Creative Corner

[center][item=amber] [size=5][b][u]DAY ONE-HUNDRED TWENTY-TWO[/u][/b][/size] Ugh the writing sucked last update, but then again, that's about as good as my battle-writing skills are. >.> ALSO ISN'T THE NEW UPDATE TO THE FORUMS WONDERFUL?? I understand some people might not care for it--but once I got over my surprise, I find that I really do like how they re-did it. @SpottedLeaf125 @Amphithere @Lorde ----- ----- "What?" Peppin snarled, leaning over the small dragon with her teeth bared. "I told you," he told her coolly. "I changed my plans. You are welcome to watch from here, if you wish." "Watch your soldiers murdered?" She hissed, sweeping an arm out toward the battling dragons. "Face it, Theus. Your plan did not change--it has failed. I had faith in you, but it appears that you advanced a little too quickly. The royal army is destroying you." Theus narrowed his eyes at her, a frown tucked in the corners of his lips. "Do not think that I am not aware. My plans have yet to fail, Peppin, don't be so quick to judge." He brushed past her, watching the slaughter for a moment in silence. When he made it clear that Peppin would not be gaining any further audience with him, she began to walk away. "Where are you going?" As she turned around, for a moment Peppin thought she saw panic in his eyes. But then it was gone. "Away, if you have no further use of me," she told him airily. Theus scowled, but let her go. Peppin unfurled her wings and jumped into the air, gliding over the battle, searching. Then she noticed a small group of dragons pulled away to the side, and soared over. "What's this?" She murmured to herself. A dragon--most likely her replacement--had the prince caught. As Peppin came closer, she saw that Ryne was badly wounded. It seemed as if the assassin was toying with him. As she touched down on the grass, that was when she noticed who it was. It was him. Neither looked over at her. Peppin felt a growl rising in her throat as she glanced around, seeing no dragons nearby; no guards. She stalked forward, finally claiming attention as she approached. The prince huddled in a small pool of blood, eyes wide as he watched Peppin. The other dragon stood cockily, but his composure withered as he caught her eye. "Murderer," she hissed out, claws sinking into the dusty earth as she curled them. "We both are," he answered, but his voice had a wobble to it. He knew the source of her anger. "Perhaps, but you bothered a far better murderer," she said. Anger made her tremble, and she felt cold pleasure in the way that the dragon took a hesitant step away, crouching closer to the ground. "Do not interrupt Theus's plans," he tried to snap, but his voice was weak. It was the same as when Peppin had pinned a target; the response of fear. The cowardice as they cringed before death. "I will not," she assured him, taking a step forward. He stepped backward. For a moment there was silence, and the tension stretched tight between hunter and prey. Then Peppin struck. --- Ryne watched, helpless, as the body slumped to the ground. His would-be killer had seemed unstoppable, but now that Peppin arrived, he had doubts. He had doubts whether he would cheat death this time. The furious dragon slowly turned to look at him; fuchsia eyes glinting from the bloodshed. Her chest heaved as if she had just run a mile, and Ryne took another feeble step back. With his wing shredded, there was no chance he could escape. All his pain faded into the background as she began to creep forward. He had little surprise that Peppin had betrayed them, considering her background. Although he had been able to survive in other situations, Ryne realized blankly that this was his end. Agmae would lose her last heir. Peppin raised her bloodied hand, teeth bared. "Stop!"

