Melia the Magnificent

After several hours of uninterrupted sleep, Melia felt refreshed. She no longer felt the crushing weight of guilt, but she could see her past actions clearly and knew, maybe not exactly what she needed to do, but a good place to start. She spared a final glance for the memorial perpetually glinting in the sunrise and nodded solemnly. Melia didn’t have the capacity to fully understand what the memorial meant to her and she likely never would. It was hard enough to process the fact that people had thought highly of her enough to honor her with a statue in her favorite game. She wondered what the statue might mean to them, but she knew she’d never find out.

“Brandy, wake up,” Melia gently nudged the sleeping elf sprawled across the grass.

“Mmm, is it morning? Still?” Brandy sleepily replied. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, which still had heavy bags beneath them. Unlike Melia, it didn’t seem like Brandy had the knack for falling asleep anywhere. Not only was the ground fairly hard (only cushioned by a thin layer of grass), but the state of this incredible clearing made it hard to track the passage of time. Somebody who needed absolute darkness in order to finally shut their eyes wouldn’t be able to get much rest.

“I’m not sure,” Melia answered honestly. She took an experimental step outside the hallowed ring, right on the edge of the mound rising out of the water, and watched as the world transitioned into early afternoon. With the sun high in the sky, it was probably close to lunchtime.

Though, Melia thought as her stomach growled, any time was lunchtime.

She stepped back into the memorial space and the sun reverted to cresting over the distant mountains. What was vastly interesting to Melia was how un-magical it was.

One of the first descriptors that popped into her head when she witnessed the statue, the engraved plate and the amazing rock it sat on…was magical.

This is a magical place was a phrase that perfectly fit the aura of somber wonder and mystique. But, if Melia was being pedantic, there wasn’t any magic actually happening. Whatever gods built or translated this tiny island into the world fixed this particular time and weather as its permanent setting.

A cool, crisp 70 degrees at 6:45 in the morning was simply how it was. As if it obeyed its own laws of physics and nature.

At this point, Brandy was standing up and stretching, so it was time to go. Melia wasn’t sure how often she would ever visit this place, because it left her feeling overwhelmed, but she knew she would always treasure it. She reached into her inventory and pulled out one of her favorite flowers, a tulip, and placed it on the statue’s base.

“I’m heading back to Horizon,” Melia said, turning to address her friend. “I have some business I need to attend to. Do you want me to drop you off anywhere in particular?”

“Are we flying?” Brandy asked, tilting her neck and letting it pop. She shuddered as several sharp-sounding cracks resounded, but quickly smiled and started bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I don’t know if I’m up for flying right now.”

“I was thinking of taking a portal,” Melia shook her head. “I don’t think Horizon would appreciate a repeat appearance of my dragon form so soon, even if I’m not rampaging.”

“Let’s do that, then,” Brandy agreed. “Can you take us to the rest of the team? Or at least someplace I might be able to nap for another hour in darkness?”

“Yes, I can manage that,” Melia chuckled. She pointed at the air in front of her and summoned forth the same circle she used last night to send [Sunrise] to Moeldywn’s palace. Melia hoped the princess wouldn’t scold her friends too much for intruding, or hold them too responsible for Melia’s actions. That was the first item on today's agenda: finding Melody and determining how to make things right. Melia couldn’t heal people and she couldn’t bring back the dead, but she had a lot of money and she could pay for healing. And repairs. Actually, she could do the repairs herself…though depending on how mad Melody was, she might not want to even look at Melia right now, let alone allow her in the city. Melia would apologize, offer her assistance, and, if it was rejected, leave.

Melia followed Brandy through the portal, only to find several maids and butlers waiting on the other side. Her retainers were nowhere to be seen, so these had to be Moeldywn’s staff. Melia smiled meekly; this was a good sign.

Brandy hardly had a chance to take a step into the lavish parlor when two of the maids swept up to her and escorted her to a nearby chair, rapidly shifting gears into pamper mode. A stately butler, likely some [Head of the Estate] or an equally prestigious position, stood before Melia. She felt her smile slowly slip as her position as a guest weirded in her mind.

“We have been expecting you,” he said with a deep bow.

“Oh,” Melia fidgeted. “Is Melody mad?”

“Her Majesty has been in better moods,” the man chuckled. “But I shall allow her to express her feelings herself. If you will follow me.”

