The world was on fire, the ground was covered in ash and blood for no life grew from the depth of the earth as it did past the far distant mountains. There were explosions all around the world around, men and women running for their lives as others brawled and battled on the ground, drawing blood into the air with a fresh smell of iron.
It could be seen as many armed men facing off against well armored soldiers, women running with their children in hands as bodies were torn apart with swords and spears and axes and daggers.
It was war.
"We have to evacuate the people."
A small group of three figures in the distance argued, standing amongst the flames that raked against their backs along the hills as more and more bodies fled the battle. Innocent people.
"We can't. More will come soon, and we must hold them off."
A dark-haired man shouted above the roaring of the flames as the woman he was arguing with complained and gestured to the many masses of innocent people running away.
"And what about them? What world do we have here if we can't save them?"
They both seemed to be arguing for the will of another man, who's large great axe hung loosely at his side, his hands slick with blood and dirt as his eyes looked over the battle and the dead that littered the ground.
"If they come over that hill and we're not here to stop them, then what?! What happens when they march on the next city, or the next?"
The black-haired man threw his hands up in the air as if he was preaching to go, watching as the sun rose in the distance painting a dim golden light though the clouds of bellowing ash that covered the sky and fell like snow on the ground.
"Will you just run then? Run with your people until they are right on top of us and we're slaughtered?"
The woman gestured again to the fleeing masses, her heart wavering as she saw screaming and crying children, many without their mothers and more so without their families that littered the ground in corpses.
"These are our people. We are not leaving them!"
They both looked to the man wielding the great axe as his eyes turned over the war behind them, the sun spilling over the hill tops to reveal many men in shimmering and slick steel armor, much better than the ones his people carried as they tore through man after man.
Finally, as the fire stoked down and the ashes fell from the clouds, he spoke.
"We leave. We take who we can with what we can, and we go along the river. We'll make for the Fortress of Kings and hold out there."
The woman smiled as she gave the black-haired man a dirty look, turning quickly to assist a mother and her child as they struggled in carrying a large wooden barrel filled with grain and food.
The Leader placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, like two souls in the flames of the sun, they stood watching the battle before them as one.
"I'm sorry. This probably isn't for the best but…"
He drifted off as the black hair man watched him, rolling his eyes as he sighed.
"But you listen too much to your wife."
The Leader nodded his head, his left shoulder bare of any cloth or armor as it showed his rune circle shining in the sun as the fires began dying down as the sound of many men as they rushed forward echoed in their ears.
They both watched the hill being covered in dozens of men wearing shiny silver armor, stained with their people's blood. It was a message of triumph.
"Go."
The black-haired man said as he left his friend, his leader's grasp as he walked forward, fire spouting from the tips of his hands as he walked slowly like a predator to prey.
"I'll hold them off long enough for you to get them out of here."
The leader nodded, he wasn't afraid of his friend, nor was he worried the man would die. He'd seen him survive worse. But inside he still felt his heart pain as he hesitated, then he turned his back to the man and ran after his wife.
The black-haired man smiled as he saw the silver faces of the soldiers rush him, his words like a whisper in the wind that echoed far past his kin.
"This will be fun."
And with his blood and his fire, the man held back the 200 hundred men that came over those hills, that held their blade against him as he burned them to bits and ashes, blood taking his face as his eyes shone past the ashes in the wind that blew like the dust from the bodies.
He waited. He knew he wouldn't rejoin his friend for a while. But still he waited for more to come, to keep them distracted while his friend ran to escape.
But after hours and hours, the day ending, nothing came over the hilltop. Nothing came over the mountains or past the sea of flames. There was no one there.
But still he waited until his eyes grew tired, and his heart began to slow down, and with a gut wrenching scream that filled the air, his ears turned to the distance. Where the river lay in hiding, carrying the many of his kin past the war that burned on those hills.
His heart dropped from its place in his chest and his eyes widened as the screams finally reached his dull ears that blurred with the sound of the steel and the screams of the soldiers.
He ran. He ran with the wind at his back and the world on his shoulders, he ran through the forest and through the brushes, though the waters and though the smoke filled the air.
Then he saw it as his feet came to a stop in the wet muddy ground soaked in blood. Men, women and children dotted the ground, the boats burned and destroyed, many sinking as he looked past the dead. As he looked past the ghost that now haunted his vision.
His feet came to a stop as he stumbled and fell to his knees before two figures. A woman whose pale bourbon hair blew like scattered leaves in the wind.
And a man who held his great axe in hand, stained with blood of his attackers.
They were holding hands.
"If I had been here…If I had just swallowed my pride and helped them…"
They could have been saved.
It was many years after that incident when the black-haired man could get his revenge as the armies of silver soldiers marched on his fortress, as they marched on his home. He soared above the clouds like a bird as he came crashing to the ground with fire spouting from his hands and mouth, burning them like a sea of screaming bodies that turned and melted like ash in the wind.
He remembered the faces of his friends; he remembered the looks they had on their wedding day cut short by the hammering of bells. He remembered their happy smiles and their proud looks as blood splashed over his face.
