The Coalition of Elements

“There weren’t always dragons in the valley. In fact, they moved in only recently.” Caylus said this so casually, if Allen hadn’t known better, he would’ve assumed that “Dragon” was just a family name. However, Allen did know better; he knew that a dragon was a massive flying beast that could squash a man twice his size beneath a single foot. “Yes, they arrived just after the sky islands fell. I’m actually quite surprised that these all survived the Fall.”

Allen glared at Caylus’ silhouette against the setting sun. The “Lord of Darkness” that Allen had once looked up to, now a monster calmly overlooking a valley full of winged beasts. Allen could’ve so easily taken his dagger and drove it through Caylus’ back, his side, his arms… leaving him to die alone in his guilty blood. He was almost convinced Caylus would’ve allowed it from the way he was sitting there, his back to Allen.

Instead, Allen stood silently, fists clenched. His mouth was agape, deep exhales the only auditory indication of Allen’s fury.

“You’re likely confused, my boy,” Caylus turned around slightly. “Angry, no doubt—furious, even. There’s no way you wanted it to go this way. I can’t say I blame you. How could I, the man who raised you, taught you good and evil, and taught you how to protect yourself, have done this?”

Allen clamped his teeth. “You deserve to die for what you did to this world.”

Caylus let out a breath. “Yes, I do.”

“So many have died because of what you’ve done. So many innocent lives have ended. How could you be so cruel? So unfeeling?”

“My boy—”

“Don’t call me that!” Allen shouted, tears streaming down his face. “I’m not yours. I’m not anyone’s.”

Caylus drew another sharp breath and turned himself toward the young man. “Allen. Difficult as these things may be to understand—”

“NO MORE EXCUSES!” A dagger formed in Allen’s hand, a shimmering red blade made of pure, concentrated pain, most of it drawn from Allen himself. Tear stains still on his cheeks, Allen stood firmly, prepared for whatever desperate fight Caylus might put up. “Death. Decay. Darkness. Despair.”

“Allen—”

“Face me, Tyberian Caylus. I am not going to die as a villain to myself. I will not die knowing I didn’t try to end the greatest evil I’ve known.” Allen took a combative stance, dagger forward in his right hand as his left prepared to use Aura, just like the monster before him had taught him more than a decade ago. Allen had grown up a trained killer. That’s all he’d ever been.

That was all he ever would be.

And all this because of this man who stood before him, cloaked in darkness, the mists around Caylus consuming the light that shone from behind.

“You don’t know true evil.” Caylus said, his voice shaking. “And for that, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t show you what we were truly fighting against.”

“Those poor kids?!” Allen spat back at him. “You made me fight kids to achieve your ends, Caylus! And I did! I fought and killed children who had just begun to live their lives! You’re saying that they’re the evil?” Allen furiously threw his blood-dagger at Caylus’ gut, but it was consumed by the darkness surrounding the powerful Elemental, likely dissipated. “All those men too? Fighting for a country that you aimed to destroy? Fighting for their families, to protect them and provide livelihoods?

“Was all this worth it, you sick devil?” Allen shouted, his voice chorusing through the mountains beyond. “All this darkness?”

Caylus’ dark form shimmered, the blackness surrounding his figure warping the air around him.

“That’s just it, Allen.” Caylus said, his voice little more than a whisper. “Nothing I did was of any consequence. I failed.”

Allen charged forward with a shout, thrusting his left hand towards Caylus’ gut, sending a surge of pure pain through the large man’s chest. The darkness surrounding Caylus dissapated, revealing the man’s wide, angular face that had been hidden before.

Tears ran down Caylus’ cheeks as Allen stared into the man’s eyes. Allen, feeling energized by the pain being extracted from and reinforced back into Caylus’ body, pushed his powers further, undoubtedly causing Caylus more and more pain as some slits opened up in his skin.

But those weren’t tears of hatred, or of betrayal.

Those were tears of deep, true despair.

