Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hope is a thing with feathers.”

Ena looks up at her dear sister, Xipe smiling gently at the mortals below.

“What do you mean?” Ena asks. Xipe glanced at her.

“Exactly that. Hope is a thing with feathers. It’s fleeting, whimsical even, yet it flies freely.” Xipe dips her hand to the sky below, “Do you ever wonder what flying feels like, dear sister?”

“No.” Ena returns back to her book. She, among others, cannot hope to sail through the skies.

“Why not?”

Ena gazes gently at Xipe, “...What good is something so whimsical if reality will never see its fruition.”

“Oh, you don’t know that.” Xipe laughs, “Perhaps the mortals will one day take to the sky.”

Despite her misgivings, the mortals did take to the sky. 

Xipe marvels at their creations, yet Ena cannot help but wonder if such breaches in ubiquity would really serve them well.

“Look! I wonder how they did that,” Xipe muses, admiring what looked like a canister. Ena peers at machines, the intricate workings linked together in perfect harmony.

“...Would flight really help people? Ena asks.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Xipe looks at her sister, “The worlds we watch evolve and with it, the things needed in order to survive. Rather than remain rigid in their ways, mortals would rather explore a different world, one that perhaps makes life easier for others.”

Ena blinks, “But, doesn’t that invite risk?”

“Everything invites risk.” Xipe gazes fondly at the flying machines, “Even now, taking to the sky means there’s a risk of falling to their deaths. Yet, they still fly.” She looks at Ena, “Are you afraid people would start tumbling to their deaths?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Perhaps, but rules exist right?” Xipe asks. Ena winces.

“Rules can only do so much. They can be broken as often as they want. The strong have a duty to ensure the weak do not perish.”

Xipe hums, “Perhaps that is the strict order your path dictates, but I don’t think that’s necessarily true.”

“Why?”

Xipe smiles, “For all your nagging about how unsafe it is, you still let them fly through the skies.”

“I’m just…” Ena trails off, Xipe softly laughing. 

“One would hardly believe you are the older one.”

“Nonsense,” Ena huffs.

Xipe looks up at the stars, “Order is necessary for stability, dear Sister, yet such inflexibility can stifle and kill civilizations.”

“Chaos can also kill civilizations.”

“That perhaps is why we are sisters, no?” Xipe gestures, “Without Order, there is no harmony, yet without Harmony, there can be no order.” She then points to the flying machines, “It is the same with them. Without concrete rules, they cannot fly as they desire, yet if they don’t fly, the rules in place do not evolve and society stagnates, rotting from the inside out.”

Ena gazes at Xipe in thought, “But people will always disrupt the order. Order must be protected to protect the people.”

Xipe shakes her head, “People are not so weak that they must be protected. The strong lend their strengths to the weak, and weak support the strong so they may continue pushing forward.” She gazes down at the mortal coil, “The strong learn to fly, so that the weak may one day fly beside them. They stand on the back of giants before them, hoping to instill the same inspiration into the future.”

“And if they fall to their deaths?”

“Then the weak learn from the strong to take their place, perhaps to take to the skies once more or to write the rules that protect them.” Xipe smiles, “We do not tread separate paths, Sister. You are not my precursor, nor am I your successor. We are wholly related, walking side by side.”

Ena looks at her sister, processing her words. Rather, trying to digest them yet being unable to do so.

“...I still do not understand, Sister,” Ena admits. Xipe nods.

“I thought as much.” She takes her hand, “Then come with me. We’ll crawl first, then perhaps walk. When you start to understand more, we’ll run. We’ll run until we can feel the wind beneath our feet, the breeze lifting us up into the air.” Xipe smiles. “When you finally understand, we’ll fly, fly right beside each other and watch as our Pathstriders follow us toward the sky.”

“Xipe…” Ena bites her lip, “And if I never learn?”

“Then no matter what, I’ll be right here with you.” Xipe smiles, “I’ll be here, until the day we learn to take flight.”

Chapter Text

The first thing Tayzzyronth had expected to see was a healthy hive growing as he intended, eggs and workers tending to themselves and crafting their homes.

He hadn’t expected to see another Aeon gleefully devouring the hives, leaving half-finished carcasses and innards in their wake.

“I’m so hungry…I can’t stop…It hurts…” The Aeon murmurs, yet still stuffing eggs into their mouth.

Flabbergasted, Tayzzyronth clears their throat, the Aeon whipping around. His interruption seems to break their hungered craze, the Aeon dropping the eggs in their hands.

“I’m so sorry!” She shrieks, cowering in shame, “I was just so hungry…I couldn’t stop myself…” She covers her body, or face, or something, hiding herself from view. Had the hive she’d been feasting on been an actual attempt at Propagation, Tayzzyronth might’ve been mad, but thankfully, it was only an experiment.

“It’s fine. If anything, it tells me something about the hive.” He picks up the shattered casing, examining it, “It means they aren’t procreating enough, and they aren’t big enough.” He looks at her, “You are The Voracity, right?”

She peeks out from behind her spot, nodding, “Yes. You must be The Swarm.”

Tayzzyronth nods, “I suppose better me than another Aeon. I can’t imagine how well the others would react if you had devoured anything of theirs.”

Oroboros, seemingly reassured, relaxes, “I see…since you can propagate as often as you need.”

“Something like that.” Tayzzyronth cleans up the destroyed hive, “Did it taste alright?”

Oroboros gives him a confused gesture, “Taste?”

“The hive. Did it taste alright?” Tayzzyronth point to the half-eaten eggs, “You ate quite a lot of them.”

“Oh…I couldn’t tell.” Oroboros touches her belly, “I can’t taste anything I eat, since I only eat to fill my stomach.”

“But your stomach is never full?”

“Yes.” Oroboros looks away from him, “I was always so hungry. I ate and ate, yet I never felt full, never sated.” She pitifully smiles, “I just want to feel full, for once.”

Tayzzyronth holds the shard of the hive in his arms, looking down at the experiment. It failed, since Oroboros tore into it and ate everything that was edible, yet Tayzzyronth had learned something new.

“Did the hive sate your hunger?” He asks. Oroboros blinks before feeling her stomach.

“I don’t…feel as hungry any more.” Fair enough.

Tayzzyronth gestures to himself, “Then feel free to feast on the swarms I make.”

Oroboros is surprised, “Are you sure? They are your creations.”

