[1] Tempest
There are two creatures. One large, one small. Heat rolls off the large one in waves. She lays on her stomach, eyes half-lidded. The other creature is young. She is lost in thought. Her gaze is far away, not on its companion. The larger creature begins to speak-
Wind is just air pressure. High-pressure areas of air moving into areas of low pressure - because everything wants to reach an equilibrium, a balance, and Wind is not the exception. But this was no wind, no. Physically? Maybe. But no - in reality,
This was wrath.
Wrath, not wind was the force behind this. Whipping through the air like blades with the strength to tear anything in range apart. The trees, chained to the ground by a force as old as the mountains itself were torn from the ground, freed from their chains and splintering into fragments of wood. The ground was torn asunder, sprays of dirt and rock flying into the air and staining the ground. These kinds of things tended to happen when wind moved faster than the speed of sound. Few creatures could survive these kinds of winds. Almost all races would be ground up to dust. Unicorns and Rams would be able to fare slightly better by virtue of their active magic, but very few could survive for more than a handful of seconds at most. Pegasi and Gryphons would be able to survive for the longest, but even they would be torn apart soon after. The only creatures with a true hope of surviving would be those of draconic or divine origins. Dragons, Draconequi, Spirits, and of course, a Drakon. This little view into the future though is a bit ahead, and should as thus be placed in the back of your mind. For now.
If someone was to see a drakon, they would mistake it for a dragon. It would be no fault of theirs, until future examination. Scaled, large, angry, horned, and draconic in origin - they shared the same divine ancestor (all of the draconic, the wyverns, the dragons, the drakons, the serpents, etc, could all be traced back to the very first Elemental Spirits), but were both purely draconic in nature. They could be mistaken for divine entities, however. Some of the most powerful draconics were able to fight the weaker Spirits. The most notable difference would not be that drakons had four or six horns depending on gender, but rather the fact that drakons had no wings, and were often bulkier, stronger than a dragon, but with significantly less mobility as a result of their lack of wings. They lacked fire breath, although they were sometimes able to expel energy and spells from their mouth. A drakon mage was more common than a dragon, not by virtue of a larger magic pool - quite the contrary, dragons had more magic on average, but rather through their numerous horns which allowed them to expel large quantities of magic in smaller periods of time. A drakon has before released such a surge of power that it stunned even the more powerful Spirits briefly, with an emphasis on briefly.
There is another outlier on the list that is worth mentioning, and something that has been mentioned before and will be excessively referred back to. A Spirit.
A Spirit is not a race. There is no physical classification for what a Spirit is. A Spirit could be a ghost. A poltergeist. Or, the manifestation of something. The manifestation of Good. Of Evil. Love, Lust, Hatred, or - Discord. A Spirit is not born but rather created through the process of ascendancy. A creature becoming so massively powerful that it lights a spark of divinity that is present within every sapient and magical being, and it becomes a Spirit. A Spirit is not a god, but they are close and referred to as divines most of the time. They are ageless, yes. Powerful, immensely, although they are not omnipotent over their sphere. The Spirit of Mind cannot control Mind, for what is Mind? How do you control, how do you weaponize mind? Thought? Rather, they are given raw power attuned to certain things that suit their sphere. Mind control abilities, hive mind...et cetera. No, Queen Chrysalis is not the Spirit of Mind, but rather an overgrown emissary of Order. They are immortal, almost. But...unbeatable? No. Not in the slightest. Once, there were very many Spirits. Then, there were two. Now, there is a resurgence of them - but some have been utterly destroyed, their magic as equally eroded as their minds and physical bodies. The reason for this has been disputed massively, but I know the truth - which I will disclose momentarily. Some claim they aren't as resilient as thought. Some claim that a civil war tore them apart - this has an inkling of the truth. During the Fall, they were eradicated, and their civilizations with them. The entire world, ravished by a lack of leadership and the torment of their species.
The question has been on your tongue for a while now, I see it- the Fall. While it's something the remaining Spirits aren't very fond of talking about, it is an important part of history, despite how foggy the details are. Its name is as such because it is the end of the Golden Age of Liogella. A name you might not recognize - Equestria is not the only place there is. There are other continents, although they are admittedly ravaged by their own problems.
