A Burning Flame In My Soul

by Rated Ponystar

Chapter 4

Despite what other creatures believed, different dragons existed in the world. After the downfall of the Dragon Empire, many dragons split off into different clans and spread across the earth. Some managed to create small kingdoms that eventually died out or were absorbed into the greater Dragon Land kingdom.. The Dragon Land kingdom was one of two stable dragon nations that had managed to last all these years, with the other being Shangri-La, a dragon kingdom to the east that few knew or even visited. It was where his beloved Dájǐ-Lǐ had come from, and he was surprised to learn just how long it had lasted and prospered under the rule of her family's lineage.

And then there were the Independent Clan Dragons. Dragons who either refused to join with other kingdoms or were exiled to the outskirts of the world. They were the dragons most creatures ended up meeting as they would fly or make a home not far from the other cities or towns. Most of them would leave them alone. Others demanded tribute for peace. Some just did whatever they wanted and burned the town or ate the residents for meat, and a few rare ones offered to be their protectors for gems with permission to settle down. Every clan of dragons was different, and more so for independent ones.

To unite so many under one banner was a feat of accomplishment any creature would admire, which is why the Dragon Lord was seen as the mightiest and most respected dragon among most if not all clans. Tyranus had done a similar feat, and he needed no Blood Scepter to do so. He had been training and learning from one of the independent clans related to them by blood when the letter came telling him of his family's downfall. The injustice of having everyone but that bastard killed for doing their duty in eliminating a weak and pathetic dragon lord for the glory of their people. Tyranus rarely cried, but he would not deny he wept in despair for his father, mother, uncle, and all the other members of his clan that he loved. He swore he would avenge them and took his father's final words to heart, and for twenty years, he had thought nothing but vengeance.

Walking through the large war camp, dragons of all sizes, from small to large, bowed to Tyranus as he walked past them. He nodded to his troops sometimes but mostly ignored them, focusing on making his way to the enormous war tent to talk to the leaders of the major clans he had managed to get under his wing. A clan of dragons was something to fear. An army of forty-seven dragon clans was enough to make any creature crap themselves, especially against a force of two hundred and fifty thousand dragons. Many of these had followed him because they were allies with those Tryanus had won over the years, but over time they were won over by his strength and his vision for dragonkind.

There were many dragons out there that had been disgusted to learn how weak dragons had become under Dragon Lord Ember's rule. Instead of conquering the other races, they were now friends with them. The once pathetic subjects of a great empire had managed to force the noble dragon race to become their equals when thousands of years ago, they were subjected to their betters. The world was one where the strongest survived and the weak submitted or perished. This was the law of nature and to go against nature was futile.

Of course, the alliance that Ember had made was a problem in another way. Tyranus had hoped to spend at least another hundred to two hundred years gathering support and allies for his bid to take over the Dragon Lands. Mainly because the most powerful clans were too great for him to win over currently, and he would fail quickly without more prestige in their eyes. Clans like Goldenhammer, Serpenteye, Woodwind, and Mountainburn were beyond him because of their strength and size. Plus, many had been friendly with the last Dragon Lord, Torch, and would not go against his daughter unless by force. He was still young in the eyes of most dragons, but he was smart enough to plan how he would get his army. Smaller clans and powerful middle-ranged ones based on alliances were how he got his current army quickly in twenty years. It helped that the first clan to join him was related to him by blood and had a trustworthy reputation.

From there, it was a matter of proving himself through strength, cunning, and wisdom. He had to win them over through combat, trials, tests, and favors. But in the end, all of these dragons in his army would die for him. For he had their hearts with his vision, passion, and honor. Of course, some joined of their own free will as they grew more prominent in numbers. Strength attracted strength, after all. Many smaller clans joined at the prospect of glory and combat, others did so out of honor and duty, and a few were...there for less savory reasons.