[center][item=banded olivine] [size=5][b][u]DAY ONE-HUNDRED TWENTY-THREE[/u][/b][/size] Geez, I love this duo. I love this scene. I even made a special playlist (to listen to) to try to give it all the feels I could. In all honesty, this is probably some of the best writing I've done in a while lol. Hope it makes up for all the mediocre work lately! ;) @SpottedLeaf125 @Amphithere @Lorde ----- ----- Peppin jerked back as Dakota threw himself out in front of the prince, wings and arms spread out. "Don't attack him," he gasped desperately. Her hand began to tremble as it hung in the air, and her eyes stung as she watched him blocking Ryne. "Please," he begged. "I told you not to get in my way," she grit out. "I don't care," he responded, dark eyes hard and resolved. "You must kill me before you kill the prince." She stared at him, hand hanging undecided. Could she really kill her mentor? The only dragon left alive that still loved her, that had never given up on her? Peppin stood still, wondering how she could love him still even after she had made the choice to turn against him. "You left me," she said softly, fingers curling gently against her palm. Her arm lowered until it was by her side. "How am I supposed to love you still?" "That doesn't matter anymore," Dakota told her. "You are ready to murder the prince and end the royal line; how could your love for me effect this?" "You were my world, Dakota," she said, clenching her hands together into fists and lashing her tail. "You saved my family, took me under your wing to learn magic, and I grew to love you as my dearest brother. But you were so stubbornly loyal, and you left me for the war. Left me alone. That started this all, Dakota, can you not see?" Peppin's throat choked off the last of her words, and she felt tears slipping down her cheeks. "You did not have to leave your family," he argued, still positioned in front of the weakened prince. He did not move, even when she had backed off. "You could've been happy there, Peppin; you could've even joined the cause once you had become of age." "Happy there? The village was burned, and I most likely would've gone with it. I never wanted to become a killer, nor did I ever want to join a war. I only wanted peace. And you took it away." Her voice was but a thread of breath, and her heart felt heavy. "I never meant to cause you such pain," Dakota said, looking away. "No sorry I say nor anything else can do a thing to what has been done. I know you too well, Peppin. So all I can say now is this: it is not too late. Turn back, and stop submitting to these temptations. What joy can they really bring you? How can they make your heart glad?" "You do not understand!" Peppin exclaimed. "It has been my way of survival, a way to cope, for so long. Do they make me happy? No, but what else can I do?" "Come back!" He pleaded, eyes shining with held-back tears. Dakota stepped forward, folding his wings and holding out a hand. "You say such things, but you have had so many opportunities to enter the light once again. And yet you push them all away." "I thought all the ones I loved had died--I thought I was all by myself," she murmured. "In keeping to my sins, I thought I would eventually die and no longer have to worry. I wanted that. Yet even death felt too bitter for me." "Oh Peppin, how my heart aches," Dakota whispered. "I regret so much leaving you, and how I wish I had stayed. We could've been happy together. And we still can be." "How? How can that be--when my life has been scarred beyond redemption?" Peppin said, looking up and into his sorrowful eyes. "The royal army is winning, do you not see? A new dawn is coming, and in that bright day, peace will be upon Agmae once again. You have a chance to leave this dark night still, Peppin." Her lips trembled, and even when he proposed such a lovely idea, she still felt loathe to except it. Could it be that she truly was just what she had been--a murderer? "Take my hand," he breathed. Peppin stared at his slightly shaking fingers, outstretched toward her. As they always had been. He had always loved her, even when he had left. It was a bad decision, a wrong that he had justified. "How can my ways be righted?" She asked aloud. "How can I live with myself, knowing the evils that I have committed?" "There is such a thing as forgiveness," Dakota answered with a slight, gentle smile. "Now please, Peppin. Do you truly wish to die a traitor? Take my hand, let your shame and sadness go." She stared up into his dark blue eyes. The eyes that had always seemed to hold such wisdom and love; a depth to them that she could not--could never--quite understand. He had always put trust in her, and in the end, returned. He came back, and was now asking the same of her. Could there be happiness after such a dark, terrible time in her life? After another moment of hesitation, Peppin slowly reached up and placed her hand in his.

