Beneath the Dragoneye Moons

The ashes came up to my shins now. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to walk on the ashes without leaving a trace, or sink through, leaving swishing footprints in the grey remnants of life and civilization.

It was cold far earlier in the year than it had any right to be, and I suspected we were in for a particularly harsh and brutal winter. Auri was going to be a literal lifesaver hundreds of times over - without easy access to firewood to burn, with limited reserves, the fact that Auri was a neverending font of controlled fire was going to save the citizens of Orthus Village.

I was going to freeze my pretty ass off. Immunity to fire was great until it wasn’t, and I was seriously mentally debating spending significant amounts of time in my [Tower] just to stay warm. That, or cocoon myself in layer after layer of clothing, then liberally apply [Teleportation] to any and all problems. Ventilating our house so we didn’t breathe all the air also gave passage to the South Wind to attempt murder. Or… I could be a little less of an idiot and just Radiance myself. I didn’t have [Radiance Resistance] anymore.

I made a decision on the ashes, and split the difference on how I’d walk. One foot stepped on the ashes, leaving no footprint, no trace of my passage, and the other thudded deep into the not-snow, giving me a staggered walk, like a lady only wearing one heel.

The thick clouds above me parted, roiling away like the sea in the wake of a great ship, and I’d restrained in myself the instinct to flinch, to cast my eyes up to the sky and expect disaster.

Disaster was in the sky, but it was not coming for me. A full flight of dragons were speeding along, off to commit violence and ruin someone’s day.

A dragon sighting was a rare, once-a-decade experience.

A full flight of them was a nightmare, the normally solitary beasts cooperating only under the worst of circumstances. Part of me wanted to try [Identifying] them, but I remembered how, impossibly, Lun’Kat had been able to tell I’d been looking at her. I wasn’t about to tug the dragon’s tail. The saying was usually metaphorical.

They vanished to the west, and I hurried home. I didn’t speed, didn’t fly, didn’t chain teleports, nor did I dawdle. My hand was on the doorknob when a pillar of volcanic flame erupted far over the horizon.

I couldn’t tell if the pillar was small and nearby, or a fraction of the world away and so deep in space I could see it. Given the speed of the dragonflight and the timing…

Somebody was having a really, really bad day.

But hey, it wasn’t every day we got to witness dragons causing havoc way over there.

“Hey Raccoon! You’re going to want to see this!” I shouted.

After a quick discussion with Iona and Auri, I went off, following the dragonflight and the low-space marker they’d sent up. I spent half the trip there dodging and weaving through falling rocks, until I eventually gave up trying to dodge the endless unintentional barrage and just powered through it all with [The Mantle of Dusk and Dawn].

I had no hopes of finding any survivors in an eight-mile radius around the edge of the dragon strike. I didn’t bother looking, simply eyed the gigantic lake of Lava warily before flying around the rim, seeing if there was anyone who merely got clipped by the collateral. Someone half-crushed by the falling rocks.

The thick black smoke meant I was relying entirely on [The World Around Me] to see, and practically speaking, I was ‘seeing’ by looking for any level up notifications, given how dramatic my healing range was compared to my visual range. Thank goodness for the extra eyelids I’d included in my biomancy transformation, because of them, the smoke wasn’t unbearably itchy.

There were no levels, no notifications. I didn’t know if it was due to my level and the fact I’d done this sort of disaster healing before, the situation, or if my efforts were futile, and there was nobody to heal. My mana wasn’t giving me any clues, giving a ceiling to how much healing I could be doing.

I wanted it to be the first one. That I was so good at healing, that I was so powerful that this wasn’t a challenge, that cleaning up a mess wasn’t risky or weighty, that I was gaining no levels.

My heart of hearts believed that everyone was dead. No matter how I extended my radius, I wasn’t getting any levels.

I screamed in frustration. I screamed and screamed into the uncaring void, my cries of despair swallowed by the ever-falling ashes. I screamed until I breathed in too much, then coughed myself hoarse before screaming again.