Not every clan was one that Tyranus wanted to have join him, but he needed the numbers. Especially when the Dragon Lands joined the Alliance of Harmony. That had changed everything. Going to war against the Dragon Lands was one thing. Going to war against multiple races was insane. Weak as they were in Tyranus's mind, even he knew that the other races had advantages that were not to be underestimated should they unite against them. What's worse was that Ember had opened the borders for independent and exiled dragons to return to their home and start a new life and many clans did, thus increasing their numbers and denying Tyranus more to his cause.

Tyranus wasn't an idiot nor suicidal. What he needed was a new plan. That's when he learned about the blade of the First Dragon Emperor, Imperiax. A sword so powerful, made by the gods themselves, that even the Legendary Elements of Harmony were nothing compared to its power. It was one of the few remaining powerful objects of the Ancient era to survive, and if he had it, Tyranus would be unstoppable. Not just because of the blade's power, but because it would be symbolic. It would show destiny had chosen him to bring a new future for the dragons and rebuild the old empire they lost. Not even the power of the Blood Scepter would be enough to stop him, and the dragons would quickly obey him as the new Emperor of Dragons.

Of course, it was a legend in itself. One that Tyranus spent at least four years trying to find proof of its location. The sage had been the key to finding the final clue. Now he was to go to the unknown continent in the west to achieve his dream. Entering the large red and golden war tent, the large map of the world stood before him while six dragons went silent upon seeing him.

He stared at them one by one as they stood in attention. The first, to his left, was the largest of them, all standing the average height of an adult dragon with blood-red primary scales and black secondary scales. His horns were large and sharp, wings wide enough to cover the entire war tent, but what stood among them all was his armor. It was dark red steel with scars and dried blood scattered around in various locations as the armor protected his chest, wings, spine, legs, and neck with the signs of aged battle. There were two large spiked axes with skull cross guards and blood-red handles by his side. The infamous Butcher and Slaughter were always to be in the hands of the leader of Clan Warblood, in this case, his great distant uncle Scarscale.

They were the first to swear allegiance to Tyranus's cause to avenge his family, for they were of kin, even if exiled. Battle was what they craved, and war was in their blood. They were the mightiest force in his army and were experts in tactics and warfare. They were not just a clan but an army that fought for the chance to face the strongest of enemies with their blood-red armor, weapons, and fire that burned fields to ashes. Death in battle was an honor, and they were fought with integrity—no dirty tricks. No deceptions. Just good old-fashioned guts and courage. If a dragon of Warblood were too old or sick, they would get a final death in combat before getting full honors at their funeral. They were the clan Tyranus trusted most, and his Uncle Scarscale was his greatest advisor.

Next to him was also an adult dragon, but just a few feet smaller than Uncle Scarscale. Unlike the red dragon, this one, Nightsteel, was of green primary scales and black secondary. He might not have been as tall as the previous dragon, but he was bigger due to the size of his armor. Black obsidian steel covered every part of his body from tail to head that he forged himself. It was part of the test every member of Clan Blackforge went through: to craft a perfect set of armor that they were to present to their master. Success would mean adulthood and welcome into the clan. Failure was outright execution with your body buried with your poor quality armor used as a tombstone. Clan Blackforge had once been part of the great clan with three Dragon Lords in their history. Unfortunately, they had built the weapon that killed a Dragon Lord, and his family unjustly believed the clan to have had a hand in his death. Clan Blackforge fled and exiled themselves, while those who stayed were punished severely save for a small secondary bastard line that became Clan Blackjaw as a reward for their loyalty.

Clan Blackforge was among the best for forging weapons and armor. They were vital in keeping his army well equipped and maintaining their equipment to top standard. They traveled with their forges, and every member of the clan learned how to generate their gear and wield it. Tyranus promised to welcome them back to the Dragon Lands once he was made Emperor and eliminate the bastard bloodline that chose to bow before those who accused them of a crime they didn't commit.