Allen gave his power a rest, despite his combat senses screaming at him to keep going, to finish this monster off before he got the satisfaction of watching the world crumble beneath his master plan. It was all too late to stop the Fall; all that remained was a debt to be repaid, a sin to be atoned.

Caylus fell to his knees at Allen’s feet, gasping for air as the red slits in his skin scarred over. “I…" Caylus wheezed. "I'm sorry—"

Allen kicked his former mentor to the side, the large man crumpling in pain from the force of the blow. “Sorry?” Allen hissed. “A world died because of you. If I could think of a punishment worse than death I'd give it to you, right here, right now.”

“Just as you should,” Caylus whimpered. “But my evils were meant… to prevent this. To protect you and this world… from this…”

Allen paused, but scolded himself for doing so. “Liar.”

Caylus closed his weary-looking eyes. “Have I ever lied to you, Allen?” He coughed, blood seeping from his mouth.

Allen blinked. Honesty… Caylus had always remained adamant about the concept… but how could he claim something so outlandish? The “Lord of Darkness,” an advocate for truth? And yet, Allen knew Caylus better than to doubt this.

“Talk,” Allen demanded.

Caylus struggled to right himself, but fell again to the ground, blood snaking from beneath the man’s shirt onto his hand. “My plan was not to bring this world to an apocalypse…" Caylus struggled for breath. "I only wish I’d been strong enough to prevent it without you.” He grunted as he pushed himself up onto his elbow.

“My dear Allen—” Caylus choked, from tears or blood, Allen couldn’t tell. “I’m sorry I threw you into this. I’m sorry for everything. I deserve nothing less than death…” Caylus was certainly crying now, his crumpled form shaking violently. “I wish that death was all there was left for me.”

“But there are things you need to know.” Caylus collected himself—as best the man could with open wounds staining his arms and legs with fresh blood. “I am guilty, that is certain. But I did what I did to prevent this; I chose you because I knew you would right my wrongs if I failed.

“I did not wish to leave you to atone for my sins; I had hoped my penance would have come with my death, rather than the lives of so many innocents. This battle is not ended with my death, nor will it end with yours. But Allen, it can end. It will end.

“Because of you, my boy."

Allen shouted, his voice echoing through the mountains, as another dagger was brought straight through Caylus’ heart.

Caylus let out a final low groan as he stared up at Allen’s face. “I… I’m sorry, Allen.”

Teeth gritted, Allen drove the knife further into his ex-mentor’s chest until the life faded from Caylus’ eyes. Allen glared into the pained face and did all he could to ignore the memories that glared back at him and the warm blood coating his hand.

Allen fell to his knees, still gripping the shimmering red knife that protruded from Caylus’ chest, just above the dagger that was stuck in his—

Allen’s bloodied hand recoiled in shock. The dagger that he’d thrown moments earlier was stuck in Caylus’ gut—Allen had thought that Caylus would have deflected or dissipated the blade, but he’d taken it straight on.

Caylus had planned to die here.

Allen knelt beside his mentor, who laid bloodied and broken atop the mountain. A fallen world before him, thrown into anarchy, uncertainty, and despair. He now knew the injustice he’d committed, and had thought that killing Tyberian Caylus would have been a sufficient recompense for the misery he’d inflicted upon the world.

But now Allen wasn’t so sure.

Allen couldn’t afford to trust Caylus’ words anymore, but he could see if there had ever been any merit to the “Lord of Darkness’” teachings by inspecting Caylus’ various journals, one of which stuck out of the corpse’s shirt pocket.

Dark Aura seeped out from the man’s chest wounds, rising slowly into the sky as Caylus’ soul was taken from his body. Allen paused, uncertain whether to show respect to the Elements or whether to spit on Caylus’ dead body. Ultimately, he wiped his eyes and stood, proceeding with the latter.

If there was a Creator, he didn’t care anymore. Even as Allen thought this, he felt a tugging upon his very being, a deep guilt piercing his soul. Still, Allen’s soul hadn’t been torn out of his body like those superstitious Seers had claimed he would be.

Allen stared at the corpse, wondering what Caylus’ twisted Final Act would be; when it happened, Allen would witness Caylus’ corpse dissipate.

