Path of Dragons - A LitRPG Apocalypse (BOOK TWO STUBBING AUGUST 15)

Kaelari es Ignara was confident.

Her entire life had been building toward this moment, when she would prove herself worthy of her clan’s legacy.

Ignara, the first of her name. The founder of the clan that bore her name. She had burned with the fire of a thousand suns, eventually giving her life in a galaxy-spanning battle against a powerful drachnid and the vespiran army that controlled it. She had emerged from that battle victorious, but the price was a slow withering that eventually robbed her of the ability to keep her core contained.

She had retreated to the stars, where she had exploded into a supernova that was still visible in the skies above Kaelari’s home planet. Legends said that she took an entire solar system controlled by the vespirans with her, and in doing so, helped to win the second War of Stars.

Since then, her descendants had only managed to produce a single transcendent, and he’d been lost in the abyss for eons. Presumably, he was still alive, but the battle against the Ravener’s forces continued to rage, preventing him from returning to the dimension of his birth.

Kaelari intended to find her uncle, one day. She’d never met him, of course. But she had seen thousands of projections he’d left behind. Recordings of lessons he intended to help usher in the next generation of powerful Clan Ignara fighters. Kaelari had experienced every single one of them, and so often that she’d memorized his every mannerism. She knew every word by heart, and she’d internalized the lessons until they had begun to encapsulate her very being.

Alrhok thought she was insane.

So did many of the others. Sometimes, Kaelari thought it of herself. She was well aware of how different she was. Everyone in Clan Ignara was dedicated. They were all devoted to self-improvement. But their commitment paled next to the fire of Kaelari’s belief that she would one day become the clan’s third transcendent.

However, that very dedication had turned her into an outcast. Her peers weren’t malicious. They attempted friendliness, if only because she was a member of the main family, and not just one of the branches. Yet, she spent so much time in her quest to master the flame that she grew awkward around those who wished to befriend her. Social situations, rare though her attendance was, usually saw Kaelari trying to fade into the background where no one would notice her.

And it worked.

So often, she’d ended up standing idly by, silently listening with one ear, while her mind remained on her studies.

That had all changed in the Academy.

Or rather, in her final year when she met Saraalinisa es Vyrin. The young and rambunctious dragon was incorrigible, and she’d latched onto Kaelari the second they’d met. Since then, Sara had pushed her so far out of her comfort zone that she scarcely recognized herself.

That was just the beginning, but then, Sara had introduced her to her adopted brother, Elijah Hart es Vyrin. The second she’d laid eyes on him, Kaelari knew he was different. Odd, certainly, in manner, dress, and demeanor. But he was kind in a way that dragons rarely were, and he was one of the few people she’d ever met that could rival her own power.

More than rival. He was stronger than her. Unequivocally, even though he had barely even breached the realm of demi-gods. And that excited Kaelari. Not because she was one of those scale-chasers who wanted to improve their situation by latching onto a powerful dragon. Rather, it intrigued her because of what it represented – a friend who could keep up with her.

Once, she’d thought Alrhok would always be there, but after what had happened in that Primal Realm, he’d lost his nerve. Likely, he’d never even reach deity. And if he did, it wouldn’t be as a combatant.

She didn’t blame him, but Kaelari was still disappointed. She lamented the loss of her only real friend.

Sure, Piki was there. So was Morin. But both were middling talents, at best. She loved them both, but an impartial assessment said that the pair were destined for mediocrity. For dragons, that still meant they would have plenty of strength. They would be deities, and they would likely fight on the front lines of one of the ongoing wars. Maybe they’d even enter the abyss, seeking glory and progression.

But even if they found one fortuitous encounter after another, they would never be more than good. Never great. And certainly never transcendent.

Until she’d met Elijah, she had expected to spend most of the rest of her life alone. Surrounded by people. Perhaps even ones she cared about. But without an equal. Without someone with whom she could share everything.

Elijah represented that, which left her as breathless and giddy as a love-struck ascendent.

He was also handsome and so delightfully different than anyone she’d ever meet. Weird, certainly. But in a charming way she couldn’t quite understand. After that first meeting, she’d spent an entire night lying awake and just thinking about all the ways they could be together.

