Ryker.
The name inspired considerable antipathy within Leon. Artorias’ account of the assault on his and Serana’s villa had painted a profoundly negative picture of the man, and centuries of separation from his maternal family had only entrenched that view within Leon. It took a dreadful amount of self-control not to immediately launch himself at the man who entered the room, and it seemed like Ryker himself had been somewhat expecting him to do just that, given his defensive stance.
The cousin of Serana and nephew to the current Patriarch of the Great Black Dragon Clan cut an impressive figure, fitting his lineage. His golden eyes were sharp and intellectual, while his square jaw and proud nose had certainly made many a woman swoon, Leon was sure. His fit body was one built for war, not show, which his loose black tunic, red pants, and black boots did a poor job of hiding, while his twelfth-tier aura was strong and tempered with intent. Combined with his easy, fluid movements, Leon could easily see that he’d not only been trained for battle but was comfortable facing the prospect of killing and the threat of death.
And he knew that walking into this room presented a threat; Leon could see it in his eyes, in the way his matching golden orbs fixed onto Leon and didn’t move. For all the witty comments he could make about ‘interrupting something’, he knew what he was walking into.
“So,” Leon growled as he turned to face Ryker completely, matching the battle-ready stance, though softened slightly with his arms folded across his chest, “you’re Ryker. The man who took my mother from me.”
If Ryker was surprised at all by the reveal, he didn’t show it. If anything, the smile that flickered across his face was one of relief more than shock.
“Nyra didn’t lie,” he whispered. “Arrogant.”
“Ryker, my everdark brother,” Jennifyr said, “what is this?”
“This, my azure sister,” Ryker replied, “is a man I never thought I’d meet.”
“Why would you?” Leon interjected. “You left me to die.”
Jennifyr sharply inhaled while Varon exclaimed, “What?! Wait, wait, wait, both of you!” The Green Dragon interposed himself between Leon and Ryker, disturbing the buildup of tension. “You two need to slow down! Explain!”
Ryker hesitated, and in his hesitation, Leon leaped to set the narrative. “I was born two and a half centuries ago, the son of Artorias of House Raime, the last inheritors of the Thunderbird, and his wife… Serana of the Great Black Dragon Clan.”
The room fell silent as he took a breath to let his statement sink in.
“When your war with Kamran began,” Leon continued without challenge from any of the other three, “you came to my home, when I was still a newborn, and took my mother away. You and Fain. Those who chased you destroyed our home and forced me and my father into exile. They… eventually caught up to us. But I’m here now, by bolt, blade, and blood, I’m here, and I’m not leaving without finding my mother.”
He paused again, wondering if any of the others were going to jump into the silence. Though his words had stunned them earlier, he wasn’t disappointed this time when Jennifyr found her tongue.
“Wait… I remember my everdark sister leaving to go adventuring around that time… And after the war, she went into secluded training for decades… Ryker, my brother, what is going on?”
“Leon showed us his power,” Varon added as he walked over to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Leon. “He had a memory slate, too. His claim of power is without question. Are his more specific claims accurate, too? You certainly seemed to know of him when you arrived…”
The instinct to go hard on Ryker was strong, but Leon summoned herculean might to force it down. He wanted the man to try and explain himself first, and only if he tried to worm out of it would Leon apply more thunderous pressure.
Golden eyes scanned Leon up and down several times, and when they met Leon’s gaze again, Ryker’s stance had relaxed minutely. “You look much like your father. But you have the eyes of our Clan. And… the aura. I’ll admit, when I first came upon your home, I was stressed. Fain and I had been ambushed shortly before attempting to find our dear cousin, and we were still being pursued. I hadn’t thought much of your father when I first saw him, but Serana… ensured that I would never forget his face.”
Ryker’s eyes swerved from Leon’s, and he, in a show of calmness, walked over to a bar to pour himself a tumbler of something dark red filled with bright red star-like glowing motes of light.
“I hope you don’t mind if I have some of this, sister; these are heavy topics to speak on.”
