A Dragon Idol's Reincarnation Tale

The Folschreck Empire.

The empire of humans goes by many names: The Defenders of the East, The Bulwark of Light, The Eastern Empire, The Home of the Holy Emperor of Light, The Great Evida Empire, and so many more. Having either consolidated or vassalized all the human countries on the continent of Altrust, it goes without saying that the Folschreck Empire is the single greatest human-ruled land in the current era.

Despite being almost on the most western part of the continent, both of the remnants of the Leosfalt Kingdom — the Kingdoms of Artorias and Atadoro — have pledged themselves to the Emperor. As both kingdoms have not been merged completely into the empire just yet, the power to rule over these lands was left autonomous from the empire in exchange for routine tributes and a levy of soldiers for the continuous war against both the beastman alliance Carmaniate and the demonkin kingdom Bole’Taria.

Even for Artorias, a human country ruled by arvisians, the decision to become a vassal was their only logical option. The newly-founded kingdom was still rebuilding after the War for the Faefolk and the civil war which divided the Leosfalt kingdom. Without an alliance with the elves, the dwarves, or the dragonewts, Artorias had no choice but to ally themselves with the other human countries and kingdoms. Otherwise, they’d be left surrounded by enemy and neutral countries.

After all, it would have been too easy for the Kingdom of Atadoro to persuade the Holy Capital Aureolis to denounce the young kingdom of Artorias. Although the arvisian king of Artorias was a [Prince], thus ensuring himself a legitimate claim by divine right, the divine authority of the Pope of the Church of Aurena and military prowess of the Holy Emperor of Light would have stomped Artorias if they hadn’t bent the knee to Folschreck.

Thankfully, Artorias did not need to sacrifice much except for tributes in the form of wealth and soldiers. As the Folschreck Empire couldn’t keep an iron hand over both their own lands and those of their vassals, countries and kingdoms not included in the initial lands conquered by the first and second Emperor were left to their own devices.

However, control and inspections were still needed to prevent sudden insurrections, for a giant like the Empire of Man was more prone to breaking apart internally than against its foes. To maintain the Emperor’s control, an order known as the Lycerepth was founded to send its agents, the Lycerepthors, to flush out potential coup d’etats or rebellions against the empire. Guarded by mighty Lycerittern and trained since their childhoods, Lycerepthors were usually the empire’s representatives in the land of its vassals.

And on this day, another Lycerepthor Judge has arrived in the western lands of Altrust.

The moon had shone snow-white during this night; hours passed and the darkness in the sky was banished by the dawn. Cold winds guided the wings of the seagulls as they flew over the ocean, while underneath them sailed a mighty carrack of the empire, redesigned from the levianewt version for human use.

Constructed with sturdy wood, this ship vessel was similar to an Earthen carrack, although it was longer and had two serpentine wood parts on the port and starboard sides of the ship, flowing from the stern to the figurehead. There was also a magic symbol etched on the port side of the ship’s hull, depicting the tentacles of a kraken swallowing an orb. This was Plesia’s symbol, a mark enchanted by a depth’s priest to ward off sea creatures.

Recreated using Caedhul’s, the Maritime Republic of Plesia’s patron races, technology, this ship was now guided by the figurehead of a scarab, a creature native to the Great Evida desert inside the Folschreck Empire. Without a doubt, this ship belonged to the empire.

“Land ho!” the ship’s lookout cried out as the sight of a port came into view.

Seamen, members of the lowest ranking position in a crew’s hierarchy, were already awake and preparing the necessities to land the vessel. Some only wore simple, ragged clothing with just enough protection against the cold winds to keep them warm and able, while others had a large magic symbol covering their forehead. This symbol was a blue glowing runic tattoo, depicting an eye with a gavel and khopesh inside a cage. The mark of a slave belonging to the Lycerepth.