[center][item=berserker] [size=5][b][u]DAY ONE-HUNDRED TWENTY-FOUR[/u][/b][/size] Guys!! Guys!!! I'm finally reaching the end; after this update (and perhaps one more) ties are gonna be resolved and then the epilogue. :D Also its exciting with my horseback riding today because I think I'm gonna start moving closer to learning how to barrel race! Today I learned how to turn around a barrel. @SpottedLeaf125 @Amphithere @Lorde ----- ----- The soft song of crickets echoed through the silent night; lifting over the field as the moon rose. His silver light shone down and reflected off the blood spilled upon the ground; the remnants of death. Although battle had raged hours before, all was still now. Birds nestled together in their safe branches and rabbits huddled underground. All was peaceful. But not for Theus. He did not allow emotions to overcome his heart; even as they threatened to swallow him. All his life he saw no value in innocent life, found no remorse to kill those who had done nothing wrong. But when saw the blood leak out of Roe, he understood now what grief truly was. His greed was what caused his downfall. By slaughtering the Aetameres when he found them sick in their camps, he had killed his own chance of winning Agmae's throne. He rushed forward like an excited child, and in his own folly, Theus had fallen. As he sat in his prison that night, watching the moths flutter about a single lamp, he had nothing else to do but think back on his actions. Theus grit his teeth, trying to keep in his rage and hurt. How he wished for his death to come now. When dawn rose, he felt exhaustion weighing him down, begging his eyelids to close. Theus wondered when he last slept; probably a long time ago. He suddenly found it hard to remember much beyond his mistakes, that seemed to play over and over in his mind. They screamed failure at him, screaming in his parents' voices. "Up." Came the harsh command. Theus stood up. The guard took him and led him out of the prison. "Walk." The guard shoved him, and Theus stumbled across the path. The courtyard, where he would be condemned soon enough, was still filling with dragons. And two vaguely familiar figures were approaching them, to the guards' frustration. "Sir, Ma'am, please back up from the prisoner," they stated, one stepping forward to block them. "Please, let us to speak to him. We are his parents," his father pleaded. The guard frowned, but took his place again at his side, granting permission. "Have you come to be ashamed of me?" Theus asked, keeping his chin up. The sight of his parents hardly rattled him; it instead made him angry beyond all words. He clenched his fists, frills flattened, but he schooled his face to be calm. "We came to ask this: how you could do such a deed?" His mother spoke up, with surprising steel in her eyes. "Why? Are you as blind as you were cruel to me?" Theus barked out, hardly holding in harsh laughter. "I was abandoned and cast out--you held no love for me. Did you really expect me to find another village and settle peacefully?" He scoffed. "We did not think you would be so bitter as to try to kill our beloved prince," his father said with a frown. "When you cast me out, I wanted to prove to you that I could become something far greater than a mere soldier. And though in the end I stand here awaiting death's embrace, I achieved it." Theus held his head up proudly, smirking. "I raised my own loyal army, destroyed the Aetameres, and nearly had the royal prince of Agmae assassinated. I would have succeeded if not for a traitor. What can you boast of, Father? You, Mother?" He leaned forward, bearing his teeth, and the guards grabbed his arms to hold him back. His parents stared blankly at him, and although there was no real emotion on their faces other than fear, Theus could tell they still were disgusted with him. "You sat back safely in an outpost, and hardly have ever killed. So be ashamed. Be abashed of the son who apparently shamed you--two dragons who have nothing to their name. If I bring such feelings, then I hope you feel ashamed that you nearly let your precious prince die because of yourselves. I was simply the fire--you were the flint and wood that sparked the flame." "You truly are touched by the darkness," his mothered murmured, clinging to her husband's arm. "Is that all you can say?" Theus nearly yelled. "Do you still feel no guilt?" A small part of him still hung off their latest word, hoping for a little, sweet drop of any emotion. Anything that suggested they might actually have care--even a little--about their son. "I feel guilt at raising such a terrible murderer," his father suddenly growled, muscles in his jaw twitching and jumping. At his sharp words, Theus now understood, and so he closed off his heart. He let that hope he had harbored for ten years die. "I'm surprised that you call me terrible, when I stand before the two most heartless dragons that ever disgraced Agmae," he murmured softly, hoping they could see the hatred he poured into his facial features. "How can you not love a son, even if you disown him? That is far worse than a murderer. A mother should always love--but you?" He shook his head, seeing again Roe. Roe and his blood. "In all my life," he stated, holding his chin up once again. "In all my life, only one dragon has ever loved me. And he is now dead. I can say now that I am glad to follow him."

