The Fallen Chronicle

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.

She wasn’t sure why the thought came to her. It arrived unbidden, a memory belonging to another. After all, she had never been to this alien vale before.

In fact, Theodora Hill doubted the Valley truly existed at all.

She had stepped through the crimson portal into the unknown, going through first at his behest. She knew he was right behind her, but she only had a moment to observe the… land before her. Yet, despite the eeriness of the place, she was taken aback by what she was now witnessing.

She stood on top of a grassy hill beneath an unnatural sky. Rather than the slowly shifting shades she had grown accustomed to, the roof of this world shifted and twisted into a myriad of colours. Though there was chromatic chaos in its writhing transformation, shades of crimson, violet and black were more common. Swirling constellations and writhing auroras could be discerned in the maddening above, all as stable as frightful dreams. Some constants could be seen, however. There were stars and moons that hung in contrasting stability, their silver and gold light tiny bastions against the discord around them.

Two dragons flew through this terrifying wonder, unlike the few that Theodora had seen. Rather than being muscled, winged, and walking on four legs, there was something more ethereal about these beings. Both had antlers in place of horns and needed no wings to fly. She would’ve called them serpents, but there was something far loftier about the twin entities. One was covered in rippling blue scales, while the other bore a crystalline coat of perfect emerald. The way they moved, the majesty of their presence, the light of dreams deep in their eyes. It almost would have been among the most memorable sights she had ever had the luck to behold.

If they didn’t seem so sad.

Below, the Valley was framed on both sides by snowcapped mountains of black crystals. The sheer cliff faces of these abyssal ranges drank in the discordant radiance that raged above, shielding the terrain below from all light save for that of the moons. The full moons, the crescents and the harvests each had a handful of lonely beams that escaped the luminous miasma to grace the land below.

She couldn’t see much of the Valley itself. Dense fog shrouded most of it, obscuring all but the trees, the river, and the great tower at the terminus opposite where she stood. The structure was taller than most she had seen, eclipsing the palaces and great halls across the sea where she had been born. The hexagonal shape, the multiple slanted tiles that jutted out in layers, the redwood that framed pale stone, all of it was so foreign from what she had come to expect from most buildings. Yet, here she was, in an eastern land so distant as to be considered mythical.

And a man born in those myths stepped out of the portal to stand beside her.

He was of below-average height, just an inch shorter than Theodora herself. His complexion was of a man born on this distant continent, with hair almost as dark as hers done up in a topknot. He moved with quiet, lethal grace, utterly assured without the need to project confidence. He wore simple, practical dark clothing that belied his noble heritage and imperial ambitions. At a distance, he could’ve been perceived as an ordinary hiker or woodsman running through the mundane motions of a pleasant yet unimpressive life.

Until you saw his eyes.

Once, they had been poisoned so they were only sickly grey. Then, their brilliant blue hue had been revealed. But only just recently had they turned a shade of perfect red. Power, ambition, and passion raged like wildfire behind that seemingly placid gaze. Yet she was able to sense the eldritch will that enforced implacable control over all that lurked within those flames. Even as she, of all people, stared into them, she could feel the dichotomous relationship between alien power and the gentle soul of the man she had fallen for.

And who she was going to fall with.

Are you ready? His voice asked in her mind.

Theodora shuddered, drawing her black cloak around herself. It was an unusual reaction, for he had spoken in her mind perhaps hundreds of times before this day. Yet she could sense the two factors that made her more vulnerable to his mental influence. Firstly, this place made his contact far more potent. She could practically feel his emotions wildly radiating from him. The recent sorrow, the unrelenting drive, the scarred and poisoned kindness that still beat ever so slowly. And, of course, his impassioned devotion for her. The desire, the love, and most of all, the understanding that so few others possessed.

Yet her heart broke to know the second. For the ghosts that had accompanied her so long had gone silent. Though they were still bonded to her fallen soul, they had entered a deep slumber, and likely were never to wake. For years, they had been her constant companion. Even in those most lonely and haunted moments, when she was isolated with nothing but her blood-soaked memories, they had been there for her. And now, her thoughts were alone. This sword of isolation cut even deeper with the dear friends she had chosen to leave behind on this dark path. In her mind, she was by herself.

Except for when he spoke.

Her smile, in this moment, could only ever be slight.