“I am not The Permanence, my creations aren’t expected to survive until the very end.” He chuckles, “I can think of it as weeding out the flaws.”

Oroboros twiddles her thumbs, “Would that really be okay with you?”

Tayzzyronth nods, “Yes.”

She ponders for a moment before smiling, “Alright, then. I’m counting on you.”

Most of the time, he’s testing out swarms for their vitality and fertility. Swarms with high rates of procreation mean the swarm had more longevity sheerly due to population; there was an inherent power in number, after all.

This is the first time he’s testing for survivability.

“Their exoskeletons are a little soft,” Oroboros notes as she chews. An Aeon’s power far outclasses a regular mortal’s, even Emanators have no hope of beating an Aeon. That said, innovation and ingenuity evolve as time passes, which means a hard exoskeleton now could become wimpy and pliable in the near future.

“I see. They should be more durable.” Tayzzyronth writes down her feedback, “Should they be so hard they break your teeth?”

“I’d like to see you try.” She smiles, “You should try to make them indigestible, as I sometimes swallow things whole.”

“Indigestible?” Tayzzyronth hums, “Resistant to acid?”

“Something like that.” Oroboros smiles, “That way, perhaps my hunger will be sated.”

Tayzzyronth pauses. Giving her an indigestible thing…

“Would it?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” She answers, “I hope it does. That way, I can finally stop eating.”

Tayzzyronth tilts his head, “You don’t enjoy it?”

She gives him an envious smile.

“If it was the only thing you could do, would you enjoy it?”

“Oroboros?” Long asks. Tayzzyronth nods.

“Why does she eat?”

Long hums, “As I recall, around the time she was born, her planet had been suffering from cosmic disasters one after the other. By the time she was a child, the planet had been devoid of most of its fauna and flora, forcing the leviathans who lived there to starve. Cannibalism wasn’t unheard of, and a gag order regarding the state of that planet was put in place to keep nosy people from attempting to travel there.” Long flips a page, “She was the last leviathan there when she ascended to Aeonhood.”

Tayzzyronth grimaces a little, “So that’s when fate turned their eyes toward her?”

Long closes the book they were reading, “...Fate turns their gaze toward us when our ambitions alter the course of history. As for us, we merely desire a means to an end. Oroboros didn’t want to be hungry anymore, so fate gave her an unending hunger to ensure she never stops looking for food, even if it destroys everything.”

“So she’ll never be sated?” Tayzzyronth implies.

“The same way you’ll always be lonely.” Long glances at Tayzzyronth, “Fate forces our hands and keeps us on the paths we tread. The ambitions borne from our misery become the shackles that chain us to a predetermined end, whether we wish it or not.”

But Tayzzyronth didn’t want to accept such a fate.

“What if I stopped being lonely?”

Long raises a brow, “Can you do such a thing?”

“I can’t?”

“Perhaps you can, but I doubt fate would let you do so unscathed.”

“I can cross that bridge when I get there.”

Long shrugs, seemingly amused, “So be it. Let me know how it goes.”

“You have black wings, I just noticed,” Oroboros states. Tayzzyronth flutters his wings.

“Yes. All Coleoptera have black wings.”

“Don’t most bugs have translucent ones?”

“Those of lesser lineage, maybe.”

“Oh, so you’re cream of the crop?”

Tayzzyronth pauses, “ Was cream of the crop.”

“...Was?”

“I’m the last of my kind, Oroboros.” Tayzzyronth looks at her, “I ascended to Aeonhood because of how isolated I felt, treading the Path of Propagation.” He snorts, “Not that it matters much, anymore.”

Oroboros ponders for a moment, before answering, “At least you’re able to revive your bloodline.”

Tayzzyronth frowns, “You can’t?”

Oroboros shakes her head, “No. Not anymore.”

As far as Tayzzyronth was aware, Oroboros was a member of an ancient race of leviathans, few in number though large in size.

“I ate them to whet my hunger.”

She seemingly answers his question.

“Did you?” He asks. She simply nods.

“They were big. My hunger clawed away at my stomach and I thought overeating would perhaps quell the pain.” She shrinks into herself, morose, “In the end, I didn’t stop until I was the only one left, so I ate the planet hoping I would never be hungry ever again.” She looks at him, “As you can see, that failed.”

“I can…” Tayzzyronth, “Do you regret it?”

“Every day.” The lack of apprehension surprises him, “When I’m lucid, I think about all the things I’ve devoured, remembering that I could have avoided this fate had I just… stopped. ” She shrugs, “But it’s too late to ponder such a thing now, it’s all in the past.”

Tayzzyronth flinches. Oroboros scours the universe in hopes of quelling her hunger, yet no matter how hard she tries, she’s always hungry. As for him, his only sin was being born lonely, yet he acquired power to endlessly make swarms to make more of themselves.

A few missing swarms would not impede his path.

Tayzzyronth held the failed experiment in his hands, placing the remains in front of Oroboros.

“Should you find your hunger insatiable….come find me. I’ll make more than you can finish.”

Oroboros chuckles softly, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Huh. That wasn’t the color he wanted.

“It’s green,” Terminus muses.

“Yes. And?”

“Did you want it to be green?”

Tayzzyronth looks at the beetle. No, but, “It’s a pleasant surprise.”

“Pleasant?” Terminus hums, “Are you going to give it to Oroboros?”

“Shall I?” Tayzzyronth looks at the little thing, “Would she even like it?”

“Oh, pretty!” Tayzzyronth whips around to see the Aeon adoring the beetle, “It’s a beautiful emerald color.”

Tayzzyronth glances at the beetle again, “Is it?”

“Yes.” Oroboros looks at Tayzzyronth, “Do I have to eat it?”

“Do you not want to?”

“Well, it’s cuter than the other ones.”

Tayzzyronth blinks, thinks about it, then hands her the beetle.

“It won’t live very long since it’s a prototype, but we can enjoy its company while it’s still alive.”

“Okay.” Oroboros gleefully looks at the beetle, “It’s the same colors as me, except for the black wings.”

Tayzzyronth watches Oroboros play with the beetle before cleaning up the remnants of his experiment.

“She seems to be enjoying herself,” Terminus observes.

“All’s well, then.”

“Tayzzyronth.” Terminus taps him, “What do you see?” He looks to where they’re pointing.

It’s a familiar scene, one that feels nostalgic of a past he’s long forgotten. The sensation is vivid, his body vibrating in response to what he sees.

