FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Memoirs of Dragora

Chapter 8: The revival

Slypnir found himself on a dark path in a forest, a ray light light shooting through the canopy of leaves onto his face. He got up, dusting himself off and looked around to gather his bearings. After examining the path and the trees, he realized he was in the forest surrounding Aerinia, but the answer to the question of how he got there was eluding him, leading to him just giving up on finding out and following the trail in one of the four directions the path split off into. He wondered forth, and eventually saw the life fade away from around him into a charred field of dead trees and shrubbery. He pushed on, despite the fell wind whipping against him, as if the air itself was trying to escape this place. After following the road a while longer , he saw a lone figure on the side of the road, hunched over and looked like it was weeping. He drew closer cautiously, eying the figure the whole time. When he was within reach of the shape, he grabbed it's shoulder comfortingly and crouched down to get a better look at who it was. The animal looked up at him, startled by the contact. Slypnir saw it was an albino wolf child, with snow white fur and pale, piercing eyes.

"What happened here?" Slypnir asked gently to the child, who was obviously frightened of the lizard, drawing back in awe at how tall he was.

"A slaughter... of all life that was in the area. Not a weed, flower, or soul escaped... There wasn't even a chance to say goodbye," The now orphaned wolf cried, taking another look at the wasteland where his home once was.

"It'll be alright, I now of a place that should be near here. The caretakers there are wonderful people, and they'll know how to raise you up into a fine person. Come let us take our leave of this ill place..." Slypnir motioned to the wolf, holding out his hand affectionately.

"Just...just give me a moment," the minor said, picking up a stick and carving three words into the ground.

Slypnir looked over his shoulder and saw that the words were names and they read; Refta, Herfrund, and Nij, who Slypnir assumed to be the kid's family. The wolf drove the stick into the ground and turned to grab Slypnir's extended hand, but when he did, the child faded before Slypnir's eyes and everything around him started speeding up and becoming blurry. When it slowed down, he found himself in a new forest, and saw a grand wolf with a great mane come through the trees toward the elegantly and elaborately carved stones, where he laid roses as white as his fur upon each of them. The wolf turned suddenly, startled by Slypnir's presence, but relaxed and ran over to him, hugging him.

"Thank you for giving me a chance to move past my grievance and live my life," the wolf whispered to him. "I wouldn't have been able to do this without you..."

Slypnir suddenly woke up to the sight of the embers of the fire losing their glow in the wisps of snow surrounding their small camp.

"What an odd dream, it felt so real..." He said to himself, getting up and going over to wake Zerion, who was shifting rather often in his sleep.

Zerion shot up, coming out of a nightmare and screaming "no" into the chilly breezes of the tundra.

Slypnir jumped back in fright of the sudden move and fell backwards, breaking his fall with his hands and tail.

"What was that all about?" Slypnir questioned, getting up again.

"N-Nothing, nothing at all, let's just get packed up and move." Zerion replied uncomfortably, jumping up and lifting Dragora into the caravan..

"Okay, if you say so..." Slypnir responded, packing the other stuff into the back along the sides of the caravan and hopped up into the driver's seat, getting the manticores to start pulling.

They proceeded deep into the hard land and harsh gusts of wind and snow, eventually coming to a great stone structure which led downward into the depths of the earth below them. Slypnir pulled out a blank parchment and began drawing the forks and intersections of the twisting halls, making sure he could keep track of where he was. As he reached a very darkly lit room, he drove the caravan inside, torches being lit by an unseen force all around him, funneling the light toward a small staircase in which he helped Zerion out to carry Dragora downward into the iniquity. At the end of the staircase was a long, narrow hall with a dot of light at the end. The followed it, seeing no other place to go, and they proceeded in silence for fear of waking up anything undesirable in the burrows of delicately carved antique stone that surrounded them. As they reached what seemed halfway down the tunnel, they looked behind them to see the torch light growing and catching up, and a moment later passing them by, without so much as a halt of embers floating by, kindling the petrified wood as it passed by. They walked in a normal pace now, sure of their footing and approaching the light with the steady acoustic echoes and reverberations of the walls around them beating in their hearts. They reached the light, but it was no opening. All they saw was darkness as the torches behind them extinguished save for the pair that was attached to the platform itself, sporting a small glowing orb to which Slypnir touched curiously and instinctively, as if drawn to it. They pair suddenly felt a jolt and marveled at the grandeur of the sight they held before their very eyes.