I am.

He reached out his hand, palm upwards. His face betrayed no emotion. It didn’t need to. The hurt of his own decision still scarred him. Even after she had come so far, there was still the fear that he would walk alone again.

She never would let that happen.

She placed her hand in his, and he lead her down the first steps on their path of the noblest intentions.

He guided her down a winding path of wooden steps and pale earth. Black grass rose on the sides where they stepped, and the sky darkened above them. The chaos above was now only barely perceivable through a midnight veil. Distantly familiar scents tickled at the edge of her senses. Smoking stone, burning flesh, falling ashes. Memories flashed through the back of her mind, and the Valley reacted. The black grass grew taller when she approached, the lightless blades bending to try and reach where she stepped.

Be cautious here, dear. Dai’lan’s voice was gentle but cautionary. Your mind affects this place more than anything else.

It reached out to me first, Theodora replied nervously, seeing memories twisting in the fog that circled around their first few steps.

Indeed? Dai’lan seemed concerned, but not surprised. His eyes turned to the undulating fog. Ah, but of course. The fog searches, and the banks will manifest. So long as we progress, we will arrive unscathed.

And if we halt, or turn back?

Dai’lan paused.

I’m afraid we’ve both gone too far for either option to ever be considered.

Theodora nodded in sorrowful agreement.

They continued in resolute silence down the beginning of their path, with only the haunting fog and hungry night for company. Even Theodora’s hounding shadow was gone for the time being. Leaving only the two of them to descend to the river bank, where a small rowboat awaited.

Dai’lan helped her into it before he took his seat. He opened his palms, and two oars appeared in them. No flash of light, no arcane phrase murmured in a half-dead language. They just appeared in the lost prince’s grasp. Theodora undid the ropes, drew a rod from below her, and pushed the boat away from the dock. He began rowing, the dark water gently parting with each stroke. Soon, the shore of their departure was hidden behind the seeking fog. Forever beyond their each.

Theodora stared down into the water where it was placid. They passed beneath one of the silvery rays of the moons above, allowing her to glimpse her reflection. Wintery pale skin, dark hair that fell to her shoulders, light freckles across her nose, and three aged scars down the right side of her face. She reached up and gently traced her fingers down each line, the injuries old on her body but ever fresh in her mind. The shortest ones were right beneath her eye and right above her jawline, while the greatest ran from her low temple all the way to the edge of her mouth.

As she stared into her reflection, her usually still heart beat once in surprise.

Not because of the reminder of her scars, but because she could see her own eyes here. Every mirror, natural or otherwise, that she had come across had reflected the grey that had obscured her true colours. But in this place, she saw the vivid green that she had been born with.

She looked up at Dai’lan, whose expression remained utterly neutral, save for the faintest smile.

You sweet fool.

He nodded, the smile ever so slightly widening. But then he hesitated, his eyes narrowing. He turned, and they both watched as the fog cleared and the banks of the river could be seen.

Theodora’s eyes were immediately drawn to the west bank. As they progressed down the river, more and more sights became oh so familiar. A comfortable home nestled into the mountains, a hooded corpse face down on the muddy bank, a dark wood, shattered gravestones, ruin after ruin, midnight scales covered in blood, a ruined wall covered in fallen feathers of sacred white, and icons of sickly devotion. Stomach-churning, she tore her gaze from the revealed land.

And saw the desolation of the eastern bank.

There was… nothing. Just grey land with not even a hint of ash or dying soil. A lonely expanse, empty of all love or warmth. Though distance was difficult to judge on this journey, it felt like there were miles of colourless terrain. It took them some time before Theodora was able to see anything on the eastern side. The more their journey progressed, Theodora was able to see it. A towering blossom tree, its petals healthy and brilliant. Beneath its virulent branches, thrust into the ground between two of its roots, was a sword. A curved blade of rippling patterns that was all too familiar.

Turning, Theodora saw the sorrow on Dai’lan’s face. His eyes were fixed on that familiar weapon, even as his body continued to row them down the only path. Gently, Theodora reached out and rested a hand against his cheek, and felt the tiniest stab of sorrow as she felt a lone tear roll across her hand.

I am still here.