“Pour one for me while you’re there,” Jennifyr said as she took a seat. Both Leon and Varon demurred when Ryker offered two more crystal tumblers, though Varon did so with much more grace and amiability; Leon himself wasn’t going to trust any drink poured by this man.
When Ryker turned around, the two filled tumblers in hand, he walked over to the table that Jennifyr sat at and gave her the second drink before sitting on the sofa across from her, looking calm as could be. In his aura, however, Leon could detect a slight quaver, and Ryker’s eyes rarely left him for long.
“The unity of dragons,” Jennifyr said before Leon could demand Ryker continue, “is one of our greatest strengths. The seven brother Clans stand as one, united. My everdark brother, my typhonic brother… let us sit and welcome our new brother, shall we? And exchange words, not fire, as is right among our Clans.”
Ryker was already sitting, and Varon didn’t hesitate to take a seat next to him, leaving Jennifyr to smile meaningfully at Leon and pat the sofa next to her. Taking the hint, and out of gratitude for her helping to ensure a smooth meeting, Leon took the seat before returning his expectant glower to Ryker.
“Continue, my everdark brother,” Varon insisted.
Though Ryker nodded, he took a long sip first, his eyes glazing over for a moment as if seeing something far away. When his attention returned only a moment later, he did as Varon bade.
“When we returned… the Patriarch was not happy. The Matriarch was joyous, however. If only she’d lived, perhaps things would have been different…”
“We all suffered losses in that war with Kamran,” Jennifyr commiserated.
“We did,” Ryker whispered. “My uncle decided… after losing the Matriarch… that what Serana needed was a powerful alliance to ensure that she would never suffer such a loss again. The Matriarch would’ve come for you herself, given time,” he nodded to Leon, though Leon wasn’t sure if he ought to take the man at his word. “With her gone… Serana found herself under house arrest. The Patriarch did not believe she’d find a good match if it was known that she had a husband and a son already, so he forbade her from returning, and he swore me and Fain to secrecy. Serana… refused to cooperate, leading to her house arrest.”
“And… you just went along with this?” Varon asked incredulously. “And abandoned a Clan member wherever he was? My brother, our Clans were severely reduced from that war! We needed every bearer of power we could find!”
“Perhaps,” Ryker conceded before his gaze sharpened on Leon. “Or perhaps it would have been better for the bloodline to have continued elsewhere, beyond the reach of our enemies. Just in case.”
Leon absorbed his statement stoically, while Jennifyr and Varon stared at him in abject disbelief.
“The inheritors of the power of the Great Black Dragon…” Jennifyr whispered. “How have you become so terrified?”
“We follow our Patriarch,” Ryker simply replied. “No matter how much we may… disagree on matters… he is still our King, the leader of our Clan.”
“Leon…” Varon began hesitantly, his face scrunched up in thought. “Where… is your father? If Serana is your mother, then…”
Finally, Leon’s stoic façade cracked, giving them a glimpse at a deep grimace before he reasserted control. “As I said… Those who pursued you to my home eventually caught up to us. I buried my father according to his wishes: in the central pavilion of my childhood home, with a golden Heartwood seed in his heart.”
“My condolences for your loss,” Jennifyr quietly said.
“An interment fit for a god,” Varon added. “A Heartwood seed… where were you raised again? I consider myself quite well traveled, and even I have hardly ever seen the trees themselves, let alone a seed…”
“That’s… unimportant,” Leon said. “The doom of the Thunderbird Clan was nearly found on that plane, and I’d rather as few people as possible return there, if only to spare them a similar fate.”
Jennifyr smiled with the eagerness of a woman who wanted to get away from the topic of death. “Hm. Keep your secrets then…”
But Ryker wasn’t as cooperative with that unspoken desire. “My condolences, Leon. Were it up to me, you both would’ve been retrieved, and you would have been raised among dragons, not the… people of your home plane. I have made many mistakes in my life, but leaving you two behind is the one I regret the most, even if it took me a shameful amount of time to realize it.”