The next one stood out among all the other dragons as she was one of the three females in the tent and looked more like a princess than a warrior since she was looking at herself in a blue crystal mirror. She was Tyranus's size but golden in primary scales while white in secondary scales. A pure silverish-blue robe with diamond embedding was around her body with diamond rings piercing her ears and jeweled gems decorating her digits and wrists as either rings or bracelets. Even her tail had a gem-encrusted red bowtie around it. Her face was one most females would be envious of, thanks to her sleek and pretty scales, gazing eyes, and lovely nose. Rumor even had it that male dragons came to her tent for pleasure and fun every night. A platinum crown said to belong to the Princess Platinum—modified for her size—stood on her head to remind every dragon that she was Queen Mara of Clan Everbling.

Her appearance was no surprise to anyone, as everyone in her clan was obsessed with jewels, gems, gold, silver, and crystals. They were more of a marauder group than an actual clan, but they were the best thieves and treasure hunters among dragons. Although they ate gems like most dragons, they prided on having the best and showing off their loot. The bigger and rarer the prize, the more they desired it. They were the purest essence of dragon greed and the most distrusted, as they stole from everyone—even other dragons. Although Tyrus loathed having them among his ranks, they had their uses in their dishonorable ways. Plus, they were great at raiding.. All they asked was the right to take a good portion of any good priceless treasure they found and the chance to raid the Crystal Empire. It was a lifelong dream that they had failed many times.

Another female stood next to Queen Mara, but she was the opposite as night was to day. While Mara had been pretty, colorful, and smiled with greedy eyes, her counterpart, Lichie, was covered in black rags to hide most of her purple primary scales to the point that her secondary's were unknown. From the waist up, her entire body was clothed and protected by almost shadowy silk leather that seemed alive in some ways. Lichie's face was covered by a mask of gray rock, carved like a skull with runes carved into it that were alien to anyone by a member of one of the most feared dragons, Clan Deathclaw. She stood like a perfect assassin: motionless, focused, and ready for action despite her arms folded against her chest. She never spoke a word. None in Lichie's clan did. Rumor had it that, in exchange for the dark powers they gained from an unknown entity, they were forbidden to see in the day (Hence the mask) and could not speak. Tyranus knew very little of their clan other than they were the best assassins and night strikers he could find, but they came to him, pledging their allegiance.

This was both a boon and yet also a problem for Tyranus. On one claw, he had a clan of deadly assassins who could kill his enemies for him at his beck and command. On the other claw, he had no idea why they joined him or what they wanted. So he always made sure to keep his guard up. It was even worse that he couldn't see into Lichie's eyes thanks to the mask, which prevented knowing their intentions. Even Dájǐ-Lǐ could not sense their purposes, and her powers allowed her to look into the hearts of all.

Next was the wildest of the bunch, literally. For this dragon wore no armor, no jewels, and no weapons. They were primarily brown and secondary white, but their entire body was scarred with claw marks, bite marks, missing scales, dried wounds, and carved runes of a barbaric language beyond Tyranus. The dragon was male, a few feet higher than Tyranus but not even close to the tallest ones in the war tent. In his hands, he held the hide of a zebra that he was chewing on his face, covered with blood and other gut juices that he took in the pleasure of tasting before tossing the bones away. Although dragons could eat meat, most preferred jewels as they found them tastier. Grow'an'nawa of Clan Feralbite was not one of those. They were one of the very few but dangerous wild dragons who rejected all forms of civilization and modern lifestyle. They wore no clothing but their scales, used no metal but rock and wood, and had no weapons but their body and breath. They traveled and roamed, hunting, feasting, and fighting with no end. They were barbaric, but Tyrnaus wanted them.