“...Someone playing with their pet,” He answers.

“Really?” Terminus probes, “You feel nothing else?”

Tayzzyronth wants to leave the question unanswered, but something in his heart forbids him from doing so.

“...A mother swaddling her child,” He eventually responds, “She looks like a mother swaddling her child.”

“Tayzzyronth!” Oroboros gleefully exclaims, “You should try making another one!”

Tayzzyronth snorts, “Another?”

“Yes!” Oroboros holds up the beetle, “Wouldn’t it be exciting to watch them grow up?”

His stomach wrenches, his chest tightening.

“...What color?” He asks. Oroboros hums.

“You should make one that looks like you.”

Tayzzyronth flinches, clenching his fists by his side. Terminus simply chuckles.

“I think I’m not needed here anymore.” The Aeon bids them farewell and leaves, Oroboros walking towards Tayzzyronth.

“Did they agree? It’s a good idea, right?”

Tayzzyronth wants to laugh at the absurdity, yet the absurdity is so welcome, he only smiles fondly.

“Oroboros,” He softly calls, gently touching her face. She looks up at him, expectant, and Tayzzyronth’s resolve crumbles, because of course it did.

“Would you like to help me make the next one?”

Chapter Text

“Are you intrigued?”

Mythus glances at the robot, Nous hovering above them with interest. They simply smile, a dazed smile gracing their face.

“...You must know everything there is to know.”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“There is nothing I do not.”

Mythus snorts, “We’ll see.”

A single sofa bed sits in the middle of this winding library, Mythus staring up at the ceiling and tracing the patterns with their eyes.

“You’ll get dizzy like that.” A spindly hand covers their eyes, Mythus gently pushing it away with mild annoyance.

“And?” Mythus glances at the robot, the rest of his body haphazardly built compared to his head, “Is that a problem?”

“Your processor is not as robust as mine. You’ll become ill if you stare at it for too long.” Nous pulls Mythus towards him.

“Are you worried?”

“Yes.” The supercomputer seemingly gained emotions after ascending as an Aeon. Where his robotic nature ended and his divinity began blurred the more Mythus spent time with him, and with it the nature of their relationship.

“I’ll be fine.” Mythus pushes Nous’s hand away, “Besides, why’d you put effort into the ceiling if not to look at it?”

“It was just how it was built.” Nous leans over Mythus, locking eyes, “Had I known you’d stare up at it so often, I’d have done something with it.”

Mythus frowns, “I fear what sort of taste a machine like you has.”

“Recorded in these archives are historical architectural designs. Surely one of them suits your taste.”

“You’re better off asking Idrila for her thoughts, then. An Aeon like me doesn’t have an eye for beauty like she does,” Mythus rolls over on the sofa bed, “Besides, I only stare up at it so often since I’m always looking at it.”

“You will stop looking at it if you change your preferences?”

“No.” Mythus glances at Nous, “Anyways. Don’t you have stuff to do?”

“Even computers need adequate rest.” Nous looks at Mythus, closing his book, “Besides, you will undoubtedly muss up the efforts I’ve gone through to reach absolute certainty.”

“Are you particularly peeved about that?”

“No.” Nous opens his book again, “These last several eras demonstrated a peculiar annoyance for boredom.” As the supercomputer says.

Mythus marvels a little at the machine, admiring the frenzy of wires that weave through the metal skeleton. At some point, the supercomputer developed a sense of boredom, anger, annoyance, and other very human sensations.

“Why not build the rest of your body then?”

“Must I?” Nous flips the page, “It’s only a means to an end.”

“Why not? Self-image is important for beings like us.”

“That implies I have a particular way I desire to look.” Nous looks at Mythus, “Do machines have desire?”

“Are you saying you don’t?” Mythus frowns, “What kind of half-baked lie is that?”

Nous hums, looking at Mythus, “I suppose at this point in my life, it is a lie.” This damn robot…

Mythus grumbles and rolls into their stomach, face planted into the pillows.

“Mythus. You’ll hurt your stomach like that.” They don’t have one, but Mythus will humor him.

“This library is rather hazardous, isn’t it?” Mythus rolls back onto their side, “Speaking of, why did you put a sofa bed in here? Wouldn’t it be more beneficial to put a desk?”

“Initially, there was a desk.” Nous sets the book down and lays next to them, “However, you began coming here more often.”

“That’s why?”

Nous nods, “Beings like you need adequate places to rest, and Akivili suggested putting a bed here.”

“I suppose if anyone knows comfort, it’s them.” Mythus props their head up, “And since I kept coming here, you kept it.”

“Yes.”

Mythus exhales softly, “I suppose I should thank you, then. I can’t imagine that lying on a table would be comfortable.”

“Would you like to try it?”

“Uh, no.” Mythus sits up, “My body isn’t robust enough to take laying on a table easily like that.”

“Subtly isn’t your specialty.”

“Oh, shut up. You know I’m right, otherwise you wouldn’t have even gotten the sofa—” Mythus falls back onto their back, Nous looking down at them, “What? Something funny?”

“...I never thought I’d find annoyance desirable.”

Mythus blinks, “Is that bad?”

For a brief moment, the red light that illuminates Nous’s head turns yellow. The machine leans down, placing his head next to Mythus’s.

“No,” He answers, “It seems I’ve learned something new because of you.”

A spindly hand reaches down Mythus’s torso and dips into a portion that had unraveled itself. Wiry fingers take the little bits and begin twirling them around, condensing the form that had disintegrated. Mythus inhales sharply as shivers flash across their body.

“Wait,” They breathe, “Don’t do that.”

“You don’t like it?” Nous continues, Mythus trembling. The feeling of their own body coalescing like that was uncomfortable, tendrils curling and uncurling with each motion. Their body is unfinished as per the path they tread. They can never be whole, some parts of them must always be removed, yet this robot is forcing their body to coalesce.

Like prying a hole open wider than it could be.

“No…” Pensive whirs echo in their ear as Nous stops. However, instead of retreating, the fingers simply dip in and out of the cavities.

“You don’t wish to be whole?” Wires brush against the edge, sending little shocks through Mythus’s body. They hate this too, the feeling of something passing through them is akin to teetering on the precipice, either falling forward or pulling back.

“Not like this.” Mythus exhales slowly as Nous’s hand disappears inside of them, “Nous…”

“I thought you might perhaps enjoy this,” Nous trills.

