The Birth of a Death

[Hraefn]

Part V - Revised and edited for my own peace of mind! xD

"Hello darkness, my old friend,
Ive come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence."
-The Sound of Silence, Simon & Garfunkel

And so her foresight had been correct. Everything she’d prophesized to happen had now come to pass as she lay broken and twisted on the grassy valley of the small island, the last of her life’s water draining from her chest and throat. She’d died plenty of times before. One could say that it was a customary way of life, but this one was different. With this passing, she could feel her essence, was not departing to it’s checkpoint in order to be thrown back into the body. Not even the magic of Recall could bring her body back to the shrine. The purple haze and blue smoke would only fizzle at her paws and cause her limps to fade, but then it gave out.

With the last of her energy, she turned her remaining eye toward her murderer, her son. Silhouetted by the bright moon behind him, he looked to be only a black void shaped into a dragon’s outline. Standing on his haunches, he was massive and with his giant wings splayed behind him, he could’ve passed off as the Sleeper’s younger brother. The sight was both awesome and frightening.

And she was so proud of him.

Focusing her vision, Hraefn could tell he was channeling the last of her soul past his chest and into his dark, crystalline heart. The opaque and colorful sphere of it churned just a few inches away from her body before streaming through the triangle shape Hrajiel formed with his digits to finally plunge past dark chest plates. As the process continued, his form grew; she knew he was taking her ancient form in this grizzly rite. Consuming what power she had in her elder age, he took an ancient body – with or without the blessings of their god.

Absently, she questioned what Drulkar would have to say about it. He would likely be furious. She imagined all the different sorts of punishments the First One could dole out and found she was thankful that her soul would not return to him. No, it would stay safe and useful inside her son’s artificial heart. It was a good death, she’d prefer to die by no other weapon than a dragon’s talons and teeth and she was even happier that those talons had been born of her blood and effort.

As the land shook and the sky grew red with his ascension, the dying dragoness managed to form a smile on her maw. Glad to see her son take his final form; contented to be a part of it. It was a good way to die. And death took her as soon as her single amber eye closed, the last of her soul being sipped away by Hrajiel’s black heart, leaving him to stand alone over her corpse. The last bright white beams of energy where still fading back into the ground, the energy of them too great to just fizzle into the atmosphere.

Hrajiel tipped the front portion of his body forward. His forelimbs crashed against the earth and crushed the blades of grass beneath the course calluses of his paws. Small rivers of steaming blood coursed through the maze of small green leaves. The liquid appeared black in the ghastly light of the moon. It scorched and burned every blade it touched, its heat like liquid dragon’s fire. Even the dirt beneath it began to blacken then glow.

The male’s visage was hardened; cruelness ruled his gaze while looking over the corpse of his creator. To anyone that knew him well, the expression might be surprising. Even the lines of his face seemed to strain under it. It was a foreign mask for him to wear and all his facial muscles cried out as they contorted to the uncomfortable fitting. And the woes of his face only made the look appear all the more frightening; furthering the tense and ready air it already held.

His wide, forked tongue ran over the side of his maw, committing one last image of the ripped and tattered corpse to memory before beating his wings once, twice, thrice, then jumping into the air, leaving the body to its fate under the moon.

[Hraefn]

Part VI

Hrajiel woke to the dim light of his essence chamber. Groggy and sore, he thought the suffocating smell and taste of blood was just a figment of his throbbing mind; a mere remnant of those consistent nightmares. He bent his neck and reached up with a paw, sliding its rough pads down from his cheek to end of his muzzle. He felt comparable to how an arbutus looked: disgusting. The black drake forced himself to his feet and took what some might call a bow. With his rump in the air and his forelegs stretched in front of him far enough to bring his elbows to the ground, he looked very much like an odd cat. He watched his claws grip at the stone of the chamber floor and noticed something flaking off the ebony colored daggers.

He reclined to his haunches and lifted a claw for inspection. It was blood and some of it was still faintly wet. Apparently the kill had been somewhat recent. It smelled familiar. Like spices and cinnamon. Like Hraefn.

Panic poured into the drake’s chest. It left him gasping as he hurried to his feet. What had happened to her? Was she alright? Why the blood? Worry festered within him as his brain concocted horrible scenarios for his mind’s eye to gaze upon. Setting his paw firmly back onto the ground, Hrajiel made haste to exit his makeshift sleeping chamber.