Once upon a time, there were Spirits for everything - the ground, the sky, the wind, the sun, the moon, life, death - There were as many spirits as abstract concepts, each with their own immense power. While, for example, the spirit of Sky was quite a powerful customer, there were some Spirits that were stronger. Harmony was one, although there is only so much Harmony that can exist, because of how widespread it was during the Golden Age, Harmony was as a result, perhaps the most powerful Spirit. Love and Hate were two particularly powerful ones if only because while there was a limit on how much earth there was in Liogella, there was not a limit for how much love or hate is in Liogella. And this small quirk of the Spirits, empowerment through their spheres, was what allowed an elderly, frail Spirit to lead to the destruction of almost the entire world.
I'm quite sure you, of all people, know of whom I refer to. Discord. The Spirit of Chaos. Chaos is an abstract thing, and because of how broad a subject it is that is what allowed Discord to be so powerful. A complete anarchic state and a small disagreement are all the same to the Chaos King, food. Fuel. Sustenance. Power. While they are different in scale - eating a steak is different from eating a grain of rice, you could still both call them "food." The broadness of his sphere means Discord can nearly never TRULY be killed. There will always be one person disagreeing with another, even in a near-perfect state of Harmony. And this is the eternal grapple that was engineered - Order, Chaos, and Harmony. Harmony can weaken both Order and Chaos, while only Absolute Order or Absolute Chaos can kill the other. The Equilibrium was designed - things were supposed to be in balance. Chaos and Order as weights on the scale of Harmony, although that analogy is not entirely accurate - more like two squabbling friends with a mediator to prevent one from hurting the other. But since Order is not Harmony, this allowed for Chaos to become more powerful, more rapidly when the first seeds - metaphorical, despite his history - of disharmony sprouted. No one really wants Absolute Order, who wants to be a mindless slave? Absolute Harmony would be nice, but it is sadly impossible. Absolute Chaos is cruel and unforgiving, and no one wants that, but they would prefer it over Order. The same way that someone would probably prefer a painless and quick death over a slow and painful one.
So when the Spirit of Order went missing, no one really bothered to look into it, examine the details. While Harmony had grown to her almost full strength, and Order had grown progressively weaker, only still in existence thanks to the Changelings and the fact that Spirits never die...which requires some more explanation before I continue. Spirits are magic imbued into physical forms. Their physical forms are resilient, and regenerate from almost anything - their magical forms are equally resilient but much, much harder to heal. Sometimes though, beings of enough power can destroy a Spirit's physical body. This is rare, and ineffective due to the fact that a Spirit - unless their magic is destroyed, which is impossible without destroying the concept of what they represent, will always reform in different skin. When Celestia ascended to Divinity, she gained with her memories of Apollo - although, fragmented due to the Fall. The same was with Artemis and Luna, and all the other reincarnated Spirits.
Discord's most notable weakness was petrifaction under the powers of Harmony. This does not splinter or destroy his mind, body or magic which would all lead to him reforming. He was Bound, as the term is. Weakened and unable to escape or move. This is how a Spirit was killed.
But this was discovered AFTER Order went missing. Spirits had never really hated their polar opposites enough to kill them and throw all of Liogella into a civil war. Discord and Order were perhaps the exceptions, so when Order disappeared it had been assumed that he was simply killed by another Spirit and would reform one day, take it a decade, a century, or even a millennium. In reality, Discord had Bound his rival, which let him grow without fear of opposition. Lying in wait, preying and snacking on the scraps of food he could find, before he pounced. And The Fall began.
Discord Bound Order, but he did not have the same mercy for the other Spirits. Discord was powerful at this time, but not omnipotent. Harmony still presented a threat to him, and a Spirit with enough power could destroy his physical body temporarily to allow the Spirits to divine a method to defeat him. He simply didn't have it in him to Bind all of the Spirits simultaneously - Binding Order had already weakened him significantly. So as he destroyed the bodies of his brethren, he also tore their mind asunder. A Spirit will always heal, given enough time and that their concept isn't destroyed, but the mind is a lot slower to heal than the body. And as Discord tore the memories out, he did not just damage the mind, but stole bits of it. Healing that would be like regenerating wings when you never had wings in the first place. Next to impossible. The Spirits forged Liogella over the course of centuries, but the War between Discord and the Spirits lasted only a month. Order was Bound, Harmony was sealed off from accessing the world, and the majority of Spirits were destroyed and their reincarnations would have too little of their memories to be a threat to Discord.
