Plot: Havaak establishes himself as the figurehead Alpha of Dragneel to the other packs. He seeks their approval. Equestria tries to gather itself and progress. Twilight is still a simp for Celestia, even if she is more strict and less patient.
Havaak establishes himself as the figurehead Alpha of Dragneel to the other packs. To earn his official status, Havaak is placed in a proving grounds competition, he will have to fight equally ambitious Alphas. He seeks the elders’ approval, but they are suspicious of Ihkerah and her motives. Equestria tries to gather itself and progress, staggering under the weight of the outside world. Through the years, Twilight is still a simp for Celestia, even if she is more strict and less patient.
Eight eyes blinked in the darkness. They’re green light, dim and cold. Four horns sweeping back in wide arcs, bone melded with darkened scales. Claws clicked on the stone floor, polished to a veiled shine. Two long tails swept behind those legs, their scales scraping the floor. Mile-tall doors of aged dark oak, spread agape in the cool air, giving way to the immense hall.
“I FEEL A PRESENCE, ONE CLOSE AND YET FAR. MY VISITOR GLANCES AROUND THE DARK, SEARCHING FOR I…” The thunderous voice of the dragon murmurs to herself, slithering among the enormous pillars high above. The spines on her back grated the ceiling, claws as large as houses gripped the columns. “HE ANNOUNCES HIS ARRIVAL IN A CLAMBERING MESS, DULL CLAWS ON MARBLE. MARBLE, A TRIFFLE MINERAL TO THE WARGS… MASTERS OF THE EARTH AND METALS… MY SERVENTS. BUT YOU ALREADY KNOW THIS, LITTLE DEAR…”
Spike looked up into the shadows, the far, pale light blocked by the dragoness’ enormous body. Her scales a deep blue and midnight, all but her numerous eyes clung to the blackness. Where his eyes had only gained a second pair within then next age, his Mistress had revealed her true face. She was an Ahamkara, like him. He thought that fortune was with him when she’d shown the clan this fact, but, she seemed… annoyed?
The young drake watched as she descended, the whole side of her head draped in a wall of eyes. Dark smoke enveloped her, fading for him to see her much smaller form. Tall and strong. Slim and graceful.
Mistress Ihkerah stood before him, having only six pairs of eyes, draped in extremely long silk and furs. She smiled and sighed, visibly relaxing. “Now, what needs need I fulfill, my dear?”
“I-I… uh…” Spike stammered, fidgeting. “I had a question…”
“Oh? I may have the answer, my little hatchling.” Her smile widened, patting him on the head and flattening his fins.
Spike grunted, shrugging her hand off. “It’s been over fifty years; I think I’m old enough for you to stop calling me that.”
“Aw, can’t I? Such a leap in time is but a trifle thing to dragons.” She playfully pouted, giving him big eyes with a smirk. “After all, I’ll always see you as my little hatchling.”
He quietly snarled, looking away, embarrassed.
Her smile dropped as she stood taller, all eyes gazing on him in saddened and silent realization. “Do you still miss them?”
His heart fluxed, simultaneously grew cold and warm, shame turning to sorrow. “A little… I’m still mad, just…”
“You know they don’t have long left…” Spike nodded slowly. Ihkerah stepped closer and pulled him into a hug, her tail wrapping around his. "I grant your request, but don’t go alone.”
“I… I won’t.” He affirmed, welcoming her embrace. He snuggled into the fur collar she wore, a soft purr escaping him. “Also, I think I’ll want to see the Dragon Lands… to…”
“To speak with Ember? Why?” A hint of anger reared its head, but Ihkerah squashed it.
Spike nodded. “I… wanted to…” He stalled for a moment, deep in thought. “S-show off?”
“Dragon instinct. You are compelled to saunter about and parade your gained splendors.” She raised her arms and smiled, strolling around him in a circle to demonstrate. “Very well, for I would like to boast of your wonders too. I will accompany you there, but not Equestria. I shall wait until you are ready, O Hatchling Mine.~”
Spike breathed a sigh, finding himself happy. “Ok. I was thinking of bringing Greg and Maggie with me.”
“Oh, the power couple? How sweet.” She giggled, receiving a shove and a chuckle from her adoptive son. “But in all solemnity, a decent choice. Prudent, even.”
“Thanks, I’ll just grab my bag and we can go.”
“I will wait on the main road.” Ihkerah smiled as Spike raced off. Exiting her mansion on the mountainside, the dragoness waltzed down the winding road that neighbored the bubbling brook.
The village of Dragneel had expanded immensely these past fifty years. What was once wooden cottages and shacks, now stood tall stone and metal towers amongst the mountains. Her little Wargs had made their own style of housing, each tower equating to a single home. Floors stacked upon floors, each room with their designated purpose. The entryway and kitchen were usually on the first floor, the bedrooms and baths after that, then perhaps a crafting room or two. But some, like Havaak and Luna, had preferred the tiny cabins. So, the couple had made a reverse-tower. Instead of going up, the tower dug down, letting them enjoy their tiny home in the north of the valley, next to a small brook, the fields of giant wheat, and the Great Hall.
Small businesses had sprung to life, each with their own form of trade, many inspired by the Wargs’ original homeland. Ihkerah had found their overall story interesting, but she’d heard comparable ones before.
Thinking back, there were a few little creatures that came from worlds similar to what the Wargs had described. Humans, she remembered, sent by some pathetic deity or another to conquer their world. A few had even thought that they were saving the day… the fools. They were always being used. If she recalled, they had a name they always designated themselves with… what was it again?
Ihkerah’s thoughts were stalled by hearing a child’s laughter. She turned to find Spike, a bag of supplies strapped to his back, playing with several Warg pups. She smiled at the scene, finding Spike’s constant openness a comfort.
She continued watching as the two Wargs, Damian and Greg came up behind the young Ahamkara. Joining the three amongst the giggling pups, they all nodded and started their long trek. Apparently, Maggie had been busy enough that she couldn’t leave.
Watching all this with crimson and silver eyes, Gwen observed Damian taking his leave. She didn’t know how long he’d be gone, but she knew she would hold down the fort… assuming someone wasn’t stupid and burned the place down, or piss her off too much. Which, as things were going, she doubted the possibility.
“Kevin! Pay your fricking tab!! I’m not bringing a complaint to Havaak for something this stupid!” She slammed her fist down on the counter, flinging spit in the bronze Warg’s face.
“B-but my next paycheck isn’t until next week!” He bravely or foolishly mumbled an excuse.
Though most wouldn’t have heard his mumbles, Warg ears were very sensitive, so she heard him with no issue. Her taking this week’s excuse with a calm demeanor, however, that was the issue.
Her eyes narrowed; fangs clenched. The dimly lit room adding to the horrors behind those blood red and steal-silver eyes, she witnessed him shaking under her gaze.
“I-uh…” Knowing he was doomed to oblivion, Kevin decided to tell his overlord the truth. “I-I spent it… on—”
“On what, Kevin?! Another crate of imported spices? More old shields and armor?”
“B-But I like those armor sets… all I have left is the boots for the Fuur-kah set…”
“How many does this make again?” She asked, very annoyed as she dented the nearest mug with a clench of her hand. “45?”
“57…” He defended his collection. “And they’re not old. They’re well-used.”
“Pieces of scrap and trash. Next time, pay up or I’ll bring this little topic to Havaak. I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”
Kevin slouched. “Y-yes ma’am…”
Gwen could tell that he just wanted to end the conversation. She sighed, groaning as she stepped back and took a deep breath. Opening her eyes, she turned and reached for a bottle of her favorite amber-oak beer, Diver’s Brew. Pouring a small glass, she took a shot. The alcohol lightly burned her throat, bitter and smoky as she sighed. It was one of the few pleasures she had, and she loved to abuse it whenever she could.
Kevin had the audacity to cough in his throat and speak. “Uh… c-could I h-have a shot?”
And just like that, the little spark of joy in her eyes was gone. “No. Congrats, you’ve ruined my day further, Kevin.”
Seeing his mistake, he shut his snout and left. Gwen sighed in relief, taking another shot. She needed a hot bath.
Looking around the bar, she saw a few who sat alone in their seats, one small party off in the corner, and one over clocked Alpha. Havaak sat in another corner, nursing his mug of mead and several documents. Hunched over the mess of papers, he looked grim and tired.
Sighing at how pathetic he looked, she walked over with a stronger bottle of mead, one she reserved for after these kinds of days. Havaak’s ears twitched as she approached, looking up with his greyish blue eyes with golden rings. His fur an artwork of blacks and various greys, dressed in plain clothes, a wool and brown leather trench coat over that.
Scars decorated his body, surviving a disease that took his wings, leaving him with scar tissue and his life. The Alpha never hid his facial scars; four long slashes across his face. Gwen had thought that if he wasn’t claimed by Luna, she would’ve gone for him, had Damian not swept her away.
He smiled to Gwen as she came near, speaking in his practiced wording. Having become the Alpha, he’d felt that he needed to be better equipped in clever speech. So, Havaak had set to using his new wording throughout these past fifty years. “Greetings Gwen, how goes your day?”
Gwen found herself showing a small, almost nonexistent smile, even if she found his new way of speaking annoying. “Alright… though, Kevin hasn’t payed his tab yet… and still wants frickin’ more drinks.”
Havaak hummed, his voice rumbling as he took note of her displeasure. “I’ll have a talk with him when I can. Other than that, what else?”
“Nothing that I’ve heard, things have been quiet. Which is both refreshing and a drag through the mud…”
“Getting weary of the same… yelling matches?” He chuckled, but at Gwen’s frown, he choked it down. “A-anyways… you’ll be alright while Damian is away?”
She breathed a long sigh, feeling that besides Damian, Havaak was one of the few who she could be honest with. “Everything used to be exciting; battles, mysteries, new magics, and technologies. Everything nowadays just feels… stale.”
“Looking for a change in pace, are you?” He grimaced at his stack of papers.
She nodded, sighing with brows furrowed. Pulling out a small box from her sleeveless jacket, she retrieved a metal cigarette. Blowing into the packed tube, she lit it with her fire breath. The bulb on the end lit, a steady stream of smoke drifting upward.
“You seriously need a security.” She smirked, blowing a puff of smoke, glancing at his stack of papers. “Maybe Luna could?”
“Not in her current condition.” Havaak reminded her, looking up.
“O-oh, right…” She sighed, groaning as she flicked her metal cigarette.
“Anyways, go for a hunt if you’re bored.” He said, holding his breath as he caught scent of the tainted smoke. “Take some edge off.”
“But I’m all edge.” She smirked.
Havaak mixed a laugh with a grunt, rolling his eyes. “Even after half a century, you haven’t dulled.”
“Well…” Taking a swig of her liquor, Gwen stood up. “Looks like I’m going out…”
Taking a minute collect herself and return her drink, Gwen made her way to the outskirts of town. At the base of the mountain range, they lived in, the Wargess crouched on all fours. Claws extending and igniting in red flame, Gwen let her alter take hold. Eyes shining silver, Gwen felt her body launch forward and up the mountainside.
Through tinted eyes, she watched as she clawed her way up the mountain in a snarling frenzy. Claws slicing through rock, she got to the bridge of stone that spanned between the two towering peeks, looking over the sprawling lands and forests below. The twin suns shone down on her silver and grey fur, what little her sleeveless jacket and ripped pants failed to conceal. Fangs showing in her mad grin, Gwen’s alter took off and jumped down into the lush forest.
Huffing clouds of hot break and smoke, Arza tore through the forest at high speed on all fours. Her nose flaring, she picked the scent of a healthy and strong manticore male. Silver eyes locked on the direction of her target, she leaped over a log and tore the two trees at her sides as she exited into the field. As the duo of towering oaks collapsed, the manticore she pursued saw her and ran. Arza only grinned like mad and dashed after it.
Catching up to it in seconds, she grabbed the tail’s stinger by the bulb and wrenched it free. The manticore screamed as part of its tail was pulled off, spinning around to meet the Wargess. The two combatants roared in each other’s faces, the manticore in desperate salvation, Arza in a mocking challenge.
Taking command of the situation, Arza set her claws ablaze and clamped the beast’s muzzle shut. The flames entrapped the manticore’s jaws, searing the flesh together. The manticore tried to roar, but its cheeks ached, and his head rang. Dizzy and throat sore, Arza’s prey stumbled, leaving an opening for her. The Wargess lunged.
It was a hour later that Gwen returned to town, dragging the mangled corpse of the manticore into the butcher shop. Heaving it onto the counter, she left her kill for the butcher to deal with.
Havaak watched as Gwen returned to her home down the street from his. Sitting on the porch, he’d taken a minute to clear his head. Eyes closed, his ear twitched at the sound of claws clicking on the heated stone floors. From the mental map he had, the owner of those claws was headed to the bedroom.
His mind shifted to the Mistress. She’d often do things on a whim, and her leaving with Spike, Damian, and Greg was no different. He imagined that they’d be gone for a while, but not too long. The Mistress wasn’t usually gone for that much time, and if she was, she’d often return with news.
Opening his eyes, Havaak stood in the lamplight and headed indoors. Deciding it was time for sleep, he lazily walked into the room and laid next to the bundle of sheets and blankets. Sighing as he felt the mattress support his weight, he looked to the large bundle. “You stole all the blankets again.”
“I was cold…” Came muffled Luna’s defense.
Havaak looked to the bronze thermometer mounted next to the door. “It’s 76 degrees in here.”
“Well excuse me if I’m not a walking stove.” She grumbled, the sheets pulling tighter over her.
Unfazed, he smirked. “But you are~”
Luna made a small moan, grunting as she sat up and let the sheets slip off her head and shoulders, the sheets bunching together around her round and stretched belly. “So I am~” She winked as she leaned over him, propping her more plump self up with an arm, her body having changed with the addition of life housed inside.