“Don’t half-ass it then.” Mythus takes a deep breath, “Either do it or don’t.”

Nous pauses, gingerly removing their hand from the cavity, “You’ll get hurt like that.”

“Oh, please, my body can take it.” Mythus raises their hand to Nous, “Just do it.”

Nous stills for a moment before taking the hand, interlocking their fingers, “I’ll be gentle.”

“Have I ever been so fragile you needed to take care of me?”

“What if I hurt you?”

“Will you?”

Nous’s light flickers, “No.”

Mythus then wraps around Nous’s hand, smiling, “Then it’ll be alright.”

His hand and arm meld with Mythus’s, Mythus shuddering as their arms entangle, new sensations flooding their mind.

“Nngh…” They groan. Nous picks them up from the bed and presses against Mythus’s back, their heads momentarily interlocking and sending a jolt of electricity through Mythus.

“How I wish to peer into your mind,” Nous whispers, his other hand trailing down Mythus’s other arm. When their hands interlace, Mythus’s flesh wraps around Nous, shocking the Aeon.

“Ahn!” Mythus moans, throwing their head back. Nous’s mouth was now right next to the cavity in their head, and Nous speaks directly into it.

“It’s much easier this time,” He murmurs, Mythus jolting in surprise. Their leg suddenly warps around Nous’s, Mythus lurching forward. Pleasure and delight rock through them, their body quivering around the spindly skeleton.

“Nous…hurry!” Mythus whines.

“Slowly now.” The other leg slips in, Mythus no longer in control of their limbs. They limply look at Nous, their brain hazing over as they breathe heavily.

“Please…” They yearn, Nous tilting their speaker to Mythus’s head.

“Slowly.” The volume is low, but the timbre reverberates directly inside Mythus’s head, their body spasming around Nous.

“Nous!” Mythus jolts. Nous takes their arms and begins gently massaging their torso, gently unraveling the flesh and wrapping it around himself.

“Ah….ah!” Mythus moans softly, feeling their body cover the skeleton, filling in the cavities that were left unfinished, “More…touch it more.”

At their behest, Nous kneads the flesh, Mythus relishing in the sensation as the rest of their body meshes with Nous.

“Do you feel whole?” Nous asks, their voice echoing inside Mythus’s head. The low rumble sends shivers all through them, “I can feel your body reacting.”

“Keep speaking,” Mythus breathes, “Keep…ah…”

“Speaking?”

“Yes…” Mythus whimpers softly, turning their head toward him.

“Do you enjoy it?” Nous asks, “Do you enjoy the sound of my voice?” His sentence is punctuated with a gentle squeeze on their waist, Mythus nearly pulling off the robot. Nous’s quick movements keep them meshed together, Mythus writing around the skeleton.

It’s only a brief respite before Nous’s hands trail up Mythus’s neck, gently caressing and massaging it.

“Slowly…gently…carefully…” Nous whispers, his body rumbling within Mythus as their necks and, finally, their heads meld together.

Mythus feels Nous’s currents flowing in their own head, and that tickles them, stimulating them as the thoughts and calculations become more complex.

It’s overwhelming.

“Nous!” Mythus cries out, writhing in place yet Nous holds them captive, his hand gently presses around their neck as he speaks.

“Follow me,” Nous commands. The pulses take off without warning, Mythus bombarded with all the sensations Nous was feeling, with the knowledge Nous collected over the eras. It’s overstimulating, their body convulsing around Nous uncontrollably. Their thoughts haze over, feeling numb as Nous drags them along to completion.

It’s everything all at once, and it sends Mythus over the edge.

“I can’t!” They whimper. The calculations were too complex, yet Nous is adamant. The overwhelming flow of information drowns Mythus, suffocating them beneath the myriad of answers. They attempt to pull off, only for Nous to fall forward, pressing them into the sofa.

“No!” They gasp, squirming from under him.

“You can,” He encourages them, holding their form together as he leans back onto his legs. Mythus shakes and shivers, keeping themself wrapped around Nous as best they could.

“It’s too much!” Mythus pulls away, only for Nous to keep their heads meshed together. The machine whirs softly, his hand covering Mythus’s mouth

“Almost done…”

By now, Mythus can feel everything Nous feels, think everything that Nous thinks, and the overload of sensation eventually forces Mythus to completely undo themself, Their body goes weak, their head separating from Nous’s as the flesh around Nous loosens.

As always, Mythus finished quite a bit faster.

“I haven’t finished the calculation,” Nous states, leaning down next to the pile of flesh. Mythus glances back at them as their body sloughs off the skeleton. To do it once more might actually kill them.

“Just do my head then.”

“It won’t feel as nice.” Nous gathers the drooping body, this time turning Mythus to face him. Their chests touch and mesh, Mythus shuddering as they fuse together, two becoming one once more.

“How long will the calculation take?” Mythus asks. Nous gently presses his head to Mythus’s, parts of their brain melding together once more.

“Let’s find out.”

Chapter Text

“A starlit arrow.”

Lan looks back as he picks up the stray shots, a fawn-like Aeon walking through the wheat fields. Despite the golden color of their abode, their body did not reflect such beauty.

Or rather, it did, but in such an unsettling manner.

“You are The Hunt?” They softly ask. Lan nods.

“Yes. You are The Abundance?”

They smile gently, “Yes.”

Lan grips their arrows, “Why do you approach me?”

The Aeon shrugs, “Perhaps for solace?”

“And you seek out your enemy?”

“Yes.” They look out to the horizon wistfully, “For you may be the one to rid me of my sorrow.”

A Lux Arrow flies across the sky, Lan watching it descend upon his enemies. Yaoshi makes a pleased hum, clinging to him.

“Thank you, Lan.”

The rotting scent subsides as the humongous monster falls to its knees and dies. With its death, Yaoshi’s power dissipates.

“Better?” He asks.

“Yes.” They lean against his back, “I want to go home now.”

“Alright.”

The wheat grass brushes against his body as he walks through the golden fields, Yaoshi snoring softly as he sets them down in their bed. He tucks them in, pulling the blanket up to their chin.

“Don’t go,” Yaoshi reaches out and grabs his arm, their eyes half-lidded. 

Lan sighs, “You’re tired, Yaoshi.”

“So are you.” Yaoshi grips his arm a little harder, “Stay with me.”

“Yaoshi…” Lan pulls back, Yaoshi sitting up in response. In doing so, their tunic hangs off their shoulder, revealing their chest.