Sadly though, he had forgotten one Spirit and the biggest player in his game. The Spirit of War - grown powerful off Discord's battle against the Spirits. Another trait to mention about Spirits would be how a Spirit was not a unique race. Say a pony was to have a shard of divinity in them, they would be able to become a spirit. However, if a pony was to become a spirit, they would become the prime example of their race. This was what made the draconic Spirits so absurdly powerful and feared - not only was the Spirit of Fire able to control fire to an unmatched degree, by virtue of his divinity he would be stronger, larger, faster and more generally powerful than any other dragon that wasn't ascended. And so, my tangents all combine and intertwine together. Spirits, the Fall, and prime specimens. And most importantly - a drakon.
"And why are you telling me this?" A voice interrupted the large creature, eliciting a raise of an eyebrow from her.
"Why, little spirit," she began with a tone that showcased how obvious everything seemed to her, the tone one would take with a child, "this is where our story TRULY begins."
On average, if you put a drakon and a dragon in a fight, a dragon would come out on top. A dragon has more mobility by virtue of their wings, which lets them avoid the physical superiority of a drakon, and their resistance to magic and their own magical capabilities turn the odds in their favor so that a dragon will beat a drakon. But it would not be an easy fight. Drakons have less magical resistance, yes, but their scales are thicker and their bones are heavier. Their tails are longer and stronger, although without the tail blades of the dragons. So while a non-adult dragon can beat a non-adult drakon even an adolescent drakon was a threat to any non-draconic species. Although, if both the dragon and a drakon are adults of equal age, say about 2,000, then it would all depend on how skilled and how much raw power they had. If I was to guess, the Drakon King and the Dragon King himself, not one of the smaller Lords, if they fought off against each other then the Drakon King would win nine times out of ten by virtue of his higher rate of magic expulsion allowing for him to overcome the Dragon King's natural resistance to magic. The Dragon King wouldn't have enough magic to compete. Physical power wouldn't be a large factor into this battle, their scales were both nigh-impenetrable, although a dragon has slightly thinner scales.
Another thing worth mentioning would be the dragon and drakon government systems. The dragons were a lot more advanced in this regard compared to the drakons. While the drakon had one king that was determined by raw power that every drakon would have to report to, similar to the wyverns, the dragons had numerous "Lords" dotted all over Liogella that each reported to the one high Dragon King. The King was the oldest, non-senile dragon alive.
The reason for their absurd strength is the reason that all draconics are strong - that they are born in fire. And I do mean this literally. Each of the draconic are attuned to two of the four base elements - Earth, Air, Water, Fire. All draconics are attuned to Fire and an additional element. Earth and Fire is the formula that makes a drakon. Fire and Fire make a dragon - how this works is beyond even me. Fire and Water make a serpent, Fire, and Air makes a wyvern. The subclasses of serpents and wyverns - the draconequi, the quetzalcoatls, all are attuned to some sub-elements but they're not nearly as relevant. The Quetzalcoatls were gone so long ago that their existence is actually debatable. Sadly, they are very, very real. But all of these creatures are draconic, and were born in fire - the eggs and wombs of all female draconics are filled with liquid as hot as lava. The details of why this happens are beyond me, I've never cared to look into my own biology, but the effects of it are noticeable. Stronger, heat resistant draconics.
My birth was unspectacular. There was no surge of magic, a celestial event, prophecy or oracle, special visitor or any unique circumstances - rather, my father fertilized my mother, who laid eight eggs in a cave. This was probably the most noticeable feature of my birth, eight eggs were uncommon. Not unheard of, but merely uncommon. The usual amount was five, and the highest ever recorded was twenty. So while this was notable, it wasn't especially special. Inside the egg, I was barely sapient, only able to feel three things. Warmth, my eggshell, and magic. I was the first to hatch - a small, scaleless and pink-fleshed drakon that was especially on the runty side. Six stumps on my head where my horns would eventually grow.