[center][item=fungus-covered branch] [size=5][b][u]DAY ONE-HUNDRED TWENTY-FIVE[/u][/b][/size] I'm being a bad girl and ignoring my math to write lol. Poor Theus. :( I feel worse because I'm not all that sorry for doing this to him... @SpottedLeaf125 @Amphithere @Lorde ----- ----- The prince's voice droned on, but Theus did not bother to listen. Even as he kept his eyes fixed on the one who sentenced him, he could not bring himself to hear what he spoke of, for it made him feel far too bitter. Theus made sure to keep his chin up, to look impassive and calm. And within himself, that was reflected. He felt no qualms at dying, for by now, it felt far better than living. Words were spoken. His parents were most likely watching him in the crowd, feeling ashamed, as they always did. Many others were probably looking on in disgust, as well. "And so I conclude..." Theus finally dragged his attention back to the voice of the prince, eyes shifting slightly to look him in the face. "That Theus is guilty of murder and treachery to the Throne of Agmae. He is hereby sentenced to death." There was a quiet collection of muttered agreements among the crowd, and Theus found himself not resenting them. He had chosen this path of evil, and now he would finish walking it. "Theus," the prince called out. "Do you have any final words? Speak now if you wish to be heard." For a moment he was silent. "I do," he finally answered. "Then speak." "I would like to say that I am not remorseful of my deeds that I have done," he began. "We live in a cruel world, and though most of you remain blind to it, that cruelness is still all around us. My parents disowned me for not being able to call magic, and they were part of the royal army. Can you see that bad is in the good? I should hope that, even if I failed in completing my plan, my story might be told. I did not ask to become what your prince accuses me of just now. I did not want to become such a vile creature." "But that is the cruelness that resides in our world--yes, even in Agmae. I wish that all parents would see their children as precious, that all traitors would be true, that the world could really be as sweet as we make it seem. But death is the king of all, and reigns here--even above your prince. Corruption will happen again. Sadness shall put joy in chains, and the blood of the happy will be spilled upon the ground." "I hope, that in years to come, you will remember my words and weep when you realized how you treated them as nothing. Death is coming," he spoke gently. "But will you, great prince, hold your head up like I?" For a moment the whole courtyard was silent, and even the distant music of water could be heard along with faint birdsong. Theus stared into the pair of crimson eyes; the eyes that condemned him. "Is that all?" The prince asked. He had to give the dragon credit for sounding so unshaken, even though he could tell that his speech had unnerved him. Theus said nothing, but continued to stare. He watched as the prince raised a hand, signalling the executioner to come forward. The dragon carried the sacred blade of ritual, Theus could see as he shifted his gaze from up high to down low. There was a flash of silver as the blade was unsheathed; metal hitting the sun. Theus's heart stayed calm, his mind blank, as he stood firmly. The sharp twinge as the metal kissed his skin. He looked up, fixing his gaze upon the prince, who caught his eye. The dragon shifted uncomfortably, and Theus smiled at him. A sudden flare of pain, and darkness clouded his sight.

[center][item=oozing tusk] [size=5][b][u]DAY ONE-HUNDRED TWENTY-SIX[/u][/b][/size] #Otp and brotp goals. And we [i]are[/i] gonna get back to Ballad's povs soon! Just one more update and then it'll all be his. (That also means it is the end. :o) @SpottedLeaf125 @Amphithere @Lorde ----- ----- The wind gently blew in the twilight evening, the last golden hues of the sunset illuminating the dragon's slender frame. In that moment, Aranad had to wonder if he had ever seen his wife look so beautiful. "You want to stay, don't you?" She asked softly, not turning around as he came up beside her. "I do, Ellia," he sighed. "But I am not. The turmoils of the court restarting is no place for you, not now. Not after all we have been through." "Aranad," she whispered, looking up at him with eyes that shimmered like the stars above. "For once, you can do something for yourself. I do not mind." "I would like to ask you," he instead said, "What do you want beyond anything else right now? Forget my heart's wishes and instead focus on yours. Please, my love, tell me." Ellia was silent, leaning against the marble railing and gazing out on glittering lake below. "I want somewhere quiet," she at last spoke. "Someplace peaceful, where we can live alone and not be bothered by another living soul. I want you, Aranad. All to myself." "Then you shall have it," he answered. "What you want is what I want. We shall find an area that no one has tread upon yet, where no eye has roved, no hand has built." "Are you certain, Aranad?" She asked, looking up again with a doubtful look. "I understand how much you've grown to love Prince Ryne. Do you really wish to leave?" "The only thing I want is to see you happy. To live with you and no longer fear." He dragged a hand down his face, closing his eyes. How Aranad wished he had never joined the Aetameres; never bothered to enter the war. Perhaps he would still have his whole family. "Thank you," she murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Anything for you." He intended to say more, but he suddenly choked up on tears. So instead, Aranad let the silence speak for him and gathered her under his arm, crystal-like drops falling from his face. --- "Doesn't the prince need you?" Peppin watched Dakota look out the window, one hand on the wall. "He has had need of me, but not any longer. He is growing up; Ryne needs to make decisions on his own. And he has his friends and advisers, I am not the only one, Peppin." He still did not turn to face her, and that made her slightly frustrated. "I thought you would want to stay here," she muttered. "Peppin," Dakota dragged her name out into a sigh. "Could I really keep you here, where your treachery is sure to spill eventually? Not everyone would love you, even if Ryne were to pardon all your past offenses. No, I'd rather move somewhere else. Somewhere peaceful, so that your past cannot keep haunting us." When he shifted from the window, leaning against the wall now to watch her, Peppin saw