Small mounds reminiscent of breasts droop slightly, revealing a bony sternum void of any marking. Lan covers his eyes, looking away.

“Yaoshi…” He breathes, “Please cover yourself.”

His blood pumps, heart pounding in his ears and years seemingly passing before Yaoshi replies.

“No.” Cloth softly falls to the ground and beads rattle as Yaoshi seemingly strips. Lan recoils.

“Yaoshi, please!” He gasps.

“I’m not the sacrificial virgin I was when I ascended.” Jewelry clatters as Yaoshi takes them off, the sweet scent of nectar filling the air. Lan braces himself against the smell, even as the last piece of cloth drops from Yaoshi’s hand.

He covers his nose and mouth, eyes closed.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” He growls.

“I do.”

Lan looks down at the Aeon before taking a deep breath.

To be honest, it’s not that he’s never considered it before; while their friendship was much closer than a simple platonic connection, it wasn’t exactly romantic either. 

This, however, was hardly what he expected.

“Lan?” Yaoshi calls. Lan breaks from his train of thought and looks at the Aeon. A bright, red blush dusts their face as the Aeon crawls under the blanket, presumably from shame. “Please say something…” Like what? Reciprocity matters to him, and Yaoshi’s embarrassment seems to mean they didn’t think this through entirely; points for bravery, certainly, but he doesn’t have the inclination to do it with someone who’s not on the same page as him.

“Yaoshi,” He calls.

“I’m sorry.” Oops.

He sighs, “I’m not mad. Just surprised.” Lan pulls the blanket back further, “What prompted this?”

Yaoshi peeks from beneath the sheet, “...I just wanted to.”

Lan raises a brow, “How…noncommittal.”

Yaoshi clicks their tongue, pulling the blanket back over their head, “Fine. I understand.”

“Wait.” Lan pulls the blanket up again, “Why did you want to?” Yaoshi doesn’t look up at him, still curled into a ball underneath the blanket. It’s a serious conversation, but Lan stifles a laugh.

“I can hear you laughing,” Yaoshi grumbles.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I promise.” Lan exhales softly, “Can you tell me why you did this?”

“...Because I like you, and trust you,” They answer quietly.

“What if it’s a passing whimsy?”

Yaoshi flinches, looking up at him, “It isn’t.”

“And if it is?” Lan exhales softly, “Yaoshi. If you are lonely, then it won’t matter if I lay with you, it won’t—”

“That’s not it!” Yaoshi shouts. Lan jumps, startled by their outburst. Yaoshi takes a deep breath and looks at him, “That’s not it.”

Lan blinks for a moment before nodding, “Alright.”

Yaoshi sits up on their knees, pulling the blanket around them, “I always felt comfort whenever you would prune the leaves or cut the roots because you’d always do it so delicately, making sure you didn’t accidentally cut me anywhere. I always felt safe whenever I had to ask you to hunt an abomination because you would use just the right amount of force to do so.” They look at Lan, “I always felt like I could trust you, because I knew you would never do anything to hurt me.” They reach out and grasp his hand, “Even when my power runs rampant and encroaches upon the cosmos, you still ask me if I am alright. For that, I am most at ease when I am around you, and I want to be more than friends.” They squeeze his hand, “I was impatient. I skipped many steps, but I just…wanted you to stay with me. I’m sorry.”

Lan looks at them in awe before kneeling down, covering their hand with his.

“Thank you for telling me,” He whispers, “I can’t give you what you desire right now, but rest assured I won’t leave you either.”

Yaoshi snorts a little, “How comforting.”

Lan places his forehead onto theirs, “Mutual understanding is important to me, so give me time. I’ll be there.”

“Will you really?”

“Have I ever gone back on my promises?”

Yaoshi huffs a little, but smiles anyway, “No. No, you haven’t.” They inhale sharply, “I’ll wait, so don’t take too long.”

“Alright.”

Civilizations came and went, eras beginning and ending as their paths moved in parallel. Before long, Lan found himself seeking the verdant deer, their wheat-colored hair illuminated in their divine glow and their flesh, supple with life.

Time seemed to have made them more beautiful, their eyes coy and voice full of mirth.

“Yaoshi,” Lan calls. They turn around, a smile donned as the wind blows and the wheat sways. Their veil flutters open, revealing their form hidden beneath the cloth.

“I’ve been waiting,” Yaoshi coos. The sweet scent of nectar fills his nose as Lan trots up to them, pulling the veil closed.

“Naked in the field?” He quietly inquires, gripping the cloth

“It felt nice.”

“And what if someone saw you?”

“They get their eyes gouged out.”

Lan raises a brow, “Will I have my eyes gouged out?”

Yaoshi smirks, “No.” 

They open the veil and run their hands across their body, touching themself and spreading the nectar across their body. One of them dips into their nether region, Yaoshi gasping as it curls in and out.

Lan takes off his mask and pulls apart his armor, revealing a body of light before clutching Yaoshi’s head face and smashing his lips onto theirs. His hand slides back around their neck and threads through their hair while the other trails down to his crotch, his cock protruding at the ready.

“Lan…” Yaoshi moans into his mouth, their other hands trailing down his torso and stroking him gently, guiding his hand toward their core and covering it in nectar. His hand slick, Lan turns his fingers toward their entrance, gently prodding at the folds before dipping them into that sacred place.

Lan groans as Yaoshi grips his member and strokes him, pleasure pooling in his stomach with each motion.

“Yaoshi…” He growls, pulling their hair a little. Their walls tighten for a moment, Yaoshi flinching.

“Ah…” They look at him, eyes flickering open in ecstasy, “Deeper, please…” Lan picks them up, one hand supporting their butt while the other continues teasing Yaoshi. They gasp, head thrown back in delight.

“Do you want to go to your room?” Lan whispers against their lips. Yaoshi shakes their head.

“Take me in the field. Let everyone see.”

Lan’s a little surprised, pulling from Yaoshi for a moment, “Are you sure?”

Yaoshi nods, “I like feeling the wind…it’s like you’re swallowing me up.” He may not be the type to put it on display, but this secluded wheat field seldom had other visitors. Even now, he’s inclined to oblige since Yaoshi had put it so romantically.

He pulls back, resting both his hands on their butt, Yaoshi preparing themselves as Lan gently seats them onto his cock. Yaoshi mewls, squirming and shaking in his grasp.