They looked all around themselves as they were descending, seeing the vast circular chasm they were in the center of, with the walls being decorated with a grand walkway encircling them being lit by countless torches, and seeing the occasional shadow flicker down the path as they descended deeper and deeper, delving into the oblivion of darkness below them. Finally the walkway on the sides of the under-tower closed in, creating a grand plaza in the center where they elevator came to a rest.

"This place... it's remarkable! This has to be the ancient kingdom of the first draconians, the kingdom of Dawn... I never thought I would lay my eyes on these sacred stones, and these runes must the ancient language, this one reads 'main plaza'," Slypnir said giddily, looking all around him in excitement and eagerness, finding a layout of the grand city carved into a large faced pedestal. "Here it is, the sage would be... that way." He finished, pointing off toward the walkway going up. When they stepped off the pedestal, the torches lit up all around them and they saw the kingdom came to life.

The spirits of the ancients appeared on the roads, in the plaza, all seeming to go about their daily lives, not a single one noticing the pair of smaller draconians, for they were dwarfed to the grand size of the average spirit, looking like mere children in the midst of the town. Slypnir continued to walk up the grand paseo swirling along the sides Zerion following close behind carrying Dragora in his arms strongly, embracing the physical structure close to him. They came to a break in the path, or what seemed to be, but as Slypnir continued to walk forward, shocking Zerion, a transparent path appeared with a bright blue flash as Slypnir continued walking unfazed. Zerion continued following, tapping his foot on the magic path before putting all his weight on it. Finally, after a ways up, Slypnir made a turn into a small abode, and Zerion followed inside with Dragora. The spirit inside came out of the room to the left, greeting them and motioning them inside. The apparition pointed to the table in the back room, speaking in a tongue completely foreign to Zerion.

"He said to set him down face-up on the table." Slypnir translated, having studied the language for 3 years.

"Alright," Zerion replied, nodding to the figure. "What is he going to do to him?" Zerion asked Slypnir, who translated the question to the ghost.

"He's going to find his soul wandering on the Twilight Fields and help him back." Slypnir interpreted to Zerion, who was setting Dragora down gently.

Dragaora woke up in Midnight's bed, looking around at the change of scenery, with red drapes covering the sill of the window and set his padded feet on the softwood floor, to which he felt great relief, instead hard soles and stone. Midnight came in watching Dragora walk around on the floor, amused at the scene.

"Full of energy I see." Midnight giggled out to Dragora, shocking him from the sudden appearance.

"What, the floor feels nice..." Dragora replied, blushing and getting dressed. "What brings you up here?"

"S'kria told me to come get you, apparently it's almost time for you to go back to your realm," Midnight replied sadly, "It was nice to see you again, and it was a pleasure to help my old comrade, perchance we will meet back in our realm, along with S'kria."

"Then let us go to him, Who knows where Slypnir and Zerion have brought me." Dragora replied jokingly, trying to light the mood, "and I'm sure we will meet again, I can be sure of that..."

Midnight let Dragora finish dressing and they both walked out to the road and began following it toward S'kria's cottage. Dragora looked upon the golden fields and violet sky, dotted with countless stars and cream-colored clouds. Letting out a sigh, he let his heart slow down to the pace of his heavy steps as he proceeded onward. Remembering Slypnir and Zerion, he picked himself back into the quick stride that was natural to him, with Midnight almost slightly jogging to keep up, for he was only 5' compared to Dragora's 6' 2", giving Dragora the advantage of 14 inches over his comrade of the distant past. They reached S'kria's house by dusk, Midnight panting slightly for was not avid in cardio, he could feel his heart pumping faster than when he was in battle. When they went inside, the fox greeted Dragora with a hug and motioned to the alabaster-robed draconian sitting near the fire with his hood up. He quickly went over to the robed man, greeting him with a customary pat on the shoulder and sitting across from him, noticing how the male towered over him when he sat down. Although he could not see the man's eyes, he saw a faint grin on the figure's muzzle, reassuring him that this person was friendly.