They were best at scouting and surviving against the wilds. They were great hunters that could feed his army. They could scout and track troops and prey easily. And they wanted nothing more than to follow Tyranus due to him saving the son of their head clan when he visited their territory. A debt they all were willing to pay, and it would be paid upon him becoming Emperor. Their lifestyle did cause problems from refusal to work with technology by rejecting it. Anything "modern" such as steel and non-herbal medicine was not be used by them by their request, and they had poor hygiene, with more the one complaint being about the smell of their side of the camp. Especially since they refused to make latrines and just dedicated and urinated wherever they wanted, it got so bad that Tyranus had to force them to have a separate camp away from the rest.

Finally, there was the last one who was to Tyranus's left. Perhaps the second most loyal, if not zealous, of the major clans that joined them. She was Tyranus's size, of yellow primary and dark blue secondary scales, and was dressed in a light blue crystal robe that extended past her tail. A silverish-green cloak covered her head with a bright glowing staff of dark blue in her claw, with the rod showing a swirling white dragon with its tail at the bottom and the dragon's mouth at the top of the glowing, swirling orb of blue, green and gray. A similar color glowed in her eyes to show that the rare power of magic flowed through her body. Despite her size and youth, Ez'mira The Colorful was the most powerful of Clan Fatewing. One of the few dragons capable of casting magic. Long ago, the Dragons Empire were masters of the mystical craft with wonders and knowledge beyond even the unicorns of Equestria. Much magical knowledge was lost when the Dragon Empire fell, with very little saved. Clan Fatewing had dedicated itself to preserving and gathering all knowledge of magical dragon lore they could and mastering it. It was through their meeting that Ez'mira helped Tyranus learn of Imperiax.

Like others, she saw the potential of him becoming the Dragon Emperor. Through their magic, they were able to see the threads of fate itself and saw a dragon of great power holding the sword among a mighty army. A great burst of energy and light erupted, bringing a change in shifts of magic and power. This dragon would make a new world. One from blood and war, but in return would come glory and the salvation of the dragon race. Tyranus was to be this mighty champion. Fate and the gods had created it. But fate was constantly changing, and Tyranus was not going to risk it foolishly.

Clearing his throat, Tyranus soon spoke, "We've received word from our group in Valewind. The ships we have requested will be ready when our army arrives." He wished they could be faster, but the problem with having a horde their size was speed.

"Are we sticking to the plan then?" Nightsteel asked.

"Yes," Tyranus said as he moved the piece representing them on the board to one of the sea-faring cities on the far coast of the Griffin Republic. "Once we have all the ships, we raid and burn the town in a surprise attack. No witness. We must kill all of them to prevent even one from alerting the Republic of what we are doing. They'll find out what happened to the city eventually when they get no word from them, but by the time they do send anyone over, we'll be near the Minotaur's islands."

"I'm surprised that the shipping families agreed to build so many large ships with few questions," Scarsdale replied with a raised eyebrow.

"It helps that the bribe we gave them was large," Tyranus answered.

"You're welcome, by the way," Queen Mara said with a snort. "You're still giving us sixty percent of the families' wealth in compensation, right?"

Tyranus sighed and questioned the priorities but then remembered who he was talking to. "Yes, you will."

"And we get to eat as much as we want, right?" Grow'an'nawa asked, bloody teeth showing. "Been a long time since I had chicken."

"They're half-eagle and half-lion, moron," Queen Mara replied with a snort.

"Bird is bird. They all taste the same," Grow'an'nawa shrugged.

"Yes, every clan can indulge in their desires. The shipping town has a weak guard, and most of the Griffin Navy is dealing with the Siren pirates on the southern coast," Tyranus replied. "We just need to be quick and efficient about it."

"Agreed," Ez'Mira seconded as she waved her hand. A mystical illusion of the infamous red comet appeared overhead while images of the ships they were building sailed closer to the Minotaur islands on the map board. "It would be best to arrive near the shores of the Minotaur islands before the comet's powers come and clear the way to the unknown continent. No doubt, when its effect happens, the entire world will react. We must be ahead of all the other nations and make our way to it."