how weary he looked. "I would like that," she said quietly. "Perhaps--Perhaps we could go back to the glade. My old home." Yet there was a waver in her tone, and the memories that often plagued her came rushing back. Peppin was suddenly breathing quickly, as if she was facing a younger, bloodied Dakota, saying how he was to leave. Facing an unknown murderer, taking away her only source of love. "I was thinking of going somewhere else," Dakota said carefully. "Maybe the sea? Would you like that?" "The sea," Peppin echoed, trying to think if she had ever actually seen it. Agmae was but an island--and not a large one--but big enough that even through all her travelling, she could not recall ever going there. "Yes," he breathed. The sea. There the waves caressed dove-white beaches and gulls cried to one another in their harsh voices. The sea. Where the waves glittered green-blue like an odd-colored diamond, and her sound was supposed to lull even the hardest heart into peacefulness. "We could restart, live the life we should have when I left you all those years ago. Think of it, Peppin. Have you ever seen the sea?" "No," she told him in a hushed tone. "Neither have I," he told her with a small smile. "Would you really give up all of this--royalty and to stand beside the prince--for me? I am but a child, always in need of correction. Certainly you have grown tired of correcting me." "Never, Peppin," he whispered, shaking his head slightly. "Never." He held out his hand, so similar to what he had done out on the battlefield. "Would you come with me?" Peppin stepped slowly forward, as if in a trance, seeing only Dakota. Her dearest friend. Instead of taking his hand, she threw herself against him, beginning to weep. He gathered her into his arms, clinging on as if they were lost in a raging river, and had nothing else to hold onto. It was as if they had survived a storm, and now there was nothing left for them but each other. It was as if she had found her way back home.

[center][item=wood shrimp] [size=5][b][u]DAY ONE-HUNDRED TWENTY-SEVEN[/u][/b][/size] Writers block really, really doesn't want me to finish this thing, I don't think. :T I did do an update the other day, but the writing was terrible and I had to get rid of it ASAP. Now I'm gonna try again...but I'm still a bit stuck as to how to go forward with this stupid update. I AM PRACTICALLY AT THE END YOU GUYS DON'T EVEN KNOW [i]There's like three or four more updates and this isn't even me being a stupid rambler anymore this is it[/i] @SpottedLeaf125 @Amphithere @Lorde ----- ----- It was after dinner when Ryne had asked Aera to go on a walk with him, and she was all too happy to accept. He was to be crowned in two days and was about, in her opinion, to drown in all the politics and problems. It was a wonder she could even see him this night, and that there was not another lengthy meeting. Yet no matter her views, Ryne continued to assure her things were cooling down. "Cooling down in time for you to be crowned, and then thrown right back in twice as deep," she responded with a roll of her eyes. Ryne gave a snort, shaking his head sadly. "I wish it weren't true, Aera, but it is. My mother--though I do not want to talk ill of her--did not bother at all to clean up the mess my grandmother left behind. Both were so eager to chase after the Aetameres and clear up the war they did not bother to be political." "And now it all falls to you to set the castle back into motion," Aera murmured. "I want to say it is not fair, but I do not think any of our lots we have gotten can be entirely fair." She looked at the ground, idly swinging their hands that were clasped together. "I want this, anyways," he told her, and earnest gleam in his eye as he squeezed her fingers. "It may be tiring, but I [i]do[/i] actually enjoy myself." "Even after sitting in on three-hour meetings nearly back-to-back?" Aera teased, laughing as he sighed. "Maybe not then," he said with a rueful grin. "This is only the third day; I have many more to come. I'm sure then that there'll be plenty of instances where you can remind me of the tiresome times." "You mean to say I can really have a spot?" Aera asked, heart tripping. Ryne had promised her such a place in the castle, but she understood that there might not be room. She had, after all, no political experience. She had been trained to fight, and before that, to be a merchant. "Of course," he said, pausing. They were standing on the shore of a creek that ran down off the cliffs above, the stars above winking down at them in the darkness, mixed with the water's gentle song, made Aera feel peaceful. Time seemed stuck in this spot, and she felt as if she would never want to leave. It was too beautiful--too hopeful, too wonderful. "How could I ever live without you here?" Aera shrugged, feeling shy suddenly. Her shyness had long passed with Ryne, but now it came back unannounced and unwanted. "Ryne--" He cut her off, lifting a hand. "I would like to ask a question," he whispered. "Do you wish to stay here, at the castle, because of its beauty and because of honor? Or do you stay for me? I hate to sound vain--but please, Aera, I need to know." She looked at him, a little startled at the direct question. She took a moment before answering, watching the starlight reflected in the slowly moving creek. "I have to admit that the beauty of this place does move my heart some," she spoke softly. "But I think that it is because of you, Ryne. When I am with you I have different...feelings. Nothing like being with one of my friends, or even with my parents. I have this strange happiness often at times--like a giddiness--that comes when we spend time like this. Alone." She looked up at Ryne, who watched her with bright crimson eyes, a nervousness almost shining within them this night. He slowly reached up and place a hand against her cheek, and for a moment they stood there. Aera felt a gentle calmness descend upon her on his touch, causing her to shiver. Then he leaned down and kissed her forehead, lips lingering, making her skin tingle. "Aera," he said quietly. "I have need of much help in these upcoming months, and I've been thinking about it. A king often finds much of his support through a queen, you know." There was a question hanging in the air--Aera could almost see it in his eyes--feel it in the intimacy of his touch. As they stood staring at one another, faces so close, the world seemed to quiet until not even the stream was heard. Looking into his eyes--into his heart--she smiled.