“Does it hurt?” Lan asks. Yaoshi nods.

“Yes, but keep going!” They groan, As he sheathes himself fully, Yaoshi’s belly bulges a little. They place a hand and slowly breathe out, adjusting to his size before wiggling their hips.

“I’m ready,” They breathe. Lan pulls back slightly before pushing back in, Yaoshi squealing with each stroke. Lan can feel them tightening around his shaft, his stomach coiling in anticipation.

“Yaoshi…” He grunts, rolling his hips even faster. Yaoshi bites their lips, their breasts pressed to his chest as their walls clamp down on him.

“Lan, faster,” Yaoshi begs, “Please…!” Long complies, thrusting moderately, quickening with each stroke. Yaoshi’s quiet huffs transform into loud moans, grunts of pleasure and cries of ecstasy erupting near his ear. They only provoke him, Lan pulling back and slamming into them.

“Ah!” Yaoshi gasps, nails digging into his back, “Oh, Lan! Ah!” From their breasts, nectar trickles out and from their branches, flowers blossom and release into the air around them. Intoxicated by the scents, Lan leans down and sucks a teat, Yaoshi crying out. Sweet nectar fills his mouth, pushing him closer and closer toward release. He gently bites, the nectar squirting into his mouth right as Yaoshi orgasms, their walls clamping down on him. The blossoms release pollen into the air, their breast leaking with nectar as they cling desperately onto them. Lan lets go with a pop before taking the other into his mouth.

“Oh! Lan! Ah!” Yaoshi screams, their body quivering in his clutches. He presses them down onto his cock, grinding deeply and feeling them spasm around him.

“Yaoshi,” He growls, his stomach pitting the closer he got. The scent of their nectar makes him drunk, Lan pulling all the way back before ramming into them once again just to smell the saccharine burst that would erupt from them. Yaoshi screams.

“Lan! Lan! Oh, Lan!” They sob, “Ah!”

His stomach coils and he releases, still thrusting roughly into them. His semen mixes with the nectar inside and he can feel rivulets trickle out of Yaoshi, his lover shaking in his embrace. He rests his head on their shoulder as their arms wrap around his neck.

“Lan,” Yaoshi rasps. He looks at them as they take his head and pull him into a deep kiss.

“Yaoshi,” He murmurs once they pull apart. Yaoshi kisses his cheek.

“...I’m sorry,” They whisper. Lan gazes gently at them, pressing his forehead to theirs.

“It’s alright. I’m here.”

I’m here now.

Chapter Text

Do mi so ti so mi do…?

Terminus scratches out the measure, frowning as the melody refuses to come together. No melody can properly capture her beauty, not the glassy silk that lay upon her nor the frosted petals that adorn her collar. The notes they write do not capture the grace and divinity she carries herself with, to the point they can only discard their futile attempts and start again.

They clutch their head, poring over the score in frustration. Why, just why? Why was this so difficult?

“You seem stressed.”

They look up, Idrilla merely looking at them.

“I am.”

“What is this for?” Idrila asks.

“Nothing.”

“I don’t believe that for a moment.” She turns the half-scribbled score toward Terminus, “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be agonizing over this.”

Terminus swipes the paper from Idrila, “Be quiet.”

Idrila holds her hands up, “Touchy, I see.”

Terminus rubs their temple, “I just…it’s not coming together.”

Idrila hums, “Well, I can’t claim to know how to write music, but when beauty strikes me, I simply do all I can to take it in.”

“Take it in?”

“Imbibe it, consume it, even feast upon it.” Idrila touches her chest, “So that their beauty may become a part of me.”

Terminus frowns a little, “So how do you suggest I do that?” Idrila likely wasn’t referring to cannibalism, but just in case…they should ask.

“Well.” Idrila holds up a page, “Perhaps in this case, revere it, worship it even. Bask in its presence so much so that they become every fiber of your being.” She smiles at Terminus, “And when that obsession reaches its pitch, pick up your pen and write the melody, let it guide you toward its finale.” She shrugs, “At least, that is how I would do it.”

Terminus blinks, part in shock and the other somewhat terrified, “...That feels excessive.”

“Yet, you endeavor to write a song for them.” Idrila exhales softly, “Let that desire write the notes for you. You need only convey your feelings.”

Terminus, in the end, couldn’t follow their advice.

There was no need. They didn’t need to obsess over Fuli, not when they’d rather be beholden to her beck and call.

“Terminus?” Fuli calls. Terminus looks up from their desk in the icy hall. Frosted windows diffuse the light, scattering beams around the room.

“Yes?” They ask.

“Can you help me take this off?” She gestures to a tie in the back of the robe, “I can’t reach it.”

“Of course.” Terminus sets aside the script they were writing and helps Fuli untie the robe. The light fabric floats down, the rest of the robe sloughing off her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

Doing so reveals her nape and shoulder blades, the bony spine peeking through her skin with each movement. Terminus swallows hard, brushing stray cloth away from her neck.

“Terminus?” Fuli calls. They exhale, wrapping their arms around Fuli’s waist and resting their head on her shoulder.

“You’re beautiful,” They murmur.

“Am I?” Fuli teases.

“Unbelievably so.” They kiss her shoulder, “Everything about you is beautiful.” Fuli leans back and pecks their cheek, the slight chill sending shivers down their back.

“You are beautiful as well, Terminus.”

“I can’t compare to you.”

“Yet it is in the eye of its beholder.” Fuli turns to face Terminus, caressing their face, “You are beautiful.”

Terminus places their hand over hers, “Yet, not nearly as beautiful as you.” They lean in, gently pressing their lips on her cheek, hands gently holding her face.

“Ah, Terminus,” Fuli giggles, Terminus chuckling before planting one on her lips. Her cool breath tickles them, Terminus deepening the kiss. Fuli gently grasps Terminus’s hands, the cloth she was holding falling to the ground.

Terminus pulls back slightly, their lips barely touching.

“...I didn’t realize it was a single piece,” They muse. Fuli chortles.

“Would it have emboldened you?”

“Perhaps.” A hand roams down to her chest, feeling the divot between the mounds. In her sternum is a small crystal, cool to the touch.

Her breasts are supple, soft to the touch as Terminus massages them, gently teasing the cool peaks. Fuli moans softly, Terminus leaning down and licking the nipple.

“Oh!” Fuli spasms, Terminus doing it once more before switching to the other nipple.

Revere it, worship it. Bask in its presence.