"We also need to make sure that we keep our army's a secret," Tyranus replied as he leaned forward and glared at each of them. "So far, our spies and the clans loyal to our cause have been keeping our presence a secret. Especially since Deathclaw faked my death seven years ago to keep Ember from realizing I'm alive." Lichie nodded in recognition of her clan's feat. "No doubt that when we get to the Minotaur Islands, they will see our large armada, and news of us will spread, but we should be on our way to the new continent when that news hits the Alliance. Once they even try to do anything to prepare a means to stop us, we'll be at the new world."

He then pointed in the direction of the continent. "However, I want us to have a base of operations when we land there. After we take over Valewind, I want some of the smaller clans to join up with members of Clan Blackforge, Warblood, and Feralbite to go ahead of us. Send your best-trusted clanmates with this task. I want a strong base and good knowledge of the surrounding area when I land with the rest of the army."

The six nodded in agreement as Nightsteel placed his gauntlet claw over his heart. "Allow me to go with them. I can build you a strong fort in less than a day when we arrive. I swear."

"Very well, Nightstell. You may go personally." Tyranus looked at the rest of them and nodded back. "That's all for tonight—spread word of our objectives to the rest of the clans. We move in the morning. Dismissed."

Every clan leader bowed and left except for Scarscale, who stood there with a smirk as his great-nephew looked up at him. "Are you nervous?"

"A little," Tyranus said as he took a water goblet and drank some of it. "I didn't expect to go on such an adventure to a place with little to no information. The last time dragons went there, nobody ever heard from them again. So yes, I am nervous."

"Good," Scarscale said as he put his large hand on Tyranus's head and gently patted it. "Saying you were without fear is stupid. All dragons have fear in their hearts. It's conquering that fear which makes us strong. Not denying it."

"I will do more than conquer," Tyranus said as he looked at the rest of the map and sighed with a soft smile. "I was content with just avenging my family and restoring the Dragon Lands to a proper setting with me as Dragon Lord. I didn't think I would be seeking to make myself an Emperor of our people, let alone the world."

"The gods move in strange ways," Scarscale said with amusement.

"Perhaps, but I just hope I am worth in the eyes of the Gods and the army I have united for my cause," Tyranus replied, rubbing his head. "Forty-seven clans. All who I have to keep in line with negotiations, bartering, threats, and sometimes violence."

"Good practice for a future emperor," a voice said as they entered the tent. He was Tyranus's height, with a similar scale color to his father, but with a more toned body and youthful face. His armor was similar to his father's but held no scars, so it looked brand new, showing his experience in battle. "Father. My Emperor."

"I'm not an emperor yet, Drono," Tyraus replied with a smirk. "You don't have to address me as one."

"Personally, I feel you are one already with how the dragons are talking about you," Drono chuckled as he shook his head. "They speak as if you were Emperor Kratorix reborn."

"That would be amusing, but I am just a dragon trying to do what is right for our race," Tyranus replied as he looked around the map and focused on Equestria. Specifically, Canterlot. "How fortunate that the leaders of the Alliance will be busy celebrating their unity when soon we will usher their downfall when we return in victory."

"Forgive me, but why not eliminate the leaders of the Alliance?" Drogo asked curiously. "Clan Deathclaw alone would take the task if you ask them."

"It's best for our enemies to not know of the existence of our group until it is too late for them," Tyranus replied, sighing as he turned to Drogo. "I know you want to face them, cousin. But we must do this smartly. Together the Alliance is more than enough to crush us."

"My son is just eager to take command and lead in a proper battle," Scarscale chuckled while Drogo blushed. "Ever since I have given him command of his own division, he has wished for a battle to test his leadership."

"Dad, come on," Drogo blushed.

"If you want one, I can give you one," Tyranus replied as he got his cousin's attention. "You can lead our first wave into Valewind. Take no survivors. Even the children and babies. Understood?"

Drogo saluted and smiled. "I won't let you down, sir."