A twinge of discomfort raced through Leon’s core. He’d expected… not a repentant Ryker, and while he was hardly at the point of forgiveness, it certainly blunted his instinctive anger.
“You have undoubtedly withstood much to reach the Nexus as you have,” Ryker said with a wry grin. “Don’t think that you would’ve had a more comfortable life among us. We are dragons, not doves, and you would have been raised accordingly.”
“Especially since you have a dual-bloodline…” Jennifyr murmured. “I think I can count on a single hand how many times the blood of a Great Dragon has successfully coexisted in someone’s body, and I’d have fingers left over. Leon… can you show it to us? Just so we can be sure?”
She looked at him with such good-natured expectation that Leon didn’t have the heart to turn her down. His mouth, still set in a hard line, didn’t so much as twitch, but he raised a hand and conjured first the Thunderbird’s lightning, and then the Great Black Dragon’s Doomfire. For the time being, however, he kept his black lightning and his unconscious use of the Eye of Calamity to himself.
As the last lick of Doomfire died on his hand, Jennifyr exclaimed, “There is no doubt…” Her eyes closed for a moment before snapping open again. “Did Nyra see this? Why wouldn’t she tell us?!”
“Our aureate sister,” Ryker responded, “seemed to think that Leon was faking.”
“I told her my lineage,” Leon quietly stated. “She seemed to take offense.”
“I’ll have to speak with her,” Jennifyr quietly said. “For now… why don’t we head over to War Cry? We can continue speaking there, after we reunite mother and son…”
Hope, blindingly brilliant blazed within Leon for a moment, before Ryker decided to douse it.
“My uncle would not take that well. His actions have softened, but his attitude has not.”
“Then I’ll bring my father!” Jennifyr declared. “Varon, you can get your father, too, can’t you? And the rest of our brothers and sisters; he can’t turn us all away! He’ll—”
“He’ll take offense,” Ryker insisted.
“Are you saying that I should wait longer?” Leon asked in a dangerous tone. “After coming so far?”
“I just—look, just… You have leaned into the Thunderbird Clan hard, haven’t you? Some might take that to mean that you’ve abandoned the Great Black Dragon’s blood—”
“The Great Black Dragon himself doesn’t seem to care,” Leon stated, and the other three stared at him, none sure how to react. “He ignored me for a long time,” Leon clarified. “But after I proved my power in a battle with a Primal Devil, he appeared in my soul realm. Since then… he’s been more sociable.”
“You… you mean…” Jennifyr sputtered in confusion, “that… he talks to you? Interacts with you?”
“At times of his choosing, yes,” Leon confirmed. “He even saved me from a Primal God, once.”
A look exchanged between Varon and Ryker had Leon immediately regretting bringing that incident up, as it was clear that everyone was, at the very least, skeptical of his claim, if not outright disbelieving.
“Leon,” Ryker said, “I promise you that you will meet with Serana soon. Just… give me some time.”
“No,” Leon countered. “I have been advised time and again to abandon caution and declare myself for all the universe to see. I’m not inclined to appear outside of War Cry and start letting off blasts of Doomfire, but if this drags… I’ll do what I have to. I am not waiting any longer.”
“If you don’t want an entire Great Dragon Clan after your head, you’ll wait,” Ryker growled, his glare meeting Leon's own. He was the one to break it first, to Leon’s muted satisfaction. “Give me a few weeks. I know my Patriarch; he does what he thinks is best, but if presented with a meeting already done… he’ll give in.”
“I’ll speak with my father,” Jennifyr again promised. “Pressure will be applied from all sides! Now that we know you’re here, my new everdark brother, we’re not abandoning you!”
“Indeed,” Varon agreed. “Dragons do not abandon their own. Or… they shouldn’t.” He punctuated his statement with a dirty glare sent Ryker’s way.
“No,” Ryker said, enduring the judgment with grace. “We shouldn’t.” He stood up and said, “I’ll try and meet with Serana. I’ll… try something. I have some ideas. Something to turn heads. If nothing works… then in two weeks, go to War Cry and let off some Doomfire. Can you wait that long, Leon?”