Melia felt like she didn’t really have a choice. She glanced back and saw that Brandy was being taken care of and quickly trotted after the butler. Something he’d said stuck with her. He’d called Moeldywn “Her Majesty,” which was odd because every time Melia heard the term used around the princess, she’d usually correct whoever said it. So either this guy didn’t have much respect for the current king and the hierarchy…or something happened to him. Melia recalled the zone-wide [Yell] she had heard. It did sound like he’d been cut off mid-tirade, and she could only hope she hadn’t done something irreversible.

​

Melia followed the servant as he led her through many halls and corridors, entering and leaving buildings so frequently that Melia gave up trying to map where she actually was. If this had been on the main streets, it was possible she could have used her memory of the game’s map to try and chart their path, but as it stood, she was lost. She let herself grow absorbed with the scenery and surroundings, relieved that the air wasn’t filled with choking smoke and the castle district seemed relatively intact. Her rampage hadn’t really carried her this far, but when Melia first fled the city after coming to her senses, the world seemed very bleak and dire.

“We have arrived,” the man stated coolly, stepping up to a set of plain doors. Melia shook her head, trying to wrangle her attention, and quickly thanked the man. A pair of guards stood before the doors and held them open, but Melia could hear the commotion raging inside of the room even before she set foot inside. Melia gulped, wondering what sort of punishment was in store for her.

To her surprise, she found that the doors led to a secluded nook in a greater audience chamber. Directly in front of her, about 20 to 30 feet away, a set of steps led to a throne sitting on a raised platform. A pillar and some cleverly placed statues and potted bushes blocked sight of the door from the main room, making this a useful entrance for servants or messengers who needed to garner the attention of the person on the throne without alerting the audience. Moeldywn sat on the throne, and even from this disadvantaged position to the side, Melia could see the vein in the princess’ temple throbbing.

The door shut behind Melia, and even though she hardly made a sound, Moeldywn took notice. Without turning her head, the princess spotted Melia and she let out an explosive sigh.

“Enough,” she said calmly but firmly over the tumultuous dialogue happening in the room. Several people quieted down, but the people still talking did not sound too pleased.

“Your Majesty-”

“Princess Moeldywn-”

“I hardly think you’ve given due consideration-”

“I said ENOUGH!” Moeldywn yelled. She stood up, stomping the butt of her staff on the ground as she did so, and a ring of ice crackled outward as the stones froze. “We will recess here for the day, and resume discussion tomorrow.”

The crowd instantly hushed, but Melia could hear dark mutterings as they quickly filed out of the room. Moeldywn sat back down and sighed as she rubbed her eyes tiredly. Melia stood rooted to the spot, unsure whether she should leave as well.

“Well?” Moeldywn asked impatiently. “Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to approach?”

Melia instinctively glanced behind her just to make sure Moeldywn wasn’t talking to anybody else, but she was alone next to the door. Melia rounded the pillar and the plants and found that the room was, indeed, a large audience chamber. In fact, it reminded her of pictures she’d seen of congress or the U.N., with many seats set in a semicircle all facing the central stage, or in this case, the throne. Above them, a second floor held a seating gallery, but as far as Melia could tell, it was empty too.

Melia made her way meekly to the stairs and quickly climbed them, presenting herself before the princess with a lowered head.

Perhaps sensing Moeldywn’s ire ignited some hidden gamer instinct deep within Melia to preserve her faction reputation, because she snapped her fingers as inspiration hit her. There was something she hadn’t done in a while and needed to rectify this very moment. Melia reached into her inventory, pulled out one of her giant bears, and held it forward with a hopeful smile.

Moeldywn’s eye twitched even as her lips reluctantly curved into a smile.

“Do you think I’m so easily bribed?” Moeldywn asked.

“No?” Melia replied nervously, slowly drawing the bear back.

“I’ll be taking that,” Moeldywn hastily said, snatching it away and quickly storing it out of sight. Once it was safely tucked into her inventory, she sighed, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared down at the small gnome.

“Meliastraza,” Moeldywn pronounced gravely. But she said nothing else, electing to hold her arms wide open. Melia, knowing when a hug was being offered, nearly jumped into them, but she hesitated.

“You aren’t…mad at me?”

“Oh, I’m mad alright,” Moeldywn stated flatly. Her exhaustion and exasperation were clear as day. “But not with you.”

