Liminal Limit

Liminal Limits

Falix had spent his life navigating the gaps of prophecy. Like all dragons in his fleet, he had been gifted with a hint of precognition, a sort of sixth sense that certain strands of the universe were headed his way. He knew better than to strain too hard against the shades of fate. If he dreamed of storms, he flew for shelter. When the wind started whispering that some of his cave mates were primed to start stealing Falix’s food, he struck out on his own. So when he came across the child in the forest, he knew he should have left it behind. He knew that the child would have it’s soul ripped away by the necromancers that hunted it. The child would fight, Falix knew that for certain. Because this was no ordinary toddler. No, Falix recognized him as Tozon the godling, youngest member of the Boaxan divine pantheon. Or, more accurately, the last member of that pantheon. The necromancers had burned the shining city the Boaxans called home, and stolen all their power. It was an apocalypse long foretold, and the dragons knew better than to intervene, even though many of them had liked the Boazan gods. Killing little Tozon, was the final step in a ritual that took decades to create, and Falix should have left him there. Instead the three year old god rode atop his back, high above the trees.

Falix’s death had been predicted before he had even hatched. The Mountain Oracles had told all the dragons assembled that he would be struck down in the eye of a hurricane. A glorious, violent, and lonely way to die. Maybe that’s why he saved Tozon in the forest. Because he couldn’t stand the idea of someone so innocent, dying so alone. Of course, it didn’t take long to realize that Tozon was a fledgling god of thunder, firing sparks of lightning from his finger tips every time Falix set down to make camp.

Tozon was pleasant enough. He knew more words than a human child would at that age, but not so many that he always made sense. Once, when he mentioned the rock slide that had killed Falix’s mother and hatchling brother, the dragon thought the god must have been a mind reader. But soon he realized he’d been talking in his sleep. Tozon was young, but he figured out quickly that Falix seemed to sense danger coming long before it was truly a threat, and as such the boy watched his every move, learning his tendencies and how to retreat when something spooked him.

The first Necromancer to come for the boy had stolen the soul and powers of a fire god. Bad move when facing down a dragon, but Falix could hardly blame the poor man for being cocky. When you’d destroyed divinity, what chance did a lonely lizard and a baby zapper stand?

It was sound logic, excluding Falix’s claws. Humans always forgot about his claws. It wasn’t completely shocking since humans were the only animal dumb enough to try blocking his fire instead of dodging, but still… a fire wizard should have had an easier time with threat assessment. The Fire Thief came at night, whipped up a tornado of fire, and then laughed when Tozon’s fear summoned a thunderstorm.

“I guess we’re at an impasse, huh, beast? Unless of course you’re brave enough to pit your flame against mine,” said the man.

“My name is Falix,” said Falix. And then he swiped the wizard’s head right off his shoulders.

There were four necromancers still on the hunt after Falix killed the Fire Thief. Sometimes he wondered if they signed some sort of pact in blood to never work together again, because they all came after Tozon one-by-one.

The godling remembered a surprising amount about his fallen family members. As Falix tutored him in the ways of the world, Tozon told him all about his uncle who ruled the winter, and his cousin who commanded the trees. For the first time, Falix felt invincible. He knew when the Frost Pirate was coming for him, and thanks to Tozone he knew that those godly powers were useless in salt water. He drowned the Frost Wizard when Tozon was five.

When the godling was seven, The Tree necromancer came for them. In some ways he had been smarter than the others, bringing a small force of zombies with him, in addition to his stolen godly might. But dead flesh and trees made for great kindling. So in most ways he was the easiest to kill.

Fighting when you could see a bit of the future was always a little weird. Sometimes the precognition didn’t even kick-in, and you were left clawing your way towards a future of shadow. But for the most part fighting as a dragon was about managing step five while you were still on step three. It was easier for some than others. Falix knew a she-dragon named Sacknox who could feel all the pain of a fight before it even started.

He always wondered why Sacknox stayed with the fleet for as long as she did. Rumors said it wasn’t just physical pain she felt early. If another dragon was about to yell at her, or chastise her, or even glare at her, Sacknox felt it faster than . The other dragons all found her cowering to be pretty annoying, and her life turned into the worst kind of self-fulfilling prophecy until she finally flew into a sleeping volcano and reignited it.

The fleet debated for weeks whether she was simply tired of all the pre-pain, or afraid that the volcano was going to erupt anyway and kill her in a worse, slower way. The Mountain Oracles had of course predicted she would die in fire, which was the worst, most embarrassing way for a dragon to die.

When Tozon was ten, the wizard of games, lies and drink came for him. He offered Falix a riddle.

“If you win, I’ll give you my powers and be on my way,” said the wizard. “But if I win, then both your lives are forfeit.

“Fair enough,” said Falix. And he did think the offer was fair. But he had no intention of allowing himself to be killed. He would listen to the riddle, and then if he didn’t feel confident, then he would refuse to answer. It was unfair, but so was hunting a child. Even a god-child.

“Here it is: Everyone has at least one of me, but I can never be given away. I come day or night, but even the slightest whisper can make you lose me. I chase after nobody, but if you are brave, you might chase me forever.”

“You’re a dream.”

The wizard burst into flames of his own accord, leaving Falix and Tozon to fly off.

The final wizard had stolen the power of Tozon’s father, the sun god. He came for Tozon the night after the trickster did. Falix did not see him coming, and his fire was no match for the white heat of the sun, even during the night. The duo fled into the air, flying for three days until they lost him in a storm that Tozon summoned.

It went on like this for a year. Every few weeks the solar sage coming to kill Tozon and Falix just barely flew them to safety, until finally Falix had a dream. When he awoke, he brought Tozon back to the forest where they had met. The same forest that housed the dead city of the gods. There they waited for a day and a night.

The wizard came, and he brought the full might of the sun with him. But Tozon was ready, and he summoned wind, lightning and rain from every direction, as Falix launched himself at the wizard.

They fought for hours, Tozon atop Falix’s back hurling lightning bolts, and the wizard flying through the storm on rays of sunshine.

After a long while, half of Falix’s scales had been burned away, and his wings were torn. He flew into the heart of the storm, where he could simply glide along.

The wizard landed on his back.

“You fools! This is where the sun is strongest! You are doomed now!”

The sun was stronger than wind, rain, fire, even thunder. But every god had a weakness. And although the sun shined brightly in the eye of the storm, it could only come from above.

Falix flipped himself in mid-air, flinging Tozon upwards and the wizard down. He grabbed the sun mage as they fell and Tozon summoned the full might of the storm.

The city of gods exploded in a fury of blue and yellow light, but nobody saw it. Nobody except for Tozon, who forged a new pantheon from the ashes of his destroyed home.

Most of the new gods were born from Tozon’s unions. Most, but not quite all. Most of the old gods’ power had been lost to the ether, but necromancy did not fade from the earth so easily. And though Tozon lived and their ritual was incomplete, a transference still took place. A new lord of the dead arose, one outside the bloodlines of men and gods. One who had known his own death and surpassed it. Falix Darksun, the dragon who rode lightning.