“Patience is hardly a dragon’s first virtue,” Jennifyr said as she warmly regarded Leon, “but for the sake of harmony between the Clans, let us try Ryker’s idea first?”
“We can arrange meetings with the leaders of the other Clans in that time,” Varon added. “When our everdark uncle is presented with the facts, he’ll have no choice but to accept you, as he always should have done.”
The words themselves weren’t as convincing to Leon as the sheer anger Varon had finished his statement with. He put more trust in the momentary glare that Varon once more gave Ryker than he did to a thousand such words.
“I have waited two and a half centuries,” Leon said through clenched teeth. “I can wait another two weeks…”
“Thank you,” Ryker said. “I’ll waste no more time. For all our history, Leon, it is good to see you here hale and hearty. It was long assumed that you and your father were dead. You have my condolences for your father, but having you around will lift the entire Clan’s spirits, even if the Patriarch might have problems with it.”
“Fain found me,” Leon said without pretensions.
“He… uh, he did?” Ryker asked.
“Yes,” Leon confirmed. “He’s the one who gave me the memory slate. If you thought me dead… then it means he never told you that he found me.”
“I’ll have to speak with him…” Ryker turned his eyes away for a moment, and when he returned to meet Leon’s gaze, the golden orbs were filled with conviction. “Welcome back to the Clan, Leon, if it’s not too early for me to say…”
“It isn’t,” Jennifyr said as she threw an arm around Leon’s shoulders. “I would have spoiled you when you were younger, Leon, just as I do for Nyra. Though maybe I should help her father instill some discipline within her…”
Varon added something too, but Leon had eyes only for Ryker, who took the opportunity to practically skip out of the room, off to do whatever it was he had in mind.
‘You’d better not keep me waiting…’ Leon darkly thought. He hadn’t been lying when he said that he’d been waiting long enough…
---
It was a wonderful day: the sun was shining, the athletes were training, and the Games were set to begin soon. Ever since his arrival at Belicenion, Bennu had been surrounded by old friends, all of whom he had eagerly caught up with. He had so many friends that he was finding it difficult to find time for all the new people he’d been meeting recently, all of whom he wanted to make into new friends.
More than that, however, was the fact that the bearer of his heart was close by: Serana, the woman of enchanting beauty and grace that he chanced to meet so long ago, was also at Belicenion. He’d been doing what he could to arrange a meeting, but so far, the Great Black Dragon Princess had shown the same aloofness that he’d come to expect from her. He was patient, however, and would continue until he was able to meet with her.
She would be his wife one day, of that he had no doubt. They were of two bloodlines, so their union might be fated to be childless, but he didn’t care; for that woman, he would sacrifice anything at all.
As Bennu prepared to head down to Belicenion itself to look for some fine gift he could send to War Cry, he felt a feather in his soul realm begin to burn. Intrigued, he pulled it out, a smile spreading across his face as he immediately identified who held its pair.
“Prince Ryker…” he whispered as he held the burning feather, his voice carrying through the shadow-tinged flames to the paired feather. The fire wouldn’t consume either feather, allowing them to speak for as long as they needed. “What a surprise, I have come to expect little but silence from your storied Clan.”
“Bennu-of-the-Flaming-Wind,” Ryker responded, his voice carried by the crackling of the flames. “As a courtesy, I thought to reach out. My everdark Uncle believes you to be the best match for Princess Serana—” Bennu couldn’t help but preen at that statement. “—so I thought it best to tell you that someone else visited Sweeping Tide. I’m told that the visitor was seeking my azure sister’s aid in arranging a meeting with Princess Serana…”
All the good cheer he’d felt from the beautiful morning vanished, replaced with fiery rage. Despite the intensity of the feeling, Bennu spoke his next few words calmly. “Who was this visitor?”
Ryker’s answer only enflamed Bennu’s rage. “The Storm Lord Leon of House Raime, claimed heir of the Thunderbird Clan…”
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