Why?

Why!?

Why did people have to fight, to die. It was all just so senseless. I wished I could snap my fingers and change the world, but I couldn’t be the first or the last to wish for a lasting, enduring peace. It had clearly fallen apart every time.

I was useless here, but there were other places I could go, other people I could help. I flew up high, high enough where my skin tingled against the thin air and my healing started to work just to keep me alive, and looked down at Pallos.

The blue marble had turned into a grey globe. I oriented myself, the task far harder than it had been just a year ago. I shook my head at how different everything was. The shape of the coastlines were still there, but all the details were different. Peninsulas had turned into islands, bays had been created and filled in, new mountains dotted the landscape and others had been leveled. Lakes had turned into swamps, and grassy fields now had craters being slowly filled in. Vast swaths of green forests had turned into charcoal black. Not a single mango grove was to be found - I’d plotted all of them on my mental map. I double checked them all, looking for any little speck of green. There had to be some survivors, yeah…? Ｒ

I’d read a few diaries of prior Immortal Wars. None of them had described devastation quite on this scale.

The world hadn’t changed so badly I didn’t know exactly where I was, and I was able to spot a few landmarks, quickly identifying more.

Right as I spotted Lake Mare, an aurora started to shine around me. I eyed the brilliant greens and blues with suspicion, alert and waiting for an assault.

When nothing happened I shrugged.

Sometimes, auroras just happened.

Sometimes, there was a bit of light and joy in the world.

I flew down to Mare Town, mentally tracing out a path, two dozen locations in the world I knew were still up, alive, and fighting to restore civilization.

I couldn’t create world peace, but I could do my best to straighten things out in this part of the world, to help, to make things just a little better.

[*ding!* Congratulations! [The Elaine] has leveled up to level 1361->1363 +200 Strength, +200 Dexterity, +800 Speed, +800 Vitality, +2000 Mana, +10000 Mana Regen, +4000 Magic Power, +4000 Magic Control from your Class per level! +1 Strength, +1 Dexterity, +1 Speed, +1 Vitality, +1 Mana, +1 Mana Regeneration, +1 Magic Power, +1 Magic Control for being Chimera (Elvenoid)! +1 Mana, +1 Mana Regen from your Element per level!]

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

Yay levels! Slow and steady won the race, but the satisfaction of knowing I’d mattered that much to the affected people was a far better dopamine hit than any ding!

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Seraph of the Dawn] has leveled up! 999->1000 +512 Speed, +512 Vitality, +1024 Mana, +1024 Mana Regeneration, +1024 Magic Power, +1024 Magic Control per level from your class per level! +1 Strength, +1 Dexterity, +1 Speed, +1 Vitality, +1 Mana, +1 Mana Regeneration, +1 Magic Power, +1 Magic Control for being Chimera (Elvenoid) per level! +1 Strength +1 Mana Regeneration from your Element per level!]n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

[*ding!* Congratulations! You’ve unlocked the Class Skill [Birds of a Feather]]

Birds of a Feather: Companion to Auri, the rainbow phoenix, you can summon burning autonomous Radiance creations, and task them to perform basic activities. From burning enemies to burning projectiles, from burning trash to burning attackers, your birds of a feather will flock together to achieve all your burning goals! -77,777 mana regeneration.

I’d expected level 1000 to be a big milestone level, and with the way the System contorted on itself, my ironclad belief that 1000 was going to be a big milestone level for a skill helped manifest it. It hadn’t happened with [Arbiter of Life and Death], in large part because I believed my skills were excellent and I didn’t need anything new, but the bone-deep belief that 1000 was a major milestone had it happen for [Seraph].

The word ‘basic’ was doing a lot of heavy lifting in the description. How basic was basic? Could they follow orders? Intent? Did I have to micro manage them all, or was it more like Auri’s [I’m the Brrretiest] skill, where her mind was all but cloned? Could the skill evolve in that direction? Hundreds of autonomous helpers was a hell of a skill, but it tended to be more of a Mirror element skill. It wasn’t usually a Radiance skill.