“How are they doing? Any health issues?”
“No. All six are growing big and strong.” Leaning down just enough to plant a kiss on his forehead, Luna bit back a grunt from her aching back. “Though, I’ve had to use the bathroom twelve times today, which is always fun…”
Havaak noted her distaste, bringing a clawed hand up to stroke her arm. “I know it’s been hard, but please hang in there.”
Luna huffed, her teal and silver eyes filled with affection. “We’ll do our best~” She leaned down and planted another kiss, stopping after her gift was passed on, feeling her insides shift. “I need another bathroom break…”
“Of course.” He smiled, watching her waddle away and stealing the blankets back. “Hehehe…”
“I will return for those!” Luna shouted as she closed the door.
The city of Canterlot shook as enormous individual tremors struck. The castle shook and vibrated as the mountain was sat upon, the shadow of a great dragon casting the city in shade. Ponies screamed and raced for their homes, knowing deep down they were not safe.
The midnight blue dragon tilted its head, an armada of orange, slitted eyes glaring at the gleaming towers below. The abyss yawned open above the city as the dragon spoke, it’s voice shattering every window. Walls cracked and crumbled. “HEAR ME, CANTERLOT. I HAVE COME ON BEHEST OF MY SON, TREAT HIM WELL AS HE VISITS YOUR LITTLE CITY.” Joseph was a bit older, but he didn't appear grey. He still walked strong with the Lord, praying multiple times a day and keeping his mindset always focused on the Lord's will over his own. His coppery red irises drifted up to see the large dragon from his bedroom window. "Mendosei… could you not scare the ever-loving fuck out of everyone? It's a pain in the ass to calm them down. That, and we’ve had to deal with several demons over the years…" he sighed. "Yare, yare… most would say demons aren't real, as would I… before that day."
The dragon’s splendid hearing picked up what he said amongst the panicked screams and shouts of the ponies. Focusing on him, she sent a mental message, the wall of eyes flicking towards him. “Stow your remembrance… Displaced. I care not. You are the guardian of this city?”
Joseph shrugged. "You can thank Tia for that. She apparently contacted my Ancestor whom happened to be training me… and he sent me in his place. Suffice to say, she's nowhere near the stubborn pain in the ass she once was… and on the upside, that petulant waste of space 'Princess' Aotaka certainly was humbled several years back… though frankly, his choice was one that damn near cost far more than just the ponies," he sighed, shaking his head. “Aotaka? I recall one called Blueblood being executed a little while ago, at least from what my Wargs tell me.” The dragoness rumbled, huffing as her breath boiled the streets. It was then that Joseph noticed the three figures hiding amongst her enormous fins. Two Wargs and one dragon.
"Both he and his sister were put down. They tried to summon creatures from another dimension that threatened this one. Had to call in assistance to fix it." Joseph said bluntly, not interested in reopening new wounds.
“Don’t tell me…” Greg huffed as he landed next to the window, his strong claws cracking the marble walls of the castle. “That idiot Blueblood has descendants, and those two are it? Sounds like they are identifiable by their acts alone.”
"His brats certainly inherited his ego… wouldn't surprise me if he'd built their egos up that they were better than Celestia… and in his words, not mine, 'that moon mutt bitch'. Not sure how they got into that world… Helheim… but the fruits there are extremely dangerous… and if they don't turn you into a monster… you'll be damn lucky," he sighed. "Kinshinzō was Blueblood's son… Aotaka his daughter," he muttered, very aware of the Neighponese names.
Greg looked at him, unamused, as he glanced up to see Damian and Spike joining them. “Any chance I can skip the dialogue cutscenes and say we’re here to see Sparkle butt?”
Joseph cocked an eyebrow. “You’re lucky Twilight is here at the moment, considering she had planned on heading back to Ponyville this afternoon,” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes.
“It’s been five decades,” Spike deduced as he clung to the wall, his two tails slithering around the grand architecture. “She’s going to their funerals?” He referred to the Main Six, his eight slitted eyes glaring down at the human. “I’d expect nothing less from the span of time spent apart. But I don’t know you…”
"Nor I you, bub. So don't try intimidating me." Joseph said bluntly. He snorted as he half turned away. "And it's Granny Smith's passing… though I'd wager ten to fifteen years…the other five will join her at Christ's side," he sighed. Spike just gave a soft growling hum. Damian had come and sat on the balcony railing, looking over to the young drake. “If you need a minute, take it little guy.”
Spike wanted to rebuff, but only nodded, his frown growing deeper. “Let’s just get this over with…”
"Ain't nobody perfect, lad. That's one thing I'm all too familiar with." Joseph quipped. He pushed off the balcony, landing a crouch. "Never saw how the hell superheroes pulled that idiotic landing shite," he muttered gruffly as he straightened, fairly certain that the Wargs and Dragon had noticed the clawing scars across his throat.
“So… are you leading us to Twilight?” Spike asked, driven between hope and suspicion of the flat-faced creature with blonde curly hair.
Joseph snorts, rolling his eyes as a mature Twilight happened to come out into the gardens below them right at that moment. "When she's already here? Besides, I can say that Celestia is nowhere near as much of a bitch as she once was, which even she'll admit to," he quipped half-jokingly.
Greg snarled, grabbing Joseph’s shoulder from behind. “We don’t give a crap about Celestia. We’ve found the purple princess, now leave us alone.” His grip tightened to the point the man’s bones shifted and popped.
“You know, we could leave the two to talk and go have some fun together.” Damian smirked, the hazel rings in his eyes glowing with what seemed like eager anticipation.
Without even asking for Joseph’s impute, Greg sent a mental message to Ihkerah. “Hey, boss lady? We found Spike’s target, Damian and me wanted to have a little… friendly chat… with the kid Spartan.”
The enormous dragon’s head tilted toward their location, her many eyes zeroing in on them from above. “Don’t take long~”
Greg just grinned at Joseph, almost looking psychotic.
Joseph cocked an eyebrow, ignoring the pain. "Is that supposed to intimidate me?" he deadpanned dryly. His eyes narrowed fractionally as his irises glowed a hot bluish purple.
“Nah!” Damian smirked, his fangs showing as he grinned in a very joyful way, pulling the human into a sidelong hug. Joseph noticed that his eyes had shifted to a rich hazelnut. “We’re just a little bored and I would love to see how you fair in a fight.”
“Thorkelllll?” Greg elongated the “L” in the name, a brow raised in slight alarm and weariness.
“Thorkell” smirked wider and shrugged. “What? I’m bored, and you know how I get.”
“That’s what I’m worried about…”
"You enjoy a good fight, clearly… and there aren't too many that can give me a truly good fight… Stella Sabre alongside a few of her friends, Shining Armor in his prime… Celestia… Applejack…. she can still give a hell of a fight," Joseph commented wryly.
“Shining Armor? The former captain?” Greg scoffed, clicking his tongue.
“The ponies?” Thorkell smirked, cracking his knuckles, and flexing his burning claws. “Try wargs…”
Within a second, Joseph felt pain spike through his gut, spider webbing throughout his body. Next, he found himself flying over the city and over the walls, landing in a heap at the roots of the mountain. Struggling to sit up, he gazed up to see Greg crouched over him, able to make out his chuckles through the ringing in his ears. “Pfft, that was quite a ways. Ten out of ten, huh?”
"Not bad… but Old Man Hades hits harder… and that was before the blessings I got…" Joseph commented as he stood slowly.
“Then allow me to send you his way…” Greg snarled, gripping Joseph’s collar and hoisting him up to eye level. Greg stood, his ten-foot stature leaving the human’s feet dangling. “I’m sure Hell wouldn’t be opposed to a new resident.” Joseph chuckled before he let the shockwave of kinetic force shove them apart, landing in a crouch. “Been there, done that. By the way… Tirek already went down there. Pretty sure Megaera and Tisiphone are having fun playing with his ass…” he smirked as he rolled his shoulders. “But if you’re so eager for a fight to the death… I have plenty to use, but I’m leaning towards using a bit of close combat,” he deadpanned as he focused, silvery heat forming into the Nemean Cesti over his fists and forearms. “But don’t cry when I punch your teeth so far down your throat, you’ll have to shove a toothbrush up your ass to brush them,” he growled. “And height-wise, you ain’t far from a Midgardian Troll…” he drawled as he clashed the Cesti with a metallic crack and surge of kinetic energy.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m not the crazy fighter here.” Greg huffed, walking away and off to the side as Damian, or Thorkell, stalked up to the man with a psychotic smirk.
“I’m really, extra sure our mate wants us to come back alive, so let’s just brawl for however long we can stand. Sound ok, curly?”
Joseph cocked an eyebrow. "All right, Larry. No sign of Moe, though," he quips, a bit amused, though I have to wonder if he notices the likely unintentional Three Stooges joke, he started. He pushes off the ground, popping Damian across the face with a rising knee before twisting into a back thrust kick that catches him in the chest. Damian hadn’t even flinched. His smirk widened as his eyes shifted back to brown. “Ah’right then…”
Thorkell delivered a haymaker to Joseph’s face after the man landed, giving him a one-way ticket to the skies. Joseph landed in a cloud of dust several meters away.
Joseph grunted as he kicked up onto his feet, cocking his head. "Was that a love-tap, boyo?" he drawled, a slight smirk crossing the corners of his mouth.
“Nah, a warmup.” He then rushed the human, his breath layered in frost as his fur hardened into slick, ebony stone. Summoning his two Chaos Blades, he thrusted the two blades out and yanked himself the rest of the way to Joseph, preparing to kick him in the chest.
Joseph grinned as he shifted his weight before ramming the right Nemean Cesti into the Warg's side in a vicious short uppercut. Following it up with an overhand left into his belly, hard, whilst employing the old dip-and-roll boxing tactic. Instead of whimpering, Thorkell grunted and laughed, swiping at Joseph with his yellow flaming claws. “Nice one. But remind me; who are you? I don’t think we’ve met before… hooman.” He sounded as if he’d hardly ever said the word. "You could say I know your Alpha. Not a blood brother, but one in the Holy Spirit," Joseph deadpanned, hopping back to evade the claws.
“Only briefly.” Greg rolled his eyes from the side, having kept up with the two fighters. “And cut that bull crap, we all know our Alpha’s a simp for religious freedom. Though, I personally don’t care if he is, so long as he doesn’t try to convert me. Sorta like a gay friend; don’t hit on me and we’re cool.” Thorkell sighed and shook his head.
"Only because you think you don't need His Love, which sadly is far too common not just here but on Earth as well," Joseph deadpanned dryly.
Greg rolled his eyes again, groaning. “I’ve gotten through life just fine without the man upstairs. And I don’t need your ‘help.’”
"Heh heh heh heh heh… I once thought the same… until the world used me like a bad ex… and crushed me worse than a glass bottle under a steamroller," Joseph sighed, shrugging. "But He does things in His time," he sighs. “And yet, some of us can make it on our own terms.” Greg snarled, crossing his arms. “Would you two mind continuing the show? Me and the Boss would love that.”
“Yes, please move on~” Came the dragoness’ voice in their minds. “I so love good entertainment, dears~”
Joseph’s eyes narrowed as he dismissed the Nemean Cesti before a very familiar pair of blades materialized in a gust of brilliant scarlet flames --- his own Blades of Chaos. “Entertainment, eh? Then let’s dance, bitch,” he growled, his eyes narrowing as they glowed a dull amber. He shifted his weight as he let a few inches of chain sway down, so the blades gave off a growling hum as he spun the chain in his grasp, the blades starting to spin in the air, a cyclone of flames forming as he let them spin. “And I can say… I dunno how Kratos recreated the fusion of the chains for these… but the games… didn’t show how much having them fused to your muscles and bones hurts like hell.” He let out a low, almost growling laugh.
The dragoness who towered over the city blinked her many eyes in confusion. “You… want to fight me? Are you certain, dear?”
"Not you, Ryūtenshi…" Joseph drawled. "Her," he growled. The one he spoke of was a Greek Changeling who fed on fear; a woman with decaying skin, bat wings, and falcon talons. Steam rose from his grip on his chains, though he ignored the pain.
Ihkerah wasn’t impressed. Looking between the creature and the human, she frowned. “Is this an insult? This thing isn’t even worth putting in a hatchling’s nightmares.” With a flick of her tail, she sent the creature flying to parts unknown. Snorting, her breath melting some of the gold on the castle’s towers.
“You failed to impress me, Displaced.” Then, in a low whisper as dark smoke enveloped her. “I should’ve strangled that Merchant eons ago…”
Within seconds, she had shifted to her smaller form, her shadow no longer casting over the city. She glared down at the human that stood up to her waist, her voice dripping with venom, making the Wargs shiver and back away. “Do you still wish to fight me, darling?~”
“I never said it was a Merchant that Displaced me... as a matter of fact, it was my own Ancestor… Kratos himself… who did so,” Joseph deadpanned, “and I’m not like my ancestor… fighting for the fun of it… or to sate bloodlust. True, I do fight, but only when I must.”
“Would you prefer a true test of your strength?” The ridge of scales above her many eyes lifted with her slender tongue flicking in his direction. With a flex of her taloned feet, the ground cracked under all of them.
"Tempting, but unnecessary, even if it were to prove to you my strength. I don't see physical strength as the ultimate necessity." Joseph commented wryly.
She sighed, pinching her brow. “You fool. This world is filled with powerful creatures, both my kin and more. Should you wish to survive here, test your metal against someone you trust not to kill you.” Stepping closer, she leaned forward to get at eye level with him, grasping his chin in a vice-like grip, one even he couldn’t get free from. “And by the way, ponies are one of the least powerful creatures in this realm. You test your abilities with level one mobs, not bosses.”