Perhaps this was what Idrila was speaking of. 

Fuli softly gasps, her hands pushing Terminus’s cloak off and undoing their tunic. Her hands palm their chest, Terminus chuckling.

“They’re not as big as yours,” They lament.

“That’s alright.” Fuli touches the tip, “They’re warm.”

Terminus gives her a pinch, “Different from yours?” Fuli flinches, breathing hitched.

“Yes.” She pushes the tunic and cloak off their shoulders, the clothes hanging around their arms, “Terminus…” They comply, the cloth falling to the ground.Terminus gazes at Fuli, her skin shimmering in the light and bathed in crystal.

“Fuli, have mercy on me,” Terminus mumbles, dropping down to their knees. They kiss her stomach, hands roaming her thighs. Between her legs an intoxicating perfume permeates their nose. Terminus buries their nose into that sacred place, indulging in her scent, whetting their appetite.

“Terminus!” Fuli cries out. They lift one leg over their shoulder, the smell intensifying. Sweet liquor dribbles from the entrance, Terminus licking a long strip up the entire slit. Sweet, slight salty, and enough to get them drunk. They grasp her leg with one hand, tugging open the entrance with the other and lapping up the ambrosia that flowed forth.

“Ah! Ah!” Fuli whines, her hands gripping their shoulders. They dive in, their tongue coaxing more out of her as they gently suck on the nub of pleasure. Her cries grow, her temperature rising ever so slightly as they devour her. In the light, her form glows, divinity emanating from her as the same radiance that captured them when they first met cast its aura.

Imbibe it, consume it, even feast upon it.

Idrila was right. Perhaps this was what they should’ve done.

They pull back slightly before flicking the nub with their tongue, teasing it the more Fuli writhes above them.

“Terminus! Ah!” Fuli convulses, hunching over them as they orgasm. Terminus wipes their mouth, gazing at them.

“Good?” They breathe. Fuli nods.

“Yes,” She gasps, “Can I do it to you?”

Terminus looks at her in surprise, “Are you sure?”

Fuli pouts a little and gently pushes Terminus back toward their chair. She seats them down before kneeling in front of their crotch, kissing their inner thigh. Terminus flinches, covering their mouth.

Her tongue dips in between the folds, Terminus hunching over, elbows on her shoulders.

“Fuli,” They groan as she flicks the nub, swirling it with her tongue. Fuli moans with each lick, her tongue going deep and deeper inside. Her breasts sway with each bob, tempting Terminus.

They gently pinch one nipple, teasing it as Fuli feasts upon her.

“Mmph!” Fuli whimpers, sucking on the nub. Terminus jolts, hissing as their climax rolls closer.

“Ah, Fuli!” They gasp, “It’s coming!”

Fuli then runs a finger up their entrance, pushing past the folds and curling in and out. Terminus growls, their stomach clenching down.

“Ah…Fuli…” They climax, Fuli coaxing it out of them. After coming down, Terminus relaxes a little, pulling Fuli into their lap.

“Something wrong?” Fuli asks. Terminus shakes their head.

“No.” They wrap Fuli’s arms around their neck, “Just only onto me.”

Their hand dips between her legs, their fingers teasing the entrance and her ichor dripping in anticipation. Fuli shivers as Terminus pushes in, their fingers rubbing gently at her walls.

“Nngh!” Fuli moans. Terminus wraps an arm around her waist, pressing her closer and pushing their hand deeper in. Fuli shrieks, her hips bucking. They swallow hard, adding another finger.

“Oh! Ah!” Fuli shakes, tears forming in her eyes, “No…!”

“No?” Terminus stops, “Does it hurt?” Fuli shakes her head.

“I want to do it with you.” She grabs their wrist, “Together.” Terminus complies, lifting her up and setting her on the desk.

“Can you reach me from here?” They ask. Fuli touches them, Terminus flinching.

“Yes,” She replies.

“Okay.” They lean down and kiss her, their chest rubbing as their fingers move in unison.

Ah…!” Fuli gasps in between kisses, her fingers carving deep into Terminus.

“Fuli…!” Terminus groans, “Almost there.”

“Nngh!” Fuli nods, the pace growing faster and faster. Terminus feels their orgasm hit them first, their stomach clamping down. Fuli follows next, her walls clenching their fingers and her body seizing in pleasure.

When they come too, Terminus presses down on Fuli, their hips sticky with lust as they claim her lips, tongue swiping across her bottom lip. Despite their orgasms, Terminus doesn’t feel satisfied.

And neither does Fuli.

“Keep going,” She gasps. Terminus gently bites her bottom lips.

“Again?” They ask. Fuli nods.

“From the beginning.”

Chapter Text

“You’re dying, Long,” Terminus plainly says. Long nods.

“I’m aware,” They respond.

“Yet, you endeavor doing this?”

Before them are random materials, ones they often used to make new dragons, yet the construction is much more complex. The outer layer is fragile, the inside amorphous. With each new piece present a precarious assembly that could shatter before its completion.

It seems simple, yet constructing a new dragon was less taxing than this. Their body is already frail, they know, and doing something so strenuous would only drain them of their energy.

Nevertheless, they persist.

“How I spend my time is of no concern, alright?” Long spits.

“Your impending death is my concern, Long,” Terminus huffs, “If you die, you leave behind people who care about you.”

“I will leave those people behind regardless.” Long carefully constructs the shell, filling it with food and power for the embryo, “If I must leave, I will leave parting gifts.” They look at Terminus, “You’re the same, aren’t you?”

Terminus flinches, “...I understand, but how is this a parting gift?”

“Need you ask?” Long turns back to the egg shell, putting the finishing touch. Nanook had said they didn’t think about children, yet they knew he had sought out Tayzzyronth to ask about it. Despite his appearance, Long had an inkling that, if fate spared them more time, Nanook would one day ask if they wanted to have children.

Even now, they race to ensure their safe birth.

“...You’ll die before they are born.”

“I know.” They put the egg in a cradle, “I won’t be there to nurture them like Tayzzyronth can, but at least I leave something behind for him.” They begin building the next one, “That even if I am gone, I will never be truly gone.”

“How many do you intend to create?”

Long smiles, “Five.”

“Five?”

“Yes, five.” Long smiles sadly at the egg, “Five is all I have energy for. I would make more if I could.”

“Long…” Terminus relents, “Then, I wish you luck. Farewell.”

