Theo stood with his arms folded, looking with a frown down at Fenian. He hadn’t wanted to admit it when he had seen Elrin struggle with the same technique, but now it was more clear than ever. The group, calling themselves the Warriors of the Shard, had taken their form of the cultivation technique from an Earth woman named Meya. Although they couldn’t fully adapt it, they had done well to use their time hiding in the void, popping out only every so often to gather more energy. But they didn’t have thousands of years to increase Fenian’s potential.
Standing in the paper dimension, Theo looked up to spot Tresk flying on Alex. She had been overjoyed seeing her bestie assume a form closer to an impressive true dragon. They hadn’t stopped flying since the group had arrived. “I hate to admit it, but I think Tresk might be an idiot savant.”
“How long did you say this took her?” Fenian asked, gasping as he came out from another month-long meditative session.
“She mastered it in a few years,” Theo said. “That’s not even the impressive part. Not only did the little pink psychopath figure out how to shut off her system, but she went further after achieving that. She then siphoned the energy, even if she had never done anything like that before.”
“Truly, she is a terror.” Fenian’s breaths came in shallow gasps. He rose to his feet, stretching out his back and rolling his shoulders to produce an audible pop. “I hate to see both of you ascending beyond my power. You know, my original mission was to kill you.”
“That’s not even remotely surprising.” Theo shrugged. It truly was the least shocking thing he had heard from the elf. “What’s the story on that?”
“Bit of a mix-up is all. Khahar had been sowing the concept of the Tara’hek for ages, but he never thought it’d work. He had only one success in all his time in Iaredin, so we didn’t have faith you could be turned.” Fenian sighed dramatically. “How unfortunate. I was looking forward to our final battle.”
“Turned?” Theo asked.
“Your arrival was foretold a long time ago. You were supposed to destroy the world.”
Theo shrugged. “I am destroying the world. Not me personally, but you get my meaning.”
Fenian tilted his head to the side. “I suppose you’re right. Well, you’re remaking it afterward so it doesn’t count.”
Sometimes it was hard to tell if Fenian was a genius or an idiot. Theo decided to land on ‘genius acting like an idiot’ and move on with his life. He had heard whispers about what the Ascendants were doing before his arrival, and he knew he had some skin in that game. The more he thought about it, the more it bothered him. For once, he decided not to drop the subject.
“What are the specifics?” Theo asked. “The souls in the void are typically in a queue, so if you could reverse engineer that math, you could figure out when and where they arrive. You knew I was coming, and someone gave a prophecy? What was it exactly?”
Fenian offered a blank stare for a few moments, eventually shaking his head. “Sorry, this realm must be messing with my mind. Does Theo Spencer want to drill further than the surface?”
“This one time.”
“I see. It isn’t much of a story. I came here with instructions from Elrin to destabilize whatever threats were here when I arrived. When I was reincarnated, I found the biggest threat imaginable: fake gods. That’s when I linked up with Khahar, who was happy to help in my quest. The Burning Eye took special interest in you. His realm was unassailable for such a long time, we never thought we could get his hooks out of you.” Fenian gestured skyward, to the shrieking form of Tresk riding atop Alex. “But the Tara’hek took, blocking the influence of all pretenders. You would’ve served the old Prime Pantheon if not for that connection, meaning the world would be destroyed. Not by fire, but by the same cycle that had prevented us from moving on.”
“That would’ve ruined Elrin’s plan, too,” Theo said. “Maybe.”
“You would’ve at least delayed his plans. But look at us now!” Fenian shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Everything went perfectly, and we couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome.”
“I don’t think you guys estimated the danger of the Tara’hek correctly,” Theo said. “It isn’t just one thing that makes it absolutely powerful. If it was just the two of us, maybe that would’ve been kinda scary. But with Alex, that changes things.”
The alchemist held his hand out, drawing on his connection with the Tara’hek. Scales spread over his body, the thrumming energy present in Alex’s body soaking down into his bones. A ball of purple-green fire appeared in his hand.
“Turns out, draconic magic is powerful,” Theo said. “And we can infuse it into ourselves, just like she did.”
“Oh, are you going to become a dragon?” Fenian asked.
Theo drew more deeply on the connection, pushing past the limits of what it wanted to give him access to. A pair of wings burst through his coat, the leathery things unfurling behind him. “If we wanted to, I guess. But it just seems like a way to ruin some good shirts.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on NovelBin. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“By the light of… Can you fly!?” Fenian shouted, rushing over and wrapping his arms around the alchemist. “Please accept me into your Tara’hek. We’ll be the most powerful thruple around.”
“Wouldn’t that be a quaduple?” Theo asked, releasing Alex’s power. His wings vanished and his skin went back to normal. The dancing ball of fire in his hands dissipated with a hiss.
“Details hardly matter. I am yours~”
“No offense, but ew.”
Fenian cast his eyes back to the sky. “A man can dream.”