Joseph sneered a bit. "That implies I truly trust anybody." His words held a distinctive growl. "The only one I might trust slightly in that way would be Stella… most everyone else… I don't trust one of them. Physically, I know I've lived a half century, yet in body, I don't feel a single day older."
“Hm… my mistake, you don’t need a fight. You need a beating.” It wasn’t a jest, her voice hard and many eyes narrowed.
"If you mean 'beating' as in 'humbling'... every day I wake up breathing is humbling enough… though between you and me, I'd be hoping God isn't like that certain version of him from a certain series with brothers hunting inhuman threats as a 'family business'," Joseph sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Ah yes, so sad…” She smirked, letting him go and casually snapping her claws in his face. The shockwave alone was enough to evaporate his crimson armor and explode his body. All that remained was a splatter of blood on the grass. “And so was that.”
Summoning her magic, Joseph reappeared in front of her in a circle of fire. Ihkerah stared at him as he patted himself down and trembled, her smirk gone as she frowned with an almost dead look in her eyes. “You wanted to scratch my little jewels, so you will fight me.”
The two Wargs gulped, staggering back to put distance between them and their Mistress.
“Think we should run?” Greg whispered to Damian, who was now back in control and shaking.
“F-Fuck that, I’m getting out of the blast zone!” Damian was engulfed in green fire and sped towards the city.
-=Meanwhile=-
“So… fifty years?” Twilight mumbled awkwardly, fixing her flowing white dress and silver regalia, sitting on a bench with Spike a foot away. Sitting tall and straight, she looked the definition of a princess, a mask to hide behind. “W-what’s happened? How’ve you been?”
“Uh…” Spike rubbed his neck, claws scraping hardened scales. “It’s been quiet under Ihka’s rule…lots of trade with other packs and even a few merchants set up shop in our town. But there was a small group of Wargs that left. They didn’t want to live under a dragon or Havaak. But all in all, living in Dragneel’s been good.”
“Dragneel?” Twilight asked, her worry slightly replaced with curiosity.
The drake chuckled, shaking his head. “Same old Twilight… it’s the name of the town we live in. It’s a small place that’s northwest of Equestria, a mining and farming town.”
“Is ‘Ihka’ that… big dragon?” She couldn’t help but shutter at the terrifying memory of the massive dragon.
“Yeah. And she… kinda adopted me?” Spike blushed a bit, smiling with embarrassment. “She says we’re all like jewels and gold to her, and she definitely holds us with that value, but we’re not objects to her. We’re her family. Oktarr more or less became my big sister too. She’s kinda like you, really smart and always has something new to teach.”
“So, everypony’s been… good to you? That’s great to hear.” She sighed, smiling for a moment before becoming somber, her royal mask cracking. “I was devastated when I’d heard you’d left. I’ve had lots of time to think about how I treated you…” Then her regal mask slipped, a sniffle, then a whimper. It was within seconds that she broke down, throwing her arms around the dragon as she squeezed him with all her alicorn might. Yet Spike like he was being hugged with the strength of a child. “I-I’m so s-sorry! I-I should’ve been better, a much better sister to you! And… I should’ve realized what Celestia had done too…”
“Twilight…” Spike sighed, looking her in the eye as tears stained her cheeks. “You were a filly back then. And it wasn’t just your fault.”
“I-I know. Celestia…” She sat up and cleared her throat. “She knows what she did and she’s very sorry for what she did under the Sun Priests’ influence.”
“And she couldn’t tell me that herself?” He deadpanned, coiling his two tails around the bench, a small crack being heard.
Twilight looked away, ashamed. “She couldn’t, ruling the kingdom and all. We’ve been trying to find new ways to live without the excessive use of magic, but it’s been a slow process. At the rate we’re going, I don’t think many ponies will be fed. The Earth Ponies have had it the hardest, crops are choked out by weeds and thistles. The Pegasi can’t control the weather very well, any big storms make their efforts useless.”
“And the unicorns?”
She winced. “Whatever magic the average unicorn had, it’s almost gone. They can barely lift anything with levitation, like foals do.” The alicorn looked at him hopefully. “Do you think Fang could help? From what you’ve told me… things have been great for you guys.”
He scratched his head. “I… I don’t know. Ultimately, that’s up to Ihkerah. Havaak might have a say, but she’s the one that will have the final say. You want help? Ask her.”
Twilight’s face went pale. “O-oh… w-would any of the other Wargs help?”
“Uh…” Now it was Spike’s turn to go white. “They might… for a price…”
“W-well, Equestia doesn’t have much in the way of bits at the moment, the Deneighcrats made sure of that…”
“N-not money…” Spike gulped, licking his lips. “In work…”
“W-work?”
“S-slavery is a practice in some of the tribes…”
Twilight stared, unmoving. “WHAT?!?!?”
“I-It’s not too common! Just, expected…”
“A-are there other ponies who are slaves to the Wargs?!”
“Y-yeah… and dragons too…”
The mare stared, flabbergasted. “U-uh…”
“B-but they’re treated really good! I haven’t heard of or seen anypony sick without treatment, anypony gets their own rooms, they can even live outside their master’s lands. The High Alpha makes sure of it. In his society, no one is treated unfairly… at least, so I’ve heard.” He smiled nervously.
“You’re suggesting that we sell the entire population of Equestria off as SLAVES?!” Twilight roared, her perfectly combed mane frazzling.
“Hey! I was warning you!” Spike shot back, eyes glowing and spines elongating, tails lashing. “Don’t start yelling at me because you can’t handle the idea!”
“Spike, this isn’t an idea or some fairy tale, this is real life!” She countered.
He snarled. “And you’re still living in a fantasy!”
Twilight tried to rebuttal, but she couldn’t, not after they’d just been reunited. She hung her head low, her flowing mane acting like a wall between them, her voice cracking. “I-I know Spike… but it’s all I have left. My friends and family are gone and Equestria is falling apart.”
“Hey…” She felt his claw rest on her shoulder, prompting her to look his way. She found him smiling. “I’m still here. And families fight sometimes, it’s ok Twi.”
Spike suddenly found himself in another hug, the alicorn shaking and weeping in his arms. They stayed like this for several minutes before Damian came rushing through the gate, melting the bars as he sped up to them. Damian panted, the green fire dying. “Hey, you guys good?”
“Yeah.” Spike smiled and patted Twilight on the back, waiting for her to release him. “Everything ok?”
“Uh… if you define ‘ok’ as Equestria’s only defense getting clapped by your mom, then yeah. Everything’s dandy!” Damian mockingly deadpanned, an explosion sounding in the distance, followed by a short tremor. “Just great… you? You and the Princess of Sparkles hash things out?”
“You want popcorn with the show? Extra butter?” Spike deadpanned back, letting Twilight sit up and sputter at her new title.
“Extra-extra butter…”
“Roret’s going to kill you when your cholesterol spikes.”
“I have three hearts to spare.” The Warg shrugged.
“Not when she’s done with you.” Spike chuckled. “But yes, Twilight and I are cool.”
“Good.” Damian looked to the skies to find their draconic mistress landing next to them, black smoke dissipating around her.
She calmly walked up to them, standing a head over even Damian, looking over her hatchling and the little alicorn. Seeing that they were on better terms, she kept a cool vestige, but nodded to Spike. She relaxed her voice, letting it dip into a deep, melodic symphony of terrifying power. “I assume you’ve made an emends?”
Spike nodded to her, standing, and helping Twilight up onto her hooves. The Dragoness regarded Twilight with a soft but cold stare, silently judging the mare that had mistreated her precious little hatchling. Ihkerah snorted a plume of smoke and disregarded the alicorn, finding the mare beneath her attention. In her eyes, Equestria and its ponies’ lives were soon ending, and there was no need to harm a dying corpse.
She loked back to Spike. “Would you like to spend the night or longer, before moving on to the Dragon Lands?”
“Uh…” The young drake thought for a long moment, so long that Twilight was surprised. She’d always known him to make snap-quick decisions. Finally, he looked back to his mother. “I think a week would be good.”
“Very well.” Ihkerah nodded, inwardly grimacing. She didn’t want to spend too much time around these ignorant ponies. By no means did she detest the entire species, just the foolhardy Equestrians. Afterall, one could only ignore the rotting stench of arrogance for so long.
-=Meanwhile=-
Near the world’s core, deep in pressurized stone, lay a slumbering dragon. His vast muscles tensed, claws scraping and crushing stone. His single pair of crimson eyes snapped open, his magical senses pinging at his groggy mind. Breathing stale air, deep and long, the grey scaled dragon sighed as four large wings scraped the abyss’ ceiling. A flicker of scarlet lightning danced on the corners of his eyes and the length of his two prolonged horns. The dragon’s enormous vocal cords rumbled, causing the earth to shudder. “Sssssister…”
Ihkerah snorted awake in her chair, her frills shooting up in alertness, only for her to breath and calm herself. The only thing lighting the dark room was the lit hearth, its dim glow cast over the large bed and carpets. She sat to the side, glancing over the bed to see her slumbering son, curled up in the warm quilts and thick blankets. The daughter of the first true Dragon Lord smiled, listening to her hatchling snore softly. That smirk vanished as she sensed someone at the door. With a sniff, she knew it wasn’t the Wargs. It was a pony.
Scowling, she stood and quietly made her way to the door, gently opening it to see the alicorn from before. Twilight, if Ihkerah remembered correctly, cowered under the dragoness’ gaze. She stepped past the door’s threshold and loomed over Twilight, smoothly closing the door.
Leaning down, inches from the alicorn’s face, she whispered. “What do you want?”
Twilight shivered in the dragon’s shadow, the very dragon that had loomed over the city hours before. “U-um, I-I was checking on S-Spike…”
“Hm…” Ihkerah looked her over, six orange eyes glaring down and observing the winged unicorn. “What possessed you to treat my hatchling so poorly? Abandoning him when he was rejected, abusing his loyalty. And believe me when I say that I am being very meek at this moment.”
“M-Meek?! I-I don’t see you acting shy or reclusive.” Twilight felt herself go pale as the dragoness’ eyes narrowed. “I-I mean…”
“Meekness has never been about shyness or harmlessness. No, meekness is having the power to kill and murder, but withholding. Sparing those you could easily harm.” Ihkerah stood tall, eyes still narrow. “Like I’ve done with you. And I have more than enough justification to do otherwise.”
Twilight didn’t know if she was going to pass out from blood loss. She wisely kept her mouth shut.
“Take me to Celestia.” Ihkerah snarled softly, a hiss playing in the sun alicorn’s name.
Without speaking or nodding, Twilight led the way to the Princess’ chambers. She stood off to the side next to the guard. The dragoness stepped closer to the door, only to be blocked by the guards’ spears. “Halt. The Princess isn’t— AGH!!!”
Both guards screamed in agony as the Dragoness looked at them and their armor clamped around them, bruising muscle, popping, and cracking bone. Twilight moved to yell at Ihkerah, but stopped as Celestia, in her nightgown, burst the doors open and beat the former student to the punch. “RELEASE MY GUARDS!!” The guards were released, and both collapsed to the floor. The dragoness snorted, glaring at the pearl coated Princess. “If that woke my hatchling, you will be delt with.”
“Why are you here at this hour?” Celestia snarled, fixing her sagging crown. “And was hurting my guards really necessary?”
“They were like annoying flies, so I swatted them away. And as for the hour, one would think with a lifespan as great as yours, a few minutes of sleep won’t bother you. For my being here, I have a question.”
“What is it?” Celestia narrowed her magenta eyes at the dragon’s flaming orbs.
“From what I’ve been told, you were under the influence of drugs. And in that influence, you kept the truth from Spike and let him be malnourished. My question,” She sounded as if she wanted to spit the word out. “Is this; do you remember and regret these actions? And if so, why not show yourself to Spike when we came to your deathtrap of a capital?”
“D-deathtrap?!”
“Yes, I could tell at a glance that this city is poorly protected. No reinforced walls, no turrets, no wards. Camped on the side of a mountain, completely exposed to the elements and attack. It’s a wonder that your civilization hasn’t crumbled sooner.” Ihkerah groaned, clenching her fangs. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
Celestia, still tired and angry, grumbled with her ears flat. She recalled snippets and clips of memory, but much was still fuzzy, even after fifty years. “I remember, but I’d never meant to hurt him.” She expected some outburst from the dragon, but none came. The dragoness just stood there, patiently listening. “I was so under that very little made sense. The Priests didn’t want Spike knowing what he was, potentially being an unknown type of dragon with tremendous power. They didn’t like a scenario where he would wipe them out, so they thought they’d let him die in ignorance. So, they had me give him the necklace and cast the spells. He would’ve lived a very short life and died without knowing, so thank you. Thank you for helping him.”
“You mean thank you for saving him.” The dragoness snarled. “All I hear are excuses. Excuse after excuse. Why couldn’t you muster enough willpower or magic to push through the drug’s effect? Why not take a stand against them? Why not fight them for ownership of your country? Why pawn it off on someone else? Why Havaak? Why those six mares? I see no Princess, Queen, or Empress in front of me, only a cowering foal. And yes, I do know what you call your infants, just as insects call their hatchlings ‘grubs.’ But I haven’t stepped on this little colony because my hatchling finds you so endearing. If it were otherwise, I would’ve stomped this meager anthill into the dirt centuries ago.”
It was then that she felt a familiar presence from far below their feet. Ihkerah ignored the stoically trembling and weeping ponies, focusing on that power. Breathing in and out, she finally grasped the name of that power’s owner. She smirked. “So, that fat worm finally woke.”