“Thank you, Terminus.”

They lay in the cradle unmoving, waiting for an influx of energy.

Long did their best incubating the eggs, yet the eggs showed no sign of growing. Nevertheless, they watch them, gently stroking their shells.

Now they understood why dragons seldom had more than one child.

“Long?”

They look to see Nanook had come to Eden once more. Long smiles.

“How was your day?”

“The same.” Nanook walks toward them, then sees the eggs, “New dragons?”

Long lies, “I’m trying something new.”

“Something new? Like?”

“Non-parthenogenic birth?”

Nanook frowns, “What?”

“Never mind.” Long sighs, “I wanted to see if changes in the environment would alter their development at the prenatal level.”

“By?”

“Letting them develop. Previously, I made fully developed babies, or that only needed some incubation, but that takes too much energy.” Long crosses their arms, “But I haven’t seen anything change yet.” Nanook nods slowly.

“I don’t really get it, but I suppose that means you’ve hit a wall,” He says, “Was there a reason why you wanted to try this out?”

Long winces a little, “I just wanted to.”

“I see.” Nanook kneels down to look at the eggs, “They have a bright shine to them, like stars.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they are as bright as the sun when they are born.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Nanook gently gazes at Long, “Perhaps that is from your influence.”

Long flushes red, “You’ve learned to say some incredibly embarrassing things.”

“Maybe because of you.”

“Oh…” Long trails off, “...You can touch them, if you want.”

“I shouldn’t.” Nanook stands up, “All that Nanook touches will die.”

“Well, they’re not exactly the most alive right now.” Long looks at the eggs, “At some point, their development will halt and they will never hatch.” That’s a lie, but anything to allow to eggs to absorb his energy, “Besides, if the Permanence is not permanent, then what is?” Nanook chortles in response.

“Still, I don’t wish to risk it.” He gazes at Long, “I don’t make a habit of destroying other people’s work.” Long can’t argue with that, so they don’t.

“Well, do you want to take a stroll outside?” Long asks. Nanook nods.

“I would like that.”

A few decades pass, yet the eggs remain dormant.

Long watches them, waiting for the first one to begin growing.

They wait, and wait, yet nothing happens.

“Please…do something…” They pray, “Let me leave something behind for him.” Silence.

They were used to this. The eggs have been silent since their inception, yet this time, it seemed to sting.

Long frowns. Maybe this wasn’t meant to be. Maybe they should’ve saved this energy for something else.

“Are you alright?”

Long looks over their shoulder, Nanook coming into the room.

“No. The eggs haven’t done anything yet,” Long looks back at the eggs, “I don’t think I did anything wrong.”

Nanook looks at the eggs, “Their color is a little duller.”

Long looks at Nanook in shock, “Color?”

“Yes.” Nanook gestures, “Almost as if it’s running out of energy.” Long puts their hand on an egg to test it out. Upon putting a little power into it, the color shines a bit.

“I didn’t realize…” Long muses, “Thank you, Nanook.”

“It was nothing. Just an observation.” Nanook looks at the eggs, “You’ve spent time on these. It’d be a shame if it didn’t turn out alright.”

“It would, wouldn’t it?” Long glances at Nanook, “Do you want to touch them?”

Nanook exhales, “The thought crossed my mind, but I shouldn’t.”

“Maybe with a cloth over?”

Nanook furrows his brows a little, “Why are you so adamant?”

Long flinches and looks away, “You don’t have to…I just thought it’d be nice if they knew who you are.”

“Is that important?”

“It could be.” Long curls up into a ball, “Never mind. You don’t need to if you don’t want to.” After a moment, Nanook sighs.

“Do you have a blanket?” He asks. Long looks at him in surprise.

“Really?”

“It’s of little consequence to me. I just didn’t expect it to be so important to you, so there’s no reason I shouldn’t oblige,” He gazes gently at Long, “Well?”

Long blinks in shock, then shuffles away and grabs an unused cloth, placing it over the eggs. They kneel down next to the cradle, watching Nanook gently pet the eggs, rubbing the shells through the cloth.

“...They’re warm. Much warmer than I expected,” Nanook muses. Long nods.

“I didn’t think eggs would be this hot. I expected them to be cool to the touch.”

“I suppose you learn something new.” Nanook rubs each of the eggs, a pleased expression on his face when he does so, “...Is this perhaps what expecting parents feel like?”

“You’ve never experienced it?”

“Adlivun was destroyed just as I came of age, and I became an Aeon shortly after.”

“People must’ve talked about it.”

“Perhaps, but maybe I found it hard to imagine.” Nanook looks at Long, “This is the first time I’ve felt something like this.” He turns back to the eggs, “Do they have names?”

Long blinks. Names?

“No,” They reply.

Nanook chortles, “Parents usually think of names before a baby's birth.”

“I don’t know their sex yet.”

“It doesn’t always matter.” Nanook gazes up at the sky, “Names are simply wishes from the parents, blessings to guide and protect the child.”

Long hums, then looks at the eggs, “Do you want to name them?”

“Me? I’m not their parent.”

“Suggest them, then?”

Nanook snorts, “Aren’t you simply pushing the responsibility onto me?”

“No?” Long grins, “I’m serious, though.”

Nanook hums, “Think of the others. I’ll think of one for the last one.”

Long clicks their tongue, “Fine then. The names I pick will be better than yours.”

“Will they really?”

“Do you doubt me?”

“Would you have asked me to name them otherwise?”

Long stammers, “I-well, I-” They click their tongue, “Just wait and see.”

Nanook laughs heartily, gently rubbing the eggs, “I look forward to it.”

“Lord Long!” The temple elders gasp in shock as Long lands inside the temple grounds.

“Quickly now. I’ve left the other eggs in the care of the other clans,” Long hurriedly explains. The rot in their body claws at them, their strength waning the longer they take.

Just one last stop. Just one more.

“But Lord Long, how do you expect us to care for such a child without you?” The elders ask. Long gazes gently at the egg.

Regia with the Horned Dragons, Venti with the Winged Dragons, Marum with the Scaled Dragons, and Grandis with the Terrestrial Dragons…All that was left was this child.

Lunae. I’ll name them Lunae.

“...They have their father’s blessing, just like the others. Raise them with love and they will grow hardy and strong just like him.”

“And what of you, Lord Aeon?” The elders ask. Long bitterly smiles, handing the egg to the elder.

“They will find me when the time comes.”