He made his way up the incline of the craft chamber, ramming through purplish wisps of magic and wasting no time to turn toward the door. But, when he reached the corridor’s frame, his head struck the upper portion of the arch. The sudden stop sent him straight to his haunches and his eyelids squeezed tightly together as the startling pain flowed from his brow into his neck.

Since when was he tall enough to strike the top of the passageway? He was on the tall side, but even a large adult had trouble unintentionally hitting his head on ceilings of lair ways. Confused and irritated, Hrajiel scanned his body quickly, noticing only now the changes in size and shape of his figure. His neck was longer, as were his legs. The bright, black scales of his tail were now more closely interlocked with themselves over an extensive tail; which had become thinner and more whip-like. His wings...they were vast and strong with sturdy muscles now.

Just what happened while he slept? Had he triggered his rune of ascension by allowing it to tumble freely in his scale pack? It seemed ridiculously unlikely and the mere presence of the thought in his mind gave him a subtle feeling of embarrassment, but what else could have happened?

There were too many questions with no answers in sight. Perhaps he could learn something from his maker. He sighed as he got to his feet again and lowered his head to clear the corridor arch. Clawed feet carried him swiftly through the caverns of his home and propelled him easily into the air whence his wings took on the burden of his weight and carried him forward.

His senses told him that Hraefn was not far from their home land; only a short distance to the east of Selen. His new wings made short work of the flight; he used the thermals for the majority of his travel and simply glided effortlessly through the skies. In the bright noon sun, his scales absorbed every joule of heat that touched his large figure. He had to part his jaws to exhale the excess warmth that was building up within him.

The blue water lapping Selen’s eastern shore was inviting, and Hrajiel did not delay to descend into its embrace. For a short while, he skimmed the surface, entertaining himself with the that were left behind until finally, he allowed himself to splash against the glassy surface, like a mallard into a pond. Shark-like scales bristled and allowed the liquid to wash over his skin, hauling away the heat and cleansing scale and skin alike. The experience was relaxing to both the physical and mental aspects of the dragon. It eased the growing worries and dulled the incredible warmth that managed to build up. The sickening grip of questions unanswered was soothed some and even the way he held his body told of an easing mind.

That didn’t last long though. As he stepped onto the shore of the smallest island in the channel between Lerena and Selen, a ghastly seen unfolded before him.

The first thing he noticed was the twisted, broken body of a black and sea-blue dragon. Then he saw the dry and cracked pools of deep red surrounding it and unconsciously, his eyes back tracked the blood’s path to the gaping wounds in the dragon’s body. Most were so deep that the inner meat was still wet with the crimson juice. Then he saw the empty eye socket and all his growing suspicions were confirmed.

Hrajiel’s stomach convulsed and he felt its acid infiltrate his throat. Grimacing, he swallowed it back down and stepped forward.

The wounds on Hraefn’s body held the signature shape of dragon claws. There was no mistaking that. Puncture wounds were shaped and patterned perfectly to fit his teeth. Rends in the earth, they told the story of a thrashing; were talons scored its face and heavy bodies formed noticeable indents in the soft soil. He placed a forepaw in one of the larger prints and nearly wept when he saw how well the two fit together. All the evidence was there, yet he had no recollection of the event.

Suddenly weary and stricken with grief, he found a place near his maker’s body. The end of his maw touched her shoulder and to coolness of her figure sent a chill along his spine. He couldn’t risk turning to anyone, he could trust himself near nothing. What would he do if he turned his claws on a hatchling, for Drulkar’s sake, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he ever scratched Vhazshyn’s scales with a fang.

A memory from his childhood surfaced in his mind and with it came the image of Croue standing over him, his lips pulled back in an awful snarl, his eyes piercing and disgusted.

“Abomination,� Croue whispered. “Creature of the lich king himself: that is what you are.�

[Litarath]

(O_o that's an unexpected twist! *blinks* now you got me wondering just how that happened... post more soon!

[Silithus Zerr]

Interesting story, Hraefn and all included.