Regardless if they were freemen or slaves, a seaman was treated the same. With no time to dawdle under the sleepy eyes of the ship’s third mate, the crew was preparing for landing. Although a merchant’s ship, this vessel was not only transporting valuable spices and exotic ingredients, but also three prominent personages were currently preparing themselves for landing.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Three knocks were made against an ornamental door, reserved for rooms dedicated to VIP passengers. No answer was given to a man in an officer’s jacket, however, he stood there patiently, as if he knew what the noises behind the door were meant to be. Eventually, his patience was rewarded. The door opened, revealing a man dressed in an Arabic warrior’s garbs.

His armor shone with a magical aura, brimming with all the enchantments it could handle. An unsheathed khopesh was hanging from his waist, a shield was strapped on his left arm, and a bow with a quiver was strapped across his back. He was holding onto a two-handed scimitar with his face mostly covered up by a cowl, glaring at the officer with brown eyes.

“Yes?” the stoic warrior greeted the man. Nothing more, nothing less.

Gulping from the fighter’s presence, the officer kept his nerves together as he spoke. “We will be making land soon. Please, prepare Saintess Eshe for the arrival.” With a single nod, the warrior confirmed the information and closed the door before the officer after giving his thanks. With the door closed, he turned around towards the two women behind him.

One was a warrior just like him, clad in the same enchanted armor, although she wielded a spear in hand, with a pair of khopeshes sheathed at her sides as well as a bow across her back. Sitting on a chair next to her, the second woman had dark brown skin and was wearing a white-red robe with golden decorations, fit for only a white-robed shrine maiden of Aurena. Wearing both an ornamented amulet of Aurena and a gemstone headpiece with her sleek blond hair, she smiled as she looked at her two guards.

“Saintess Eshe, we will arrive soon. I presume Lady Anivh has finished your preparations?” the male warrior spoke to his mistress.

“Yes, Sir Alikar. I have been anticipating our arrival since yesterday. I would not dare waste anybody’s time,” the woman named Eshe answered graciously, acting pleasantly but with a hint of impatience betraying her true feelings.

“Shall we go to the deck, My Lady?” Anivh, the warrior woman standing next to Eshe suggested.

“Yes, my loyal knights. I wish to speak with the Imperial Alchemist and the Judge before we reach the port. We mustn’t waste our time; our objective is Griffonpeak.”

While the Empire was a wide land, it’s emperor was blessed by Aureolis’s leaders. To protect this land, several orders of the Knights of Aurena were constructed through the land to serve the church’s and, by extension, the empire’s needs. Although the quality of knights guarding a church might differ, the ones guarding a saint or saintess would always be of high quality.

With the ornamented door opening, two knights and a saintess of Aurena departed to the deck. Cold winds greeted them as they witnessed the rising sun, to which Eshe gave a silent prayer. After wishing her goddess a good morning, her knights guided the priestess towards two quarreling men: one was a caucasian with a brown beard while the other had dark grey skin and long, sharp ears.

“Ahh, Saintess Eshe, I wish you a beautiful DarkDay, My Lady. May my honored God, Marsven, guide you through the darkness today, let none of the shadow’s taint blight your white soul.” An elven man in pristine garments greeted the saintess with a flamboyant bow, acting the very aspect of a gentleman in front of the soft smiling woman.

“I wish you a wondrous DarkDay too, Imperial Alchemist Krymdar. May the gods protect us as we step foot on land once again.” A follower of Marsven and a Saintess of Aurena were speaking, but neither of them showed any animosity during their greetings. On the other hand, the brown bearded man could only scoff at the elven man.

“You, dark elf! How can you speak such heresy in front of a saintess of the Goddess! If you weren’t an imperial alchemist, I would have you answer to the Lycerepth! Remember this, elf, your kind is not welcomed in the holy land of the Goddess, so speak less of your misguided god and us Folschrecks might just tolerate your pitiful interference!” He then turned towards Eshe and gave her an extravagant bow. “Saintess Eshe, the Lycerepth shall prepare for your safe travels. Allow us to protect you with the assistance of your knights.”

Eshe gave a short confirmation, accepting the man’s offer, “Thank you, Judge Pestrodus. I have full faith the Lycerepth will guide me through the land safely. The goddess will without a doubt light our path forward.”