“W-what?” Twilight asked at the dragoness’ feet, cheeks stained with tears. Deciding to entertain the feathered miniature unicorn, she answered. “My brother finally woke up after hibernation. That idiot always loved his naps. Too bad he could never love a female more.”
Deep below, Fraxxak sneezed an underground hurricane into existence.
Deciding to wordlessly dismiss the ponies for the remaining night, she slowly meandered back to her’s and Spike’s room. She hadn’t wanted the ponies to apologize to her, but she wanted them to at least think about expressing regret to Spike. Though, with the appearance of Fraxxak, it would make for an entertaining day. Stepping into the room, she saw that Spike was already out of bed, stretching in the morning light. “You slept well?” Spike jumped at his mother’s voice, feeling her commanding aura through his own meager power. “Uh, good, I guess. But, compared to the bed I have at home, this one’s like a slab of rock.”
Ihkerah let a smile grace her lips. “Ah, feeling too privileged?”
“Uh, maybe?” Spike blushed and chuckled. He could see behind the smile; she was annoyed and angry. The slight edge in her voice tipping him off. “You talked with Twilight?”
“And Celestia.” She admitted as her smile fell, not wanting to keep him in the dark. “They are… remorseful.”
A dark look overtook the young drake. “And, let me guess, they’re avoiding the fact.”
“Correct. They seem to be experts at beating around the bush.” Walking up to Spike, the dragoness wrapped her arms and molding wings around her hatchling, holding him tightly to her superheated scales. “Four days and still no apology. I’m beginning to wonder if they’re even remotely remorseful.”
Spike sighed in preparation for the floodgates, relaxing in her grip. “I would’ve thought she’d…” he trailed off, holding back tears.
“Ssssshhhh…” The Ahamkara of Storms shushed her son, intertwining her tail around and between his. “If she dares to continue this behavior by the end of the week, I will personally bring this decrepit capital to ruin. I will hold back my wrath no more.”
Spike tried and failed to hide a hiccup, numb to the potential deaths of unknown ponies. “C-could you at least protect Twilight?”
“Given that she is the single pony to apologize to you, I will. In the calamity, no harm will befall her, my dear hatchling.” She nuzzled the top of his horned head, her pointed chin scraping his indigo scales.
Spike had gone to the main six’s funerals, each within the past few days. The trip to Ponyville had been short but felt like an eternity. Seeing each of the mare’s coffins had wrenched his heart, the world fading away in his sorrow. Ihkerah had hugged him exactly like this as he wept, staying silent so he could morn. It was somewhat easier to take their deaths, as he’d known their end would come soon. He was honestly happy that he wasn’t there to see them pass, it felt like it made their deaths easier to swallow.
“F-fifty years and I still cry like a baby…” Spike bemoaned, sniffling in his mother’s embrace.
“Fifty years is a month in our lifetime.” Ihkerah stated matter-of-factly, a warm smile splitting her snout. “And there is no shame in needing to weep, we all must when we lose something. Whether the loss is large or small, we are always allowed to cry. Let no one tell you different.”
“O-ok…” They stayed in this embrace for a long moment before there came a knock at the door. Ihkerah held back a groan and uncoiled herself from her son, nuzzling his forehead.
Turning to open the door, she found a small blue mare in a maid outfit. The mare’s green eyes shrank as she stood under the dragon’s shadow. “M-miss? T-the P-princess will s-see you n-now f-for breakfast…”
“Good.” She stepped back into the room to put her robes on, asking if Spike did so as well. The dragoness then passed the trembling mare with Spike following, wiping his eyes. They made it to the dining hall, opening the grand doors to find the two pony princesses, Damian and Greg, eating their own meals.
Ihkerah slowly stalked her way towards the ponies, coming to take a seat next to Celestia, with Twilight across from her and Spike to her right. “I probably should have said this earlier, but good morning.”
“G-good morning.” Twilight did her best not to stutter in her terror of the dragoness, focusing her attention on the second new arrival. She actually managed a smile for him, sounding much more relaxed. “Good morning, Spike.”
“Morning…” He did his best to the remaining tears.
“Spike? Were you crying?!” Before Spike could say anything, the purple mare rounded on Ihkerah, her fear forgotten in her brother’s protection. “What did you do to him?! Do you have any idea how hard coming back has been for him?! And now you go and make him cry?!”
Ihkerah ignored the little alicorn’s rant as it spiraled on, paying her no mind. Spike shrunk in his seat, blocking out Twilight’s rant, the practice he’d used years ago surviving him well. She went on for another hour before she finally concluded.
Twilight sat in her seat, panting with her face in a grimace. The dragoness had ignored her entire speech!! Didn’t she even care about Spike and his feelings?!
“Ah, you’ve finally shut up. Good.” Ihkerah smiled, leaning forward, and folding her talons. This single action made Twilight shiver and her face went pale. “You preach but do not practice. You speak of love and support, yet you failed him then, and you’re failing him now. I’m not surprised he left your miserable land; it reeks of hypocrisy. Now, why don’t you do what a princess does and look pretty. After all, that is what you were proposed for; a re-sellable pretty doll.”
One of her blazing orange eyes twitched, looking off into the distance. She smirked. “I can even see a few still stocked on the shelves~”
Twilight was aghast, mentally drawing a blank in the wake of the Dragoness’ onslaught. With a deep frown on her face, Celestia stood up. She placed her hands on the table, leaning forward with her sneer. “Leave.” Ihkerah deflected Celestia’s intimation roll, looking to the alicorn with boredom. “Not until you’ve apologized.” “For what?”
The Daughter of the First Dragon Lord furrowed her brows, her sharp teeth grinding. “For deceiving Spike and neglecting his needs. For keeping him blind and powerless. It’s no wonder he left you all in the dust.”
Twilight tried to come up with a justification, stammering in her seat. Celestia, on the other hand, balled her fists and lit her horn. Eyes shining and rainbow mane bursting into flame, the Princess stood up to face the dragoness.
Yet Ihkerah didn’t even blink at the display, only smiled.
Celestia sneered. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through in the past five decades?! Our magic is gone, our farms are dying, and our protection is whittled down to a single alien god!”
“That sounds awful.” The Dragoness gave a mock gasp of horror. “But not my issue.”
“Fang, your Leader, is the one that stole—“ Celestia stopped as Ihkerah got in her face, six eyes narrowed in rage.
“I am the Mistress of the Nahar. Havaak is my subordinate, yet he still leads the Wargs. I, Ihkerah, Daughter of the First Dragon Lord and the Living Calamity, am no one’s pet.” She spat the last word, her growl of bottled wrath shaking the city. “Speak such words again and I will make good on the promise I made to my Hatchling.”
“Y-you dare--!”
Ihkerah closed her eyes and grasped the alicorn’s horn, blocking her magic. Twisting and holding tight to where Celestia began crying in agony, Ihkerah breathed deep and opened her blazing eyes. “No. You… dare, to think so little of me. I have shown restraint when exercising my great power. I have likewise exercised my patience when dealing with your kind. But no more… Equestria shall burn under my shadow.”
Spike visibly shuttered. “M-mom… remember?”
“I do.” The dragoness’ eye flicked to Twilight. “She will be safe in the coming carnage.”
“W-wait, WHAT!?!” Twilight panicked, finally processing what was going on. “I-I didn’t agree to thi—” In a flash of light, she was teleported to Ponyville.
The dragoness then looked to her son and Wargs, instantly teleporting them to the outskirts of the mountain. Ihkerah looked back to Celestia, eyes cold as ice. “For you, I have no such mercy.”
Gripping just enough to crack the horn, Ihkerah smirked as the alicorn struggled and wept. Celestia swore and cursed by every entity she knew, trying again and again to cast a spell, but all she got was a few golden sparks. Deciding to get a bird’s eye view, the dragoness shifted a pair of large wings onto her back, smashing through the roof and hovering high above the mountain. She looked to Celestia, the mare still crying and trying to punch the dragon’s claws. Ihkerah just chuckled.
Looking back down at the city, she stretched out a claw. “For harming my family, watch yours burn.”
An instant later, the streets cracked with spraying fire, towers collapsed, roofs caved, and walls shattered. Celestia watched helplessly as her city burned below her, clamping her ears to her head to try and muffle the screams of her subjects. The alicorn sobbed as she witnessed everything; stallions, mares, and foals burning. Homes, shops, and her once grand palace all crumbled and melted. With a flex of the dragon’s claw, the mountainside cracked, the ledge that had supported the city collapsing, and sending the city of Canterlot to its demise.
But Ihkerah wasn’t done.
For so long, she’d held herself back. Not letting her instincts take hold, to remain above the beastly Wyrms and their animalistic tendencies. For now, Ihkerah let herself slip into a more beastly frame of mind. Summoning her power, she commanded the ruined city to rise, rising above the mountain peak. There, the ruins hovered. Pony skeletons and burnt corpses lined the fragments of devastated streets. The remaining walls formed a single tower. And there, the dragoness dropped Celestia. Surrounded by her former subject’s bones, the dragoness left her to weep. “I let you live as a secondary penalty.”
Ihkerah then felt her brother’s presence shift, vertically climbing towards them. She could feel him commanding the earth out of his path, not even using his claws. And, his aura was smaller, having shifted to his smaller form. A common courtesy in dragon culture; if one shifted to a smaller form, you are to as well. Within seconds, there was a distant and small explosion of rock as Fraxxak made his exit from the earth.
Soaring into the skies next to the floating ruin was an inky dragon with a pale underbelly. Scales sharp and rugged, a pair of wings sprouted from his hips. Thin but strong, his build reflecting his power.
Three vertical, red eyes stared at Ihkerah. “I was having a good sleep! Why did you to go making racket over my head?”
“Oh, I was?” She fainted innocent. “How silly of me~”
Fraxxak grumbled, sighing in frustration as he drifted over to her. “Do you have to make my life miserable? Is that a hobby of yours?”
“Maybe~” Ihkerah smirked, noting the scarlet crystals that jutted between his scales in several places. “What’s that? Trying to imitate an Ulkvah?”
“Huh?” Fraxxak looked down at himself and groaned. “All that magic around me… these growths.”
“Sleep too long? Those crystals probably contain enough residual magic to detonate this continent.”
“Don’t you think I know?” Fraxxak snarled, fire escaping his jaws. “I’ll get rid of it.”
“You could pass it on.”
“And what? Give you even more power? One of the moons, even this very world has been cracked by your claws, Ihka!” He snarled again, his voice hard enough that it made Celestia flinch. It was then that he noticed the trembling alicorn. “What’s this?”
Ihkerah absentmindedly looked Celestia’s way, as if she’d forgotten about her. “Oh, this is… was the Princess of Equestria. And for years of abuse to your new nephew, she now lives in the ruins of her castle.”
“What exactly did she do to him?” It seemed he was used to meeting new family, especially after his naps.
“Hid his power and malnourished him to the point he was weak.” The words of her cold reply made him hiss. “I knew you’d agree.”
“On this, yes. That time you beat my head into the moon, no.” Fraxxak looked around the chamber of scorched marble and charred bones expectantly. “So, where’s this new nephew?”
“Right this way, Frax.” Ihkerah smirked as she walked past her brother, smacking his horns with her long tail.
Both dragons left Celestia in her floating tower, returning to the ground near Spike, Damian, and Greg. Fraxxak looked Spike over, looming over the young drake.
“Uh, hi?” Spike smiled awkwardly.
The once slumbering dragon hummed, looking over his nephew. “Greetings, my nephew. What is your name?”
“Spike.” His brow furrowed, focus leaving him as he sank deep into his own mind.
Sensing her son’s thoughts in her mind, Ihkerah stepped closer, discarding the wings she had. “You would like a new one?”
“I think I would, yeah. Equestria isn’t what it used to be, and almost everypony I knew is gone. They won’t remember me anyways; the only thing I really did was save a far-off kingdom. And it’s probably in ruins like Canterlot is.” Spike looked to his mother. “Got any ideas?”
After some thought, she smiled. “It was a name I had planned to give one of my previous hatchlings. Though sadly, the little dear couldn’t meet the world’s strength. He was stillborn. I now gift you his name…Arkihs.”
“Arkihs? What’s that mean?”
“Fortress.”
“Heh…” Spike found himself liking the name, preferring it over his past name. From Spike, a name one might dismiss as a headstrong fool, to a name that meant impenetrable. Yes, Arkihs found he liked the name very much. He felt as if the name alone gave him lacking confidence. “I’m Arkihs, O Mother Mine.”
“Indeed, O Child Mine~” Ihkerah smiled, adoring that he was using the Words of Power that all Ahamkara knew. “Now then, Fraxxak, I believe you had a gift for Arkihs?”
Fraxxak stepped closer to his nephew and placed his claw on the young dragon’s temple, transferring his residual power. Arkihs grunted and clenched his fangs, slowly accepting the magic. Within seconds, the crystals on Fraxxak’s scales disappeared, black and purple crystals materialized between and over Arkihs’. The young drake sighed, his legs trembling as he regained his bearings.
“W-what was that?” He gasped, choking down the lump in his throat.
“It was the magic I’d built up over my hibernation. Mammals store calories and nutrients in fat, we store excess magic in crystal growths. Granted, the more magic you store, the bigger the crystals.” Fraxxak shrugged.
“And you just… gave me your magic? But you slept for a long time, why weren’t your crystals bigger?”
“I have a big body; it expects a lot of magic to sustain.”
“What does this mean for me? All these crystals? I just have lots of magic. Why doesn’t mom have any in her small body?”
“You basically just asked why I’m not fat.” Ihkerah gave her son a deadpan, chuckling it off. “But to answer; I’m very good at managing my crystal growth.”