[Hraefn]

Part VII


She could already smell the stench of decay in Selen. With her feline nose tilted upwards, Synth was able to pick out the faint smell of rotting meat betwixt salt water, sand, and wood. Hrajiel wasn’t lieing. Not that she expected him to lie, but he was prone to being impatient and Synth assumed this was just a nice way of being hurried along. She gave an irritated snort as she stepped off the portal pad and resettled her backpack with a quick tug.

She was on her way to the island where Hraefn’s corpse lay. As she began the trek, the saris remembered how she got herself wound up in this mess. Hrajiel had come to her first with his plight and somehow convinced her to solve the problem. It took a great many explanations from him before she finally agreed and she was curious now why she never asked for payment. She should have. At least all this trouble would have been worth something.

The sound of beating wings high above made her head turn skyward. It was Hrajiel. In the setting sun, he looked reddish and the sight reminded her of another dragon who’d asked for assistance. Of course, it wasn’t really a dragon, it was a demon in dragon’s scales, but it seemed there was hardly any difference anymore between demons and drakes. Malestryx was his name. He hid his true identity with talent, but Synth managed to piece together the clues and figure out who and what he really was.

Demon or not, she liked Malestryx as an individual. It seemed that his time in the Prime had turned him to the side of the living. He wasn’t massacring at least, and maybe he would aid the Empire; a turn-coat agent of the blight would be a wonderful asset in the war against the Aegis. However... he was responsible for Siivyra’s ‘death’. But who wasn’t a murderer these days?

It was amazing how similar Malestryx and Hrajiel’s problems were. Each had trapped the soul of a loved one within a vessel and sought to place the soul back into its proper body.

With the stench of rot growing more obvious with each pawstep, Synth decided that she was becoming too soft. Her rough skinned, black nose twitched its discomfort and her dark furred ears pressed to her skull as that ever familiar, yet subtle hate surfaced in her mind. Dragons were the bane of her existence.

In the distance, the black saris could make out three silhouettes. Two were of ancient dragons sitting on their haunches and the other was a shapeless, twisted mound. It could only be assumed that the third figure was Hraefn’s decaying corpse. Vhazshyn had to be the second dragon. She played a vital role in this ceremony. For as much as Synth held a sharp edge toward Vhazshyn, she respected the female beast. Her loyalty to her mate was astounding and inspiring, despite being questionable at times. Synth wondered when that loyalty would get the silver draka hurt.

Once she reached the island, the desire to vomit was strong. She resisted it with some hefty willpower, but nothing beat back the disgust that writhed in her gut. Hraefn’s mangled body would have put the vilest of aegrors to shame. The dead ancient’s innards were falling from their cavity through three large gashes in her gut and a long stretch of her exposed throat was dry and cracking from days of solar abuse. The body was surrounded by a puddle of red-tinted, slimy gelatin that steamed even in the coolness of evening. Her eye had been pecked out by birds and there was no telling how many different types of larvae were dwelling within the corpse.

Synth’s body convulsed and it took a worthy amount of self-control to retain a respectful posture. She was all too willing to turn her gaze from Hraefn to the Hrajiel and Vhazshyn. Even though her stomach churned, her lips formed a smirk as she laid teal eyes on Hrajiel’s visage. He was calm and distant, but in his pretty amber eyes, she could see the nervousness that chewed at his mind.

And, ooh, he had every right to be...

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There! D8 Update! You can sop hounding me now-- for a little while. xD So incredibly behind on this...

Cliffhanger. I know.

[Litarath]

*jaw-drops* THAT'S something good to read!!! Very well done and quite descriptive! The amount of detail is astounding and it gives me a very vivid and clear image of what there is... *gives a chocolate mouse to Synth and also pulls out a cattle-prod to zap Hraefn if she decides to take another long vacation*

[Vaz]

*update celebration dance!*

[Zexoin]

MOAR. NOAW. xD

[Galdethriel]

It's awesomeness has made my head pop off.

I hope my head is insured. :P

~Galde

[A'Sasha]

It's awesomeness has made my head pop off.

I hope my head is insured. :P

~Galde

Well that pretty much summed up everything I was going to say!

[pajlizard]

It's awesomeness has made my head pop off.

I hope my head is insured. :P

~Galde

Me too!

UPDATE. YAY 8'D

Hehe. Synth is awesome. XD