My mother was the first person who was affectionate towards me. Making sure I was comfortable, helping me carve the stone into a place to rest. She was silent, for what needed to be said? Saying "I love you," would be irrelevant for that love was evident through her actions. The fact that she cared for me and didn't feed me to the wolves (a metaphor, the wolves were reclusive and weren't fond of eating sapients) was proof of her love enough. The first time my mother had spoken to me was after all my siblings had hatched over the course of my first month. A drakon is born defenseless, with no magic or no scales. They cannot move or live unassisted. Over one month, their scales grow in and they are able to move,.My scales were a pearly white, a stark contrast to the lava red of my mothers. And as such, my mother turned to me when my scales had finished growing, and spoke-
"Help." And what else could I do but oblige? My mother had cared for me, dedicated her time to me. I couldn't say no, even if I wanted to. My mother had to lead me to a forest near our cave and taught me how to hunt. I'd be lying if I said I was fascinated by hunting, and I'd be lying still if I said I was particularly gifted at it. It was something done out of necessity. My mother taught me not to hunt for fun, not to satisfy an urge to kill or to test myself, but rather to kill what I needed and nothing more. My scales had grown in, but they were still a bit on the softer side. Despite this, they were still able to withstand the force of most non-sapient creatures, and especially with my mother's aid, I was able to hunt effectively enough. Lack of magic made it more difficult, but it wasn't especially challenging. To spare you the details - my mother and I hunted some wild boar together, and then allowed me, under her supervision, to gather a rabbit for myself. She brought back a meal for herself alone too, some kind of large eel.
I and my mother returned home to the sleeping hatchlings, my mother using a spell of flame to cook the meat and the scent of the food wafting into the sensitive noses of the drakelings. A drakeling is not just a dragon, mind you - a wyvern child, a quetzalcoatl child, a windigo child, a drakon child, a dragon child, all draconic children are under the term "drakelings." We laid the food for the hatchlings to eat, cutting it into smaller pieces before letting them tear at it with their mouths and claws, their legs quivering under their own weight as they struggled to move. I looked up at my mother, and she looked down at me. She cared for me, and I cared for her. That was our relationship. What point in there were words? It has always been strange to me that ponies express so much of their emotion in words, art, and poetry. A concept I don't think I'll ever get, even my age, as great as it is.
Sadly, this was not meant to be forever. As the dawn of my second year of life grew, I was the oldest, but still the smallest of my brethren. We had relocated to a cave closer to Mt. Draelos, a mountain with caverns filled with crystal and surrounded on two sides by forest. Half the forest was forbidden to go to, under the order of the drakon King himself, King Bellum. The reason for this had something to do with the mystic chains that surrounded each of the trees, binding them to the ground, and resulting in the quirk that every aspect of the forest was controllable and malleable. The clouds could be moved, the weather controlled...in Bellums eyes, this was a perversion of nature and adapting to this way of life would make the drakons weaker as a species.
Ah, yes, forgive me, little Spirit. My old mind wanders to unimportant details. I was the oldest, but still the smallest of my brethren, now in Mt. Draelos, the central hub for all drakons. While my six brothers and one sister were off playing with the other drakon litters, I had remained faithfully by my mothers' side. While I had affection for all of my brethren, especially my sister and my littlest brother, that affection was almost out of necessity. The only true love I felt would be the love I felt for my mother, much to her...disappointment. And then one day, while I was sitting by her side, she walked into her cavern room and used a boulder to block me from entering. I thought it to be cruel at the time, but now? I see the value in her actions.
So, I took to exploring. There was no danger anywhere nearby save for the Chained Forest, which was strictly forbidden. I crawled amongst the mountainside, looking and exploring for caves filled with my brethren - not my siblings, but others of my species until I reached the summit and found three drakonesses resting under the shade of a tree.
Drakons have no names until they have earned their names. My mother - Pulsera, earned her name by creating a spell of luminescence. Bellum earned his name through the Draconic Wars, a full-fledged conflict of the most powerful draconic species fighting against one another, with the drakons only surviving through Bellum's prowess and strategy. I did not have my name earned at this time, so as I rested down on my stomach by the other drakonesses I did not introduce myself. Rather, I opened with a simple greeting. My mother was not talkative, nor was the rest of my family, but all drakons are born with full knowledge of the draconic tongue. The ponies...I believe a permanent spell of All-Speak is placed on them when they earn their mark, but that is beside the point. The details of the conversation are lost to me, but it had a great big deal to do with food, and what tasted best with what. The talk of food had left a hunger deep within our bellies - not out of necessity, but out of wanting. While two of the drakonesses stood up, I and another one looked at each other uncomfortably. We had likely been taught the same way - not to hunt out of want. Purely out of need. As the two drakonesses left, I turned to the remaining drake and spoke. This conversation I remember vividly, for how could I not?