[center][item=empty zalis nest] [size=5][b][u]DAY ONE-HUNDRED TWENTY-EIGHT[/u][/b][/size] Sorry for not updating in a while; this weekend was a beautiful chaos of my brother coming home, my birthday happening, and staying up until midnight two nights to talk with online friends. The rest of the week I did not update I blame writer's block for. I have FINALLY come to the end and now I'm at a loss of words (literally) on how to write it. heh. heh heh (No, this is not the last update, but its the ending all the same) @SpottedLeaf125 @Amphithere @Lorde ----- ----- Ryne fingered the soft cloth, wondering what his mother would have looked like in it. It was late in the night, and he should have been getting rest, but the call to explore the castle felt far stronger than sleeping. Currently he stood in what was once his mother's room; still decorated for a child. He wondered if his grandmother had stayed in the castle to raise her--it certainly seemed like it. He let the heavily decorated, smooth silk slip from his claw-tips and back into the dusty chest. Ryne shut the lid and took one last look around the room with its marble walls and ornately rugged floors, taking in the musty state of his mother's past. Then he silently stepped back out into the hall. He walked down the corridor slowly, trailing a hand along the the silver-white wall, taking in the silent, muted beauty of the castle draped in the darkness of night. Although in the day--when the sun shone bright--you could see the decorations more clearly, Ryne almost liked it better under starlight, instead. It had a softness that calmed him. Why had his grandmother not led him here? Why not to the castle? This thought had pestered Ryne for almost the whole time he had been at the castle, and he found himself wishing the spirit was still with him. So many questions, and no one could answer them. As he walked, Ryne came across another door at the end of the hall. It had double doors that were richly carved from a dark wood, and decorations on the marble surrounding them. It must be the queen's chambers, for on the opposite end Ryne slept in the king's rooms. He carefully took the handle and slid open the wood, which did not squeak despite age. Inside the bed was carefully made, the dresser was covered in jewelry and bottles of scents, and a chair stood neatly tucked against a desk. Ryne walked over, curious, to the desk to see what was on it. Ink wells and pens were lined in a neat row, and moth-eaten papers were stacked in a small pile to the left. Everything so perfect, so pristine. It made Ryne wonder at what his grandmother must have been like; causing an ache in his chest. The papers were blank, but inside the drawers there were letters and other notes. He did not bother reading them, deciding to keep the precious papers for a later time. Tears slipped down his cheeks as he looked around the room, wishing forlornly that his grandmother had been more interested in keeping up the throne instead of the war. That, perhaps, they could have grown up together as a family. Not fragments of a love that had been shattered by one death after another. A painting on the wall across from the canopied bed caught Ryne's eye, and he went to the window to open the dusty curtains. Gentle moonlight poured in, illuminating the painting. Ryne stared, transfixed by the image that was revealed. The painting was of his family. His grandmother stood--tall and proud, gorgeous gray-white markings an echo of his own pattern. Next to her was a firm-looking black dragon, who must have been his grandfather. Ryne knew nothing about him. And then there was his parents. His mother looked like a near perfect copy of her mother--except softer and lither, with slightly different gray markings. She had a small smile on her face, unlike his grandparents, and then there was his father. A happy looking dragon--his father seemed to be carefree and regal. And Ryne was there, too. He was but a tiny dragon in his mother's arms, but he was still there. It made him ache more than he had in days. "If only," he whispered into the empty night. "If only we could be together again--here, in our victory." Ryne's voice sounded small to himself as he place a hand on the canvas, gazing up longingly at the painted faces. "I feel so alone."