Judge Pestrodus of the Lycerepth, having heard the saintess accept his services, bowed once again before bidding his leave. He gave Krymdar one last glare before leaving to command the lycerittern, the knights belonging to the Lycerepth. Krymdar, on the other hand, couldn’t care less whether Pestrodus kept on spouting his harsh words or left for whatever duties he had to do. To the elf, Prestrodus was nothing more than a dull, unimaginative human.

He then turned back to Eshe, a reserved smile on his face as he spoke with one of the saints of Aurena. “How fares the weather, Lady Saintess? This is your first trip outside the desert of Evida, so make sure you are properly dressed for the more temperate climate. Most southerners cannot handle the temperature change.”

“I will survive with the clothes the children made for me, please do not worry about me, Sir Krymdar. Sir Alikar, Lady Anivh, will you two be fine?” Eshe turned her head around to her stoic-looking knights.

Alikar spoke first. “We will have no issue fulfilling our duties, My Lady.”

Followed by Anivh. “We have added the necessary enchantments and runic tattoos to stave off the cold, Saintess Eshe. There is no reason to worry about our combat effectiveness.”

Eshe nodded, happy to hear her companions were as capable as always. She then turned back to Krymdar. “Saelariel is your homeland, correct? It should be close to the Kingdom of Artorias. Do you miss it, Sir Krymdar?”

“Of course, my family is there. Duty calls for me to become an imperial alchemist of the Folschreck Empire to keep watch of human actions, but it does mean I am separated from the beautiful lands of my ancestor for an extended time.” Krymdar then turned around, watching land closing into his view. “As planned, we will first make land in the Kingdom of Rakatheen for Lycerepth and your saintess business. There will be two more countries before we can reach Artorias, so please be aware we won’t make it to Griffonpeak before spring comes. Maybe not even until SpringBloom.”

SpringBloom… hopefully we can make it there before then. I would hate it if I missed Goddess Aurena’s new champion when she visited the capital of the Kingdom of Artorias. Eshe thought, remembering the meeting she had with Goddess Aurena just last month, informing all the saints and champions of the Goddess of Light of the birth of her newest champion, Hestia. Eshe, having already made plans to travel to the western part of Artorias, volunteered to speak with this new champion. To fully represent their goddess, it was paramount that all saints and champions understood each other’s duties.

The Goddess has given me the task to teach her. Hestia Atsuko, a crimson-haired dragonewt, a mighty Kargryxmor in disguise.

Let us meet soon, Lady Hestia. May the Goddess guide our path with her light, so we may meet, Champion.

It was time for the empire to enter the stage.

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Why did I not speak back? Why did I submit?

Foolish. Foolish.

Traditions? Why must I stay away from my egg just to present myself to the other dragons? Most already know, most saw me evolve. Why must I listen to those weaklings, why did I tuck my tail to please Eltharion?

Why did I become complacent at the final step? No matter how strong my child will become, as an egg, my baby would be weak. Fragile. I did the one thing I vowed never to do.

“The courier is a mighty warrior, he had transported all our children safely through land, sky, and sea. Your egg is safe in his claws” Those were the words of the five empresses of the Dragon Emperor Eltharion. Tradition dictated, as established by Eltharion when he had his first egg, that all Kargryxmor eggs should be presented to the allies of the Dragon Empire Kargryx. Once the mother’s mana had created a warm aura around the egg, it was time for the imperial transporter to fulfill his duty.

A dragon as old as Eltharion himself, this transporter had successfully brought every Kargryxmor egg back home ever since Eltharion was crowned emperor. Even in the direst of situations, the transporter had never failed. The words of the empresses weren’t filled with venom nor falsehood, for they were born proud of their strength. Lies were for the weak, pitiful beings beneath their scaly legs.

Melloxtressa bowed to their wishes for this reason alone. Nevertheless, this blind faith had caused her the greatest source of grief ever since the day her father and mother left them for the apotheosis of Kargryxmor. Her unhatched child, her egg, her chance to become a mother was lost during this traditional custom.

The news of the death of the transporter and the loss of her egg crushed Melloxstressa, she raged out against the other empresses as they kept spouting she needed to stay and fulfill her duty as the sixth empress of Kargryx. “Your egg will be found, do not worry,” they kept reassuring her but her instincts had roused. That was when Eltharion himself intervened.