"I'm hungry," I spoke quietly. She nodded. "I am too." And we were silent for a time, staring at one another. She was taking in my white scales, while I examined her light red scales. Not quite pink, but not quite red. They were quite nice. After a moment, I spoke once more. "Do you have a name?" She was surprised for a moment before she shook her head. "No. I am Sogrisdottir." The daughter of Sogris - a name I vaguely recognized. I tilted my head to the side, an unsaid exchange going between us. "A royal mage. You might have heard of him." My eyes widened. A drakon mage was not unheard of, quite the contrary. Some of the greatest mages in history were drakons. But they were still highly valued for their wisdom and their magical prowess. "I am Pulseradottir," I added after a moment of stunned silence. She tilted her head to the side, thinking for a moment before she shrugged. "I don't recognize her. I'm sorry." I shrugged. "It's fine." No, my mothers' name wasn't well recognized or important. That didn't matter to me.
That was the part of the conversation I remembered best. From that perspective, too - that was the first time I had truly bonded with someone that wasn't my mother, and through which I learned the value of conversation. While expressing feelings with words is still irrelevant to me, meaningless, I can understand the value in communication and learning. Sogrisdottir and I rested there in silence, not speaking any more for there was nothing that needed to be said. My eyes wandered to the azure sky, the pearly white clouds and the green lands below us. And for the first time in my life- I saw beauty.
It was almost enough to make me ignore the growing dread in my stomach.
It had been a long, long time since I met Sogrisdottir. Or at the least, it seemed like a long time. Compared to now, it would just be a blink. Time is such a strange thing. A powerful force, but what truly is it? It is even a force? I don't believe I've met the Spirit of Time, or heard of them. Is it just a concept that the races created? If so, then how would time travel spells work? ...Forgive me, my mind wanders still - this is not relevant. It had been a long time since I met Sogrisdottir. We were both still young drakonesses at the time. Sogrisdottir was only at nine years of her life, while I had just hit my tenth. The first fifteen years of a drakons life are the most important of all. Over a month, a drakon gains the ability to walk and their scales. Their ability to speak during their first year. They continue to grow rapidly until their tenth year, where their horns sprout and their magic is accessible, and where growth continues steadily but slowly.
Males and female drakons both have horns, but males only have four while females have six. There are some other slight differences noting between males and females - males have larger magic pools, fewer horns to cast from, and are generally larger and more physically powerful. Females have smaller magic pools but more horns to cast from, but their claws are sharper and tails are stronger and prehensile. However, females tend to be more aggressive than the males and guard their young in the same manner a dragon would guard their hoard.
I was on a hunt when it happened. My littlest brother, Loris, who had earned his name early for being a prankster was sick and required food. My mother asked me, the eldest, to help. Not with words, however. My mother rarely spoke. Rather, she just looked at me, and that was all I needed. Loris was small, even smaller than me which was strange considering my premature hatching and the fact that I was a drakoness. His favorite food was cow and rabbit, so I planned to get him one of both. The rabbits I chased down easily enough, but during the cows is when it happened. As I pinned the cow down to the ground, preparing to tear its throat out...I felt the worst pain I had ever felt in my life at the time. Concentrated at the bumps at the top of my head, I likely would have been able to recognize what it was if it wasn't for the excruciating pain. My screams must have been loud and long, for when my mother came to me my throat tasted of iron and my senses were alight with flame. I could feel the energy sparking off of me, running down my scales and sparking off my flesh. My vision began blackening before I saw two large figures come into view. Light red scales, and vibrant blue scales. And then I saw nothing.
It wasn't somewhere familiar that I woke up. Not any place I knew, but I did know the other drakons there. I was laying down on a bed of rock that had been carved into the ground, my head resting on a "pillow," a soft cushion that the ponies used to rest their heads on. Strange, but it was a better alternative than having my horns scrape against the rock. As I weakly moved to push myself up, a strong voice called out to me.
"Hail, Pulseradottir." My eyes moved upwards as my muscles failed me and I collapsed onto my stomach. A large drakon, even larger than my mother of four hundred years of life. He was a bit on the scrawnier side, however. He had five horns - strange, drakons almost always had four or six, which depended on gender. Stranger still was the fact that he had wings.