Then there was the whole ‘start at level 1, it’s a combat skill, have fun leveling it’ aspect. [Radiant Angel’s Spear of Obliteration] was in a similar spot. I’d spent way too long grinding it, only for it to only be occasionally useful. When I needed it though, I needed it. [Birds of a Feather] suggested it would be more useful in daily life, but I had so many utility spells already. I didn’t exactly want to say no to more utility, but gimping my combat abilities right as everything went to hell in a handbasket felt wrong. It wasn’t the time to grab a brand new skill. Skill upgrades, yes, sure. New skills…? Ehhh… I was leaning no.

Lastly was how Auri would feel about it. She tended to be a little vain and possessive about being the best bird, and on one hand, ‘look, you’re so good even the System thinks you’re the best’ weighed against ‘we’re making cheap knock-offs.’

The answer to that problem was simple - I could just wait and ask Auri what she thought. None of this guessing and self-doubt when I could just sit down and communicate my questions!

I headed home, the first early snowflakes of winter caressing my cheeks.

Auri did not want ‘inferior copies of herself tainting her image’ running around.

“Hey Skye!” I unceremoniously barged into Skye’s ‘office’, one slightly larger room in the barracks that she’d commandeered to single-handedly run the entire town’s logistics and administration.

On one hand, it felt almost unneeded. Like, what did roughly 600 people need government and organization for? We all had our little stretch of land, we all knew our backs were up against the wall for survival, we all knew we had to stick our noses to the grindstone and work.

On the other, it was undeniable that we had plots of land and nobody was pulling knives over it because of Skye’s work organizing it all. It wasn’t like she was sitting back and demanding everyone work and feed her while she ‘administrated’, she was doing all this work on top of growing crops on her own little stretch of land.

Well, had been growing. The plague-harpy had marked a sudden end to our growing season, and with an early winter’s snow upon us, only the most powerful of [Farmer] Classers were trying to make something happen. Winter without books promised to be long, cold, and boring.

I predicted a lot of late summer babies.

“Elaine! Is anything the matter? Is there anything I can do for you?” Skye looked slightly alarmed, which made sense. I wasn’t Iona, I didn’t drop by socially for tea, and if I had a problem it was a problem.

“Nope!” I put on my best smile. “I’m here to make everyone’s job easier! I’ve got a ton of various Legionnaire supplies, and right now I’m thinking about all the tents, bedrolls, and blankets I’ve got lying around, and our inability to really have or make much of anything. Where can I drop it off, and I’ll let you administer it as needed.” Mare Town was filled with the remains of the Sixth, but they had supplies like the ones I was carrying around. Push come to shove, I’d give a group their first blanket over their eighth.

Skye practically bounced up to her namesake, the snowflakes in her eyes energetically swirling around.

“Excellent! Are you sure you don’t have a mind-reading skill? I was just worried about that.”

I shrugged.

“The items in my [Tower] weigh on my mind. When I see a good opportunity to use them, I want to take it.” I said.

My mind flashed to one particular tool, and I felt the burning need to go and use it.

“Well, third room on the right isn’t being used anymore, and I know the Nixes could use some of what you’ve mentioned. Feel free to just dump it all, I’ll organize it. I know you’re busy and your time is valuable.” Skye said.

I waved the [Princess] off. We’d get her to [Queen] eventually. We had a whole Plan. It got more ridiculous by the day, but hey, we had a reduced need for sleep and a great need for entertainment.

“Cheers!” I [Teleported] off to the room in question, and a minute later was standing in piles upon piles of equipment.

Skye had said to just leave it, but the teeny tiny Legionnaire Bunny voice inside me wouldn’t shut up about how disorganized it all was, and how easy it’d be to fix. I waved my arm and reshuffled everything around into neat stacks and piles. A moment’s thought from me saved Skye potential hours… or less, knowing her skills and how helpful Titania was.