"Okay, he's here, now how about you show us who you are..." Midnight said cautiously, keeping his hands folded behind his back.

"Yes, I'm most curious as well, actually." S'kria asked, standing beside Mdnight and grabbing a cup of simarkan coffee, for no one else would touch the stuff, due to the fact that it could burn the roof off of a full-bred dragon's mouth were it not careful with sipping it.

"Well at least let him finish his meal." Dragora said looking at the ravenously eating gentleman, Still not able to see his eyes no matter where he looked into the hood.

After a couple of minutes, the draconian said something in an exotic tongue that stirred something deep within Dragora's mind, as if he longed to speak the language the was coming to mind. Letting a few pronunciations slip from his open mouth, astonished at himself for replying without thinking., saw the man remove his hood, revealing eyes and facial structure that was almost congruent to Dragora's. Midnight and S'kria both jumped in shock and gawked at the resemblance, not unlike Dragora, who felt as if he was looking at family. The draconian looked up and flinched back, almost dropping the plate as he looked at Dragora with the utmost curiosity and hugged him whispering one word that was in the common language that brought the young male to tears.

"Son..."

"I...how...?" was all that Dragora could reply, choking back as many tears as he could, finally seeing the family he longed for so long ago.

"I'm sorry I never kept you... such a fine young man you've grown up to be, and well-learned too..." Dragora's father replied, seeing the mark of soul-forging on his shoulder, faded to an almost unnoticeable scar.

"I shouldn't have done this, it's what brought me here..." Dragora replied, seeing his father's same deep purple eyes he himself had glancing at his shoulder, making him move his hand over it, embarrassed.

"What do you mean? Did... did you not seal it?" The man asked looking at Dragora with a concern that forced Dragora into a guilty "no", "Well, it's good that it didn't take control over you completely and that you got it removed...Now come, your friends are waiting in the land of the living, and I would much rather see you there, no matter how wondrous this place is." He finished, hugging his offspring closer and mouthing a thank-you to the two astonished furs in the back.

Dragora's begetter his son something in the archaic tongue, not knowing the words in the common language, and Dragora answered with a firm yes, seeing that his father merely accepted it, knowing his son was just being who he was. Midnight and S'kria just exchanged confused glances, neither of them knowing what the question was, and looked back to the reunion. After a few more minutes, they both got up, the tall draconian having to arch his head to fit in the small abode, and they bid the fox and panther farewell, walking outside, adjacently down the path toward the tree where the robed man began chanting and a portal appeared. His father motioned for Dragora to go first, and they both went through.

Zerion once again was headbutted by Dragora as he shot up and gasped for air. A moment later the spirit solidified and caught Slypnir off guard, looking at the resemblance that was uncanny between the two draconians.

"I've REALY got to start staying away from you when you sleep..." Zerion said rubbing his head with mixed emotions of pain and joy to see his friend alive and well.

"Dragora, he-" was all Slypnir could say, walking over to the taller of the two and examining him closely.

"...is my father, yes." Dragora finished for him, throwing both Zerion and Slypnir into a shocked stare, switching between the two draconians sitting upright.

"Your father is a sage!?" Slypnir exclaimed in amazement.

"So you do have a father..." Zerion uttered, lost in thought.

"Yes, and I'm no longer bound to that sword, I can use the elements freely!" Dragora answered excitedly.

"If it would not trouble you, I would like to join your journey, wherever it may lead...." Dragora's father asked aloud to the trio. "I have been down here for 32 of our kins' years and I haven't had fresh air or have I seen the world change, neglecting my natural urges of curiosity to remain 'safe'."

"Of course, but I never caught your name..." Slypnir asked to the joyful man.

"Nijraketo, Nij for short." Dragora's father replied hastily, going into the room he first came out of to gather his belongings.