He was covered in it now, like another skin.
He remembered the look his friend had on their calling day, the day the both of them gained powers, the day the both of them gained rune circles. While he gained a beast of scales and sharp teeth, wings like bats that soared above the clouds, he gained a red eyed man whose face held a wicked smile.
He never saw those two again, but he knew that man was always scheming in the back. But his mind was elsewhere as he tore through the armies of these silvery men. Not noticing the red eyes demon that was watching him from atop the mountains.
Fire spouted from his mouth; flames raked across the ground. He would avenge his friends. He would kill them all if he had too. With tears in his eyes as the memories passed by, he flew into the sky with rage and malice in his chest, the blood molding him into a monster of fire and breath.
He would soar above the clouds and bring terror to all those silver soldiers across the ground like bugs under his feet.
And as he roared above the wind, his voice like a monster in the sky, he felt the world change around him swallowed by a sea of ashes and death.
Then he came from the darkness with fire in his breath. And the world would never forget him.
For he was Tyrannus, the King of Malice.
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A/N: For Context, Tyrannus in this became the Great Dragon of the East. Then, after Arnold slayed him, the golem master came across his soul sealed away in a stone, birthing the new Dragon of the East. Thus the battle with Lia came to be, and when he died, he was finally free.
______
***
The carts rolled on like lines of soldiers in the yard, walking past the ruined houses of the old, the small creeks and tall dead trees that littered the ground, paving way for new life to sprout from the earthen ground.
Lia watched it all as horse after horse, cart after cart carried the burned, the injured, the sacred and the sick villagers past the land they called home. Her Army was done with battle now, for they had long since breathed they're last of war. It was time for new beginnings and as she rode beside Rian and Lukali, their faces hidden behind the beautiful sun that shone above the trees, she was lost in ecstasy.
They came to pass a small mill, its stone rubble crumbling to bits in the creek that ran under foot, below the small walkway that carried their souls past the land of the dead, path the fortress that loomed behind them, and past the war that left with them.
As they moved with the wind at their backs and the sky above them, the road littered with the fallen leaves from the autumn trees that pathed their path in a world of ambience and glory. Many of the villagers cried, many of them hugged one another, but most remained silent as they passed by.
This would remain in their memories for a long time, the time when their Queen of Fire walked for the abyss of the dead, and how she told before a Dragon with fire at her back. She was their leader and they watched as she passed, but her eyes were on something different, something more mysterious.
The small figure that danced between the trees, as her attuned hearing heard his laughs from a distance as she hopped up and down, silently cheering her on in glory.
She smiled at the little Leprechaun, and while she couldn't see him, she knew he was smiling back, his wicked grin full of white teeth as he bowed slightly in the shadows before disappearing into the darkness of the woods.
He would live here for a long time, even after the world had past them by, and people began to settle in this land once again, he would remain always, watching over this road that her army passed through, remember the fondness and the glory of her victory as it was whisked into the wind and spread like wildfire.
It would be remembered as the fondest moment of his life.
Then a rider approached her as she watched the little man's shadow disappear into the woods, and she came to face Rian and Lukali beside her, silently riding along as they enjoyed the brisk and cool windy air.
"So…it's really over then?"
Rian asked suddenly, his head looking up past the trees and into the distant mountains as Lia nodded her head, watching the small animals return in the distant ferns.
"It is."
"It somehow doesn't feel real. Like the world is playing some trick on us."
"...I suppose so."
Lia remained silent as Rian stole a glance at her, his eyes passing over his new mechanical arm that glimmered in the sun, its black and red metals strong with his spirit and courage.
He took a deep breath, for what he knew had to be said was more difficult than the Dragon they left behind them.
"I've decided that I want a cabin. A small little cabin in the woods, where me and Becka can rest in peace."
Lia didn't blink as he said this, even as he watched her face for any change, she showed nothing as she watched the road before them, calmly guiding her horse along. He didn't know what to say to her silence, but he knew it spoke louder than words.
"This life for me has been the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. I don't want it to ever end…not like this."
Then he saw her smile as the sun shone across her face, and he felt his heart pain as she spoke, like a silent whisper in the wind.
"But like all good things, it has to."
"...Sadly."
Then Lukali spoke, his voice a meek sound against the clopping of hooves and the sound of the Caravan's wheels rolling along the rough and bouncing road.
"I…I want to take on my father's mantle. I want to continue being a Hunter where he left off."
Rian didn't say anything, nor did Lia, for they both saw the determination in his eyes and the lingering sadness within them. The loss of a father, and the loss of a mother was not something they both knew but could never understand.
It wasn't something that ever could.
"I'm proud of you. Both of you."
She said, her voice like a golden light in the sky, her smile reflecting off their memories as they passed through their minds. They're times in the mines, in the Outpost, in Kokono and nowhere. It had all come to an end down the road of friendship.
But family lasted longer than that.
"With the Dragon's treasure, your shares can be put to good use. You can buy that cabin, Rian and live happily till the end of your days."
She turned to Lukali as she said this last bit, her eyes leaving Rian as her horse trotted on.
