Beneath the Crimson Scales [Short Story]
Old torn boots trod upon lingering souls embedded in the dirt, unhurried. Lady Moon hung low, not low enough for dawn to save what was left of this place. An owl called somewhere in the ruins. A band of crickets sang on, indifferent. The place had already been raided, presumably by previous adventurers looking for treasure. Thalrak wasn't here for that.
His claws, thin and half-starved-looking, read every bump and dent of the old architecture. Some pieces went into his belt pouch. It didn't matter whether they were worthless or worth enough to retire him early. Time ticked on as he kept searching. Junk, and more junk. Perhaps the earlier adventurers really had cleaned the place out. A bitter taste sat on his forked tongue: the neighboring townsfolk had asked for this town to be investigated, and every adventurer before him had taken the loot and reported back that there was nothing to find. The townsfolk knew that wasn't true.
What was interesting was that the bloodstains had corroded into the infrastructure. His notebook recorded a few findings of this quest: the blood, strange abandonment, and more. Thalrak had also recognized some of these records mentioning the same name over and over: Yvris, the Red Lord. As an immortal, it sounded familiar to him. Could be the lord of this town or a local deity he met once, perhaps. Many of the moss-covered buildings did have patterns of red stars and seas alongside metal chains, somewhat. He nodded solemnly as he tried to understand some of the meanings. Scorched, rotted, and destroyed, monsters were likely to be the downfall of this town. It was also common knowledge that kingdoms and towns often fell and were abandoned, many due to diseases, wars/invasions, and rebellions. A cycle Thalrak himself had watched repeatedly, but no matter how many times it happened, he had always been there to watch and learn.
Then, he continued on to the east, slightly elevated and rocky side, the part which had the least buildings. Some patches of grass had also been burned in a terrifyingly accurate shape of a circle and a few of the stone hedges were scratched in anger. Monsters weren’t unusual, especially in the dark like now. To add into the fact, many civilizations had chosen the quieter side of the kingdom for its holy ancient rituals. Seeing the altar where oracles were shared, some thoughts nudged him into a quiet, bitter ramble.
‘Retired, my ass.’
After the prophecy-saving, the world-ending, world-saving mess of it all, his friends had gone and built lives—families, businesses, seats in government. He was the only one who still hunted like this, alone, like a man who'd never learned how to stop.
‘Maybe I should’ve tried making more friends with other long-lived species.’
Hopes soared before he remembered again. There had been someone else once, long-lived like him, who might have understood. That was over now, changed by ego. He didn't let himself finish the thought. And outside of that disaster, many other long-lived species have deep historical grudges: elves, dwarves, aasimars, and more. Thalrak was rather lucky that metropolitan short-lived species view tieflings as half-humans and treated them as such, like any other flawed humans. Especially after the win when they were facing a world-ending prophecy, many short-lived species began to have a bit more positive notes on tieflings. Unlike the long-lived species, who were mostly detached about this matter.
When he did try to recruit other younger active adventurers, Thalrak had once accidentally forgotten their names, which turned the adventurers away as they thought the tiefling would just burden them with older people's problems.
‘Hairon, Sylvia, Taz-Mak, and Karu… Hells, why do I only remember it now?’
He sighed once again as he tried to steer his mind towards his mission instead of reminiscing. His life is more peaceful now.
‘Stop it and breathe.’
Alas, for some reason, a brown-winged moth flapped its fragile wings near him. Its wings had eyes that saw the unseen. Perhaps his rants reached the infernals and decided this companion would stay with him. Thalrak's red eyes, heavy-lidded, flickered to the insect for a second, uninterested, and asked throatily, “Where are your friends, dear?” as if the moth could reply, while continuing to walk around as his little friend followed him. Well, it was a waste of time for the moth to have its puny short life around someone that doesn’t know what he’s doing anyway. Everywhere he looked and touched was already known, yet he hungered for more knowledge.