"Nij...I've seen your name in my dreams... do you know anyone named Herfrund or Refta?" Slypnir asked, recalling his dream with the wolf and engraved stones.

"Wait, you had that dream too?" Zerion asked Slypnir inquisitively.

"Is that the dream you stumbled out of?" Slypnir asked Zerion, who was now curious about his premonition of the names and how Zerion had the same dream.

"Yes, but that was after it faded into something else." Zerion merely replied.

"I don't know about your dreams, but Reftaline was Dragora's mother, And Herf left this place long ago, gathering up the courage that I lacked to leave, in order to search for Dragora." Nij answered after letting Zerion and Slypnir finish their thoughts, coming out of the other room with fine looking clothes and a sword that made Dragora cringe at the sight of it. "What, is it my clothes?"

"No, it's that sword... The one that took control over me I made myself, but I always wondered why it looked familiar after I first made it. The only difference is that mine had a dark blue sapphire in the hilt where your Amethyst is." Dragora said looking away, reminded of his experience and hurting Zerion.

"This sword has been in the family for generations, and it was properly soul-forged by by first master of the art, your ancestor." Nij replied, holding the sword out to Dragora intriguingly, while Slypnir studied it from where he was at. "go on, wield it. Only descendants from his lineage can wield his spirit, his passion, his art."

"Dragora turned, hearing that he descended from the first soul-forger, and took the sword cautiously, feeling a tingling sensation throughout his arm.

Dragora put both hands on the sword smiling that his lineage was confirmed, and stood there for a moment. Everyone else noticed Dragora's eyes glow luminescently, almost neon purple after putting his hands on the sword, but only his father saw the silhouette of the sword's soul stand by him, putting his hand gently on Dragora's shoulder, and wielding the shadow. Slypnir approached Dragora gently and softly touched his other shoulder, pulling him back into reality.

"Your eyes... they aren't of fire, but of light..." Slypnir said, startled at the change of his eyes, and how they glowed with a radience that could be seen penetrating the deepest fog.

"I felt his touch... I feel him standing by me..." Dragora stuttered out, looking at his father in amazement.

"I've never seen such a thing, nor did my eyes glow when I wielded it, for that matter. As for the spirit, there was a legend passed down in the family about how the ancestor would stand beside a hero of our descent..." Nij softly replied to his son, eager to see the lore come true with his own eyes.

"Now I see, fate's hand can be seen in this... if it was not for Dragora being knocked out before the trip, or losing control of his power in Krjn, we would have never came here. We would have been more or less bored with our trip, also we would never have known Drag' here was gonna be a hero." Zerion stated, contemplating all that has happened on the trip, along with how he couldn't help but shake the feeling he had heard the name Herfrund in his past.

Dragora handed the sword back to Nij, who simply sheathed it on his back, and picked up his supplies.

They all headed out of the house, With the entire of the population being in their solid forms, who were making way for the sage and the trio following him to the plaza. Dragora, Slypnir, and Zerion all looked around, seeing how they dwarfed in size and seeing the occasional resident glance at them curiously, while one mistook them for children, and patted Slypnir on the head, and then seeing the matured face, apologized in his native tongue, in which Slypnir only accepted the apology and continued following the rest of the pack to the elevator, where they slowly ascended to the upper levels, which were now also bustling with life in the corridors. They climbed up the stairs, seeing the manticores laying there, sleeping and the other licking it's paw. Slypnir went around they back to get the feed for them while Nij found a corner in the caravan to put his stores and climbed in, followed by Dragora while Zerion jumped up front on the passenger side of the caravan. After Slypnir fed the manticores and got everything set up, he jumped into the driver's side and began to leave into the bitter cold breezes that blew outside with his friend revived and a new recruit into their traveling band as they made their way back to Krjn, where they would plan to go next after searching for the nobles' daughters.

*sry about the M/M tag i don't think i put any yif in this chapter, but it required it to make the story adult rated and if this was marked clean then they would have no access to certain parts where there IS yiff, just trying to keep altogether*