Melloxtressa was the second SS rank dragon of the era, she was far stronger than the other empresses; however, fighting against all five of them together was foolish, even for Melloxtressa. Their bloodlines were potent, and when the aged warrior Eltharion came in to stop Melloxtressa, the silver dragon could do nothing but submit to their power.

It became Melloxtressa’s greatest regret. Her vow, to never give birth to an egg before becoming one of the strongest creatures on Peolynca, was fulfilled, but all she did was dedicate herself to fighting different kinds of monsters inside the largest dungeon in Kargryx. Eltharion, although having become lazy over the years, was still a formidable dragonslayer. He had slain all his siblings with his own hands, never leaving this job to any of his subordinates. Even discounting his brothers and sisters, he had the experience of slaying myriads of other dragons.

To a Kargryxmor, battle was everything. [Battle Frenzy], harnessed to its fullest potential, allowed any Kargryxmor to go beyond what their body would allow. When this nostalgic effect reactivated, Eltharion became the Dreaded Black Destroyer once again, for his mind and body would be resharpened from the memories of his old battles. Melloxtressa was nothing against this monster.

I… am not the strongest. God Kargryxmor, I have broken my oath, I have shamed you… I have failed as a mother.

What meaning is there left for my life? My one goal, my one goal. My child, I am so, so sorry. I robbed you of your chance for a life with my arrogance.

A dragon mother would inject their mana around their egg to prevent minor to moderate damage to their egg. It also included the ability to maintain an optimal temperature for the egg. However, this mana required the mother to refill it. Melloxtressa injected enough mana into her egg to last a while, but without a doubt in her mind, this mana must have dissipated a long time ago.

The egg… did not have enough time to reinforce its shell. Without the aura it would… oooh, my baby…

Melloxtressa cave was once filled with trinkets and decorations she gained from her days outside Kargryx. Following her father’s footprints, she and her brother both traveled the world like the modern era’s dragon adolescents. Although never too conspicuous, they still brought many treasures to her home. Her brother, especially, found the greatest treasure of his life in the form of his wife.

Nowadays, after the news, Melloxtressa’s cold, silvery scales had coated her lair in an icy, thick hide of sparkling ice. Like diamond dust, her home looked like a fortress of winter. Silver dragons were relatives of the more common white and ice dragons, and Melloxtressa inherited this very icy power from her relatives. With her evolution into an SS rank, Melloxtressa was a walking ice age, a natural calamity able to destroy any civilization on Altrust.

It was just unfortunate that in her current state, she was merely crumbling away. A husk of an over 3500-year-old dragon. It almost seemed like this would be her future going for-

[“Empress Melloxtressa!”] Telepathy. Draconic was commonly used by younger dragons to communicate, as it allowed them to fully express their explosive emotions. On the other hand, the majority of aged dragons preferred using [Telepathy], as it was faster and required less energy. In this very moment where Melloxtressa was trapped in a perpetual circle of depression, a telepathic message suddenly broke this monotony.

However, this silver dragon had little left to motivate herself. These words bounced off her. She did not register anybody’s voice.

[“Empress Melloxtressa!”] A white-scaled dragonewt came rushing into the silver dragon’s lair, his wings flapping so rapidly he had trouble controlling his flight. In his hand was a single letter. [“We found her! We found her! The clan has finally found your daughter! The princess was found!”]

Her neck snapped towards the dragonewt with the speed of light, rocking her whole lair like thunder from the sound alone. Mana mist exploded from her body, diffusing into her whole home like a smokescreen. Once all of it disappeared, all that was left was a silver-haired elven woman dressed in a one-piece dress composed solely of her scales. Tears frozen into ice drops were dripping down her silky skin.

“Hic. Hie-hic.” Her eyes were unable to stop the flood of emotions going through her body, now reignited through the words she heard. [“Please, do not lie to me, child.”] She reached her hand forward, begging the young dragonewt that this glimmer of hope was not in vain. When she received the already opened letter, her hands trembled as she slowly took the piece of parchment from its envelope, uninterested that Yorshka was the sender.