The tiefling bit his lips; this quest will go on for long unless he does something. His hands then weaved the air, a spark of dance to find more of what he’s searching for. Had it not been the gold that was on the line, the man would spend more time here, alone. Purple magic covered the place to scan through for the artifact that’s gnawing his mind away. He was searching for an Aetheric Magnifier—an ancient mechanism that focused raw mana through gemstones. Neighboring townsfolk did say that there was a disturbance in the air, perhaps caused by this relic. In the old days, battlemages used them with obsidian to cast continent-wide shields, while war clerics used quartz to heal entire armies. Rarer still were the moonstone cores, tuned for rebirth and renewal as it’s useless to him. He wasn't looking to start anything over. If the rumors were true, the relic buried in these ruins was worth every bit of the risk. Some particles vanished as it didn’t contain anything of importance, some glued to mark its presence for Thalrak to look into. At last, one particular spot under the rubble, a bit far, was glowing purple with the stars guiding him. Maybe this will all be worth it in the end.
However, before he could move, the cold wind pierced through his bones. Sharp thorns of air stopped his legs from walking. Grasslands shouldn’t be this cold. Thalrak’s tome shivered for a moment, rattling his belt filled with trinkets of adventures. His body jerked unknowingly, crouched, and slowly moved to the nearest boulder blessed with runes of the old. A sigh of relief couldn’t escape his mouth. Thalrak’s little moth friend didn’t follow and flew away like its life depended on it. The world had gone silent and his scarred tiefling ears rang deafeningly. Hardened like the rock behind him, he dared not move nor breathe. Thin eyebrows scrunched, swallowing his spit as if it increased his focus. There’s nothing. So, why is his blood rushing and pumping? Did his sickness take a hold of him already?
‘It can’t be…?’
He thought, only a dead man would talk. At last, grasses are being stomped again, rustling. Sometimes it stopped, perhaps to see what lies beyond its sight. A huffed sigh, yet it wasn’t from the adventurer. Something’s lurking. Its steps were heavy, ushering even the grounds to take cover. Old and ancient trees made way for the monster to walk out of. Giant, is one word to describe, taller than the forests around. How could Thalrak not sense it before? Had his senses gone dull after all these centuries? A creature this big, was it hiding all along? For what reason? His brain spun to pinpoint an answer, but the monster did not wait.
Armor made of razor-sharp and battle-hardened red scales, sharp enough that dozens of it looked like horns. Its yellow eyes, strangely sorrowful despite their reptilian slits, snaked around the forgotten ruins. It huffed a grumbled smoke from a damaged throat, as if trying, and failing, to form words. Unlike other dragons Thalrak saw, this one didn’t lift its head and instead walked in a lowering manner. Particles of purple glow stuck in some parts of the rubble and ruined blood-stained buildings caught the attention of the ancient being, and the dragon soon made its sluggish way there. As the beast stepped through the dust, Thalrak caught sight of its crimson scales—patterned with the exact same star-and-chain motifs etched into the ruined shrines. A cold knot tightened in his stomach.
Thalrak’s face twisted in horror, as if someone were about to shatter his life's work before his eyes. ‘No, no, no! Oh infernals, I can’t lose another chance!’ For a second, he almost immediately stood up, had it not been for his creaking joints. The tiefling gritted his pointed teeth and cursed inside his heart. His desire for knowledge pushed past his instinctual fears, clawing against the natural reactions of any prey. Dragons aren’t supposed to exist here, at least not in this age of the world. This is wrong. No ecosystem under the Great Mother’s sky could sustain a beast of that scale. In all of his hundreds of years exploring, he confirmed it. Sure, there were manmade and spirit-guardian dragons, which already rarely appear, but definitely not wild ones. Thalrak, himself, had seen and talked with dragons in the infernal realm; they were like any other ordinary people despite their size and form.
With an exasperated sigh, he stalked the dragon from behind using his Silent Steps spell and hid amongst the remnants whenever he could to reserve his physical energy. Adrenaline ushered the tiefling to go anywhere but here. Thalrak tried to quietly breathe the empty air, ‘The body, mind, and soul are of different existences,’ he kept reminding himself.
Then, jaw tightened, as did the dragon. They both noticed the same artifact under the debris: a dimmed oval rainbow moonstone trapped in a circular bronze mechanic that made it keep carefully spinning. Both of their eyes widened. An Aetheric Magnifier—a primordial, dangerous core capable of multiplying a spell's output tenfold, provided it didn't drain the caster's lifespan first. For a second, Thalrak secretly checked to see the dragon's silent reaction, his body stiffened, hoping that the wild beast would be bored or leave it alone.