[center][item=stone fertility statue] [size=5][b][u]DAY ONE-HUNDRED TWENTY-NINE[/u][/b][/size] I got my item from Pinkerton, went to this thread, then sat blinking stupidly as I suddenly forgot what it was. And then, going through my horde, I remembered as I saw it. I swear my memory is as good as a dead rat. As I'm writing this update, it has suddenly struck me that this is it. The epilogue will be tomorrow. I'm gonna miss my boy. :( Sorry its a little lengthy today! @SpottedLeaf125 @Amphithere @Lorde ----- ----- "Nyu!" The sweet sound of his cousin's voice made the dragon smile, and it brightened even more as he saw her. Nisqa ran across the hall and launched herself against him, and Nyu hardly was able to catch the excited dragon. "Oh my stars, I can't believe this day is happening." He held her tightly, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I know," he murmured. "I've missed you so much, Nisqa." She leaned back, eyes shining, and began to laugh. Tears accompanied her giggles, and she sniffed, trying to wipe at them. "I'm just so happy." Nyu found tears in his own eyes, and Noya was giving a watery smile behind his sister. "I know," he said. "I never thought it'd happen--but now we can watch Agmae rise from the shadows together." "Oh, stop being so poetic. You're starting to sound like Ryne," Noya piped up, making them laugh. "I guess I am. Hopefully I'm still here, under all this sappiness," Nyu said, grinning. Nisqa grabbed his hand, and then tugged him over to her brother so she could take his fingers as well. "I'm sure you are," she teased, swinging their clasped hands. "But let's forget about the war. We're together again, finally!" --- "I'm sorry to hear you're leaving, too, Aranad. Funny to think one time I would have loved to see you go," Ryne could hear the sorrow in his voice, even if it was selfish. The fierce mage beside him deserved peace with his wife, after the service he gave. "Time can do a lot of things," the other dragon answered quietly. "It sure can." "I must thank you again, Ryne, for allowing this. I understand that you value my opinion, and I'm honored that you do. But Ellia wishes to move away, and I want her happy. May I ask what you mean by your choice of words? He glanced aside at Ryne, eyes curious. "Of course," he told him. "Dakota is leaving, too. I offered him a position as my head councilor, but he declined. He told me Peppin needs to heal after suffering so much, and I can only agree." "You're letting her go?" There was slight surprise in Aranad's voice. "Peppin was not evil, Aranad," Ryne murmured, looking up at the lofty ceiling. "I wonder often if she ever was, even at her worst. I value Dakota's word. And he said that she was once a good child; corrupted when he left her behind in his duty to the throne. I may not trust Peppin, but I trust Dakota." Aranad said nothing, but the silence was not uncomfortable. Ryne looked down at his hands, wondering if the ache in his heart would ever quite leave. With two of his dear companions leaving, it only widened the gap that had begun to grow within him. "I should be going now," Aranad said after a while. "We'll be leaving the day after your coronation." And he left Ryne standing there. --- The coronation was a grand affair; maids had made garlands of green leaves and acorns and strewn them across the throne room, accenting the graceful silver marble. White water lilies, brought in from the castle's own flourishing ponds and rivers, also added beauty to the already beautiful room. It was packed tightly with as many dragons as it could hold; spilling out into the halls, children jumping up and down to peek into the lavish throne room. The leaders that had over-taken the roles of holding the castle ranked the staircase, and Ryne's companions that had aided him on his journeys stood facing the crowd, earning special spots in the time of ceremony. Ryne stood right before the small steps leading up to the bronze throne, trying to not let his fingers tremble. Other than his tremors, he felt calm. An aged dragon with dark maroon eyes slowly entered the room--as tradition went, he was to be the one to crown Ryne. The bronze crown--with graceful curves and shimmering, polished metal--was settled onto a cushion to the right of the throne. Ryne stepped forward when called, hardly registering the hundreds of dragons standing behind him--all watching. All waiting. Despite the cramped room, he could only feel as if it was a private affair. The vows passed by in a blur, though he was certain that he would remember them later. The royal elder read several ceremonial lines, but they passed by like a breeze. This was the end. The war was over, the royal line to rise back into power, and all rebellion destroyed. It felt like a sacred day. It felt wrong. His mother should have been the one crowned, not he. Yet as Ryne knelt, bowing his head, it also felt right. Being in the position of power was what he was born to do--and he felt his birthright sharply as the elder lifted up the crown. "May this day herald a new dawn of a new kingship--may it shine brightly as a remembered time for all eternity. Rise, King Ryne. Greet your people." Ryne rose, turning to face the crowds, the crown cool upon his brow. "Kneel, people of Agmae. Greet your King." The people knelt. And Ryne felt peace.

