The branches were a mix of pale white and warm brown, spread out in a small, cocoon shape. They seemed to have risen directly from the ground and gave off a very faint, warm aura. A pair of cracked trees stood next to them, broken bark dangling.
Dorian studied them as he stood next to the pile, his eyes curious. Tied around his neck with a piece of thick, magic-enhanced leather, was a small Spatial Pouch, one of the most useful magic artifacts in the 30,000 worlds.
Created by Wizards who studied a branch of Space Magic, the pouch contained a space for storage far larger than its outside appearance. This particular one was a very high class one, with well over thirty cubic meters of storage space.
In the pouch were a veritable plethora of Magic Herbs, so many that the scents of them almost overwhelmed Dorian's mind when he opened the pouch. He used a very tiny amount of energy from his Soul Spell Matrix to form a connection with the pouch, allowing him to access it.
"How much blood do I need to spill?" He asked aloud, turning to look at the ghostly figure.
The dead Wizard seemed a bit fainter than he had before. After Horhavil had agreed with Dorian on their deal, he'd waved his hands together, pulling a Spatial Pouch out of thin air somehow. The act of doing so, however, seemed to weaken him.
He would give Dorian the details to the hidden stash of treasure after he helped the dying Wizard.
"Enough to cover the branches, and set the light they give off to a red tinge. It shouldn't be too trying." The elderly man's voice was calm and placid, as if he was ordering a meal at a restaurant.
Dorian looked down at his body, his green scales glistening brightly in the midmorning light. He then stepped forward till he was hovering over the tree branches.
"Very well." He said, and stabbed a claw into the side of his chest, pulling it down.
He winced in pain as blood began to spill from the wound. His pain tolerance seemed to have jumped immensely after coming to this world because despite how acute his senses were, and how aware he was of the injury, he only felt a faint sense of worry.
Beings with a Master Class physical form have decently strong natural regenerative abilities. Dragons, even Myyr Dragons, a lesser offshoot, have very strong regenerative properties. These combined meant that his injury was already attempting to scab over, just seconds after he made the cut.
Dorian frowned when he saw this, cutting himself again, and this time forcing his blood to spatter over the tree branches.
Several seconds passed as he watched, dispassionately, as the branches gradually took on a reddish tint. Soon they began to emit a very faint, crimson glow.
As soon as he saw this Dorian stepped back, allowing his injuries to start healing. He felt slightly lightheaded at the blood loss but was otherwise fine.
The tree branches began to writhe, the red glow becoming stronger. They visibly grew thicker, worming and writhing in unnatural, faintly disturbing movements.
As they writhed, gradually the figure of a human being came into view. A man with a slim, handsome face and piercing blue eyes, though a face that was now quite pale. He appeared to be unconscious. Gradually his head and shoulders appeared above the branches before stopping, the healing magic continuing to work on the other injured parts of his body.
"My deepest thanks, young dragon." The old man's voice echoed in Dorian's ears as the man floated forward, looking down at the tree branch cocoon. His body seemed to be shifting, pieces of it drifting off.
The man turned to look at Dorian and then raised a hand to his head, tapping it with a finger. Instantly an inch wide ball of light appeared. He gave a smooth bow.
"This contains the information I have of the treasure found in the ruins, specifically in the Ember Gorge. This stash of treasure will not be easy to claim, but for someone of your capabilities, you should be able to handle it. I discovered it just a few years before my death, finding several clues I needed in my journey to reach Ascension. Alas…" Horhavil's voice was tired as he spoke, regret filling his voice.
'Ausra, what is it?' He asked, just to be safe. The old man hadn't lied to him yet, but it was better to be safe.
'A small orb of energy and essence, extracted from a soul in the midst of dissipation. Something like this would be used in the transfer of information or memories.' Ausra's voice in his mind confirmed that it was what it was.