Of course, Sara hadn’t been subtle about trying to get them together. Even before Elijah had arrived, the girl had spent months extolling his virtues and telling stories of his heroism. By the time Elijah had actually arrived, Kaela had almost convinced herself that Sara’s adopted brother – her savior – didn’t even exist.

But then she’d met him, and everything had changed.

And to her absolute shock, he had taken an interest in her as well. The romance that followed was a whirlwind of emotions that she could barely even identify, much less deal with. It had left her with so many questions about what was important to her and how she wanted to achieve her goals. More than anything, those thoughts of her future now included Elijah.

Even if her parents didn’t really approve. They hadn’t outright forbidden the relationship, but that was only because they wanted to curry favor with Prosperity. If Elijah had been granted a core by anyone else, they would’ve taken drastic steps to prevent the pairing.

Even now, on the cusp of fighting the most important battle of her life, her thoughts kept drifting back to Elijah.

With a surge of willpower, she shunted those thoughts into one of the constellations in her mind. Each one featured nine stars, though they formed a variety of shapes reminiscent of the night sky of her home world. The imagery was slightly less efficient than a more uniform arrayment, but the sense of nostalgia was worth it.

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She looked up to see her attendant, Vespir, pacing back and forth as she wrung her hands. The woman had been with her since she’d achieved sapience, and she was more of a mother to Kaelari than anyone else ever had been. She’d helped her to establish her identity and to understand that she’d left the Culling behind.

Kaelari still remembered those wild years. The struggle to find food had dominated the days after hatching, but it wasn’t long before she’d been forced to defend herself against other young dragons. Or from the other wildlife. The elements.

The time a juvenile dragon spent in the Culling was variable. Some got through it in a few decades. Others took a century or more. And more than a few never attained sapience. Not because they lacked the power, but because they refused to change. Wyrms, they were called, but they were little better than beasts. Intelligent, powerful beasts, but beasts nonetheless.

Most hatchlings died during the Culling, though.

Often, Kaelari wondered if she could watch while her children fought to survive. As they died, defenseless against the violence of their world.

A needling thought told her that if things worked out with Elijah, she wouldn’t need to worry about that kind of thing. Their children wouldn’t be dragons, but that was an acceptable tradeoff against the surety of watching her hatchlings perish.

“Do you think I’m a good dragon, Vespir?” she asked suddenly.

“What? Of course you are, mistress. Why would you ask that?”

She shook her head. “No reason. Nerves, maybe.”

“You have nothing to be anxious over,” Vespir said, still wringing her clammy hands. “You are strong. You are prepared. This Skahan ak Vael will never defeat you. He does not even follow his clan’s heritage. How could he win?”

Her reasoning made sense. Draconic naming convention – at least in terms of the defining particle – was dependent on heritage. In Kaelari’s case, the es was a badge of honor, and it meant that she followed the heritage established by her clan’s founder. However, her brother had been given the ak particle because of the deviation of his class and attunement. His earth attunement dictated as much.

The same was true of Skahan ak Vael, whose white dragon clan focused on magic in its purest form. They could trace their lineage all the way back to the subject of the second core vision – a young white-scaled dragon who’d narrowly survived the schism that had shattered the first empire.

Meanwhile, Skahan followed a different heritage. Probably elemental magic, based on his performance in the tournament.

For most clans, that would’ve been close enough to earn the es particle, but the Vael’s were known for the pride of their heritage. Their clan’s planets followed a much stricter than normal delineation between the castes which barely managed to avoid illegality.

More, she knew Skahan as a petty, vindictive dragon who never missed a chance to prove his superiority. There were even rumors that he’d found himself on the wrong side of the Scales of Peace, and on more than one occasion. Nothing had ever come of those instances, but that wasn’t necessarily surprising. Such was the benefit of a family with power. The same would have been true if Kaelari somehow managed to get into trouble.

Still, she’d never personally run afoul of him.

His friends like Cyran es Caelwyn were a different story, though that was limited to cutting remarks and lewd invitations. Those had gotten worse after they’d seen her with Elijah. Anywhere else, and it probably would have ended in a fight.

“Was he out there? In the crowd?” she asked.

