The Black Dragon

by Slendy

Wyvern of Destiny

"White and gold."

"Blue and black."

The Lucario sporting a red bandana felt his brow twitch, ears folding downward, "How, how is it even remotely - hold on, you don't get a say, half your vision is covered by your bangs!"

The bat pony beside him scoffed under her royal-blue hood, blowing said bangs, "How do you get a say when your sense of fashion is as wide as a pebble?"

Zen crossed his arms. "I'm a human that got Isakaied and turned into a Lucario, your argument is invalid."

"'I-sa-ki-ed'? Wha-?" Yui ran her wing down her muzzle, groaning, "Again with the references! No one else gets them but you!"

Not far away, a person observed. Human in appearance compared to the many equines passing by the odd couple who continued to argue about the colors of a dress behind a shop window. It brought a gentle smile to their lips that they were doing well, these kinds of moments were ones to treasure. With a click of their fingers, the figure vanished before they were spotted, not that they cared.

When that light faded back the world was that of a mirror, rather, like the ground was a thin layer of water, refracting the boundless sky and radiant dawn on the horizon. Sat alone in the middle of this mirror was an isolated island, flora blossomed on its grassy shores, an ancient willow tree's vines gently swaying in a silent breeze, revealing through the lush green tethers the person, a woman, sat by the foot of the tree, comfortably nestled between two of its roots, a book open on her lap.

She wore whites, her brown, woven boots, swinging left and right as she skimmed the pages with silky fingers, and while her eyes were obstructed by a golden scarf that moved in tangent with the tree, the words were as clear as this otherworldly realm. Brushing her marigold bangs from her face she continued, speaking to nothing yet everything like a mother to a child, finger gliding down the words aged by its era. Merely feeling the echoes of those once present at the signing of this tome gave her a subtle shiver. Death.

The words of a native tongue spoke of weapons that would forever inflict conflict, cause the ground to tremble. Some would wail songs, turning light to twisted darkness. Others would inflict wounds never to heal, some draining the life around it to satisfy the eternal spirit shattered within. Parts of hide would meld to their wearers, they became stronger yet fell to whispers of desires for more, driving them to insanity, yearning for bloodlust and death.

Above all else, one piece stood out, the memories coming to life while she spoke, conjuring a world familiar to her eyes, and one she least expected to see again.

"Hasn't there been a song stuck in your head? A song sung by children all across the land? A song with soul," The text began. "Sung diligently in the streets and in the alleys, what is that song? The Legend of Death-" The world around her darkened as she read further. "-Death by a giant wyvern has been revived, it is the Legend of the Black Dragon."

"Everyone should know it as it is based on a famous fairy tale, however, I think the fact that everyone is singing this song is actually a sign," Whoever wrote this tome meant it as both a grim warning and of a final plea to those that would regrettably never learn of its secrets, "They say children are always the first to foretell the changing of the world, they are said to have a special sense for these kinds of things."

"I have gathered as much information as I could from all possible points across this world, to tell of this tale that is merely shrugged off as myth, sadly, no one believes me," The woman sighed at that, how many worlds have fallen due to that single strand of doubt? It was endless to try and recall. "So I begged for a mere few pages in hunting to express this, to inform all that are willing to learn the Legend of the Black Dragon."

"It is said that it exists everywhere in many forms and reimagined context but the base tale remains the same, the song's meaning is unaltered, so, allow me to share with you this melody, while it is not a joyous one and while the context may change depending on where you are, the message remains unchanged." The final page in the tome stung her fingers the most, and a faint, black miasma lingered on the notes, as though a spell awaiting a voice to enchant it.

When the world is full of wyverns
The legend is revived
Meat is eaten, Bone is crunched.
And blood is sucked up dry
He burns the earth
And melts through iron
He boils the rivers
And mows down trees
He awakens the winds
And lights an inferno
He is called Fatalis
The wyvern of destiny
He is called Fatalis
The wyvern of destruction

Call for help
Run for your lives
And don't forget to pray to the skies
He is called Fatalis
The wyvern of destiny
He is called Fatalis
The wyvern of destruction
Fatalis, Fatalis
Heaven and Earth are yours
Fatalis, Fatalis
Heaven and Earth are yours

Once her words were spoken, gone was the radiant realm she took comfort in, replacing her calm exterior for one of critical thinking. Even as her spirit traveled through lost memories even she felt that which still cursed the tome in her hands, that same cold emptiness was alive in these memories, and was beginning to awaken in this downpour in the dark skies beyond.

Author's Note:

Just a small something I wish I added from the beginning to drive home the rather dark tone this small story is meant to sell. I wormed my way through small snippets from weapon text to find more accurate depictions of what this monster is capable of, even in death, or some would like to believe. To those that are new, enjoy this retelling of a Legend.

While this is a small story set before Indomitable, you don't need to read it to understand this story