack. Tank support, heavy artillery, and air support is required.
-Elder Wyrm- several centuries old, 280 to 300 feet long and 80 feet tall at the shoulder, scale armor density is near impenetrable except when worn down by continuous heavy weapon fire, scale rot has set in and is most visible around where the joints flex and bend. The body is covered in horn and spine growth, the wingspan is equivalent to the body length and capable of hurricane level gusts. The rarest of the dragon species, very little information, other than infield hunting, is known.``
Henry was confused by that last note, as he thought dragons were just fairytales. Yet why would his Grandfather have so much information on them? He turned the page to find several maps of France, Germany, Eastern Europe, Scandinavia, and even England itself, all maps had X’s along with a date and page number next to them, each one signifying where various dragons were killed during and after the war. He flipped through the journal some more, passing a page that made him go back. This one had a location and a date, “Southern Bavaria, 1950, Elder Wyrm, casualties 97 of 110”, steeling himself, Henry read the passage.
“It was a warm summer day, in the shadows of these mountains I’m pretty sure they were the Chiemgau Alps. There was this village we had arrived at situated in this peaceful valley, but there were wyrmling sightings in the area, we feared that meant an Adult was roaming around. The Order sent a hundred and ten of us to investigate, we had support from four Centurion tanks, each with a crew of four, a battery of these 5.5 inch guns, six whole guns with ten men on each one, and that left only thirty-four of us to engage the beast on foot. Well not on foot per say as we all had horses that we would be riding, like the knights of old. We waited into the night, we all sat and talked about the finer things, family back home, situations abroad, and other things.
I remembered my time with the Dragon Slayers as we took the fight to the Germans, I remembered while the Firedrakes were used to take on our armed forces the Dragons themselves were reserved for more vile deeds. When Hitler’s final solution was enacted, they used dragon fire to extinguish the evidence of their fell deeds, burning hundreds of villages, taking the lives of countless innocents. For these crimes there was no forgiveness, our orders were to hunt down the beasts and end them. I didn’t question my orders, not once, for me it was as simple as avenging my comrades. Then all of a sudden, it happened.
The sky opened as a streak of fire rained on the village, the silence broken by the sound of rushing wind and the wails of the dying and panicked people. In the dead of night, it looked like day, like Hell itself, whether it was courage or our training we leapt into action. We spurred our horses onward as it came over again, setting the rest of the village on fire. There was a great rumble that made the earth tremble, then we saw him standing illuminated by his own fire. Crimson scales glowed in the light, his wings like great shadows stretched outward, his maw was like an open furnace and his eyes glowed bright, the size of him left us frozen, awestruck, frightened.
From his mouth came death, flame so hot it turned buildings of stone to dust, our escape was cut off, our rearguard left incinerated. Our tanks and artillery fired on him, but those that hit barely grazed his armor, his impenetrable scales held even as we hit him with our anti-tank weapons. It didn’t faze him, what happened next shattered our hope. As he was assaulted by artillery, his body glowed red hot then took an orange color as sparks traveled up his spines, his neck, and wingtips, he faced the hillside where our tanks and artillery were and drew a deep breath. With a deafening roar, lightning spewed from his mouth, wingtips, and back, the hillside erupted in explosions, with one sway of his head the heavy guns were silent.
Our commander ordered us to hide as he went to distract the beast, we found a basement and took shelter as the beast continued his furious display. We dared not emerge until morning, we easily found the body of our commander, his body scorched from the chest down. Even when the dragon was gone, I couldn’t stop shaking. One hundred and ten men went to Bavaria and only thirteen came back.”
Henry was shocked by the story, disbelieving if it could be real but he didn’t have time to think as the door was opened by his father.
“Henry, we've been looking all over for you. What have you got there?” His father asked in relief.
“It’s Granddad’s old journal, he left it to me, there was a note and everything.” Henry said, showing his dad the letter.
It was then the rest of the mother and Annette came in. All three let out a sigh of relief before embracing Henry and his father. Ms Haleigh and her two companions also entered the room and, noticing the happy family, said her goodbyes before seeing herself out with her two escorts in tow. The family also decided it was time to head home as well, of course they took Barnabus’s war chest, a large trunk, with them before leaving. Once the family was back home they had dinner and discussed moving into the mansion, all agreeing it was a good idea, before turning in for the night. Henry however stayed awake to read more of his Grandfather’s journal, getting to the part where he fought the Elder Dragon a second time made him worry a little.
Barnabus wrote that in the 1960s, he and the Dragonslayers returned to Bavaria, this time with more advanced artillery, in this case some experimental tanks we called Chieftains, three whole companies of them. Knowing that the same dragon they faced had roosted in the mountains, they were taking no chances this time around. Barnabus even mentioned they had help from a pair of magic users, which Henry questioned as dragons were one thing but people using magic was pushing the reality a little. He continued reading, getting to the part where the dragon appeared and as he breathed his fire, the magic users pushed it back at him. The Chieftain’s gun had been equipped with high penetration sabot rounds that were devastating to the once impenetrable armor of the dragon as every shot sent scales and blood flying.