Drakons did not have wings. The same way unicorns did not have wings - but Winged Unicorns existed, halfbreeds between Unicorns and Pegasi. The active magic of a Unicorn and the flight of a Pegasus. Dragoons were rare, probably the rarest subspecies of draconics but they were not entirely unheard of, but to meet one in the flesh was breathtaking. This also explained the fifth horn in the center of his head. Dragons almost always had two horns, but a single horn or a third horn in the center of the head similar to a unicorn was common enough that it wouldn't be shocking or breathtaking to see it.
"Your horns have grown in." He nodded. "How do you feel?" His head tilted to the side inquisitively. I was silent for a moment before I managed to force the words out of me - "mm...uhm. Ow." Internally, I smacked myself on the head, and externally I winced at the thought of smacking my sensitive horns. The dragoon's lips curled into a smile as he laughed. "Yes, ow is what I imagined you'd feel. But I'd like you to be a bit more precise than that." I nodded in response, mouth still slightly parted at the shock of seeing a dragoon and speaking for the first time in Maker knows when.
"Do you feel your magic?" He stated it like it was simple, but the question confused me. Yes, I had magic. All creatures had magic - a week without magic and a creature would die, their organs failing before they melted into soup. But then I paused as I considered the terms of the question. Do you feel your magic? I hadn't ever felt something inside me before. Was I supposed to? Was he speaking about the pool of magic that creatures use through active magic? I searched within myself and felt something. I felt that same thing flow through me, pulse through my body and leak out through my horns, a spark striking the air and smelling like ozone. The dragoon stared at me before nodding. "I'll take that as a yes." I nodded in response once more.
I don't remember exactly what happened next. He seemed interested especially in what I felt, but asking someone who just gained a sixth sense what they were feeling would be like asking a blind person to describe sight to you. This leads to the questions taking a long time, but the Dragoon didn't seem to mind. I do vividly remember what he said to me afterward, though.
"My name is Sogris. You're probably quite confused so I'll explain to you exactly what happened. Your horns came in early - surprisingly early. Early enough to warrant me coming to investigate. Only two days after your tenth year of life. Your horns are abnormally sensitive, and using magic will probably hurt you until your scales grow in around the ley." Ley was the reason that horns were able to use magic. They were thin, crystalline structures that were able to channel magic. Scales grew around their bases and keratin around their shafts in the draconics, but ley itself was very sensitive. It's why snapping the horn of a unicorn is that painful. "Your hold on your body-" I probably looked confused, so he took the time to explain, "the latent magic protection that prevents you from being killed internally or moved telekinetically, has also developed early."
"What does this all mean?" I spoke out, finally able to form a coherent sentence. Sogris fluttered his wings as he stared down at me. "Your source has already developed a clear affinity. Air, Chaos, Light. You're going to get your name."
Magic is composed out of ten elements, in three groups. Fire, Earth, Water, Air, are the base elements. Astral, Chaos, Void, Order are the mystic elements. Light and Darkness are pure elements. Each species' source, their internal pool of magic is attuned to three of these elements, one from each type. The surprising thing about this is that affinity didn't develop until magic had been used for the first time, but for some reason mine had. I didn't know what to make of this. Furthermore, my name was about to be given to me. A drakon's name is something of great importance, a process the King oversees himself.
So my mind and body reached an agreement to do the reasonable thing, and I fainted.
This time when I awoke, I knew exactly where I was, and that frightened me much more than not. I was in the Hall of Names, the cavern from where King Bellum himself was born. The Hall was impossibly smooth, the walls lined with thick marble with golden runes carved into them. The ground was made of large, equally thick pale limestone tiles. I pushed myself up to my full height, still significantly smaller than the marble pillars with eternal golden flames upon them that lined the pathway. And at the end of the pathway, I saw him. The pathway leads up to stairs where the drakon would sit as their name was given to them, their mother by their side - and their King in front of them.
To call him massive would be an understatement. Drakelings were the size of cats, drakes the size of ponies, and a drakon the size of a house. I was in the sweet spot between a drake and a drakon. My mother was significantly larger than this, about 100 feet tall. Bellum was probably more than ten times her size, absolutely massive and likely unable to leave the Hall of Names due to his sheer size. His jaws were something out of a nightmare, the force that crushed mountains, claws so wickedly sharp that looking at them could cut you. His scales were a blood red, four curled horns with rings around them on his head and his eyes. His eyes were pure red save for their pupils, which were pinpricks of pure white. His left eye was slightly duller than his right eye, and scratches adorned his scales. His voice rumbled throughout the cavern, shaking it as he spoke - "Come, and stand before me so that I may gaze upon your features unassisted. My eyes are old, girl, older than you can know." His voice was angry, but clearly not at anything. It seemed to be angry that just existed for the sake of anger. Despite how loud his voice was, it was clear that he was speaking calmly without letting the anger change his volume. But despite this, I was scared. King Bellum was a figure of myth.