The idea of steering his own evolution had been on his mind since he watched Alex change herself. Theo looked down at his own hands, making note of the various shades of purple that made up his skin. It would be easy enough to change the way he looked permanently, but he wasn’t sure it was the right move. On the one hand, he had grown attached to Belgar’s old body. But on the other, it was never truly his body to begin with. It was something borrowed; something that would never truly be his.
Tresk was a different story. That had been her body since birth, meaning that she had a lot more of an attachment to it. Theo knew she wouldn’t hesitate at the chance to turn herself into a dragon-person, but he had to consider the point of all this. Why change at all, when things were going just fine the way they were. The answer was simple: because things weren’t going to stay the same. It was going to get harder, and they would have to face enemies they couldn’t even hope to be prepared for.
Taking on the power of a true dragon might also give them different paths to power. And in the coming world, one could never have too much power.
“Get back to it,” Theo said, shooting Fenian a sharp look. “A month isn’t enough time for you to understand Tresk’s technique. No, don’t whine. Stop being such a baby about it.”
“Yes, master,” Fenian grumbled, falling back into a seated position with a dramatic sigh. “The things I do for power…”
***
Pogo enjoyed her new name. She hated the rock-people she had been charged with watching, abandoning them as soon as she could, but at least she had a new name. Floating in the clouds above the continent the locals called Slagrot, she felt content. Her people had never called it that. They had the same name since the world was young, when the elves barely poked their heads out of the forests, and the humans mingled with vulbet in the great southern deserts. Now there were two deserts, and both were unpleasant to fly anywhere near.
During her many years watching the world, she had seen the birth of a few true dragons. The last she had seen had taken mortal form, assuming a post in Vesta as Archduke Ta’nak’at. Or whatever the mortal peoples ended up calling him, she couldn’t remember. When the telltale energy of three more true dragons entered the world, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Banking hard to the left, she dove to scare the ogres below. They fled, screaming like they always did while hurling magic at her.
It tickled against her scales.
“Why did I agree to help that stupid cat?” Pogo asked herself, releasing another dramatic sigh.
The dragon tracked a path along the coast for a while, following a lazy trail toward the new world. She had to shake that thought loose. No one had called it that since the old times. And most of that place had been completely destroyed by some damned elf. Why was it always the elves?
Pogo was too high for anyone to see her. She was shrouded in enough magic to turn the eyes of the system. Not even her kin, who were currently waiting for their time in secret places, could find her. That was the point. When the continent came into view, she narrowed her gaze through the clouds below and locked onto the energy signatures. Of course, it was the demon and his companions. The goose he had back when she knew him was gone, replaced by a dragon.
Tutting to herself, Pogo absorbed as much information as she could. The creature had a knack for accepting foreign energies into herself, and has assimilated a large amount from a dead ascendant dragon. Her scaly face contorted in a series of emotions she couldn’t quite place. This should’ve been a one-off situation, but the others connected to the goose had unintentionally absorbed some draconic energy.
Was this worth calling a council over? Would she stir the sleeping giants to object to this? A new dragon wasn’t a bad thing, especially if it had the exact energy of a true dragon. Three of them were even better, so long as they could be brought into the fold. Pogo made up her mind then, diving down toward the town she had lived under for a few thousand years, assuming her mortal form somewhere in a bank of clouds, and landing with grace by a rushing river.
Broken Tusk was bustling, especially compared to when she had been living under it. People were streaming along the river, walking over the bridge, and otherwise just milling around the way mortals did. It didn’t take her long to figure out there was something more going on here than just daily life. Through conversation, eavesdropping, and some investigatory magic, she learned there was a tournament going on.
“Although I’m sure most men in town won’t complain…” A voice came from Pogo’s left, sending a chill up her spine. Had she already been discovered. “But you’ll want to wear a little more if you want to avoid unwanted attention.”
Pogo turned, spotting a well-built man wearing a white and silver robe. He had square features and a discerning eye. She looked down at herself, realizing that the sheer fabric she wore stood out among the simple tunics and dresses of the locals. “Where might one acquire clothes?”
“The market,” the man said, jerking his head to one side. He came alongside her, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her that way. “I may not be as strong as I once was. But once you taste ascendancy, you have an eye for glamors. And this is one of the best I’ve seen in my many years.”
“Oh! So, you did find me out,” Pogo said, shaking her head. “Was it the hair?”
“Red hair is rare,” the man confirmed. “But the clawed feet are what give you away as a dragon.”
“Drat. Another town to burn, I suppose.”
The man held his hands up defensively. “Let’s not. I’m sure Theo will be thrilled to see you, Pogo. But first, we’ll grab some clothes. I’m guessing this has something to do with Alex becoming a dragon.”
“My goodness,” Pogo said, looking the man up and down. She didn’t recognize him. Not even a little. “You do have a good eye. What did you say your name was?”
“Sulvan Flametouched… Although I’m thinking of taking a new surname.”
Pogo squeezed his bicep. “Silvain Buffman. Strongboy?
The servant of Hallow sighed, leading the half-naked dragon along through the streets of Broken Tusk.