Dorian accepted the orb, letting it float into his hand. As soon as he did, he felt a flood of information pour into his mind. Information about a mysterious mountain range and a large canyon, fraught with peril and danger, on another world.
He pushed that aside for the moment, however, focusing on what was happening in front of him.
"Ah, young Wizard." The old man began, looking down at the wooden branches, his voice filled with sorrow.
"I wish I could stay longer, to talk with you more. Alas, my soul is but minutes from perishing. From life to life, from death to death, the Cycle continues, unabated." The ghostly old man folded his hands together. Gradually, the golden ball of light that floated at the center of his body began to crack, minuscule particles floating off into the air.
These particles slowly formed into a writhing river, flowing towards the head of the unconscious Wizard.
Dorian watched it all with interest. The processed went on smoothly, the golden ball of light gradually growing smaller and smaller.
Abruptly, however, the body of the injured Wizard began to shake, his mouth twitching. Odd noises emerged from his throat, keening echoes.
"No!" The old man's voice was weak as he yelled out, his eyes widening.
"What's happening?" Dorian stepped forward, his eyes alert. At his core, Dorian tried to be a good person. His father, back on earth, had always told him that the most important choices you made were the ones that no would be there to see.
Maybe he couldn't be the same easygoing nice guy from earth anymore, but that didn't mean he would abandon his moral standards.
Since he had already committed to helping, and found out it was possible to help at all, he would go all the way. That was simply who he was, regardless of whether or not it would be the decision that benefited him most.
"His soul is serving as a receptacle, and taking in the root of my experience and knowledge. His body, however, is rejecting the magic and changes, causing him to undergo Discordancy, a rejection between the body and soul." Horhavil quickly explained, staring at the trembling Wizard,
"His soul has been baptized with the laws of magic several times, but his body isn't recognizing that my inheritance isn't an attack, and is actively resisting." The ghostly Wizard seemed to wring his hands, an odd sight.
"Do you want me to try and knock him unconscious?" Dorian asked. Perhaps if the man was forced to be completely unconscious it would force his body to accept the change.
"If his body does not calm down and accept the changes, he will die. Physically forcing him into unconsciousness like that would disturb his mind." The old man's voice was quiet and small as he sighed to himself.
"Alas." He shook his head slowly, his eyes cast downward. Gradually, the particles around him began to tremble, as if he was about to truly vanish.
Dorian looked at the situation and frowned. An idea abruptly came into his head. He realized he had a way to resolve this. But the sheer coincidence of his method caught him off guard for a moment.
"I twist Fate with my soul now, eh? Is this a part of that too?" He said aloud as he stepped forward, still frowning.
The old Wizard that was about to dissipate paused, watching Dorian in confusion.
"I have an idea that might work. You said physically knocking him out won't cut it, right?" Dorian responded, turning to glance at the elderly wizard.
The Wizard simply nodded.
"What if I use a calming sedative?" In Dorian's mind a message popped up.
-Brown Treasure Clam (Growth Stage 2/2) Venom-
Stored Amount: 63 mL
The venom he had stored several days ago was from a mystical creature with unique ties to fate. Further, it was a type of venom that acted as a sedative. There wasn't much of it, so it would only last for a few brief minutes at most, but it should be enough.
Dorian willed this venom to appear, following the instructions Ausra had told him about it. Gradually, his claws began to take on a sheen, tipped with the sedative.
"Yes… yes! That could work, young dragon!" The old Wizard clapped his hands together, his form that appeared to be on the brink of vanishing all of a sudden gaining new vibrancy.
"Quickly please!" Haste appeared in the fading old man's voice as he motioned, almost begging.
Dorian stepped forward and carefully placed his claws at the neck of the shaking man, trying to not accidentally stab him. Ever so slightly, he pierced the skin of the man's neck lightly, drawing a small line of blood.
At the same time, he felt the venom in his claws flow forward, into the man. It vanished in an instant, fully absorbed.