[center][item=pink chalcedony] [size=5][b][u]EPILOGUE[/u][/b][/size] [size=2][i]Day One-Hundred Thirty[/i][/size] @SpottedLeaf125 @Amphithere @Lorde ----- ----- It was a cool spring morning; a gentle breeze sighed through the branches of trees that were still putting forth bright, new buds of light green leaves. Long grass waved, causing colorful flowers to dance underneath the shining sun. Rivers sang their songs joyfully as they passed underneath arching marble bridges, glistening with light and bubbling over with laughter. Two dragons passed over one of these bridges, talking in quiet voices as they walked. Another dragon came running toward them, calling out. He delivered a letter, and the larger of the two companions took it. "Who is it from, Ryne?" His wife asked curiously. Ryne smiled. "It is from Aranad." "Open it!" The other urged him. Ryne did; breaking the simple wax seal and sliding out the tan parchment tucked inside. He carefully unfolded it and held the note out into the sunlight, clearing his throat to read. [i]"Dearest Ryne, It hardly feels as if it has been a year, now, since we have last seen one another. Amazing how time passes--especially when I should feel it here, in this isolated mountain range Ellia and I have picked for our new home. I do hope that you will respond to this letter. I often find myself thinking of how you and Aera are doing at the castle. I send the best wishes that everything has worked out smoothly. I wish I could be there. Perhaps one day we shall move back; but for now the future is veiled. I also write to let you know that we are settled quite happily, and to tell you of the news we bear. Ellia had a second child not a month ago--another little girl. She is full of health and life. I could not be more joyful right now, Ryne. We have named her Dawn--I suspect you will know why. I shall end this here. I hope to hear from you soon, Ryne. May we meet again. --Aranad"[/i] "That's wonderful to hear," Aera said with a smile, eyes bright. "It is," her husband agreed. "I couldn't be more happy for Aranad--he deserves it after all he's been through. Come on; let's go back to my rooms. I'll write him back immediately." The two hurried off, leaving the peaceful gardens behind. --- "Oh, can you not stay?" A group of children hovered in the doorway, blocking the exit, fidgeting with excitement. "Peppin is waiting," he warned them. "I shouldn't be out long." "But please!" One of the little ones begged, reaching up with pin-prick claws and grasping at his cloak. "Please Dakota--just one story?" He sighed, sitting back down onto the rickety wooden chair. The muted roar of waves filled the silence, and somewhere outside, a seagull cried out into the twilit eve. Dakota thought about what he could tell as the children flooded into the room like the sea, eyes shining like the sun upon the green-blue water, all waiting for him to fill the room with his voice. "Alright," he said. "Today's shall be short, so no complaining." The children bobbed their heads like gulls, hungrily waiting like them, too, for their story. "Once upon a time," he began, eyes looking up and out the doorway. They met the amethyst gaze of another dragon, but she only smiled. He gave a distant one back, and continued on. "There was a little girl who lived on a farm, and she did not realize how very special she was. You see, this girl had a hidden power inside of her..." The children sat with rapt attention, gasping when he began to tell them what this power did. They would not understand what it actually looked like, nor would any of them would ever find themselves like the little girl in the story. For magic had passed out of the world a long time ago. One of the littlest ones squeaked in fear as he explained the horror of the war that had happened before the rule of King Ryne, and how the now-grown-up girl fought valiantly against the fearsome warriors who called themselves Aetameres. "Did this really happen over thirty years ago?" One of the children interrupted, eyes round and mouth hanging open. Dakota smiled, readjusting the squirming toddler that had crawled onto his lap during the story. "Yes, it really did. Now, do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?" "Keep going! Keep going!" They cried. And so he did. --- Ryne leaned against the banister, gazing up into the morning sky streaked with gold and orange. At one time he had felt lonely, unsure that he could ever lead Agmae through the war and into a new era. Now that time had passed, and so did his grief for the parents he hardly knew. He had a family of his own, and he was surrounded by love and life. Agmae had risen out of her ashes, and he had stayed strong. It was just as they talked about. Agmae had risen into her new dawn.