I found myself with a chisel in my hands, and I knew exactly what I had to do.

“Hey love!” I bounced into our little cottage, where Iona was huddled under a thick blanket in front of an Auri-fire, chatting companionably with Titania. I’d seen Raccoon outside, running laps in the snow. The goblin was dedicated. My wife’s face lit up as she saw me.

“Flightysaurus!” She affectionately nicknamed me. “You’re back! Come snuggle?” She opened up her blankets, patting her lap.

I wanted nothing more than to curl up with Iona and snuggle with her. Warm in the blankets, snow falling outside, the fire crackling with my best friend. We could probably get some tea going - pine needle tea was an acquired taste - and enjoy each other’s presence. Trade some stories with Titania, the woman was a veritable font of them.

I was still holding the chisel.

I shook my head.

“Would love to, and I will later. I’ve got something to do first. It’s about time, I think.” I held it up.

Iona went quiet.

“Ah.” Was all she said.

“Brrrpt?” Auri asked. Titania was tactful enough to give me a slow nod.

“Don’t worry about it, Auri.” I said. “Stay in here where it’s warm.”

“Yeah, shoo.” Iona politely waved me out. “I’ll stay up until you come back.”

“It might be a while.” I said. She shrugged.

“So? I’ve held vigils for lesser things.”

I [Teleported] over and planted a kiss on Iona’s surprised lips, then vanished a moment later.

Off to the mountain, off to where our home had been.

I circled for quite a bit, looking for the best spot. One particularly steep cliff was the best bet, and I spent a long three minutes studying it.

Then I flew up and liberally applied [The Rays of the First Dawn] to the cliff, making it mirror-smooth and shiny. There was a single large crack running down the middle, and I would simply need to work around it.

I suspected I might run out of room, and went tiny. I could always add in obelisks later if needed, each one another page. I could make an entire forest out of them.

[Astral Archives] was my perfect memory skill, and more practically, it was arranged like a library. Information stored in a thousand books, easily copied, moved, sorted, and ordered. Some books were special to me, like my copy of the Medical Manuscripts or beloved memories. Others were written into large volumes and promptly shoved into various dusty corners, like what I had for breakfast four days ago.

Spoiler: It was rotten carrots again.

I tenderly brought one of my most precious books to the forefront of my mind, one of the only volumes of memories I’d named.

The Book of the Dead.

I mentally opened it to the first page as I got my chisel ready. I didn’t need a hammer, not with my stats, not with [Everywoman] guiding my movements. I could use my [Rays], but I wanted to do it by hand. It meant more.

I carved small. The wall was gigantic; my book was larger.

Plus, I needed room for the inevitable expansion.

Lyra. My first friend, my biggest mistake.

The first name carved into stone, a flicker of immortality for my ancient friend. Once more her name was out in the world, once more people’s eyes could see and wonder.

It was one name among literal tens of thousands that I wanted to write down, that I wanted to carve into stone. I wasn’t foolish enough to think it’d last forever, but I could hope for a thousand years of remembrance.

Elainus. My father, who welcomed me into this world. I kept it to just his praenomen, I needed the space.

Julia. My mother, who tucked me in at night.

Origen. A Ranger, one of my first companions as I set off on my life’s adventure.

Name after name, person after person, life after life, I carved their name into the wall. From my parents to a beggar whose name I’d barely overheard, from Emperor Augustus to Sunrise, all were equal, all were memorialized. There were thousands and thousands of new names to add, Atlas being the largest tragedy for Auri. I was almost certain Auri’s favorite guard was dead. I couldn’t say the same about most of the Sentinels, and it was frustrating. I understood the ‘decade to declare dead’ policy so much better in the moment.

Little stars denoted those I believed could have a chance of being alive, as the snowflakes melted into tears.