“Oh,” Melia nearly melted with relief. She leaped into the girl’s arms, let her pat her on the back consolingly for several moments, before broaching the dragon in the room.

“Why not?”

“Are you expecting me to be?”

“Well, I did destroy parts of your city,” Melia said in a small voice. “I must have hurt a lot of people, too. And…wait. Where’s the king guy? What happened to him? Why wasn’t he here dealing with all those people? I didn’t hurt him, did I?”

“Philip is…unwell,” Moeldywn said after a long pause. “I’ve placed him under house arrest until he can recover. If he recovers. By the laws of man, he should be executed, and by the laws of nature, he has already produced an heir, so it is unnecessary that he returns. Peace was not kind to him, and he grew complacent, arrogant, and fat, drunk on his own power. He lacked the edge borne of dealing with Visitors, and he was ill prepared to handle whatever trial the gods have in store for us. He was a tumor on this kingdom that needed to be removed…as much as it breaks my heart to admit it. As I see it, his failings are my failings.”

“Melody,” Melia squirmed out of the princess’ arms so she could look her in the eye. She stood on the throne and motioned dramatically at herself. “How can you say you are at fault? You’ve shown me and my friends such kindness, and I repaid you by rampaging through Horizon!”

“Meliastraza, you are a dragon,” Moeldywn sighed. “If you are to be blamed, then so am I. I’ve dealt with enough of your kind to know how you operate, and even if nobody could ever predict you, specifically, your actions were not too far out of line. If anything, you were extremely reserved. The issue is the scale is far too big. This isn’t the case of some idiotic adventurer stumbling into a random cave and discovering a dragon’s shiny pile of gold. There, they would be justified in eating the offender, and usually it would end there. Sometimes it might spill down into the fool’s party or his family, though even the staunchest of dragons would release the grudge after a generation or two.”

Moeldywn sighed explosively and continued.

“Instead, my grandson provoked the ire of The Destroyer and we are fortunate you didn’t wipe us from the map.”

“Wait,” Melia frowned, “He did? How? I’m pretty sure the reason I got set off was because somebody stabbed Jessica.”

“And I’ve never been more grateful to a common street thug in my life,” Moeldywn shook her head. “Philip conspired to kidnap the [Saint].”

“Brandy?” Melia asked. Without thinking, her eyes dilated into draconic slits and her horns and tail came out.

“You see?” Moeldywn chuckled. “I warned him something like this would happen and he didn’t listen. And this is from the mere mention of harm coming to your friend.”

Moeldywn sat down on the throne and began explaining some of the recent happenings to Melia through a different lens.

Horizon, and the human kingdom as a whole, was at a boiling point. The streets were safe and the majority of the population was calm, but unrest was seeping into the nobility. Peace, as wonderful as it was, could only last so long, while certain factions believed it would remain forever. Though Moeldywn did not divulge every unnecessary detail, she explained how the world seemed to be building tension at every angle, and the resurgence of The Destroyer cemented the fact that the gods were moving in her mind. Moeldywn needed to take the steps necessary to keep the human race alive.

Understandably, the majority of Horizon’s nobles were in an uproar over Melia’s rampage. For the first time in likely any of their lives, they were threatened and they felt powerless. And yet, when they came to complain, they were more worried about their estates and their standings than they were about preparing for the upcoming storm. A few members of the older generation tried to recall what they had learned from their own parents about the Age of Upheaval and what it meant to live in constant fear, but the younger voice was loud and would not listen.

Many had seen The Destroyer descend on the city, and while they were afraid, they were also…confused. Or ignorant of the part their own hands had played in summoning it. Meliastraza’s appearance had drowned the city in chaos. She had reduced one of the grand walls that had stood like a bulwark for centuries to rubble. Entire districts were on fire where she breathed. Miraculously, there were many injuries but very few casualties, and the few that she was able to identify told Moeldywn that Meliastraza was not directly responsible. But frustratingly, the largest saving grace and biggest contributing factor to the little death wasn’t any outstanding quality the people of Horizon could claim.

It was because they simply didn’t know what to do. Many people cowered in their homes or ran to the nearest open door for shelter.

If the soldiers of the city had readily responded to Philip’s [Call to Arms] as they should have, they would have thrown themselves upon the wall of The Destroyer until they were no more. It was a blessing that Melia chose to roar at them menacingly instead of squashing them all like bugs.