A few seconds later, the man calmed down, his body returning back to normal. As this happened, the golden river of light particles continued to flow into his head, smoothly and without error.
As Dorian stepped back, he heard a grateful voice call out,
"Young dragon, I cannot thank you enough. If I had more treasures to give, I would. All I have left are insubstantial things, the rest was destroyed or taken from my body." The floating old man looked at him with eyes glinting brightly.
Dorian shook his head, saying simply,
"It's fine. It was the right thing to do."
A silent moment passed between them, and then another. Soon that moment became a minute, and then two. Eventually, the river of golden particles finished flowing into the resting man, and all was done. The fading figure of the old wizard studied him one last time.
"As I pass from this world, let me give you one last gift, as my last thanks to you." The man's voice began to fade, becoming quieter than a whisper.
"The reverberations in Fate your soul gives off will fade, gradually, in a week or two. I can help you hide them for a day, maybe two. The rest is up to you, young dragon. Good fortune to you, and may the Cycle continue, unabated…" A few, faint white particles drifted and landed on Dorian. He shivered, feeling as if he had been dunked in a vat of cold water.
He blinked, and the instant later, as he opened his eyes, he realized he was alone.
The figure of that old mage was gone.
"So goes the last of the Wizard Horhavil Candor…" Dorian muttered quietly, bowing his head silently in respect.
After a few moments, he turned, looking down at the young looking Wizard who was just now coming awake.
"AHHH!"
..
William Robel felt horrible. His head felt cramped and crowded, full of pain. His body felt as if it had been dragged alongside a wagon for days, beaten and bruised. His only consolation was the warm, flowing feeling he felt, wrapping around his injured form, healing him.
He came to gradually. As he did, the memories of the past day rushed into his tired mind.
The battle for that odd, dancing dragon, the vicious attack he had suffered from those vile Vampires, and now his apparent abandonment by the Department Wizards, and even his own Family guards. He had no memory of what happened after he was injured, smacked back by the attack, but he was almost certain that they had thrown him aside and fled.
Those Vampires seemed like bad news. He wasn't sure if even that Black Lightning Wizard could handle them.
He bared his teeth and clenched his fists, feeling humiliated and angry. At least he was still alive, however.
After a few seconds, he managed to blink, and slowly opened his eyes. The bright light of day blinded him as he looked around. Almost immediately his heart dropped as he saw a hulking, 3 meter tall dragon standing right in front of him.
"AHHH!" Involuntarily, he let out a scream. As he did so, another rush of memories came into his mind.
Memories of an odd, conversation with a strange old man, a man who talked to him about giving him an inheritance of magic. He abruptly realized that this conversation was one that had actually happened as he felt at his soul.
In his soul, the orb of white light that represented him and his Soul Spell Matrix, William could feel what appeared to be a second Soul Spell Matrix, floating next to his own. This matrix, however, was merely a pale copy, a poor comparison, to his original one. Still, within this matrix, he could sense a vast store of memories and experiences, from a wizened, kindly old man.
Tears began to stream down his face as he realized what the elderly wizard had done for him. Giving someone an inheritance like this was supposed to be an intimately sacred ritual, reserved for your closest kin. To give up an inheritance to a complete stranger like him… it was practically unheard of.
Mentally, he made a promise that he would not waste it. He would give up his mediocre Wood Magic, and immediately train the old man's, no, the esteemed, Horhavil Candor's, Light Magic.
As these memories continued to come into him, he realized that the dragon in front of him had helped save his life. He'd managed to regain some of his consciousness after some time in his healing spell, and had overheard their conversation. And, he realized, despite its hulking form, that it was somehow the same as the small dragon they had tried to capture, and failed to, before.
He looked up in confusion, not understanding. What exactly had happened after he fell unconscious? How much time had passed?
"Um… hello." He sputtered out.