‘Dear Lady Melloxtressa, I will jump right to the point, we have found the lost princess. She is safe and healthy in the continent of Altrust, surrounded by friends and allies. Although, there are more difficult details I will reveal later, I wish to reveal something important first. Your daughter, a beautiful mutant fire dragon with scales of crimson and scale powder similar to us Nordors, is alive. In the time she was gone, she has named herself in your stead. Her name is Hestia Atsuko Kargryxmor.”

“Hestia!” The wintery layers of diamond dust all shined simultaneously as this single name was uttered from Melloxtressa’s mouth. Without any other command, almost like magic, the powder shot back into Melloxtressa’s body. As if she was absorbing them, the snow in her lair quickly disappeared, revealing the beautiful decorations of her home once again.

Melloxtressa’s skin slowly regained a pinkish color as her scales shined so brightly again like a million polished blades. The ice drops, thawed by the beat of her heart, melted back into tears. “Hestia. Hestia. Hestia,” she kept repeating, causing her eyes to fully open the floodgates. Holding onto the letter, she lost all strength in her knees and collapsed on the ground.

She continued reading through all the tears. She learned of Hestia’s status as a reincarnator, as an otherworldly who retained most of her memories from a previous life. She read how she was more mature than a year-old dragon whelp due to her memories, wishing so desperately she could have been there for Hestia. She learned of the struggles Hestia had to face to become a B rank sunfang dragon, blaming herself for how Hestia had to face these trials despite the oath she made for herself.

I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I should have been there. Your mom should have been there! I should have been there to defend you! This was my duty!

She read through Yorshka’s description of Saori, Tasianna, and Ellaine, and praised them for being there for her child, happy that her daughter had found valuable allies to protect her. She cackled in disappointment at how her daughter was learning how to fly and utilize her scale-dust without her supervision. She was conflicted. All of this was good news, but something in her heart was still yearning for more.

I wanted to be there when you did all of this!

“Hurgh-hic-hic.” Tears slowly created puddles under Melloxtressa, and her voice cracked as she tried to control her elven body’s continuous snot-producing functions. Her elven ears wiggled from joy. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this happy. Was it when she reached S rank’s maximum level? Or was it the day she gave birth to her egg?

It didn’t matter.

When she finished Yorshka’s letter, her tears were wiped away by her dragonewt attendant. [“She is in Artorias. My precious everything is in Artorias. Where is it?”] Nothing was stopping Melloxtressa anymore. No rules. No traditions. Nothing but physics itself.

The dragonewt nodded before giving out a type of call in Draconic. In responce to the call, two snow-white scaled wyverns appeared in her lair. [“They know the way; these wyverns shall lead you, Empress Melloxtressa.”]

Icicle gust created from her silver powder was created by Melloxtressa, helping her stand up. This powder then surrounded her like wings of ice, covering her up like a veil. She looked into the wyvern’s eyes, seeing the anxiety in them before they both bowed their heads. Their mouths opened up, releasing an amalgamation of cries.

‘We failed to bring the Princess back! We fought her and lost! We raised our claws against her! We-We-’ These were the snow wyverns who were once assigned to aid Astalos, the wyvern tasked by the God of Dragon, Kargrxymor, to bring Hestia before Kargrxmor. They were Hestia’s enemies due to a misunderstanding, but they were now tasked to safely bring Yorshka’s letter to the matriarch of the Nordor clan.

“Kriarh krashie kars kra klasha.” (Enough, the trip will be long. Tell me everything during our flight, children.)

Melloxtressa’s emotions were in turmoil, but she was an old dragon of over 3500 years in the body of an elf. She was able to repress her emotions, staying cool-headed as she handled these wyvern children; at least, children relative her own age. She knew the situation with her daughter was special, something she needed a clear mind to deal with.

My daughter… I wanted to name you myself but... Hestia, it is a wonderful name. Please, wait for me.

On that day, the SS rank [Diamond-Powder Fimbulvetr Dragon] unleashed her silvery wings once more for the sky to see. Her destination: The Human Kingdom, Artorias.

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Now, the question is, when did all of this happen?

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