Fraxxak leaned in next to Arkihs, smirking. “Thus is why she walks everywhere; she has to keep active somehow.” She gave her brother a much more menacing deadpan. “Enough about crystals, leave that to the Umbra. Now, off to the Dragon Lands. Brother, will you join us?”
“No, I think I’ll just take a walk, or maybe fly. Been a bit.” Fraxxak smirked, spreading his wings, and taking to the skies. Arkihs watched his uncle fly south, vanishing into the clouds.
-=Meanwhile=-
Another shockwave of electrically charged shells was released, the Commander of the Quin armies stood at his table, in the safety of his tent. The boar loomed over his maps and books of strategy, flickering lamp resting nearby to provide light in the dark shelter. They had been in battle with the Wargs for several years, twenty to be exact. They had lost many, as had their enemy. Commander Tekkon Duur wasn’t about to let their sacrifices be in vain if they lost. The Wargs were powerful, but the Quin had their own hand of cards, dealing in advanced chemistry and tactical warfare. The Wargs seldom saw war, true war. The Wargs had faced battles and hardships, yes. Who hadn’t? But Wars spanning generations as the Quin did? Unlikely.
“Sir!” Tekkon was pulled from his thoughts by a messenger, dressed in ragged armor and a blue cape.
“Speak.” The Commander’s voice boomed, deep as a dragon’s bowls. Tekkon knew, the scars from acid were a testament to that.
“T-the Wargs. T-they’re pulling back!”
Tekkon blinked. Why? “Is there a new flag being raised?”
“T-that’s correct…” The envoy’s face went pale.
“Well? Who’s flag is it?!”
“The 187th, sir… the Death Corpse…”
Commander Tekkon Duur’s face turned white as his wife’s wedding gown. “Ra-raise the white flag…”
“T-that’s also a problem… it burned in a fire.”
“THEN GET YOUR CLEAN UNDERWEAR IF YOU MUST, BUT GET A WHITE ANYTHING RASIED!!!”
“Y-yes sir!!!” He was gone.
Tekkon rushed after the messenger, racing up the planks to the trench, and snatching the bifocals from his Sargent. Shakily putting the lenses up to his eyes, he saw wave upon wave of gasmasks, all armed with not guns, pistols, swords, or spears. They carried shovels.
Then came the sound of their march. Synchronized. Thunderous. Not a step out of place.
The ground trembled as much as Tekkon, the Corpse’s march unyielding. Even as a tattered white cloth was raised. They still marched.
Ember grunted atop her hoard of sparkling gems, the years having graced her with a towering and strong form. She looked and felt the same as she did fifty years ago, sans her boost in confidence and her sway over her subjects as Dragon Lord. As she sat, her mind drifted back to Spike, as it often did. She felt that she’d been too hard on him, still adoring how kind and gentle he was. Had he always clung to her side like a lost hatchling? Yes. Did he shower her with praises and gifts? Yes. Had he refused to be with her in the Dragon Lands and rule with her forever? Yes. Was he still clinging to his pony friends? Yes.
But she still missed him, even though she had several males pining for her, Garble among them. Ember grumbled, remembering the scar in his claw, how his stupidity had gotten him humiliated. Even his own mother refused to talk with him.
The Dragon Lord stared off into the distance, her crimson eyes hazily gazing at the dark clouds overhead. She blinked. She could’ve sworn something was blocking the sun… well, suns, now that the sky had shattered. She still didn’t know what to make of that event, the ponies refusing to wright back to answer her questions. She had managed to keep in touch with Spike, thankfully. Though whenever she asked where he was, if not in Ponyville, he said that he couldn’t say and that he was fine. This had only sparked more curiosity in her for the little dragon.
Suddenly, the shadows moved again, waking her from her daze. Was whatever it was getting… closer? And… bigger?!
A rumble, the likes that she’d only ever heard the like from her father, made the land tremble. She stared up, spotting thousands of strange orange stars behind the clouds. But the stars didn’t twinkle like stars, they blinked, simultaneously. They were like legions of eyes. She began to grow nervous as the lands plunged into darkness.
Through the clouds came the sharp, blade-like snout of a dragon. Or, at least for Ember, she thought it was. But with all those eyes peering through the shadowy veil, she couldn’t tell. Then, more of the creature emerged from the thick fog. Ember’s hunch had been correct; this was a dragon, but one that radiated power and authority like nothing she’d felt before. She was sure that not even her father, Torch the Mighty, could stand against this being. She felt as small as a hatchling again, weak and helpless. It had no horns, but large black fins. Its body was muscular and strong, though it had no wings.
Ember clutched the Blood Stone Scepter in her claws, trying to convince herself that it had some effect on this new possible threat. She clenched her fangs tight, forcing herself to stand. Raising the Scepter high, she found her voice. “Halt! In the name of Dragon Lord Ember, I command you to hold your advance! NOW!!”
The creature regarded Ember, all those eyes focusing on her. Her courage quickly trying its hardest to flee, she swallowed her mounting fear. But just before she could speak again, the enormous dragon did. It was a deep and thunderous noise, yet melodic and warm in her mind’s ear. She also sensed a trace of annoyance, not a good sign. “Little hatchling, that toy holds nothing over me. While your forebears have been playing king of the hill, mine have shattered continents and crafted the depths of the world.”
Ember cleared her throat, choosing her words carefully. “Then, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“It was at the behest of my son.”
“Who—“
“Hi Ember!” Arkihs shouted from atop Ihkerah’s head, waving to the shell-shocked Dragon Lord. “How you been?”
Ember, for her part, managed to pick up her slack jaw. “U-uh, g-good? S-Spike, is that you?!”
“Yeah… well, it’s Arkihs now.” Arkihs smiled as the light peeked through the thick clouds behind him.
Ember watched in awe as he breathed a jet of teal and black flame down to the ground, sliding down it like a pole. Now with him closer, she spotted his multiple eyes, crystal growths, and majestic horns. “W-what happened to you? You’re…”
“Grown up? Yeah.” He snorted, crossing his slim, but muscular arms. “That’s what happens when you leave your home… or, what used to be home. Turns out that being lied to and starved all your life does wonders for your mental health…”
Ember stared. “Wait, what? Lied to? W-who would do this?! I-I didn’t even think—”
“The ponies could do that? Yeah, shows what any of us know. It turns out, Celestia’s mom even tried to wipe out an entire race for just existing. Can’t help but feel I got off lucky somehow.”
“While the journey is difficult,” Ihkerah butted in, her massive shadow vanishing as she shifted to her smaller form, yet still towering over all present. “The ending is bittersweet. Lied and starved as you were, you were strong, and still are. I see a dragon that any female would crave.”
“Uh, thanks mom…” He blushed, clearing his throat after glancing at Ember.
The dragoness in question gasped. “Wait, she’s your mom?! The big scary dragon that just pulled up and nearly made me run away screaming?!”
“Adoptive.” The two said in unison, giggling at their combined answer.
“Er… right.” Ember winced at how strained and shaky her voice felt, clearing her throat. “So… you guys pass through Eques—”
“HEY!” The Dragon Lord winced and inwardly panicked at Garble’s voice and approach. The buff red dragon stomping up to them and roughly looking over the new arrivals. Ember, for her part, didn’t really care if Garble got himself killed. “Who are y—”
Garble gawked and stepped back as his eyes landed on Arkihs. “S-spike?! Is that you, you little shrimp?!”
Arkihs took a deep breath to calm his swelling anger, standing tall and poised, tails loosely coiled around his legs. “Yes, it’s me. But I go by Arkihs now.”
“Pfft!” The red drake wheezed, erupting into a chuckling fit. “Arkihs?! What kind of name is that?!”
“The name his mother gave him.” Ihkerah loomed over Garble like a stalking predator, her shadow engulfing him as he fell onto his back in fright. This little petulant dragon was weak and brash, slow minded and foolish. He smelled of nothing but disappointment.
“A-and who ar—”
“Food doesn’t talk. Food doesn’t get to know the name of their predator.” Black smoke engulfed the dragoness, her form shifting and growing to half her normal size. She was the same height as Torch, making Ember shutter as all those blazing eyes shifted to her. Ihkerah gently whispered, her titanic jaws moving, and her voice splitting rock. “I am Ihkerah, the Living Calamity, She Who Peers, and the World Divider. I am Daughter of the First Dragon Lord.”
“S-so… you’re our ancestor?” Ember managed not to sound like a whimpering beast, her spines trembling.
Arkihs was in awe of his mother, wanting to know the stories behind all those titles. She probably even had a few she hadn’t listed.
The land shook as Ihkerah hummed to herself, taking a soft sniff of the air. “No. But there is one among you I’ve met…”
Ember was astonished. “W-who?!”
The Living Calamity’s numerous eyes scanned the area, black mist leaching off her scales as she grew back to her full height. Finally, her eyes locked onto the eastern mountainside. “Ah, there you are…”
Standing on all fours and tenderly walking towards it, she pulled her arm back, plunging her claw into the compact dirt and stone. Seconds later, she pulled a resisting and grumbling Torch from inside the mountain. The former Dragon Lord grunted and clawed at the dragoness’ monstrous talons wrapped around his thick neck. The Ahamkara of Storms grinned, squeezing tighter to make him cease his efforts. “Hello again, Torch. It’s been a while…”
“W-what do you want, Seer?!” Torch, usually the most stoic and boisterous dragon Ember had ever known, whimpered in the dragoness’ larger shadow.
Ihkerah smirked. “Ah, you know one of my older titles. Good, you know of my power.”
“What kind of ‘things’ dear?” Her many eyes narrowed.
“I-I know what you did to get the World Divider title… p-please, spare my daughter that trauma.”
“Hm, I shall.” She shrugged, letting go of the former Dragon Lord.
It was then that Torch noticed Arkihs as he huffed, his eyes wide in amazement. “Aren’t you that little dragon from before? No, you couldn’t be.” Torch chuckled. “Fifty years and I could still squish you with my pinky claw! HA!”
“It wasn’t funny the first time, it isn’t funny now.” Arkihs deadpanned.
Torch nervously glanced at Ihkerah, who just watched the exchange with interest. He looked back to the little dark purple and green dragon. “True, apologies for my mistreatment of you. But you do seem to have changed, you certainly don’t look like any dragon I’ve ever seen, just like her.” He jabbed a claw in Ihkerah’s direction.
“That’s because we are Ahamkara.” Ihkerah rolled her multitude of eyes.
“And that is…?”
“This.” Arkihs said before his body was wreathed in teal fire.
Ember watched in horror as his silhouette morphed and contorted in on itself. Eyes and limbs grew where there once were none, even spotting a few maws and tentacles. She watched as he slowly transformed into a larger dragon. He grew and grew until he matched Torch in height. The crystals grew to enormous spikes on his back, his body as long as a serpent’s. The back of his neck and shoulders were covered in black spines, flicking and twitching whenever he sensed movement. Instead of his usual four limbs, he had grown a second pair of elongated forearms, just above his original arms. His head had slimmed out, his snout ending in a sharp point. His lower jaw, she noticed, had split down the middle, the two jawbones banded together by a span of flesh and green scales.
Arkihs mentally checked his new form, making sure that everything was functioning correctly. His mother had taught him the dangers of shapeshifting; it was easy to incorporate new limbs, but making sure that they didn’t interfere with vital organs was difficult. Sensing that everything was working well, Arkihs softly smirked and flexed the muscles in his new form.
All the surrounding dragons shivered and backed away. The adults looked on in curiosity and nervousness.
Torch gulped as the young Ahamkara’s form stood tall, their heights matching. Half of Arkihs’ jaw popped loose, then the other, giving way to a split jaw filled with legions of fangs. Arkihs’ voice was thicker with depth and volume, the sound of crackling fire behind each word. “Not bad, huh? What do you think? Should I keep it?”
Torch swallowed the tsunami of fear, shakily finding his voice in the former Spike’s shadow. “Heh, n-not bad kiddo.”
“Hhhhhmmmmm…” Ihkerah lumbered her way closer to Arkihs, observing his new form. The young drake found his slight height advantage towards his mother to be disorienting, but not unpleasant. He watched as she slowly circled him, stopping just to his right. “I like it. It suits an Ahamkara with your name.”
“U-uh…” Arkihs was pulled from his mother’s praise by Ember, his mind registering that she now only reached just past his stomach in height. “A-Arkihs?” “Hm?” He tilted his head.
Ember was blushing hard, sitting and nervously rubbing her claws together. “U-uh…”
“I swear, if that little sapphire becomes a yandere, I’m off to the next world.” A voice from high above shouted, prompting Ihkerah to freeze and roll her many eyes again.
“Fiirah, how good to see you again.” Ihkerah’s head reached into the clouds, to the nearby mountaintop. “Need help getting down?~”
Seconds later, everyone watched as a small blur of deep blues, blacks, and bronze came crashing down atop Torch’s head. The former Dragon Lord’s noggin was shoved to the ground in an instant, the individual responsible for his dismay elegantly hopping off. Arkihs slowly shifted back to his usual form, his eight eyes observing the newcomer.
He could only guess that she was a dragon, his senses silently informing him of her race. Ihkerah had also taught him about the numerous other species of dragons. This one in particular was an Ulkvah. Scales were replaced by large tufts of fur. Most of her body was covered in a dusk blue, a deep black overlaying her coat with little specks of golden glitter. Piercing peach eyes glanced at everyone as she walked forward, golden claws clicking on the hard packed ground. However, what was most striking about her was that she wore nothing but jewelry. From bracelets to necklaces, slender rings to enormous earrings that stretched the earlobe, and numerous rings that pierced her tail. All of the jewelry was pure gold.
Then, the newcomer’s gaze landed on Arkihs, making the underside of his jawline redden. She slowly approached, curved claws scraping on stone. She stopped before him, outmatching him in height by two feet.