Though Henry was astonished by the passage, the following passage of the dragon’s lair left him in awe.
“…Deep in the cavern, among the blackened rocks and clawed trenches in the stone I found a central chamber with only one other occupant. Another dragon curled up in the back, its tail and wings covering most of its body minus it’s neck and front legs, the shorter horns and overall smaller size identified it as a female. Her scales were taken by the rot, once vibrant scales were now dull and brittle, her body was skinny and her limbs frail, her wings had barely enough leather for gliding let alone flight, but even in this state she could’ve still posed a threat. Seeing this female as she was made me feel something I thought I had lost, I felt sorry for her. I put down my rifle and sword before slowly approaching the female, her eyes burning holes in me not in rage but as if looking for something beneath my armor.
Her voice startled me, so much it made my heart stop, she asked him a single question. “Why do you falter?”
I replied that I didn't know, which was true. I had no idea why now I chose to take pity on her, just that for the first time in a while, I was unable to end her. She spoke again saying;
“Perhaps you finally know the gravity of your actions. The countless numbers of my kin you killed, and soon I shall join them.”
“But why does it feel wrong now? Your kin burned countless people, erased villages, and for what?” I answered, my anger resurfacing but she kept her calm voice as she retorted.
“Me and my kin joined the humans of Germany because their leader promised us a return to our glory instead of living in the shadow of the new dawn. When we finally knew the cost of such promises, we were too late to oppose it and in truth many of us were blind to the consequences. We burned millions and for that alone your kind sought our extinction, but I must ask, was it worth it? When we are all gone, erased from your memories, does it absolve you of your own sins?”
Her words rang through me, in my own quest for revenge I had sullied my hands in the blood of countless dragons. I looked her in the eyes and told her how sorry I was. I even told her that, if it would bring her peace in her final moments, she could take my life. Instead she gave me a chance of redemption, she lifted her tail revealing a single egg laying against her body, covered in red scales and even had a faint glow to it. Tentatively I took it in my hands, it was heavy at least ten pounds and a little bigger than a soccer ball.
As I held the egg in my arms she revealed her name as Fyrasol, and with her last breath made me promise to care for her last hatchling. I vowed that day that the cycle of death ended with me and I would sooner end my own life before I broke it…”
Henry was speechless at the ending but decided that perhaps thinking about it would be best suited for the morning. He sat the journal on the nightstand and laid in his bed before drifting off to dreams of dragons.
-Ten years later-
Henry had finished looking over a report of a relocation project for an Adult dragon to one of the Shetland Isles. Seeing the team had successfully released the Dragon, he ordered them back to Headquarters as soon as they were able. As he relaxed he looked at the picture of him and his Grandfather when he was a kid, it made him think of how far he came after his Grandfather’s funeral. After he finished his secondary education, Henry was recruited by the Order, then further followed Barnabus’ footsteps in joining the Keepers, the former Dragonslayers who joined Barnabus’ dream to ensure the survival of the remaining dragons. As Henry sat in memory he suddenly got a call on his desk phone;
“Director Jaeger.” Henry greeted.
“Director, she’s ready for her afternoon flight.” A female voice answered.
“I'll be right down.” Henry said before hanging up.
Henry went to a closet and pressed a code on a keypad, revealing a black fitted flight suit, he got dressed in it before leaving his office and navigating the facility’s halls to a room overlooking a hanger bay. This hanger however wasn’t for aircraft, instead it had been turned into a lair for a rather exceptional female Wyrmling, she was born from the egg Barnabus saved all those years ago. Following her recovery, Barnabus returned to the Order where he and his fellow Dragonslayers vowed they would dedicate themselves to the preservation of Dragons. The newfound Keepers then began their efforts by locating and guarding the last remaining dragons in Europe, even coordinating with their comrades in the east, learning how to care for these creatures. Named after her mother, Fyra hatched in 1970 and was cared for by Barnabus until his passing in 2010, and less than a decade later she was placed under Henry’s care.
When Henry entered the room he noticed she was being tended to by several people attaching a saddle to her back and in front of her was a woman with glasses and a ponytail who waved at Henry as he came to greet them both.
“Afternoon Director, I was just giving Fyra a weather update.” The woman said adjusting her glasses.
“I've flown in high winds before.” The dragon replied with a huff.
“Yes but our Director will be on your back, so I’m simply reminding you to be careful.” The woman says as Henry shakes his head, knowing all the regulations when he went out on such dangerous activities.
“Dr. Blume, I can assure you I will be just fine. Now I think Fyra has waited long enough, if everything is ready let’s get this ball rolling.” Henry said.
The men secured the saddle and joined Dr. Blume in the observation room as Henry put on his oxygen supply and a helmet to protect him from the high winds. He got onto Fyra’s saddle, secured a line to his harness, and gave the thumbs up for the hanger doors to open. Fyra stamped her feet excitedly, her wings extended slowly as a red light blinked slowly, once the doors were open fully the light turned green giving Fyra the go ahead. She started with a loping run before leaping out the hanger and taking to the sky, her excitement made evident when she let out a roar and a jet of fire into the air.