Contrary to his prayers, an untamed firedrake, of course, would be curious to check anything unusual. The old tiefling waited to observe what this monster would do before acting. As any other animal, the red dragon carefully uncovered the wreckage with its long scaly snout, pushing the stones onto the empty field next to it. ‘Tch, at least it made itself useful to me,’ Thalrak reluctantly considered. He could always use a spell to lift objects up if the beast wasn’t here, though this was a tiny save for his deteriorating physical body regardless. Viewing around the grounds, Thalrak noticed that if he were to escape, this part of town was edged with vast forests. He could easily do an invisibility spell and steal the relic, however leaving this dragon alive would endanger nearby townsfolk. Later, the reptilian had uncovered the Aetheric Magnifier, potentially aiming to destroy it. So he made a firm decision.
Hidden within the ruins, he took a stance and with shaking hands, focused on the metal chains around the hedges and charged it with his mana. Strengthened and tightened. It’s as if the tons-weighted chains became his arms, with veins and nerves controlling. No time to spare, he grabbed and trapped the dragon’s limbs with chains. The chain snapped taut with the ring of a struck bell, drawing the beast down like a bow pulled to full draw. It roared like never before; hundreds of birds filled the sky, hurryingly moving away as trees and grounds rustled. Before the beast's eyes landed on him, Thalrak stepped back in a swift arc, throwing a blinding flash spell straight at the creature's face.
A distorted, pained scream echoed through the ruins. Seizing the moment, Thalrak snatched the artifact from under the rubble, jammed it into his belt pouch, and sprinted back toward the tree line to gain distance.
But as the blinded dragon thrashed in agony, its massive spiky tail slammed into a standing archway. THUD! A wave of ancient masonry collapsed directly across his path, walling him in with heavy stone. Thalrak skidded to a halt, trapped. Behind him, his blinding spell dissolved, and a steady, unblinking glare pinned him to the spot. His body was uncooperative for a moment, as if he was a teenager again that faced the World Eater, a pure-blooded and god-cursed hydra with his friends, fear once again spreading like plague after hundreds of years in peace.
Thalrak's jaw set. “I suppose there’s no other way but to kill you now.”
A tide of mana surged as he motioned the running energy into him. Broken claws pulling the chains yet again to shatter it. As the dragon prepared to click his tongue and pulled again, Thalrak hurled piercing magic across the dragon’s armored body to test its durability. Although there’s drips of blood and a small wince, it didn’t affect much, as expected. It was the tiefling’s turn to click his forked tongue. He weaved again, this time to its neck. Though, knowing his intentions, the dragon disturbed the rhythm by shifting and had his magic hit the body again. One of the chains swiftly broke off with force and rage. Thalrak almost stopped breathing.
‘Focus!’
Its scaly arm reached out and tried to attack Thalrak. Thankfully, its movement was still limited, giving time for the tiefling to move out of the way and arrange another spell. Now, he moved his arms again in a wide neat circle shape with a straight stance. As he kept moving them, the air grew more intense, becoming a weight of burden to the dragon’s body to stop its movement so Thalrak could easily sever its neck. Either that or crush it to death with gravity.
Struck by the weight of the universe, the dragon couldn’t help but lower its body as it’s unable to lift the heavy magic above. Thalrak continued motioning, up until the dragon finally hurled fire from its jagged mouth. The spell had to continue in a straight stance, so he made a swipe gesture just in time as the blazing fire hit his protective field. Grasses and trees rapidly caught on fire. Hundreds of years of civilization were swiftly forgotten with no trace. Burning smoke surrounded them and crackles of embers encouraged the spread of its cousins. Fire caught fast and ran faster, and in minutes the burned husks of trees were toppling into a town that had already died once tonight. Somewhere close, deer crashed through the brush, running from the only threat that still made sense to them.
Sweat and wrinkles formed on his worrying face; he had to finish this immediately before it turned into a forest fire, killing nearby fauna and townsfolk. The dragon didn’t stop roaring its fire breathing, a last-resort too for the reptilian before it’s crushed. Its eyes slightly shivered like Thalrak’s. His legs had also started to tire themselves out after all the running and staying still. The tiefling swallowed his spit again and made a tight locking gesture to make sure the dragon stayed in place even if it’s not increasing the gravity.