A smirk graced her dazzling features. “So you’re Ihkerah’s new baby? I gotta say, she took in a lady-killer~”
His blush deepened, his eyes glancing away. That blush only deepened as she observed him.
Gently gripping his chin, his eyes met her’s as she hummed. Stepping to his left, she let go of his chin and her claws grazed his horns; six waves of polished black ivory.
“Hm…” Fiirah momentarily glanced at his physic, smiling. “A healthy and strong build, good horns.”
Feeling uncomfortable with this stranger, Arkihs fell back on instinct. “Uh, m-mom?”
“It’s alright, my dear.” He felt her comforting and strong hand on his head, finding that she had shifted again. “I’ve known Fiirah for millions of years and she’s never once been smitten with a hatchling.”
“If I should come across someone of that filth, they won’t be breathing the next morning~” Fiirah now looked over his tails, not caring how terrible she’d just sounded. “I’m not tasting any fractures or breaks in his bones or scales. Still lookin’ good.”
Utilizing her hips as a weapon, she shoved Ember several feet as she came around to Arkihs’ other side. “I might not be a physician, but I’ve lived long enough to know basic anatomy.”
Ember picked herself back up and whirled on Fiirah, baring her fangs and wings spread. Leaping into her attack, Ember was suddenly blown into a bolder by a huge gust of wind. Fiirah smirked as she faced Ember’s direction, flexing her golden claws. “Babe, you need to learn your place in the world. Let momma Fiirah tell you where it is…”
Within a second, the Ulkvah stood over Ember, faces inches apart. “It is as a wailing fledgling. I have lived eons in the span of your sixty-two years of life. I have amassed enough power that even Ihkerah, the Daughter of the First Dragon Lord, has respect for me. I may not be able to see as many things and places, but I can promise you, without a doubt, that your existence is a footnote in the world when compared to me. You haven’t outlived ten mates like I have, have you?”
Ember shuttered, sweat pouring down her scales as she sat in the shadow of this ancient creature. She tried to speak, tried to say something, but the words died in her throat as she stared into the eyes of Fiirah. Here stood a being older than her own father, who was growing older and weaker by the day, with power and wisdom beyond knowing. Ember could only whimper and curl in on herself.
Fiirah grunted as she stood and turned. “Hmph.”
She returned to a flabbergasted Arkihs and a disapproving Ihkerah. “What?”
-=Meanwhile=-
“Oof, that blue one took a beating.”
Damian tilted his head over the rock he was leaning against. “Yeah? Is it still going?”
“No,” Greg grumbled, having been watching from the ridge they lounged on. “The fuzzy one is talking with Arkihs and the chief.”
Damian’s snout scrunched. “Still getting used to his name.”
“Same. Been calling him Spike for so long, it’ll take some getting used to.”
“You ever think about changing your name?”
“What are you talking about?” Greg huffed, turning around as he sat up, cross-legged.
“Like what happened with Havaak? Or… Micah.”
“Don’t really see the point.”
Damian struggled to find the words. “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe we visit another Warg village, and they think our names are weird?”
“You get to deal with that, Beta. I’m happy where I am. I don’t have to go on any treaty talks.”
“Yet. If it’s between more than two packs, all the first of ranks have to come.”
“If that’s a joke, get better material.” Greg scowled.
“It isn’t.” Damian deadpanned. “You know, it’s no wonder you nabbed Maggie with that charm and charisma.”
The Delta smacked his forehead with a padded hand. “We were drunk…”
“Don’t give me that, ‘we married while intoxicated’ bull-crap! You nabbed her hook and sinker with your one-liners!”
“Hey, at least I don’t have leather bindings stuffed in the closet!” Greg snarled, showing his fangs.
Damian’s laughter quickly shifted to annoyance, a deep rumble in his chest. “That was uncalled for, Greg.”
The Delta snorted, the closest to an apology he’d been known to give, adding his own low growl. He sighed, his rage tempering. “I’m hungry…”
“Figures, you’re always cranky when you’re starving.”
Greg blinked, his nose twitching as he caught something. “You smell that?”
“What?” Damian sniffed the air, smirking. “The chili you had last night?”
“You had the last bowl, and you know it, fatso.”
“It takes a lot to keep these gains~”
“And a chocolate bar to lose them.”
The Beta huffed. “So what’d you smell? A rabbit?”
“No…” Greg sniffed again, closing his eyes as his head angled down. “It’s underground. It almost has this weird copper smell, but… better.”
“Crazy. Plan to—” Before he could finish his sentence, Greg was hard at work digging.
Ash, dirt, and rocks came flying overhead, landing on several unlucky dragons. Not knowing where the rocks came from, they guessed it was raining rocks.
Damian watched as Greg’s legs and tail vanished underground, the digging stopping soon after. He peeked into the dark hole, staring down into the blackness. “Uh… Greg? You find your lunch?”
Green flames sparked in the dark, their embers whipping through the black. A deep rumble clawed its way out from the depths. Damian heard the sound of chewing and the grinding of metal and stone.
“Greg?”
The chewing stopped for a second. “Huh? What?”
The Beta squinted, just barely making out his friend in the dark hole. “Uh… I don’t even know what I’m looking at…”
Amongst the darkness, dirt, and rocks, Damian found Greg with his cheeks full as bits of stone and metal crumbled from his lips. Greg slowly munched on his strangely pleasant meal, the rocks and metal snapping in his jaws like hard candy. It still had a very iron-like taste, but at least it was sweet.
“Are you seriously eating rocks?”
Greg crawled his way out of the hole with a few more scraps of metal ore, showing them to the Beta. “And this.”
Damian pinched the bridge of his snout, rubbing his brows. “I shouldn’t even be surprised with how much crud I’ve seen…”
The Delta just shrugged, going back to his exotic snack.
-=Meanwhile=-
Kaarda stepped from the bustling streets of Norora, pulling her dripping grey cloak from her back. Her pale fur shimmered in the candlelight as she entered the temple. Carved from polished marble, gleaming metals, and glittering jewels, the temple stood tall among the city’s towers. Placing her cloak down on the closest bleacher, she steadily walked up to the altar, pink and blue eyes glued to the ruins of their Holy Almighty. Her ears perked at the distant sound of practicing choir, their chants like a gentle melody to her.
Stepping up to the altar, she reached for the nearby rack of clean clothes and draped it over her head. Kneeling, she folded her hands as she began her prayer.
So focused on her meditation, she failed to notice an older male stalking up behind her from the shadows. He greedy smirk was plastered on his snout, desire in his eyes as he gazed at Kaarda. He was dressed in fine silks and pearly furs, the attire for a priest. He was within reach of the unsuspecting female, claws extending. He would have this female… and he would be her true mate.
His claws an inch away from her slender neck, a much stronger claw gripped the priest’s. The perverted Warg felt a chill race through him as a low growl was whispered in his ear, with a voice that was possibly twice as old as he. “I will have words with you…”
Not waiting for an answer, the elder silently dragged the priest into a backroom, in the farthest corner of the sanctuary. A Ward of yellow flame entombed the room, silencing all activity from the rest of the temple. A dim flash of light, blood pooled at the foot of the door, and the spell lifted.
Kaarda exhaled, “Amen…”
Opening her eyes, she jumped at seeing the elder, carrying a bundle and wiping his hands with a wet cloth. “A-Alpha Duume. Y-Your grace…”
She blushed, hardly ever been in the presence of her pack’s leader. Duume smiled, his deep, gravelly voice reminding her of her late grandfather. “It’s no trouble, Kaarda. Are you finished with your prayer?”
“Y-yes…” She took the cloth from her head and placed it in the basket next to the rack, pulling a small bundle of her own from her robes. She placed it on the altar, licking her dry lips as she looked back at the Alpha. “U-um, m-my youngest turned twenty today…”
“That is a good age, expecting any grandpups soon?” Duume smiled warmly.
Kaarda held in a giggle. “Hardly, the poor pup has to find a mate for that!”
“Then my hopes and prayers are with your family.”
She bowed. “Thank you, my Alpha.”
Duume bowed back and watched as she left for home. His smile vanished as soon as the great doors slammed shut. His face turning grim, he placed his bundle on the altar, a small amount of red staining the cloth. He then threw the drenched rag into the bin and pulled a clean cloth over his grey and black head, his pale blue eyes glaring down. He had no rings in his eyes. “Dear Father, I ask that you forgive me for an unworthy prey, for such a plagued offering. I shall offer a double portion this next week for you. But such filth shouldn’t be housed in your temple. Again, please forgive me. Amen.”
Throwing his cloth in the basket, he turned to leave with his hands folded behind his back. But before he left, he looked to the nearby janitor.
“Clean that up.” Duume nodded to the blood pooled under the door.
The janitor nodded shakily, suppressing a shiver as he opened the door. The janitor stared for a moment, then clenched his fangs and went to gather his supplies.
The choir still chanted…
The city still bustled…
The dead body’s robes were shredded, and a bloody hole carved into his torso.
“Kevin…” The sandy tabby lightly smacked his forehead, his strange, yet British-like accent dancing between his teeth. “You already owe Gwen a fair amount, don’t come asking me for more stocks.”
“But Rol, please?” The Warg knelt, begging on the other side of the stall, his larger frame threatening to make the shack creak. “I promise I’ve got the marrow this time!”
“Then use it to settle your debt to Gwen!” Rolfraas’ yellow eyes narrowed, his little whiskers twitching in irritation. He fixed his worn green cloak and dusty chin-high neckline, the small scruff that made his beard staying hidden. “Do that, then I might be convinced to allow purchase.”
Kevin groaned, letting his head drop onto the small counter. He looked up at the tan Moggy, hoping against hope. “How many do you have again?”
“Two.”
“W-when will you have more?”
Rol hummed, sounding almost like a purr. “Within the next year.”
“W-wha… WHAT?!?!” Kevin then flew into a panic, grabbing the stall and shaking it like a madman.
Digging his little claws into the wood of his counter, Rol quickly grasped a silver hilt and pressed the switch. With some expert aim dashed in, a long pole sprung from the hilt on both ends. One end stabbed the ground behind the stall and the other, being completely blunt, struck Kevin in the chin. The result was a passed-out Warg and a frazzled Moggy franticly checking his workspace for damage. Rol breathed a sigh of relief, the only damages he’d found was from his own claws.
“Rol?” A sweaty voice danced in the Moggy’s eardrums, turning to see Wirh. She was a Genchyn, looking similar to Kitsunes, only shorter and stockier. The Genchyn had only one poofy tail throughout their lives, their fur always a pristine white. Her cheeks padded with red pouter; her scarlet eyes looked to the fallen Kevin in disappointment. “I’m guessing that he took it too far again?”
Rol rolled his eyes. “The poor pup nearly ripped my roof off.”
Wirh sighed, stepping past the Warg to the Moggy. “Tried to give it to him directly?”
“The pup just wouldn’t listen…” Rol rubbed his eyes, amazed at his own patience. He looked back to Wirh. “Did you need anything, Salesfem?”
“I had hoped to get some peaches, but I definitely could use more elixir.”
“Wellllll…” He raced behind his stall, searching his cabinets and boxes for her purchase. “I don’t have any more of the cherry flavored… but,” He grinned, pulling up a small box of crystal bottles, each filled with a thick golden liquid. “I found this new honey flavored—”
“YES!” Rol blinked as she pulled her purse from her shoulder. “How much for two bottles?”
The Moggy cleared his throat to reorient his mind. “That much? Eh, but then again, it is that time of year… four marrows for two.”
“Mhm.” She handed him the currency and pulled the bottles safely into her purse, nodding toward the still out-cold Kevin. “What me to send over Vruudya?”
“Please.”
With that, Wirh was off, taking her time as she walked through the town of titans. Many for the Wargs gave her space as she walked, kindly letting her scamper about at her leisure. She heard a bit of commotion up the road and to her left, deciding to check on the local tavern. Standing just outside the doors, she was greeted by Gwen, the strong and rough bartender, tossing yet another pair of troublemakers out. Wirh showed a smile to the Wargess’ face, both pairs of crimson eyes meeting.
“Hey Wirh, how you been?” Gwen sounded pleased to see her, a rarity.
“Very good as of late, but… if you see Vruudya, could you send her to Rol’s shop?”
“Did some idiot make trouble?”
“Well…” Her big ears sank.
Gwen sighed, groaning. “Kevin?”
“Y-yes…”
The Wargess groaned even louder, rubbing her face with both hands. “Sure… I’ll send her over.”
“Great! I was going to stop by the library, did you want me to find you anything?” Wirh smiled, her fuzzy ears twitching.
“Err… no, I’m good. Thanks anyway.” Gwen tried to keep a straight face, biting her cheek. “Be seein’ ya.”
“Same to you.” With that, the two parted.
“Havaak!” The Alpha of Desolation perked his ears at a silvery voice, checking the grilling teriyaki chicken for burns.
“Yeah?”
“I need help…” Luna sounded a little dejected and agitated.
“Just a second.” He then flipped the chicken onto a plate, dousing the fire. Wiping his hands, he came into the living room, searching for his beloved with the plate of freshly cooked meat. “Where are you?”
“In the study.” His mate groaned.
He walked in to find Luna sitting at their desk, slumped down in the chair. She was blushing and pouting with her cheeks puffed, arms crossed over her large belly. “I need uppies.”
He smiled warmly, stepping up to the desk, setting the plate down, and holding out his hand for her. “My lady?~”
With a strained grunt, Luna gripped his hand, hauled herself out of the chair, and onto her feet. Havaak noticed she had a little perk in her step as she stood, making him smirk. “You didn’t need help.”
“No.” She admitted, smirking back as she stuck her tongue out. “I just wanted to be rescued~”
The Alpha grunted and giggled, shaking his head.