“But,” Melia fidgeted awkwardly, “I should probably do something, shouldn’t I? I destroyed so much.”

“If you’re offering to repair…,” Moeldywn began before narrowing her eyes. “Wait. I’ve heard of what you’re doing over in Abbyton. What madness would you unleash upon my city under the guise of rebuilding my streets? I don’t know if I trust your help.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent craftsman!”

“Your skill was never in question,” Moeldywn ruthlessly shot her down, “It’s your decision-making capabilities. Really, Meliastraza, what were you thinking? You created a forest inside a building and demanded that the magic flowing through the world obey you so people could travel to the abbey more easily. It’s impossible to anticipate what you’ll come up with next,” Moeldywn sighed. “In fact, if it’s not too presumptuous of me, I have a more prudent suggestion: learn to control your urges regarding your hoard.”

“Yes, but, well…I agree, I really do, but how? Who would teach me?”

Moeldywn smirked.

“I’m sure the draconic ambassadors could be persuaded.”

​

So Melia found herself sitting in a carriage next to the princess, traveling through the nobles’ district. Everywhere she looked, she could see signs of devastation where she had simply walked through the city. Roads were closed at certain points where she put down a single foot and obliterated the solid stone. They took detour after detour, but all things considered, how radically invasive her appearance had been, the impact was less than Melia thought. Either many hands made light work and communities banded together to rebuild their neighborhoods…or else it was possible that the city held more skilled craftsmen than Melia first assumed.

The driver pulled up in front of a grand estate. Melia poked her head out of the window, eyes wide and smile growing, curiosity filling her to the brim. What were real dragons like? Did they have dens? This was a mansion, not a cave. Was she stereotyping an entire race? But it was also gaudy. The gates blocking common foot traffic were tipped in gold. Melia didn’t get a chance to gape in wonder for long, as Moeldywn quickly pulled her back inside.

“Now, Meliastraza,” the princess began, trying to keep a smile off her face. “You might not be aware, but dragons are prideful creatures.”

“Gee, I think I could have guessed,” Melia said flatly.

“Quite,” Moeldywn chuckled. “As such, I implore you to follow my lead. Do nothing, say nothing, unless I instruct you.”

“Oh,” Melia nodded. “I understand. I don’t know the culture, so I don’t want to accidentally offend someone or commit a major faux pas. Do you really think I can do this?” Melia asked nervously.

“Not at all!” Moeldywn laughed. “And I want the best seat in the house as you destroy their common sense.”

“Hey,” Melia pouted, but Moeldywn wasn’t listening.

“And for the love of the gods, make sure you put your dragony-bits away until the time is right. That’s your horns and tail…your eyes too. Good, good. Now you’re a nice, respectable gnome.”

Melia continued to pout the entire walk from the carriage up to the front doors of the multi-story mansion. Moeldywn schooled her face into something serious and dire. Bored, Melia would have said, if she didn’t know any better. Of course, she did not knock on the door herself; the footman did it for her, even further helping to sell the image of a young woman who not only had everything in the world handed to her, but was not allowed to integrate with lesser people.

“Welcome to the Ariad estate,” an elderly gentleman in a pristine suit said. “Your Majesty, your presence honors us.”

Melia could tell their sudden arrival threw a wrench into the household’s plans. Who expected the queen of the country to come knocking on their door? But Melia could also tell the man wasn’t exactly as innocent or harmless as his looks suggested. He was a level 800 [Manservant], which, good job system, you done good, but wasn’t the most helpful tip in the world.

“I’ve come to offer my well wishes to the [Ambassadors],” Moeldywn said in a way that was both offhand and yet didn’t offer a way to refuse. “I heard they were injured defending my city. Such outstanding loyalty to their allies goes beyond the scope of diplomacy, and I wished to see if there was anything I could do to hasten their recovery.”

“Ah, as you say, your Majesty,” the man bowed. “They are resting in the solar. I shall inquire if they are receiving visitors.”

“Please do,” Moeldywn nodded magnanimously, as if the man should be grateful she allowed him to do his own job. He led them into a parlor off the main foyer where several more servants quickly scrambled to make them comfortable. As soon as they were seated comfortably with a pitcher of water for their refreshment, the servants retreated to a discreet distance.

