Chapter 1.
"Did you know I nearly destroyed the world as we know it?" she whispered teasingly, as if confessing to nothing more than a mischievous prank.
I kept my gaze on the sky. It was a clear night, and the moons cast their light over the world below. The HoneyMoon, Altayer, trailed behind Luminarias, the NightMoon, and soon, Altayer moved in front, creating a night eclipse—Umbram Ti'iva, as I recalled. The idle thought reminded me that no matter howsoothing stargazing was.
But I wasn't here to stargaze, I was here for answers.
And the one who had them sat beside me.
Reluctantly, I tore my gaze from the sky and looked at
her. The light of Luminarias was enough to illuminate her features. And as always,
she was resplendent – but under the moons and stars, she was something more.
Ethereal. The contrast between her pale skin and th black – and – gold blindfold always caught the eye first. Then, it was the small bells tied to one of her dark pink horns, chiming in an elusive, hypnotic rhythm. They crowned her like an unusual diadem, their sound lingering longer than it should, as though caught in the fabric of time. Adding to her quiet, elegant inhumanity were the smattering of delicate scales that ran from beneath her blindfolded eyes, down her cheeks like tear tracks, ending at her throat in what could almost be mistaken for an ornate necklace.
Under Luminaris' light, she seemed ageless. Considering how the dragonkin aged, perhaps she truly was.
A cruel contrast to the ugly words she was speaking, I thought wryly.
"The fall of Ovis Orientalis nearly tore the Veil beyond repair," she continued, her tone unreadable. She huffed a quiet laugh. "Well… more like it almost erased it entirely." She turned to face me fully then, a serene smile on her lips, as if she hadn't just admitted to being responsible for the catastrophe that had upended me and mine's lives.
"Why the sudden confession?" I asked, my voice came out hoarse.
She tilted her head slightly, considering. "To be honest, I don't really remember how we came so close to ending the world as we know it. I don't recall why or how it happened" she paused. "But I do remember the what. And the who."
She shifted, and once again, the bells chimed—softly,
lingering long after she'd stopped moving. Behind her, a dark mass stirred. It was as if she'd commanded the moons and stars and dim their light.
"It's funny," she murmured, turning her face back towards the night sky"because
that day – or rather that night – was one of the most peaceful I'd had since this happened to me." She raised a hand to her blindfold, fingers brushing against it—dark pink patterns coiling over her skin. "Ironic, isn't it? That such peace was the catalyst for the storm that swept through the Empire and rippled across all planes of existence."
A quiet sigh.
A great set of wings unfurled, then curled around her—a typical draconic telltale sign of unease.
"My mother gave me a warning, and I passed it on. Please understand, I never thought things would turn out this way." She stopped abruptly, then exhaled. The wings furled back. "No… deep down, I knew her words would be taken as gospel. I hoped they would. One does not simply ignore the words of a Divine." A self-deprecating chuckle.
Silence stretched between us.
I was angry. No—furious.
At Her.
At the Divine of Fate and Prohecies
At the world, for how easily it had accepted what had happened.
But I swallowed the rage. I hadn't come here to fight. I was here for answers.
So, I waited.
She shifted again.
This time, the bells' chimes was different.
They were ominous.
Their echoes lingering in the silence/stillness.
"Let this be a lesson to all of us." She murmured, sighing quietly. We turned our gazes back to the stars, and for a fleeting moment, there was understanding between us.
But peace never lasts, she'd proven that.
She rose and conjured several globes of light with effortless precision, bypassing the need for runic circles altogether. The orbs drifted ahead forming a glowing path of light, more for my benefit than hers. I followed her, from the grasslands into a clearing where a monolith stood in all its shadowed glory.
Unheeding of my thoughts she continued forward until she was right up in-front of the monolith. There she placed a hand on it.
At her touch a 9-tiered silver-gold spell flared to life in an instant. It was impressive, not just because of the complexity of the spell, but the ease at which she'd activated it, and the quantity of mana used.
I didn't recognise the runes. Instead, I focused on her hand. Under the light what had looked to be odd markings revealed themselves to be delicate, champagne-coloured spiralling scales, winding from the back of her fingers down her wrist. It was a mesmerising sight.Then the glow faded and the wall vanished. Instead, a scroll floated into the upturned palm.
"Here. This is what you were looking for." She let it drift towards me. I hesitated in taking it. But I took it nonetheless. I was here for this. Now in my hands the urge to open it, to know, was nearly overwhelming. But I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. Instead, I placed it in the storage of my Kard.
When I looked back, she was gazing at the sky again. So I did the same.
I let the rustling leaves, the calls of nocturnal creatures, and the vast expanse of the stars calm the storm brewing in my thoughts. Then, eventually I asked again.
"why the sudden confession?"
She hummed thoughtfully "I don't really know." Just like before a serene, almost careless answer.
the atmosphere shifted.
The quiet peacefulness of the night was gone, replaced with something heavier.
Something serious. Something Dangerous.
She turned towards me, her whole being sharp. " I am not asking for forgiveness. Not yours or anybody's else. That would imply I regret my actions." Her tone was dry, factual and devoid of any apology. She paused and if felt myself be riled up at her words, her lack of regret, her unwavering determination.
The bells chimed again, louder this time, filling the space/void between us
"If given the same opportunity, I would do exactly as I did before" She turned back to stars. "The world is not divided into dark and light, good and evil. It's nothing but shades of grey. It is undeniable that I caused the initial spark, but it was the actions or inactions of others – your parents, your friends and yourself included – that fed and fuelled it until it was a raging inferno. I have accepted my role in this and the consequences that follow."
She stepped back, away from the light into the
shadows.
"Have you?"
And then without another word she walked back in the darkness, the chimes of her bells fading with every step.
Left alone in the darkness, her words echoed in my mind.
Was I at peace with my actions?
I sighed and shook my head to rid myself of such dark thoughts and let my draconic features take over. My eyes glowed gold, sharpening my visions and senses. I turned and retraced my steps.
As I passed the threshold of the protective barrier at my campsite, a familiar thrum of mana ran over my skin. I let the tension drain away from me and let myself fall forwards into Sheilla's waiting arms.
The scent of earth, citrus and seawater – something uniquely Sheilla, fill my lungs, settle my mind as she took my weight without hesitation.
She nosed at my hair and asked "Soooo… did you get the answers you were looking for?" she teased.
I exhaled a tired sigh. "Yes? No? Maybe?"
Sheilla snorted at my answer and despite everything, l laughed. Because it was ridiculous, really. Yes, I had answers, but ones that only led to more questions. Questions I sure I was ready to face.
Figures.
Sheilla hummed thoughtfully and whispered in my ear.
" Does it really matter?"
That was the real question wasn't it.
And though I wanted to say it had never crossed my mind, it had. Long before requesting an audience with the Head of Ministry of Creation, Her Holiness Celest'ia. I had already found an answer.
I hugged Sheila closer.
"No"
I let out a slow breath.
"No, it does not. "
And that was liberating.