"And you, Lukali, can live for the man you've become. You've both left something behind, something dark. Your scars, your troubles, your hatred and your anger. Now you trade them for happiness and fulfillment…"
She turned her head, her eyes on the road far off her past their sight, but they caught a glance of a small teardrop glimmering like a diamond in the sunlight.
"...I'm happy for the both of you. Live strong and die without regrets."
She came to a stop now, her horse bellowing in the air as the driver of the Caravan, Totalac, like all the others took notice of her sudden stop. The Caravan came rolling to a halt in front of a small burned and ruined farmhouse, its roof collapsed, and plants grew above its walls. The sun reflected like stars across its glass, and the yard was covered in a sea of shimmering grass.
Rian and Lukali, like the many eyes of her army watched as their Queen dismounted, her feet falling into the high grass and flowers that brushed against her pants. She whispered in the horse's ear before sending it along back to its master, her eyes glinting with tears.
"Thank you for carrying me this far along."
The horse trotted back to its master who took his head to his hands with a cautious and confused look as his eyes turned to Lia. The others followed his example, many of the old and many of the new, the Fire Drakes, and her friends all watched her for her next move.
Suddenly, Rian had an unsettling feeling in his stomach as he watched her, the shimmering grass waving under her legs as the wind blew her black hair into a mess behind her head. He never remembered it being black, but then again, he couldn't remember what color it had been.
So, he asked, as his stomach dropped, and his heart slowed and beat like the gong in his chest.
"So, what will you do now, Lia?"
She smiled, the sun reflecting her features as it shined like a star in her eyes, the crimson flame imbuing itself like a burn in their minds. They would remember that smile for years to come, and whenever they thought about her, whenever their minds traced back to the woman - to the Queen of Fire they knew, this would be the smile they remembered.
"I have to go."
It was all she said, but as they were about to question her further, a sudden thought flashed through their minds - though all of their minds as the image were shared between them.
Lia had seen a glimpse of her future with Cain when he brought her back from the abyss, and it was a future her mind wavered under, turned over and over in her head until the one thought passed through her mind like the clear reflection of the lake of still waters.
'This wasn't how I wanted them to find out. But so be it…'
The thought that passed through their mind, was the idea, a reality that none of them knew. Where she came from. Who she was. Why she was here.
The truth. She showed them the truth.
It took them a moment for their minds to unravel, the people she knew adapted the soonest, and those that didn't held their heads as if they had seen a dream pass before their eyes. But in all their minds she heard the one call, the one sound of their smiles as the sun shone past them and to the house behind her where a man stood in the doorway watching her.
They knew now, they could see her and her world past the borders and into the palace of gold and dreams. A palace filled with sad and lonely memories.
But they didn't hate her, they didn't frown or scowl.
They smiled, as if she was no longer that princess in the castle watching the sun rise and fall with each passing day. She was no longer that shadow that passed by in the throne room unnoticed by all.
She was one of them.
She was of Morden.
Lia turned her back to them as her friends watched her walk up though the passing grass and through the flowers and to the man who watched from the arch way of the door, his eyes a mirror to her own as she looked up at him slowly like all the world was watching.
She had tears in her eyes, like many of her family that watched from behind her, as the man spoke, his voice deep and echoing quietly amongst the people.
"Are you ready?"
He knew the answer. She did too.
Like a passing thought, she turned her head to her family in the distance past the sea of grass and shimmering sunlight, past the autumn leaves that fell like small fires frozen in the wind, and past the tears that flowed like rivers of diamonds down their skin.
She would never forget this moment, for as long as she lived.
It was perfect, even as she took his hand.
She stepped through the archway, like a ghost in the wind, and in the blink of an eye as the forest shook and the mountains stood silent, the wind howled, and the leaves fell like the sun's golden rays over the now empty archway.
They would remember her.
They would sing of her story and the tale of her glory, her victory.
They would remember their Queen of Fire, their Endless as its name echoed in the winds of the mountains and the forest that held fast against time.
They would remember Tyrannus the King of Malice as his name was sung in the bars and inns of Morden, and of the red eyed warrior that brought him down from the sky.
They would remember the battle, remember the war. They would remember the sea of flames she walked from and the world she tore apart.
They would remember her spirit, her tales of gory, her courage and her triumph. Even as her story was echoed across the lands to a Master in his home who sank to his chair in tears as he heard of her victory.
To the man who raised his glass in a bar filled with Hunters, as they chanted her name loud enough for even the Gods to hear them calling.
To the boy who raised his family with the lessons she taught him and of the mistakes he made and learned to forgive yet never forget.
To the Mayor in the caves and caverns of old and new, in a city that never fell into the darkness even in the years to pass when man could learn to fly and dig underground deeper than any pickaxe could go.
A Mayor who laid down the letter of the Hunter's triumph over the Great Dragon, and smiled as he remembered her fondly all those years ago.
As the Master, as Voln, as Randolph and Wallace set down their tools and trinkets, their worries and their troubles, and raised a glass to her name.
Even if the world was to forget her, she had changed the lives of many.
So that now even the world of Morden would never forget her name.
Her name.
Lia.