The Dragon Queen of Thelvadore

A sigh escaped me as I left the lands of dreams behind, my mind entering its post-sleep boot-up sequence, slowly but surely going over everything as I entered full wakefulness. The world came into focus, my eyes opening and blinking a few times, uncovering the ceiling of the room I lay in. None of that seemed to matter, though, as the memories of that last dream were still fresh in my mind.

I couldn’t help but frown as I went over them. My dreams tended to be chaotic and utterly senseless. More often than not it was hard for me to discern dream from nightmare, because basically all of my dreams could be considered both, and all of them made very little sense. On some rare occasions, when I had enough frame of mind to note them down, they became the basis of whatever story I worked on for a little while, simply due to how utterly whack they were most of the time.

A trip amongst the stars with a crew of three, with our highest commodity being alcohol and cookies, having to fend off waves of aliens trying to get to our stashes. A tournament for the right to go to the toilet, with nerf guns as the main weaponry but also anime style moves and high mobility environments–despite me being a lazy bum–and those who can’t hold it in getting disqualified. An almost psychedelic episode where I died and had my consciousness melded with another being, sharing one body and having to navigate a realm of magic made mostly up of quasi-real space.

I heard that dreams always held meanings, but in my experience, that was entirely bogus. Some might, sure, and I was pretty sure the tournament dream came to be because I had to take a piss while asleep, but for most? Unless I somehow had some weird metaphysical connection to some other dimension or parallel me, I was pretty sure they were just my brain going through whatever my imagination could dream up at random.

Then there were the non-lucid lucid dreams. So many times did I hear that you could affect your dream if you notice that you are dreaming. That at that point you became the boss of your own dream. But that, again, did not conform with my own experiences. In many cases, the moment I realise I’m dreaming, and it happens quite frequently, I become a passenger entirely. Everything else is already pre-determined and I can only watch as whatever world I am part of slowly drifts to the inevitable apocalypse awaiting it.

Granted, most of the time I could, at best, remember a few snippets after more than ten minutes had passed since waking up. So perhaps my view on things was slightly skewed by my own biases and prejudice.

This one, though… This one was different. As evidenced by the fact that I could still clearly and perfectly recall every little detail. It felt real, far too real, in fact, and it left me… hopeless.

The closer I had come to the end, the more I felt myself… losing myself. It was clear that this was a recollection of Vuthe’s, of the last day of her life. I somehow just… knew that she was gone. Maybe not exactly dead, but certainly no longer alive either. Irretrievably beyond anyone’s reach.

Vuthe was duty bound. She took her responsibilities seriously to the point of defiance of the world at large and the laws that ruled them. Twice before had she looked Death in the eye and told Altis to fuck off, simply because her time was not yet and she had a duty to uphold.

And even there, at the end, when she knew that she could prolong her life no longer, she had put everything on the line to keep her word. The promise she had made to her friends and her people. She had sacrificed all that she was, all that she stood for, to fulfil her duty. Even in the face of unwinnable odds, she had refused to give in and take matters into her own claws.

I shuddered at the memory, one so personal yet also one so distant.

Even now, with my mind clear, I could not discern what the strange spell that Apocalyptica had cast towards the end was. What it was intended to do. But I knew that it spelled certain doom. And I had at least an inkling of what it might’ve been.

More importantly, however, was the gate. As I lay there, staring at the ceiling of my room, my breathing coming low and soft, I went through everything I knew about that particular piece of her divine authority.

Vuthe de Thal was, on paper, a Goddess of War. Her divine authority, that of Shiarex of the Shadow Armory, was earned during her war against the slavers. Her power came from her armory, from all the tools and equipment she had formed from her own mana and body to equip and protect her people. Having been trained in one of the best assassin guilds of their time, she knew weapons best, already having mastered most–if not all–she had been introduced to. She was a force of nature on the battlefield, a warrior and fighter without equal. And so that was what she used to ensure that her people had a fighting chance.

Over the years, however, she grew to be more than just that. She might have begun as a Goddess of War, but Vuthe had never bothered to limit herself to acts of war. Many deities only accepted petitions that had a direct connection to their domain, as it was the easiest way to retain their divinity by pleasing their worshippers while also not spending more of their divine power than absolutely necessary.

Vuthe was different. She had never turned down any petition that was reasonable, and even the costs she had asked from the petitioners had more often than not been another blessing in disguise. She helped anyone who required her aid, no matter what they asked for. And while, on paper, she still remained a Goddess of War, thanks to how her power came to be, that meant that over time she became more than that.