Thalrak, then, snagged the relic from his belt pouch and breathed deeply. Closing his hearing and sight to concentrate the flow of his mana, he deafened the world with his presence once more. His Aetheric Magnifier started spinning rapidly as it latched onto the tiefling’s energy. Fueled by the hero’s magic, the altered rainbow moonstone began glowing. Scales bristled along its spine and neck; the dragon knew what it meant. Its pupils slitted to thin pins, the fire didn’t stop but rather wavered for a few moments before the dragon strengthened it again.
‘Oh, infernals, let us all be saved.’
He started to load the relic with his fully-controlled mana, like a non-stop wave of ocean. Its mechanic wanted more and more, desperately leeching off any energy. However, Thalrak limited how much the artifact took from him. Hundreds of years led up to here. Hundreds of adventures significantly increased his experience and control. Even though the gemstone was mainly used for new beginnings and rebirths, anyone could twist a meaning to fit the magic-wielder’s intentions.
To renew the forest, rebirth an experienced adventurer, and end a dragon. It’s all part of a cycle, after all.
Quickly, the Aetheric Magnifier was filled with pure raw mana; even a half-filled one was able to do the job, but Thalrak furrowed his eyebrows—he didn’t want to risk the failure of only doing it halfway. It’s done. The tiefling opened his eyes and targeted both of them. His relic floated close by and shone so bright, they were soon blinded and shed its ultimate current state. His amplified magic blends all colors into a blinding, opalescent light, washing away both the harsh red corruption and the cold purple isolation. Its light overflowed the entire region: its animals, plants, and buildings. Thalrak didn’t stop giving his mana to amplify the effect much, much more.
The light broke like something physical, a concussion of sound and force that rolled across the grassland. Wind heavily flew, swaying everything its way. Thalrak’s black wavy hair and adventure robe flowed with the breeze, alongside the grasses and leaves. A heavy gust made him collapse, one with the Great Mother. Minutes passed as he attempted to blink and open his weighted eyes. Crickets gradually sang again; there were no sounds of crackles to battle its dominance. The relic floated back to Thalrak, now spinning slower.
“Ugh…”
Arms pushing up his drained body, though no longer creaking as much, he was finally able to see the gentle night again. A sigh of relief finally escaped from him. He unhurriedly put the artifact inside his belt pouch again and observed around. Not only had the fires stopped, the forest didn’t even have marks of burning, as if it never happened. Thalrak glanced around him: the architecture had been rebuilt, no blood, moss, or rot. Glory was written in every part of this empty town. Colors were back; no longer was everything covered in dust from the debris. Arms and ears that were once heavily scarred now had little to no scars. Wrinkles followed too, though nothing was fully gone, but he looked half his age back then.
‘I was thinking of rebirth as in just healing me, but I suppose this helps too—’
COUGH!
Thalrak’s ears twitched to the sound. Someone or something coughed, but it wasn’t the tiefling. How could that be?
Across from him, a male elf his age was laying on the waving grassfield. Although he wasn’t bloodied, he was covered with dirt. Despite being a wood elf, he wore an all-red ceremonial traditional outfit. Thalrak got to his feet, no creak in his joints now too, and the wrongness of that barely registered. Something pulled him forward before he'd decided to move. Three steps from the elf, he stopped. The face was younger than he remembered, but it was the same face, and his knees gave out under the weight of finally being right about something he'd hoped for years he was wrong about.
“Yvris.” No question this time, as he already knew.
The wood elf stirred, pressing dirt-stained hands against the dewy grass—hands that, moments ago, were razor-sharp crimson claws. His golden eyes, no longer slitted like a monster's, blinked against the moonlight before locking onto the tiefling.
"Thalrak...?" Yvris’s voice was raspy, stripped of the dragon’s destructive rumble. It sounded achingly familiar. He looked down at his own smooth palms, then at the glory of the rebuilt stone ruins surrounding them, his breath catching. "What... what did you do?"
Thalrak let out a shuddering, breathless laugh. The weight of their painful past still hung between them, but for the first time in centuries, his heart didn't feel heavy. He reached out a hand, hovering just inches from his old friend.
He thought for a moment—this day was truly unexpected. “I guess…”
"I gave us a second chance," Thalrak grinned, "Try not to waste it this time.”