Yes, there it was. A blackened mist emanating from the heart and creeping across the rest of Caylus' decaying form; some unspeakable evil undoubtedly overtaking the remaining population, reflecting the true desires of Caylus' twisted soul. Something awful, causing misery and havoc wherever—

I love you, Allen.

My son.

Allen froze.

Caylus… no, it couldn't have been… his Final Act was to….

Allen collapsed to his knees, overlooking a valley filled with dragons.

And he screamed.

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What is that sound? Mithril wondered, stopping to perch upon a mountain peak. It was distant, but so powerful… it was difficult to pinpoint the source of the sound, but eventually the silver-scaled dragon spotted a figure atop a high mountain, surrounded by crackling crimson energy that spread like veins through the dark sky that acted as the man’s backdrop.

Mithril wondered what the call had been for. Was it a song, like the sounds a bird made but less elegant? Or perhaps a roar, like a beast's, to give warning?

The young dragon bounded into the air, flapping her wings to inquire of her father, who had much more experience with humans—such confusing creatures, they were, in her mind.

She soared through the air, letting the silver aura surround her wings and lift her higher into the sky; she faced north, toward the pinkening sunset as she flew, the cool wind ruffling her scales gently, almost tickling her.

As she grew nearer to the other Dragons’ refuge, she twisted into a harsh dive, letting the gravity propel her downward. Mere moments before she hit the ground she extended her wings, sending a burst of wind downward, ruffling the patches of sparsely-placed grass that remained upon the shattered ground beneath.

Another few steps and the young dragon was within earshot of the circle of Elders, who sat solemnly, as if praying to the Spirits.

"Father!" Mithril called, her voice a delicate growl that echoed softly as she bounded nearer. "Father, that human on the mountain made a loud noise. Did you hear it? I didn't understand it; do you know what it means?"

Another silvered dragon, much better-muscled than most of the other beasts, craned his long neck to look at his daughter. On a different day, he might have reprimanded the young one for speaking so loudly while the Circle sat so near, but today was… special.

Mithril paused for a moment as she considered the events of that day: the falling islands, careening down upon human cities, destroying kingdoms and shattering the earth… it had been a miracle the dragons had all managed to escape alive. Unfortunately, Mithril knew better than to consider the same for the humans.

After this brief break in her stride, she found herself nearly toppling over onto the dust, but righted herself as she trotted nearer to her father, before sitting herself properly in front of her father, who was sighing.

"Mithril," he breathed, his deep growl laced with a series of faint, seemingly random bouncing sounds. "That human you saw was Allen, the Elemental of Decay. The noise he made is something the humans call a scream."

Mithril tried to say the words using the humans' strange jumpy vocalizations; the hiss came out naturally, but transitioning between the two accents was difficult for Mithril. "Ss-scream…" she finally managed. "What does a scream mean?"

Her father turned his head back to the circle, his glittering scales flickering up and down his serpentine neck as they reflected the crimson sky that backlit the great dragon.

"Human screams," he grumbled, the sound like a soft lull to Mithril's ears. "Can mean many things. Some indicate fear. Others can be a deep expression of anger. However, I believe his to be a scream of many taints—guilt, sorrow, grief, anger…

"That's the thing about humans, Mithril." Father sighed, a puff of powerful air causing the dust to swirl around below. "They can't decide on one. They find it so hard to choose. So, instead of picking one, they pick all of them."

Mithril paused for a moment, then remembered whose presence she was in. If you want the Circle to respect you, Father’s voice scolded softly in her head. Remember first to respect them.

She bowed to the rest of the Circle and backed away. “Thank you, Father,” she growled humbly before turning and looking back to the mountaintop.

That same crimson-veined cloud was still present, but any sound coming from Allen had been masked by the distance. Still, she felt as though she could still hear it.

Those humans were confusing things, for sure. It was a wonder they hadn't gone extinct yet. However, the way the setting day had gone, Mithril doubted it would be long.

It was all too bad; Mithril would have loved to try to understand them.