Euterpe

A dragon reflects on his past.

The world was in its death throes. Its ground lay blackened and marked with patches of luminous green slime, making it appear as though the land itself was bleeding. The skies too reflected the land’s corruption, being little more than a grey void scarred with numerous open wounds of acid and brimstone.

In this realm, nothing remained but two entities. A dragon, whose scales had rendered him immune to the unfolding corruption, and a pink-haired lady whose bosom and crotch were covered in black feathers. Despite being the entities remaining, their backs were turned to each other, never speaking, never fighting.

At times, the dragon would wonder how such a fragile being could survive in this lifeless world. Looking at her slender frame, he knew that he could easily crush her between with his claws. Yet, something held him back, restraining him from violence. He could not truly understand why, but perhaps he knew that it was pointless, for her death, or his, would accomplish little.

Still, he would take opportunities to steal a glance at his female counterpart. Intrigued he was by her song, for the celerity and sorrow in her voice made him reflect on the past. While aware that the past was a time lost beyond reach, reminiscence was still a bittersweet embrace he craved.

“Blooming wildflower, please tell me somehow, why do people fight and hurt each other?”

Once, he was an ordinary dragon, one of many who vied for dominance of the skies. Not wanting to perish like his lesser brethren, he looked for ways to preserve his supremacy. While many of his kin found strength in their claws and magic, his strength lay in his power over the dead.

These terrible powers were a gift from cavorting with eldritch lords from the Outer Spheres. Such beings were seen by his kind with fear and revulsion. However, he knew better, being able to look past the apprehensions of his kind to see the potential they offered. In exchange for being the vanguard of their invasion, he was granted dark powers beyond his imagination.

Looking back, it was not foresight, but blind greed that led him upon this path. Then again, perhaps he knew of what was to come, and acted accordingly. Ultimately, the truth of the matter was still an enigma to him, even till now.

“Oh, blooming wildflower in the asphalt, why is it that people can’t forgive each other?”

He remembered the invasion, where hordes of demons spilled out from the ground like maggots from a rotting corpse. His brethren were caught unprepared, preoccupied with their struggle for dominance amongst themselves, their petty squabbles blinding them from the threat at hand.

Numerous battles followed; each one bloodier than the last as the dragons rallied themselves to defend their home. However, the one that remained fresh in his memory was the final battle. There, the demonic hordes, a legion of screaming fiends, clashed with his former kin head on, finally united as one in the face of extinction.

Sadly, it was too late. But then again, was it ever possible to stem the tide of death? It was something that kept him brooding and contemplating, even in this doomed world.

“What do you think, when your friends wilt? With leaves that do not convey words, how will you convey your love?”

It was at that moment that he realised the foolishness of his betrayal, having seen the motivations of his masters firsthand. They were not here to conquer, but destroy, judging from the demons’ campaign to take no prisoners and set everything to the flame.

He wanted to leave them, and rejoin his brethren for one final, glorious stand against extermination. However, it was too late for him, for he had grown reliant on his eldritch masters’ for existence. Now, he required their energy to sustain a corporeal form. Such was his fate, the fate of one of the unliving, a wraith tethered to the world to serve his masters’ will. 

The change was most apparent in his physical form, similar in how it had scarred his soul. His once red scales now festered with decay, transforming them to a sickly purple taint.

Looking upon himself, he could do naught but curse his fate. Yet, in his heart of hearts, he knew this to be the outcome of his choices, greed’s due for his selfishness. Now a pariah amongst his kin, he had little choice but to finish their extermination. After all, he knew that betrayal would be met by a fate worse than death.

The final battle was nothing short of gruesome. His former kin had fought with the desperate fury of cornered rats, all of them using the full extent of their might and magic. Sadly, they were no match for the innumerable hordes of demons, who slaughtered them mercilessly like cattle while ripping the scales from their flesh to create dreadful battle standards and gruesome trophies.

At the behest of his lords, he partook in the slaughter, bringing the full might of his necromantic powers to bear upon his former brethren. Through sheer force of will, he ripped the souls from their scales and raised the fallen, both demon and dragon, to fight once more.

“The sun is now clouded and the wind flutters. I shall sing, the proof that life once existed.”

Only after the dust had settled did he know the full extent of his actions. The seed of demonic corruption had been sown in his world, tainting it forever. The land now burned with the flames of hell itself, reducing the gleaming crystal spires and pristine forests of his world into rubble and ash. In its place, a desolate land that was black with decay remained; a cruel mockery of the paradise it once was.

Resigned to his fate, he wanted to leave alongside his masters and lay waste to new worlds, like how he had destroyed his. However, they refused, commanding him to an eternal vigil in their stead. Condemned to watch the result of his betrayal for all eternity, he took to his duties alone, until he met her, and her song.

Perhaps, she was but a fragment of his conscience, eulogising the death of the world he was once a part of. At times, he thought her to be the soul of the world itself, breathing its last breaths in the form of a song as it succumbed to corruption and decay. Either way, her singing soothed him, and now, that was all he ever wanted.

“I shall sing, for those who do not have a name.”

Sadly, her song would always come to an end, and in its place a maddening silence would take root in his mind. And now that he had heard her voice, the feeling was as though his flesh was being torn into a million pieces.

However, he could bear it no longer. Her voice was like a panacea to his cursed soul, and her silence sundered it. Roaring in agony, he cursed his existence and the lady’s silence in equal measure.

Much to his surprise, the lady turned around for the first time, staring at him with large, ruby red eyes. Her gaze was unerring, and her face was wracked with a sorrow that words could not do justice.

And there she stood, before the dragon, like a lamb before a lion. Yet, she did not fear. Perhaps, she could not fear. It was almost as though her face was a mirror reflecting the full extent of his sins.