“He was,” Vespir answered with a small smile. “He looked quite dashing.”

Kaelari let out a laugh. “Dashing? Elijah? You must’ve seen someone else.”

Vespir shook her head, and her smile broadened. “He is handsome.”

“Oh, I agree. I just wouldn’t call him dashing,” she pointed out. “Maybe…rugged?”

“He’s too pretty for that,” Vespir said. Then, realizing that she’d spoken aloud, she clapped her hand over her mouth. “Please forget I said that, mistress!”

Kaelari just laughed. Elijah was quite handsome, especially with those emerald scales. And his body cultivation had definitely done him some favors. But she would never have called him pretty. Maybe if he shaved his beard and took care of his hair…

She shook her head. “I need to focus.”

“Yes, mistress. Best to move on.”

After that, Kaelari stood and paced back and forth until, at last, one of the Praesidium attendants arrived to tell her the time for her fight had come. Straight-backed and proud, she followed the man to the entrance to the arena, where she met with the Chronomancer. Once he created her anchor, there was nothing to do but wait.

It wasn’t long before the door opened and she stepped outside into the bright sunlight.

Instantly, her eyes settled on her opponent.

Skahan’s white scales gleamed blindingly in the harsh light.

Kaelari focused every ounce of her being on the upcoming battle. She cycled ethera through her soul, readying herself to release a truly apocalyptic spell. Meanwhile, Skahan stood casually, as if disinterested in the entire battle.

Meanwhile, the Curator introduced them, listing their accomplishments. The ones he knew, at least. Some feats were too personal to be announced before a crowd of millions.

She felt certain that less than a quarter of Elijah’s feats were public knowledge.

No – it was not the time to think of him.

She brought her mind into sharp focus, and a second later, the Curator shouted for them to begin.

Kaelari shifted her ethera, funneling it into Solar Flare. But before she could release it, she felt something wash over her. A peace she had never felt before. Her mind went blank, and the spell fell away, uncast.

Then, she was walking forward. Her hips held an exaggerated sway, and she arched her back the same way she’d seen Courtesans stand. That thought filled her with giddiness.

Her heart raced as she approached Skahan. When had he gotten so handsome?

So perfect?

So dominant?

“Kneel,” he said.

She couldn’t even speak. She thought nothing of the implications. Nothing of the watching crowd. Nothing of what her parents might think.

She fell to her knees.

“You are unworthy of this arena. Say it.”

She did.

“You are unworthy of your scales.”

She repeated the line, feeling a dense hatred for herself for falling short of her heritage. She should have been better, but she was worthless.

She said as much, unprompted.

He smiled down at her. “Good. You understand your place. Do you surrender?”

She started to answer, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she screamed against the foreign thoughts governing her actions. And somehow, she managed to break free. She screamed, hurling herself backward.

She managed to reembrace Solar Flare, but she was interrupted once again. Her mind went blank, and she tumbled to the sand.

Then came the fear.

The unmitigated terror.

It hit her like a solid thing. All those feelings she’d felt during the Culling. The desperation. The agony of weakness. The panic of being prey. The terror that came from being a small thing in a world of giants.

She smelled blood that wasn’t there. She felt teeth in the dark, closing around her neck. She tasted bile in her throat and the bitter taste of absolute terror in her heart.

Tears fell down her face.

At some point, she lost control and shifted into her draconic form. Still, she curled into a ball, incapable of moving. Incapable of thinking any thought but to hope for an end to it all.

She screamed, “Please! I surrender! Leave me be!”

But it didn’t end.

Not until Skahan approached, grabbed one of her brow ridges, and pushed her head back. A second later, a knife flashed out.

And her life bled away. Just before she succumbed, her mind broke free of the terror. Not completely. Far from it. But just enough to recognize what had happened. To see Skahan’s smug smile. To see the gloating in his expression. To lament the loss of her dignity, the shattering of her pride, and the dissolution of her future.

For no dragon could survive such a loss of reputation. Not intact.

She died knowing that she was a failure, and that was even more embarrassing than her surrender. That was even more terrifying than the result of Skahan’s mental manipulation.

In only a few moments, everything she’d worked for had ended.