He was said to be the physical incarnation of hatred and war itself. He was said to be the reason the ponies feared the draconics, and why the dragons were weak and in hiding. He was claimed to have single-handedly wiped the draconequi off the map, then the quetzalcoatl too. His power and presence were said to be so great that the Maker herself had to put an end to it.
But my King had given me an instruction, my mother staring at me silently while waiting for me to comply. So comply I did. With quivering legs and a pain atop my crown, I began slowly walking towards Bellum and my mother. His eyes began to lose their glow, their pupils turning black and the sclera turning white. His irises were still a vibrant red. And he began to examine me. I could feel his sight on me, crawling over my skin and taking in each detail of my body. He nodded, smirked, and spoke.
"I know who you are. You don't, yet, but you will. I see it written upon your magic, upon your essence, upon your bones and scales and eyes. You will bring tremendous destruction-" my flesh paled at this, my eyes wide, "but not for destruction's sake, rather for that is your nature. You will bring destruction, and destruction will bring change, and change will lead to peace. I see it, yes, I see it in you." My joints were locked, my eyes gazing on Bellum as he rose up to full height. The cavern cracked and rumbled, my mother stepping back and as for the first time in a long time, Bellum's neck rose up and his head reached the top of the cavern.
"I, Bellum Droksson of the Endless Blood, name YOU, Tempest." He roared out thunderously, with such volume that I was actually pushed backward. His eyes shut as his horns began glowing. "Be gentle, but strong. Be kind, but fierce. Be flexible, but stalwart. Do these things, Tempest Pulseradottir, and you will bring honor to the drakons."
I didn't know what to say. Clearly, my mother didn't either, as she nodded at the king then took me and left.
And this,
"is where our story truly begins." The large being spoke. "You've already said that." Her companion stated, arching an eyebrow.
"Ah. Have I?" The draconic said as she stroked her chin with two claws. The draconic looked a bit downfallen. But ever the optimist, she perked back up, eyes glowing as she spoke with renewed vigor.
"But that was merely an exaggeration, little princess. This is where our story does TRULY begin. For it was this after my name was given to me, my magic began to grow and my life would change forever more." The draconic spoke. The pony leaned in closer, a quill forming as the spirit listened intently.
"For this is my story." Tempest spoke. For Tempest was her name.
TRANSCRIBED BY THE ORDER OF HER ROYAL MAJESTY CELESTIA INDOMITA, THE UNCONQUERED SUN
Queen of Storms
A story by Via
-
Stats
Page generated in 0.027 seconds
Total duration
800 users online
668,464 hits today, 2,054,621 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
I'm not sure where this wandering musing about divinity, spirits and drackons is going, but let's see if I understand this all.
>Spectrum of divinity:
-Lowest would be a non-sentient being with no shard of divinity.
-Then a sentient being with an unawakened spark of divinity.
-Then if a sentient awakens their spark (somehow), they become a spirit which exists simultainiously in the physical and magical realms.
-And highest would be a god like Celestia.
>Spirits are manifestations/personifications of ideas/concepts (like love, harmony, war) that were once regular sentient beings.
>Spirit War/ the Fall
-A long time ago in a land called Liogella Discord (the spirit of chaos) bound (statue'd) the spirit of Order, then "killed" a bunch of spirits.
-This caused the once harmonious land of Liogella to shatter and fall.
THEN WHAT WAS THAT EXPOSITION DUMP ABOUT?!
Say what you want, Tempest is butthurt that her mom never told her she loved her! She's envious of the pony way of communicating, wishing to have a more verbal affirmation of her existence.
This paragraph could use some readability reworking.
i.ibb.co/DwqvcfG/Drawing-3.png
10866313
Your ideas are mostly correct - but a Spirit is essentially the manifestation of their Sphere. Using, Discord as an example, he quite literally is Chaos. The physical manifestation of the magical concept of Chaos.
The terms "Divine", "God," and "Spirit" are used interchangeably throughout the story - there's no distinction between a God and a Spirit.
Edited that last paragraph a bit! And I love that diagram.