After what seemed to be an eternity of awkward silence, he opened his maw to speak. His words were slow and deep, yet carried a clarity unheard of since his damnation centuries ago.

“Would you sing for me, a pitiful, nameless soul?”

Author's Note

Hi!

Do let me know what you think! If you've enjoyed this story, do check out my book on the Amazon Kindle Store, The Best of Aurafiex - A Short Story Collection.

Buy it now at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01GX7EVLC

Have a nice day!

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Reviews

[Krizito]

Didn't get to see the previous one, but it matters little...I like this one.
The creation of fantasy, the arsenal of words, the emotions it conveys, the imagery it paints...I want to write short stories as good as this. This was superb-absolutely..:)

[Obscured by the Shadows]

In this dead world, nothing remained but two entities. The dragon, whose scales had rendered him immune to the corrosion that ate away at the land and a pink-haired lady whose bosom and crotch were covered in black feathers, whose back was always turned to the former. - One small tiny error, say "A dragon," instead of "The dragon."

She would always sing the same song in his presence, once a day. It was a sincere, yet sad song which made him reflect on the past. - why did it make him do so? Did it remind him of something that once was? Did he know her before the destruction of the planet?

He was once an ordinary dragon, one the many who vied for dominance of the skies. Not wanting to perish like many of his lesser brethren, he searched for the means to give him an edge. While many of his kin found strength in their claws and magic, his strength lay in his power over the dead. - "One that many envied for his dominance of the skies?" Perhaps that might stand better. Also, I am excited! The plot thickens...

He remembered the invasion, where hordes of demons spilled out from the ground like maggots from a rotting corpse. The dragons were caught unprepared, preoccupied with their struggle for dominance amongst themselves, and the demons caught them like lambs to the slaughter. - "Butchered them like lambs at slaughter?" That might go a bit better instead of saying "caught" twice.

By then, he had become like one of the abominations he and his brethren abhorred. The undead were seen by his kind as an insult to the sanctity of life itself, to be purged in righteous fire. However, prolonged exposure to necromancy had placed him firmly in the realm of undeath, his once red scales now festered with decay, transforming them to a sickly purple taint. - "The land of the undead," that would sound better. And interesting...... interesting indeed.

The battle itself was nothing short of gruesome. The dragons had fought with the desperate fury of cornered rats, yet they were no match for the innumerable demon hordes, who slaughtered them mercilessly, tearing the scales from their flesh as though they were made of flimsy cloth. He too, partook in the slaughter, bringing the full might of his necromantic powers to bear upon his former brethren as he ripped the souls from their bodies and raised the fallen, both demon and dragon to fight once more. - Perhaps you might compare the dragons to a cornered tiger and the demons to innumerable rats that came without abandon? Just a better thought, since the dragons are far more than just rats.

Only after the dust had settled did he realise the true price of his actions. The seed of demonic corruption had been sown, the land seared with the flames of hell itself, which laid waste to the gleaming crystal spires and pristine forests, turning them indiscriminately into a pile of ash. What remained was a desolate land that was black with decay and little more than a bleak wasteland, an insult to the paradise it had once been. Ironically, it would be his grave, just like how he had made it so for his former kin. - "Just as" instead of "Just like." :D

The dragon’s reverie was abruptly broken by the end of her song. It was like that every time without fail, and it was always unbearable. The feeling was like as though his very being was being torn into a million pieces. - "The dragon's reverie was abruptly broken by the end of her song, just as it was every other time; without fail, and each time was just as unbearable as the last, giving him the feeling of being torn into a million pieces." Maybe that might work better? A little more rephrasing perhaps.

However this time, he could take it no longer. Her voice was like a panacea to his cursed soul, and her silence sundered it. He roared in agony, for the silence was now too much to bear. - ""However, this time he couldn't take it any longer."

Much to his surprise, the lady turned around and stared at him with large, ruby red eyes. Her gaze was unerring and her face was wracked with a sorrow that words could not do justice. It felt as though she was gazing into his soul with those eyes of hers. - Is that the first time she has ever looked at him? You should mention that.

I absolutely loved this story, the imagery, the word choice, the emotions you were able to evoke.. so powerful. I am definitely adding this to my favorites. It is a work to behold. You, my dear, have great talent that needs to be spread. Excellence is rare these days, but this is exactly that. Full ratings from me.

[Aurafiex]

Hey! Thanks for the detailed review, and sorry for the late reply.

I'll probably edit it when I have the time. But for now I'm working on something else (as well as playing WoW). Just know that I read every word of every review, and that I really appreciate your feedback! Thanks.

[Obscured by the Shadows]

You're welcome c: Heck, I'd play WoW as well, if I had money xD

[Aurafiex]

I think 15 USD is pretty affordable. Not to mention that you can buy game time with in-game gold as well.

[Obscured by the Shadows]

Really? I haven't played in so long, I didn't know that.

[Jacob Clifford]

I quite like this story. Thank you for your submissions to the short story contest.

[Solar]

The story paints a sympathetic picture of the dragon, so he is not made out to be just evil. The ruby-eyed woman provides the mysterious counterbalance, and with descriptions of the battle it works well as a chapter in a story.

[Amber Lily]

I really enjoyed this story! You do have a talent for telling a good tale. I could feel the dragons sorrow for his decisions and how empty and dead the world must be. Lady and beast, the last two. There is no telling what will come after them, if anything at all. Great work :)

[TheMalady]

I must say that the first one was more dramatic and tragic compared to this one. When I first read the previous work, it contained the feeling of abandonment and emptiness. Well, this is just my own opinion. :)

[Aurafiex]

Ahh, but what about this one?

[TheMalady]

This is one is good, however for me, I was really touched by the words of your first work. If I differentiate it, you still maintained the meaning and the story, however the very feelings were changed. :)