All that said, her armory was the core of her divine authority. It was the foundation for it all, and no matter what gets built atop, it is very hard–borderline impossible even–to change the foundation without tearing everything down. As such, her armory didn’t change all too much.

I had no idea how exactly things were translated into this new world of mine, but I was almost certain nobody besides herself could ever actually enter her armory. It was not a place meant for the living. It was a place meant for an assassin at the top of her game to store and maintain her equipment, a place so deeply connected with death on such a fundamental level, that even Talis–Altis opposite, or in other words, life itself–would have trouble reaching it.

Apart from that, though, I had never much thought about what it was actually capable of. Rarely did I have the opportunity to write Vuthe at her strongest, necessitating that kind of power, and I was pretty sure that dream was the first time I ever saw the gate open. It was certainly not a direct translation of any of the scenes I had never written.

That left me with the question, though: What exactly had happened afterwards? Where were her people? The city was obviously destroyed, yet there were no signs of bodies anywhere. Of course, over six hundred years had passed since then, but I somehow knew that it wasn’t just the flow of time that claimed the remains.

That left me with a dilemma. A dilemma I had no way to properly interrogate unless I drew upon the very same divine authority and checked for myself. Something was nagging at the back of my mind, a certain, almost muted unease, but one that was there, and one that–despite my best efforts–didn’t seem to vanish no matter what I tried.

I still retained my own reluctance to draw upon the divine authority that was granted to Vuthe. Even now that I knew that I retained her soul, there were too many reasons to be wary. About potential worshippers noticing my resurgence, about my own inability to properly control the power, about the impact the simple fact of Shiarex’ reappearance would have.

Strangely of all, though, it was that new fear that made me the most reluctant. And that would be the fear of what I would find behind that gate.

I sighed, and finally sat up. Still feeling quite overwhelmed by the entire thing, I watched my hands, clenching and unclenching them, lost in thought. Such dainty extremities, almost fragile in their own right. Really, to anyone who was unfamiliar with my very being my entire body would look as such. Vuthe had never been especially tall, and her frame had always been more on the lithe and petite side, with powerful muscles hidden beneath, as stealthy as the rest of her being.

Yet, despite this small package, she was most likely the single most powerful entity I had ever devised. A being with such an immense strength that she could force fate itself to its knees with willpower alone.

Finally, I shook myself. Taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, I tried to calm myself down. This morning turned out to be far more emotionally charged than I expected, and I had better calm myself. What was past was past, there was no way for me to change it. For all the magick and wonder and feats of the supernatural, time was beyond even Vuthe’s insane capabilities. As it was beyond most beings period.

Even the three Draconic Lords of Origin, some of the most powerful entities across the multiverse, and the Celestials, beings designed as the immortal overseers of the multiverse at large, were slaves to the endless march of time.

Hells, even Abyss didn’t dare meddle with time. And that was saying something.

I would simply have to uncover the truth and act accordingly. For the moment, however, I had other concerns.

Just sitting here and contemplating everything I’ve learned so far wouldn’t help me. I knew too little. Yet, at the same time, I was also reluctant to act upon that which I could to learn more.

At least I wasn’t left entirely lost. With another sigh, I made my way over to the edge of the bed and got up. After experiencing that dream, I had a few thoughts about what could have happened to cause the perpetual twilight and the strange spellcircle around the city's borders. Nothing I could confirm yet, but I hoped that I could shed some light on those things after a talk with Lucy.

Checking the time piece, I found it to be late morning. I had gone to bed relatively early the day prior, so it was kind of to be expected. Still, it was only my second night spent actually sleeping since I first woke up in the throne room, with the first one spent in almost complete drunkenness, so it wasn’t like I had much in the way of reliable data points.

Leaving my room, I slowly walked along the hallways of the palace, letting my aura sweep over the city on the lookout for my guests. I found them in a building not far from the palace exit, at the edge of the open plaza on which the palace was located. Both seemed awake already, although I tried my best to not invade their privacy. Given how lackluster their aura control was compared to my own, I could’ve easily listened in on their conversation, but that would’ve been rude.

And in any case, from their reaction they noticed my presence. I grimaced at that, since I had tried to remain relatively inconspicuous. I was getting better at aura manipulation, but it seemed that I was still a far ways off from where Vuthe had been before. Not that that surprised me too much, her aura was insane and required a lot of fine control. It was, in part, the reason why she had focused so much on control over power in the first place.

I still had a long way to go.

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