Both Drogo and Scarscale soon left, leaving Tyranus to stare at the map board before him while clenching his fists. Soon, father, I will not just avenge you but bring clan Redskull to the highest of glory by becoming Emperor. I will make a kingdom of fire and blood where nobody, not even the Alicorns, will stop me.

He soon smirked upon feeling a familiar slithering of a warm and scaly body around his waist as his beloved Dájǐ-Lǐ appeared before him while kissing his neck a few times before his cheek. "I was hoping you could come to our tent after your meeting."

"I don't see why not," Tyranus whispered as he turned around, embraced his love, and kissed her lips. "You know...of all those by my side...you are the one I am happy to have the most."

"Do you remember what you whispered to me when I kissed you for the first time by the waterfall?" Dájǐ-Lǐ whispered.

"I said I was in a dream," Tyranus whispered as his happier and younger times played in his head. "Because there was no way you were real."

"And I whispered if this was a dream, then let us never wake," Dájǐ-Lǐ whispered as they pressed their heads together. "The gods meant for us to come together. Two betrayed and hurt souls seeking vengeance...and we vowed to have it or perish in shame."

"We will not perish," Tyranus growled as he held her and looked deep into her eyes. "We will destroy all those who hurt us. Your family. Ember and her friends. We will send them to their deaths screaming for mercy. We will be the new Emperor and Empress of this world, reborn in fire and war. One that our children will inherit and rein for tens of thousands of years. We will tear down the foundations of this pathetic and corrupt world to build a stronger one. One where dragons dominate once again as nature and gods intended. But I will only do this if you are with me. From here to the end."

Pressing him against the board, she began to remove his armor and whispered into his. "Always."

Author's Note:

God I loved making this chapter. World building and villain focus is fun to write. Please give your thoughts on the main clans. Refocusing on the heroes next chapter.

Please Help Out At the TV Tropes Page

Comments

[SuperSonicHeroes]

This was fun! You did a good job giving characterization and backstories to each of these different clans. Plus, all these clans have pretty badass names. Tyranus has a massive army, and the Alliance of Harmony has no idea what's coming.

It kinda feels like in a way, Tyranus and Dájǐ-Lǐ are a dark parallel to Ember and Spike. It seems like the two of them love each other just as much as Ember and Spike do, and Tyranus saying he wants Dájǐ-Lǐ by his side as they get their revenge together, similar to how Ember told Spike nothing she dreamed of would have been possible without him, right before both couples had some "fun" together.

Though it is clear this army of dragons are still the villains, this chapter helped to "humanize" them in a way by showing their motivations and why they have joined Tyranus.

[Snowy Helmet]

I like worldbuilding in general, and I certainly liked the worldbuilding you made in this chapter also. Each of these dragons was very interesting to learn about, both regarding the overall group and the individuals you show.

Tyranus certainly found himself quite the diverse group to join up with him against Equestria, and I admire the general dynamics you convey between him and the leaders. While it is true he is mostly accepted as leader and that the force as a whole is a very formidable threat to be reckoned with, there is something about the many differences between each individual group and their different wants that gives off the vibe that this alliance is one bad day away from being dissolved.

For plot reasons, I do think that such a thing won't happen, but Tyranus does look like he will have his claws full until he manages to get them on Imperiax. But once he has... I can only guess things will be bad, especially given there's a quarter of a million of them...

Regarding the characters... I commend you for making them so 'humane' and at the same time so disturbing. Scarscale sounds like a nice uncle and Drogo seems like he has a normal cousin bond with Tyranus, but then comes Scarscale's order to Drogo, and Drogo just goes along with it so willingly... it's seriously unsettling. It says a lot about the family that even this universe's version of Garble came across as moral and mentally balanced compared to most of them (the only other exception being Smolder).

Still... there is a very noticeable twisted sweetness between Tyranus and Dájǐ-Lǐ in the end. They're both very messed up beings, but they do seem to really love each other. If either of them dies before the other, I can only imagine the results won't be pretty.

Not pretty at all...