Dai’lan shut his eyes and leaned into her palm for one precious moment. How wonderfully strange, this small moment of touch. He was utterly changed from what he had been. Some would call him a divinely blessed inheritor, others an eldritch monster. In a way, both were true. However, neither revealed the scarred soul core to his being. A wounded heart that reacted oh so strongly to that most simple and powerful of palms. The touch of a loving hand. For a moment he rested there, a mind ranked among the most powerful and damaged of them all. Not the monster of prophetic nightmares, not the future emperor, but simply a man feeling loved. A sensation that had been foreign to him nearly all his life.

He sat back up after but a moment, nodded the briefest yet warmest thanks, and he kept rowing.

The eastern bank only darkened after that. She watched it even as he refused to look. The poisoned wood was so obscured that naught but shadows and outlines could be seen. Malicious beasts skittered through the shadows, their hateful venom dripping from their fangs to ruin the earth. Black webs of manipulation and deceit were woven around prey so that they may join the sickly hive. Mother arachnids claimed their champions, ripping away at the minds of their prey and filling the bloody remains with delusions of loving obedience. One greater and more subtle than all the rest bit downward, and she heard a woman scream.

Dai’lan kept rowing.

When they both cleared the forest, the features of both banks became identical. A stone palace from the heart of a familiar city. Scattered pieces of rock from underground tunnels. Twin graves, one greedy and dark, the other noble and glowing with embers. Then came the crashed ship, the icon from the site of restoration, a table from a familiar restaurant, and the skull of a zealous fool who had thought he could be counted amongst corpses and dragons.

They both looked at these relics with sorrowful fondness. But that time in their lives was over, and could never again truly be theirs. Even if it meant abandoning all that they had built, all that they had come to know, and all that they had come to love.

Even if it meant abandoning those they considered family.

Those memories were sadly easy to leave behind. Their prior journey had been a surprisingly wondrous time, for it had brought them together. Yet it had concluded with a bitter parting, made all the more painful by their former comrades. This break made their decision on which path to take mournful, but clear. Saddened yet focused they moved on to the river terminus. A dock of dark wood excellently made and far more stable than the one they had departed from awaited. Theodora held up the rope, her eyes darkened, and it shot out like a snake to wrap around a pillar. The oars vanished from Dai’lan’s hands, and he helped guide the rowboat to its resting place.

They tied the knot before rising to their destined road.

They had a far shorter journey to reach the tower. A pathway of perfect black stone, far grander than any even she had encountered, guided their ascent. The fog had become calmer, the ground more stable, and even the sky surrounding the monolithic structure was simply that of a starry night. The only exception was that every constellation was crimson and arrayed in perfect rings. Soon they came to the base of their destination, the Spire of Dreams looming so tall as to eclipse even the obsidian mountains that surrounded it.

And the world began to whisper to her.

It wasn’t with words, but with sensations. Visions and emotions alien to her mind began to flow into her senses. Of a throne of fate beside a throne of choice. A longing for one to claim his rightful place, and a joyous celebration that another had come home with him. There was cautious testing, and then content satisfaction at sensing the nature of her blood. And, most surprisingly of all, there was silent yet mass rejoicing at the bond that she had cultivated with him. Of all these distant minds and foreign identities, only one chose to speak to her, and even then with warm swiftness.

Welcome home.

For years, Theodora had felt a primal fear of those words. That somewhere out in the dark, something hoped to reclaim a long lost scion. That it would drag her into the merciless night, where she would be shackled to a terrible purpose. In a way, she supposed that’s what was happening now. Only… this was the acceptance of another family, separate from whatever had allowed her to inherit her dark magic. A collective that accepted her based on her own merits, and not because it viewed her as some distant blood relation to be seized and enslaved.

And the closer she got to the tower, the more whatever was studying her began to understand. She could sense it mourning the parents she never knew, raging at the beast from the dead night, and even genuine regret that it had been partially responsible for taking her away from the life that she had fought flame and storm to build. She became more and more nervous as this force comprehended more and more about her. That she was being contacted and manipulated by a force beyond the ken of all who breathed.

Until she sensed how it felt about Dai’lan.

It was exultant that he was here. A joy that was oh so sweet, for it had feared for him all throughout his life. How he had been shut away from its gentle touch, how he had been poisoned and thus deadened from its influence. Oh, how this collective had raged when that had happened. Despair had ripped through these minds, and they had howled through the twisting dark. They thought their precious son had been taken from them forever. But then his sister had cut him free of the onyx web. Had escaped with him into the west, where their gaze could scarcely touch. Yet they had bent themselves to watch his journey, to even dare to hope that he could one day return.