“Are you sure we can just crash their house like this?” Melia leaned forward and hissed under her breath. “Aren’t there rules about decorum and stuff?”

“When you use words like ‘stuff,’ you show how much you truly care about decorum,” Moeldywn whispered back. Melia stuck her tongue out and turned her attention to the room.

It was, if it could be believed, even more lavish than Moedlywn’s personal estate. The finery on display, from works of art to the quality of the rugs covering the floor, everything matched the standard set by the gilded gates outside.

Which is to say: wealth blown hugely out of proportion. Melia picked up the pitcher of water, not because she was thirsty, but to [Inspect] it. It was made of pure [Silver]. The embroidery on the drapes used real [Gold Thread]. Melia spied a very familiar-looking bundle of cloth, neatly folded on a nearby settee, amongst some [Sewing] supplies that were clearly set out to attract attention rather than to be used. She squinted.

“I need to check my auctions at Asdf’s,” she reminded herself. “I think the [Runecloth] sold.”

“Those bastards,” Moeldywn’s head shot up. “Did they outbid me?”

“Wait…,” Melia began, slowly turning toward the princess, but she fell silent as the [Manservant] returned. He bowed again and instructed them to follow. They made their way through the mansion, traveling up some stairs into the more personal wings of the manor. The old man knocked on the frame of an open door, into which Melia spied a brightly lit room, flooded with natural sunlight through floor-to-ceiling windows that took up an entire wall. In the middle of the room, a naked human woman was lounging on a chaise with a towel artfully draped over her while a very tall and well-built human man diligently [Painted] her.

“Announcing Her Royal Majesty Queen Moeldywn Eutevor,” the [Manservant] proclaimed, pausing awkwardly to glance down at Melia. “And…guest.”

Melia shrugged. She supposed that when one was the queen of a country, one could bring as many guests as one wished when one gate-crashed somebody’s home, and nobody was going to ask questions about who the rando was.

The man diligently made a few more brushtrokes before carefully setting aside his tools and wiping his hands clean on a pristine cloth. The woman made no effort to rise, but Melia was okay with that. She didn’t need to be subjected to a sudden bout of envy. As the man turned and offered Moeldywn a charming smile, Melia considered the two people.

If she was pressed to point at random strangers and identify dragons, this couple clearly fit the bill. On top of all the wealth she’d already seen, their bodies were perfect. Possibly quite literally. If dragons in this world behaved as they did in the game, the monster form came first and the Humanoid form came second. It was something they designed for themselves, something they curated as they grew, not something they were born into. The man was tall, his shoulders were broad, and his teeth sparkled in a way that reminded Melia of toothpaste commercials.

In other words, he was a hunk.

The lady was no slouch either, and even her ruby-red hair displayed a certain flair that would leave shampoo companies laughing all the way to the bank.

“Thank you, Miguel,” the man said, causing the butler to bow and quickly exit the room. The man turned to Moeldywn and held out a single hand. The princess rolled her eyes but placed her fingers daintily in his palm. He gently raised them to his lips and gave a very light kiss, his lips barely brushing her skin, all the while his eyes never wavered from Moeldywn’s.

“Your Majesty,” his voice was deep, smooth, and pleasing to the ears. “This is unexpected, but quite welcome. Please, have a seat.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t rise,” the woman called from her position on the chaise. She’d slipped a cushion under her side, allowing her to lean seductively and shoot teasing smirks at the man.

“Naturally,” Moeldywn said dryly. “After all, you were wounded while defending my city. Horizon honors you as a hero and you will be rewarded.”

“All in the line of duty,” the woman waved a hand airily. But Melia just put two and two together.

“Wait!” she cried, tugging on Moeldywn’s dress excitedly. “These are the two bats! I’m so glad they didn’t die!”

“Bats?!” The woman bolted upright with a speed unbelievable for somebody convalescing. The valiant cloth fluttered to the ground, her perfectly shaped body flushed with irritation. “What do you mean by bats?! Who do you think you are?”

Melia paled, but judging from Moeldywn’s Cheshire grin, this slipup was expected. She made a show of nodding grandly to both dragons.

“Raztara and Malorion Ariad, [Ambassadors] from World’s End…may I introduce you both to Lady Meliastraza Obsidianheart, Archdragon?”

¹

Thank you for reading! Have a great day :)

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