“And I smelled these…” Luna loomed and drooled over the plate of marinated chicken, right before her husband snatched it away. She nearly burst into tears. “MICAH!!”
“I was going to serve them with rice. Do you want rice with the chicken?” He asked pointedly.
Luna pouted, crossing her arms and puffing her fuzzy cheeks. “And pickle juice…”
Havaak suppressed a shutter as he neared the exit to the kitchen. “Sure…”
“And peppers too.”
“Yes dear.” He paused as he filled a pot with water, seeing a roll of paper on the counter, bound in green silk, a silver emblem pinned to it. Bringing it to himself with his magic, he unrolled the scroll. It was from Karipuur, Luna’s father. Havaak found himself swallowing, subconsciously dreading the news written on the weathered paper.
-Greetings to the Alphas of Dragneel,
You have been cordially invited to Ekklesia, the Council of Alphas. We will not be discussing anything of high importance, it’ll just be an introduction. You shall meet the other Alphas, officially. I trust you will be wise in who you bring with you. Bring those you know that will be silent when needed and fluent when needed.
I trust Luna is doing well. Is the litter healthy? She is thirty years into her carrying, a fourth of the way finished with their gestation. I pray that all will remain well, my son-in-law. Allow this old Warg to hear the cries and wails of his grandpups.
Signed, Karipuur
-=Meanwhile=-
The world was old. The mountains and rivers had risen and shifted throughout millennia. Runes of lesser creatures and former civilizations dotted the land, even close to modern territories. The ruins of an old castle, positioned outside of Norora, were no different.
Below the rotting rafters of an ancient hall, Duume sat on a crumbling throne. Pale light spilled in from cracks in the ceiling, bathing the room as the Alpha sensed six young Wargs silently entered. They kept to the shadows, Duume kept his bored expression. He didn’t even have to extend his senses to tell where they were and what they were doing. They came for blood.
He knew they’d been stalking him for the past week, watching him. He had decided to give them an obvious opening. This ruin was outside of his city’s limits, allowing for much destruction. He was without armor or weapons, almost defenseless.
“Perfect place for an ambush, don’t you think?” Duume snarked, smirking in the dim light. “Secluded. Dark. Plenty of places to hide.”
There was silence, then a young male spoke, voice thick with a northern accent. “And? If you know we’re here, why not attack?”
“Because… I’m too busy thinking…”
“A-about… what?”
“The upcoming Ekklesia. My goddaughter’s ceremony. The Alpha of Desolation. The situation down at the docks. The scrapping pups, trying to scare me.” Duume balled his fist. “And I’m wondering… why am I even bothering entertaining them?”
“W-we didn’t come to kill you!” The Warg swallowed with his lie, his stress building as he pressed himself against the fallen wall. “W-we’re just—"
“Tell me… how should I kill my killers?” The would-be assassin slung his head to the left, finding a pair of icy blue, ringless eyes glaring inches away from his face. His breathing grew shallow, his hearts all pounded behind his dark clothes and single chest plate. Duume grasped his head, prying him off the wall and bringing his ear close to his snout. He stared at the pup with a cold gaze, crystal blue eyes shining in the shadows. “You don’t have the bloodline of Nahar, do you?”
Without waiting for his stuttering answer, Duume incinerated the Warg. He dropped the charred corpse on the grimy floor. He smelled five more.
Focusing on their positions, he summoned his powers over the elements, green flame swallowing him. Cupping his hands together at ultrasonic speeds, a ball of green liquid formed. It was sent flying to a Wargess in the corner, expanding into a tsunami of acid. A yellow sphere of fire engulfed the screaming Wargess, the acid trapped with her as the sphere steadily shrunk. He heard bone crack and meat sizzle.
“You children have never waged war, have you? Your dreams drowned in blood?” Duume snarled, teleporting next to a Warg in a shower of sparks. The Warg, for his part, didn’t panic and instead slashed the Alpha across the nose. Duume snarled again, snorting blood. Grasping the buckle of the Warg’s belt, Duume shaped it into a knife, pressing it to the assassin’s gut. But he didn’t press it between the ribs; he flicked it, his power amplifying the sound a hundred-fold. The shockwave from that single ping gifted the walls a new crimson paint-job.
Seeing their two companions fall to the Alpha, the four remaining assassins rushed Duume from the shadows. The old Alpha smiled.
For the third, Duume kicked him through a wall. The fourth was crushed under increased gravity, only a bloody crater leaving any visible trace of his existence. Duume then snatched the last two by the throats, still smirking at them.
The fifth watched in horror as his companion remained hanging by his throat, as Duume let go and gently pressed his fingertips to his chest. Duume chuckled as he thrust his hand into the Warg’s chest, the one-inch-punch rendering the fifth a bloody mess.
“Then, there was one…” Duume looked to the last surviving assassin held by the throat, glaring with a cold air. “Allow me to show you a Forbidden Power before you die.”
The final assassin’s green eyes widened in horror, struggling and beating against the claw that held him. He managed to croak out, blood gushing from his throat, “N-no! Y-you can’t—“
Raising his other hand, Duume grimaced and stuffed a claw into the last surviving Warg’s throat. A small ball of black, flowing liquid spilled down into his bowls. Duume then dropped him and slowly walked up the dais. The Warg coughed and gasped for breath, gasping for breath. “W-what… did yo—”
His question was halted by his own screams, clutching his stomach in his agony. Just as his scream reached its highest note, reality itself split. Like cracks in a window, everything that made him fragmented, billions of cracks spiderwebbing on and around him. His screams were soon drowned out by the sound of shattering glass and loud whispers, speaking of the Vordan Lord. “This isn’t the one…”
With those words, the Warg shattered into sparks of shimmering light. Duume clenched his teeth, his will crushing his oncoming shutter. He looked around in a slight panic, fully expecting someone to appear. After a moment, he sighed, sitting in the ruined throne in relief.
“The Sisters are waiting for another; won’t you entertain them?” Duume sucked in a panicked breath and bolted up, head swiveling. He found two sets of glowing yellow eyes in a dark corner, the sight making him suppress another shutter. He blinked and the entity was gone.
Not soon after, the rotten doors of the old hall burst open. Wargs, wearing trench coats, gas masks, and heavy packs stormed into the hall in formation. They all halted before the Alpha, rifles at the ready in the dark room. The company of Krieg stopped, all staring down Duume.
Then, their company split down the middle, creating a synchronized path to the door for Duume. The Alpha shook of his remaining terror and stood tall for his Krieg.
“Follow.” Duume commanded without any hesitation or doubt, stoic as he marched to the door. The Kreig obeyed, stepping in behind him two by two.
Duume exited the ruins, looking over a cleared forest with legions of Kreig. Battleships blanketed the skies. A massive carrier, matching the size of eldest wyrms, cast the entire landscape in shadow. Duume looked on, unfazed.
He turned to a Kreigsman standing at attention. “Report.”
Though his voice was muffled by the mask, Duume still heard his soldier’s words. “The Quin are no longer a threat.”
“We’re they ever? All we wanted was their lands, and they died for their pride… return to your post.”
The Kreig saluted and marched away. Duume gazed out into the billions of rows, all filled with his soldiers. His Kreigsmen. His Sons of War.
The multitudes then let out a singular cry. “HAIL TO THE ALPHAETERNAL!!”
“If we’re seriously doing this, why are we here so frickin’ early?” Gwen groaned in her seat, arms on the table as she looked to everyone else in the flying craft, their forms illuminated by the bowl’s dim fire. She wore a long, sleek black dress with her ashen grey hair pulled back by braids.
“Promptness is prudent.” Luna smiled across the way, adjusting her position to sit more comfortably, glancing at the two sleeping Wargs. “Besides, it lets the boys catch shut eye.” She also wore a long white gown, a shorter teal overshirt that was pulled and tied back.
Housed in a sleek shuttle of grey metal, the four Wargs of Dragneel were being escorted to the Ekklesia, the Council of Alphas. Their craft swiftly flew over valleys and mountains, far to the south of their home. They had been traveling for two days, yet were only hours away from their destination.
“What got them so tuckered out?” Gwen held in a snort, gently stroking a stray hair back into place on Damian’s cheek. Luna noted that it was one of the gentlest behaviors she’d ever seen Gwen do, smirking as she caressed her round midriff. “Oh, Havaak was stressing himself over the Ekklesia. Then the little ones wouldn’t calm down enough for me to sleep, so he took it upon himself to calm them for me.”
“And Damian didn’t come back until midnight. I doubt you guys had anything to do with that.”
“He helped Maggie clean the tavern after your little… episode?”
Gwen snarled softly and blushed, looking to Damian. “Frostbite… sorry about that…”
The beefy Warg snorted in his sleep.
Their ride soon slowed to a stop, the cushioned door sliding open to a huge, winding metal structure in the pouring rain. Havaak and Damian woke as their mates nudged and bonked them awake, stepping into the cold wind as an armored guard approached. He wore grey cybernetic armor, outfitted with numerous gadgets and weapons, his voice echoing slightly in the helmet. “Greetings Alphas and Betas. You’ve arrived early today, I’m sure the High Alpha will be glad.”
Havaak only nodded and grunted in reply, following the armored Warg past the entrance of the tower. He wore a brown sleeveless long coat, grey manticore fur lining the interior and the collar. The coat encased his dark green shirt with silver lining and pressed trousers, keeping his attire formal but relaxed. Damian wore a similar jacket with long sleeves, but it was made of black leather and had many chains. A red bracer on each wrist, spanning down to his elbows.
The group was led through the tower, stepping aboard a strange elevator that hovered above the floor. With a flick of a switch, the contraption ascended. Soon the elevator stopped, the doors melted away, uncovering a large room with no roof. Yet the rain was stopped by a flaming dome, providing shelter to the Wargs already seated.
At the head of the long table sat Karipuur and Jurdehn, the High Alphas respectively, several of their close relatives and litters behind them. To their left sat a dark grey Wargess, a coat of fine furs and gold draped across her shoulders and decorative chair. Next to her sat a Warg with sky blue fur and white undertones. He was dressed sharply, yet roughish, exuding confidence and keeping a warm smile.
Jurdehn smiled as she stood and quickly walked around the other two Wargs, almost running to greet her family. “Luna, Havaak! You made it. I trust the travel wasn’t too rough?”
“No, the journey was good, mother.” Luna smiled as she embraced the older Wargess, who greeted Havaak similarly. “So, how are the duties of an Alpha treating you, Havaak?”
Havaak smirked and shrugged. “Not too bad. A few rough nights here and there, but a job’s a job.”
“Good, good.” She then led them over to the other two unknown Wargs. “Dragneel Alphas, meet the Toresk Alpha and Beta of Mye sno.”
The Wargess turned and stood, extracting a bronze sphere with a small nozzle. Her silver rings clinked on the object as she lifted it to her lips, breathing in and exhaling a plume of purple smoke that faded to grey. She looked at the newcomers, examining them and their attire with her amber eyes, gold rings pulsing softly.
Jurdehn waved a hand in front of her snout, struggling not to cough. “Vuurak, please, not in here…”
Vuurak smirked and blew another cloud skyward, speaking with a silky voice with a slight roughness to it. “You’ll have to forgive unbreakable habits, Jurdehn. Which would you rather? The smoke or the booze? I have to keep my nerves down somehow.”
“Heh, I certainly don’t mind the booze~” Smirked the blue Warg, Vuurak’s Beta, offering Havaak his hand. “Tuusk, Beta of Mye sno. You’re the Warg who wiped out that pony cult, right?”
Havaak could decide if he wanted to smirk or scowl at the memory of the ponies, keeping a neutral expression. “Yeah. They were a good warm up…”
Tuusk awkwardly smirked. “Well, I couldn’t imagine what it was like changing your entire species. From rumor, you were transformed into a Warg? I suppose they would be a warmup. Think you’re ready to run with us?”
“I’d rather not count my chickens just yet.”
The room suddenly grew quiet and cold.
Everyone’s fur stood on end. They froze. Havaak held in a swallow of slight panic. He turned, feeling the heavy presence of a powerful entity. Stepping through the door was Ihkerah, her scaled form radiating power beyond the wealthy robes she wore. Flanking her were two other dragons, Arkihs and Fiirah.
Even after half a century of knowing her, Havaak still felt ready to shrink away as she approached, her six eyes glancing separately around the room. “I approve, Alpha. No sense in proclaiming something before it’s done.”
“So this is the famous Ekklesia, the grand meeting hall of the highest Alphas?” Fiirah chuckled, sauntering around the room in her blue silken robes. She eyed Karipuur as she waltzed up to the table and sat at the other end, lounging in the huge chair, and propping her clawed feet up. “It’s definitely… smaller than I’d imagined.”
Karipuur narrowed his grey eyes, flashing his fangs. “What do you want, dragon?”
“You degrade us, High Alpha~” Ihkerah smirked at the blind Warg. “Do not we have the power to be wherever we choose?~”
The High Alpha snorted, slowly standing to glare in their direction. In a flash of green fire, Karipuur was in Ihkerah’s face, hand on a short sword that clicked back into its sheath.
Havaak blinked, having dodged and looking around as he felt goosebumps across his back. He’d managed to safely push Luna and the others away, the tiled floor and walls cracked close to where they’d stood.
The Ahamkara was unbothered as a small hole had been sliced in the wall and was now crumbling to the earth far below. She glared at the High Alpha, who resisted his urge to cower under her shadow. “Careful little pup, you almost scratched four of my gems. You wouldn’t want to upset me, would you?~”
“You weren’t invited, and this meeting is for Warg Alphas only.” Kaipuur’s voice was unyielding.
Ihkerah smiled, folding her hands. “I go where I please, little Warg.”