As he spoke, he realized he couldn't move yet. He winced as he tried to, feeling his body shake in pain. The healing spell he had cast earlier was still active, though now flowing with a vibrant, full power that he couldn't replicate. The part the dragon had given to help save his life.
"You should stay still for now. You're still healing." The dragon's voice was smooth and sibilant, full of strong, powerful confidence. William shivered as he heard it, glancing at the beautiful green scales on the drake. He noticed a small, still-healing scar on the head of the dragon, oddly in the shape of one of the dragon's claws, as if it had stabbed itself. He shook the thought from his head, however, knowing no dragon would be so foolish.
William was a mess of emotions as he stared up at the dragon. Anger and hurt at being abandoned by his companions, joy and surprise at still being alive, thankfulness and happiness at having been given an inheritance. The fear he felt faded away as he looked at the beast, just wanting to know one thing.
"Why did you save me? The rewards that Wizard offered, you and I both know they would be worth little to a Dragon like yourself. Magic Herbs thrive in these mountains, and even if he has some extremely rare ones, it shouldn't be too big a difference."
His voice carried a strange passion, full of emotion. This was something he needed to know. He didn't know why, he just knew he needed to know this, even if it cost him his life. He felt oddly compelled.
..
Dorian shrugged as he looked down at the injured human, thinking his question over and responding,
"I guess because it felt like the right thing to do." If he could do something to help, he would. Maybe if he thought his actions would achieve nothing, he wouldn't have tried to save the Wizard.
But knowing that he could… Besides, the reward wasn't as small as the injured Wizard was making it out to be. Having around 200 Magic Herbs stored with him was definitely substantially useful for when he left this area, and the information on that treasure stash was extremely alluring.
Also, there was a chance he could gain information about the men tracking him from the injured man, and about the world around him.
"What?!" The Wizard below him struggled in shock, his face flushing.
"I'm your enemy! I tried to capture you! I even helped lead them to you." As the Wizard spoke, his voice's pitch went up, sputtering,
"If you were smart, you would kill me right now! How do you know I won't lead them to you again?!" Dorian caught an odd tone in the man's voice, one that made him choose his response carefully.
Dorian looked at the still healing Wizard, taking a moment to think.
It was true. This was a brutal world. It was kill or be killed. By leaving this man alive, he might be bringing himself problems in the future.
The smart thing to do would be to kill him, here and now, and silence this issue. He could even absorb his bloodline and create a human body if he so chose. Maybe somehow steal that inheritance, even without receiving whatever magic soul baptism the Wizard said he needed. There was a chance, anyway.
But, would he regret doing that? As the thought touched his mind, he felt himself come to a certain inner peace.
He had decided he would live without regrets in this world.
It wasn't the wisest or most logical decision to let this Wizard go.
Perhaps it was even a mistake.
In his Red Salamander form, the Wizard had tried to attack him, thinking he was just a stray wild beast. In his draconic form, he had tried to capture him. At the least, they weren't on friendly terms.
Despite that, Dorian felt like the man wasn't a bad type. Maybe others would call him a fool for this, but he didn't care.
"I don't know that you won't lead them to me." Dorian began, shaking his head, his eyes glinting,
"But I will live how I choose to live, and not a damn thing in this universe will change that. Maybe I don't have the strength, right now, to back those words up." His mind went to his father, the greatest man he knew, and what he would do in a situation like this,
"But one day I will. What kind of huma-ahem, what kind of Dragon would I be, if I didn't live up to what I believed in?" He looked down at the young Wizard, and then smiled,
"I'm a Dragon with principles, after all." He smiled wider.
"But… but…?!" The Wizard sputtered at him in disbelief.
"No buts." Dorian's eyes lit up as inspiration struck,
"Life is about the bare necessities, young Wizard." He said, nodding his head sagely, "The simple bare necessities. Just forget about your worries and your strife."
"Now, enough of that. Before we part ways here, would you mind answering a few questions I have about this world?"