They had watched with fearful anticipation, even as the oh so hated poison closed its vile grip around his heart. It had watched with surprise and warmth as three others, Theodora included, had crossed sea, earth, and sky to find a way that would return him to their world. And, even though it had been terrifyingly close, they had succeeded. And the celebrant cacophony that tore through their utterly strange spaces would have deafened a pantheon. Though it would take time, they could eventually reach him, and offer him the birthright that had for so long been denied to him.

The freedom to live life as he chose.

And his first choice had been to bring her here.

She doubted she would ever understand this power, this collective. But in its own strange and incomprehensible way, it loved Dai’lan. And it loved her too, for her role in his salvation. It even wept, to know that others responsible for his restoration would never join its embrace. That, for now, would be enough. Enough to persuade her to continue taking the steps, even as the doorways before her opened like an abyssal maw.

They passed through the gateway and entered the Spire, where all the dreams faded.

Together, they stood in absolute darkness. Neither rampaging luminescence nor stalking fog could be glimpsed in this empty night. All she could see was him, standing across from her.

What is this? She questioned.

A necessity. Here we are hidden from all who would hunt us.

Theodora’s still heart felt the sting of those fresh scars. You think they could find us here?

No. But I don’t want to chance it, either. It is better that this ceremony occurs without any possible interruption.

Dai’lan held up his hand, and another crimson portal opened, no larger than his palm. A bolt of emerald light darted from the gateway, circling through this vacuous place. It swirled, growing larger and larger until its radiance manifested into the form of the emerald-scaled dragon she had seen back in the Valley. Here, the spirit towered over them both. Yet despite the majesty of its presence, the power inherent in its massive form, Theodora spotted something mournful in the way it bowed its head before her in obeisance.

“Behold,” Dai’lan said sadly, using his voice for the first time since they had departed the Web. “My mother’s dragon. The spirit bestowed on she who would marry a prince of the Anaga line.” His gaze became distant for a but a moment, then focussed itself again. “Place your hand upon the spirit’s brow, and the transformation will mark the beginning of the fulfillment of the promise I made you.”

Theodora hesitated. “What will happen to me?”

“Your mind will awaken,” Dai’lan explained gently, moving to stand beside her, staring up at the sorrowful spirit. “Like me, you will take on the telepathic powers inherent to my blood. Your magic will also change, transmuting in such a way as to become you practically immortal.” He reached out and gently held her hand. “Eternity awaits.”

Smiling only slightly, Theodora reached out. But again, she hesitated. She knew what lay down this road. They had spoken of it before they had come to this place. Conquest. They would reclaim his family home, break down the princes and daimyos of the east, and resurrect the empire that another being like him had brought crumbling down. They would protect the populace and hunt down the monsters that lurked at the fringes of civilization, no matter how much their court complained. People would be able to live out their days safe from the stalkers that prowled at the edges of night. No one would be abused by some rampaging mage, no family would be dragged into the water by some enslaving alien, no one would lose their loved ones to a walking corpse hiding in a forgotten tomb.

And no little girl would lose her whole world, because of some monster in the dark.

It was not an easy path. By any reckoning, it would be one of the bloodiest in history. Rivers of crimson would flow through her hands, and she would cut herself a thousand times wading through jagged bones before they would be even close to done. But it was the only way. No one else could do what needed to be done. No one else was willing to take the steps required to do what was right. And she couldn’t blame them. Both their names would be cursed a million times over for daring to walk this path of self-condemnation. But she couldn’t turn away any more than he could.

That didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid.

“Neither of us will be alone,” Dai’lan said, sensing her trepidation. “No matter how great the weight becomes, there will never be a time where it is just your strength holding them up.”

Theodora squeezed his hand and nodded. Yet even as she reached out to seal her fate, she had to wonder. Why was the dragon’s presence in the valley so strange to her mind? How had that thought occurred to her? Was it a treacherous whisper from the beast that still stalked her? Was it a warning from that being? These concerns faded like the light of a setting sun from her mind. Only one true question remained to her.

How had it come to this?