“I could break this entire mountain and more.”
“I could shatter this world… oh wait, I already did~”
Havaak couldn’t tell if it was dust or the thick tension he was seeing. No one dared to speak or even move. Arkihs slunk to the other side of the room, watching as the Dragneel Wargs joined him.
Fiirah sighed, polishing her claws. “Is that skinny twig going to get this meeting started, or should we just let the stiff plot roll along?”
“Hmm…” Ihkerah pondered, spinning on her heels and leaving the High Alpha to his brooding. “Yes, we’ve stirred enough trouble… but I love a good twist~”
As the rain poured outside, the dragoness erected a seat for herself and Arkihs. Karipuur glared at Fiirah until she joined the other dragons, returning to his own seat. “Now, let’s wait for the others.”
As they waited, Havaak noticed that each seat had its own design and décor. Ranging from simple wooden chairs to spectacular thrones. The one he currently sat in was a simple wooden throne, no carvings or decorations.
It didn’t take long for the other Alphas to arrive, the seats slowly becoming filled. He noticed one in particular that he recognized. “Connor?”
The grey Warg with amber eyes glared, red rings pulsing. “Oh look, it’s the softy.”
“How’s life in the tundra?” Havaak ignored the jab.
Connor snarled, having taken a seat two down from the Alpha of Desolation. The white Wargess between them ignored them as she read her scroll, her large bat wings shifting. “We’re getting along fine, thanks.”
“Good.” Havaak nodded, a small weight coming off his shoulders, happy that the small band that had split from his were doing well. Even if he and Connor didn’t get along, he still wanted them to thrive.
Vuurak huffed a plume of smoke, sitting back in her throne. “Kemuus?”
A tan Wargess, slightly shorter than Havaak, stepped up beside her Alpha. “Yes Alpha?”
“Go get everyone refreshments… and check on Tuusk, make sure he didn’t leave a mess after our… draconic visit…”
Kemuus seemed to hold back a groan. “Yes Alpha.” She then left to fulfill her tasks.
“Oh no…” A brown Warg, dressed in leather armor and rags snarled as he looked out the window. “The Arbiter is approaching.”
Everyone but Connor and the Dragneel Wargs groaned and sighed. Needless to say, they were confused.
Damian looked to Kemuus as she handed him a big mug of water. “What’s the Arbiter?”
The Wargess made a face, her snout scrunching. “The Arbiter is a huge boat that’s captained by the Grudge Keeper.”
“And that is?” The muscular Warg asked.
“You’ll see.” She smirked, walking oof.
Damian blinked. Was she swaying her hips before?
Gwen quietly glared daggers at the other Wargess.
Damian didn’t have to wait long to get his answer, as several minutes later, the doors creaked open to reveal Duume. The old Warg’s icy stare surveyed the room, momentarily landing on Havaak, before glaring at Karipuur. “We aren’t due for an assembly.”
“I decided to move it up a century.” Karipuur kept an even tone, eyes narrowed.
“I agree!” Came a warm, cheerful voice from behind Duume, the tallest known Warg with brown fur and white highlights. He wore heavy white armor, barely hiding his muscular, twelve-foot build that could rival Damian’s. The left side of his face was stained with ginger fur, possibly a birthmark, yet he wore a natural warm smile. “I must say, this meeting was a surprise!”
Duume turned and stepped forward, taking a seat with four Kreig flanking him. “Yes, Shahxx. None of us intended to be here.”
“There’s nothing wrong with an unexpected get-together. Especially when meeting new faces!” Shahxx smile widened somehow, his silver eyes glancing at each new Warg, his orange rings pulsing as he spotted Damian. “Ah! I see I may have a new best friend! You look like you can hold your own in a good brawl. Want to trade punches sometime?” As Shahxx sat down across from Havaak, Vuurak exhaled a ring of smoke. “Shahxx, where’s Sovv? Your Crimson Bond get stuck in another meeting or desk work?”
“Only when my mate sings, Vuurak.” A soft hum emanated from a floating silver chair, carrying a white Wargess with indigo highlights, dressed in a baggy shirt and a thick blanket draped over her legs.
“And I never sing!” Shahxx smirked, caressing Sovv’s cheek as she halted next to him.
“I’m sure Sovv can attest to your silvery pipes, but we have a meeting to start. Please Shahxx.” Karipuur said, folding his hands. “Does anyone have any matters to attend before we welcome our young Wargs?”
“I was attacked by a small band of assassins several days ago.” Duume kept his tone even, no distress or anger, speaking slowly. “I only know a few who have ties to the assassin guilds. It wasn’t until I saw their crests that I knew who sent them. Don’t you think it’s odd, Vuurak, how the Shadowed Ones entered my territory unnoticed?”
“Why dear Alpha Duume, I have no—” Vuurak stopped as a blade was held to her throat, a Kreig standing behind her in the shadows, the light shimmering off the large circular lenses. The Wargess didn’t demand anything, just glared at the old Alpha.
“I imagine that they used a similar method to hide their scents, much like my Kreig.” Duume’s ringless eyes narrowed.
“Duume, if you would…” Jurdehn hissed, various bone spikes slowly sprouting from her arms in a silent threat.
“Of course.” Duume signaled the Krieg to join his brethren at his side.
“And the others.” The High Wargess glared.
Duume smirked. “Sharp eye.” He signaled again, and ten more Krieg stepped into the light, having been hidden by unknown powers. They returned to their master’s side. “Happy?”
“Very.” While Jurdehn smiled, everyone else held back shivers. They all could’ve been killed in seconds. Duume looked to Havaak again, the younger Alpha wanting to hide from the dangerous foe. Duume glowered at Havaak, dissatisfied. “I see that the new Alphas are weak. They cower, they show their fear. Why not send them to the Deep? Their fear would be replaced by confidence.”
All older Alphas either gasped or stared at Duume, some snarling. Both High Alphas were of the latter group, Karipuur being the first to vocalize his raging thoughts. “YOU WOULD SEND MY DAUGHTER TO THAT HELLSCAPE?!”
“No.” Duume shook his head as Karipuur sneered at him. “Not in her current condition, at least. No, I suggest the Alpha of Desolation and his Beta be sent there, as a true test of strength. After all, we’ve all been interested in Havaak’s growth. Why not place bets?”
“And sending me there… would help us grow stronger?” Havaak asked, leaning on his elbows. “Why? Wouldn’t I be a threat to you at some point?”
Duume smiled, an action that he clearly didn’t make a habit of doing, as his smile was fit for a horror movie. “Why waste potential?”
“Y-you’re not concerned that I’d be a threat?” Havaak was more curious than shocked.
“That’s the thing, Alpha of Desolation…” He smiled a little wider, his fangs on full display. “I want you to be a threat to me~”
“I’m not, at the moment?” Instead of answering verbally, Duume was crouched on the table, in Havaak’s face within a quarter of a second.
“No.” With speed that outmatched most present, Havaak was punched and clawed, being sent flying from his seat and into the wall. Havaak fell to the floor, leaving a spiderweb crater, groaning.
Damian leapt from his seat and pulled out his Chaos Blades, cold mist flowing from his jaws, only to get clobbered by Duume. Damian quickly scrambled to his feet and rushed Duume, his weapons having been lost somewhere. The Grudge Keeper just watched the Beta with a bored expression, blocking all his punches with little effort.
“Forgive me, I was wrong. You both need this.” Conviction in his icy stare, Duume grabbed Damian’s head and flung him next to Havaak. He was preparing to open a portal when Duume felt a surge of power to his left, seeing both Dragneel females standing ready to fight.
“I am many ugly things, but I strive to be a gentleman at my best moments.” His glare narrowed. “Don’t make me deprive the world of you.”
Havaak was suddenly grasping for Duume, but the older Alpha snatched him by the throat and tossed him into a recovering Damian. Duume blocked a swipe of Gwen’s claws and backhanded her across the room. The Wargess was safely caught by Shahxx’s Chroma and deposited back into her seat.
Duume watched as Luna called her spear and ignited her saber, teleporting to the Alpha as she swung and spun her weapons. Jurdehn watched with a mix of worry and pride as Luna showed her experience in battle. However, Duume blocked her advances with his magics and claws. Sparks flew as metal clashed with claw, all the colors of Chroma spiraling, lighting the room at single moments.
Duume dodged Luna’s next strike by a heir’s length, grasping the spear and pulling it from her. Yet, Luna wasn’t left defeated, swinging and slashing her saber at him with expert attacks. Duume effortlessly stepped to the side with each strike, flicking the energy blade out of her hands. Luna still had yet to back down, brandishing her claws. Jurdehn’s parental instincts kicked in as her Chroma grasped a flying Luna and pulled her back. Duume turned his gaze to the female High Alpha. “A wise decision.”
Seconds later, Havaak and Damian stumbled to their feet, only to fall back to the ground as gravity was reinforced several times over, and through a sparking portal. Luna and Gwen screamed in rage, struggling against Jurdehn’s magic grip.
Duume watched as the portal closed, tossing Damian’s forgotten weapons in before the portal fizzled out, turning to look at the two weeping Wargesses. “If they are as powerful as you believe they are, then they will return.”
||THE DEEP||
Damian groaned and snarled as he got to his knees, shaking the dirt off him. The chains on his coat clinked as he stood, spotting Havaak not too far away, under the red sky.
Havaak sat on a rock with his elbows on his knees and hands clasped under his chin. His gaze swept across the cursed land, scanning the numerous skeletons and red sand. Down in the valley was a lake that reflected the red sky, the two suns hidden behind a dark haze that rolled over the mountains.
Both Wargs yelped and jumped back as the far mountain range began to shift and rise. A great yellow eye opened and the head of a serpent lifted from the earth. It’s massive tongue flicked out, its eye rolling to stare at the two.
They stayed still, desperately waiting for the giant creature to loose interest. Its pupil thinned into a slit, slowly turning to the north. The serpent began slithering, causing the ground to tremble continuously as it moved. Havaak and Damian gritted their teeth and began slowly crawling toward a nearby cave, hoping to retreat from the terrifying phenomenon. Havaak looked to Damian as the used the cave walls for support. “Any chance the place won’t collapse with all the shaking?”
“Don’t know. But it’s better than being out there with that thing, or anything worse…” Damian let out a shaken breath, trying to calm his nerves as he gripped the wall.
“Still got your weapons?”
“Check.” Damian managed to smirk as he brandished his Chaos Blades.
They descended deeper into the cave, ears and noses on high alert. There were no branching tunnels, only the single long cave. They stopped in mild curiosity as they reached a set of tall, stone double doors. A large iron ring acted as the handles on each door.
Their guards still up, Havaak kept watch as Damian grasped the rings. Feeling the weight of each door in his arms as he tugged, the Beta could tell that this would be a slightly difficult task for him. Moving such doors would be completely impossible for a pony or human, but it was doable for a Warg. The great doors scraped together and against the rough floor. Damian pulled and pulled, the doors slowly opening as the pressure of the room beyond was released, a gust of stale air hitting his face. Havaak turned as the air hit his back, almost knocking him over if he hadn’t rescued his footing.
Once the doors were open, the two stared at their thickness. Each door was five feet of solid stone. Damian heaved a breath, sighing as he panted. “Damn…”
Havaak rolled his shoulders to try and release tension, stepping past the mighty doors. The cavern exploded outward, the ceiling being several hundred feet high. The walls were smooth, the massive chamber decorated with a tiled floor that spiraled into itself. A circular plato encompassed the white tiles, lit lanterns hanging from the ceiling on chains. Spanning the chains were spiderwebs that swayed in the breeze, a large circular window at the highest point of the far wall, letting the dim light shine through.
They stepped into the room, standing on the large tile floor, believing it to span thirty feet in diameter. As they observed the grand hall, a silvery voice called from the shadows.
“Well now, this is an interesting development.” A few clicks sounded after the feminine voice, like heavy mandibles. “Two Wargs, both aspiring for power?”
Havaak managed to swallow his terror, standing tall. “We were… sent here against our wills. If you could please help us get back home, we’d be very grateful.”
“Oh? Without your consent? Let me guess, an older Warg sent you?”
“Y-yes…”
“That’s unfortunate, but a regular thing.” The voice sighed. “The elderly always believe they’re ways are best. I unfortunately can’t send you back on a whim. In order to leave, you must break the circle of stone you stand on.”
Havaak and Damian looked down at the tiled floor. Damian’s curiosity got the best of him. “And why not just a door?”
There was a short pause. “Don’t know. It’s always been that way. Perhaps the builders of this old temple let their creativity take control?”
Havaak spoke again, more certainty in his voice. “And how do we do that? Why are you helping us?” “Grow in power until the very earth trembles at your approach.” The chains rattled and webs shook as something big and multi-limbed skittered through the dark.
Bathed in the window’s light, the owner of the voice and temple descended upon silver threads. A creature, much like a spider, appeared from the shadows. White chitin was interrupted by large tufts of tan fur on all joints. Eight long legs ending in sharp talons hugged the webs, attached to a pale thorax. From the thorax sprouted a fuzzy feminine body, four arms covered in tan fur, sharp talons acting as fingers. Her head shrouded in a hood made of silk, her six red eyes gazed softly at them from high above. Her fuzzy mandibles clicked as she giggled like a high school girl. “Hello, I’m pleased to meet you face to face.”
Light reflected off her pale chitin, cascading from behind the large creature as she landed on her spindly legs, a hand of her fluffy chest. “As for your second question… I am the Spindled Harald, guide and nurturer of those who seek power. And you, O Alpha of Desolation, have an endless cup to fill. Do you accept my help?~”
“What do you think, Havaak? Do you accept?~” Ihkerah smirked as she formed into existence next to all present, earning several gasps.
