Deryke Verias was not what you would call a ‘happy person’. He had joined the Dragonnaires that he had dreamed of joining since young, though not by his own will and rather by a strange series of events that he had no control over. The Dragonnaires, the legendary group of warriors that stood against the ‘Dark ones’ and had control over the ‘Dragon Souls’, a power that allows humans to become Dragons. No one was sure how they could do it as the power of the Dragon Souls was a complete mystery, even to the Dragons themselves.
The Dragonnaires themselves had kept the Dragon Souls a secret to any outside their Order, and even those within the Order only those with the ‘Soul’ knew what it was. Dracoravine, the base of the Dragonnaires, was a large and old castle that was built by the Ancient Dragons. Standing tall on a mountain in the middle of the thick forests of Dracolain, it was nearly impossible to reach from the ground and only the Dragons who could fly would be able to reach it.
For Deryke, it was not easy to get used to his new life. He had a room all to himself though it was small and empty. With only simple bed, a closet and a table, it was not anything special but to Deryke, this would be his home. The training for him started almost immediately. The leader of the ‘Red Flight’, Bryale Fiera, had taken an obvious dislike to him but it was good that he wasn’t incharge of Deryke’s training. Rather it was Bryale’s brother, Bryjon.
Unlike the ‘Red Wing’, Bryjon was a much more easy-going person. He did not seem to be as fierce as his brother but the training was easy either. However, he was a man of equally large build as his brother, and it was hard to guess how did they get to such a size unless they had giant’s blood within them. But that was not possible as Deryke was told that only humans could be Dragonnaires.
“To train yourself to master the ‘Soul’, you must first train the body.”
Was what Bryjon said before sending Deryke on various training tasks that included running around the castle, cleaning the different floors and going up and down the mountain peak that was behind the castle. It was more of a torture to Deryke but Bryjon did not think so.
“Put your back into it! The castle will not clean itself!”
“W-what does cleaning have to do with training? !”
“Nothing! So just clean!”
“EHH? !”
“It’s not ‘Ehh’, it’s ‘cleaning’.”
Deryke had found that unlike the other Dragonnaire recruits, he had been separated and was given special training under Bryjon himself, apparently a high ranking Dragonnaire himself within the Red flight. As for why Deryke was separate from the others, he could only speculate it was due to the distrust from the Red Wing, Bryale. Given a one-on-one training by Bryjon was, in a way, a good thing, seeing as how Bryjon would be able to devote himself to teaching Deryke completely, on the other hand, it was probably a torturous form of training that could be called nothing less than ‘hell’. But it was thanks to the training that Deryke was able to understand some things about the Dragonnaires after spending a month in training.
The Order was split into two main groups. The first were the Dragonnaires themselves, beings with the Dragon Soul and were able to transform into Dragons. They were the ones incharge of the Order and were considered the main group. The second were the others who joined the Order despite not having a Dragon Soul, called ‘Dragoons’. They made up the guards, patrols, cooks, cleaners and were the largest in numbers. Deryke found out that to be part of that second group, Dragoon, special tests were needed. What the test is trying to find is not known to any but the Wings and the Dragoon Lords, the leaders of the Dragoon Order, themselves who conduct the test.
The castle of Dracoravine was, as Deryke soon found out through Bryjon, in actuality three separate castles built close together with one another, and afterwards some unknown group or person built extensions to join them as one. Thus the Dragonnaires and the Dragoons resided in different parts of the Castle. The Dragonnaire’s Castle was split in the different ‘Flights’, or colours. The ‘Red Flight’, the ‘Flight’ he was under, was at the main entrance of the Castle. The reason why the ‘Soul’ of each Dragonnaire is the same ‘colour’ as the Kingdom he or she comes from is not known, however it is known that even if a person should move away to another Kingdom, their ‘Soul’ would still remain the same.
“Yvaran, our local mad doctor, was once from the Kingdom of Brown but even though he had moved to the Kingdom of Yellow as a child, his ‘Soul’ is still Brown.”
Bryjon said as they walked down the hall together to the courtyard.
“If I may ask… the Dragonnaires, or at least those with the ‘Soul’, are all humans. I have not seen a beastman or an Elf as one. Why is that so?”
“You have a sharp eye, I will give you that. We do not know why that is so either, but it has to do with the power that flows in humans. Or maybe we’re just special.”
“… What?”
“Not ‘what’. Do you have some sort of hearing problem, boy? Okay, let’s start from the beginning. Dragons chose humans to rule beside them as they saw humans as beings who were equal and similar to themselves. Be thankful that they did not decide to choose the slimes or this entire story will be VERY different. Not to mention weird. However, there are some exceptions to that rule.”
“‘Exceptions’?”
Deryke asked, rather curious. Bryjon wanted to say more but stopped.
“… The time will come when you will know more of it.”
Deryke was not all too sure whether he would know the truth or not, but he let it go.
“… What are ‘Souls’ in the first place?”
He asked, making Bryjon raise an eyebrow.
“Do you not know?”
He shook his head in reply. What he did know probably wasn’t the right answer.
“I only know of what people outside the Order think it to be. Some sort of… special mark?”
He pondered a guess, making Bryjon laugh.
“A ‘mark’ you say? Ha ha ha! That is rich, though I suppose such a lie would work best with those outside our Order, for it is not something that all can approve of.”
“What does that mean?”
He dared to asked, though if he had to choose, he wished he didn’t have to ask. Bryjon began to explain by thumping his own chest.
“The ‘Soul’ that marks us Dragonnaires, is in here.”
“… In your chest?”
“In all of our chests, boy. When we call it a ‘Soul’, we mean it. It is a ‘Soul’, and not one that we are meant to hold.”
“You mean… we have another soul within us?”
Deryke was aware of the concept of ‘souls’ as it was written by the vestiges. That all beings hold a ‘soul’ that came from the life river, and that after death, the soul returns to the life river and the cycle renews itself. But to hold a second soul? Was that even possible?
“It is, perhaps, the reason why the ancient Dragons chose us, for humans have the capacity to hold the soul of another, in addition to our own. That soul, is the soul of a Dragon.”
“A-A Dragon??”
Deryke had to do a double take upon hearing that. How was it possible?
“Yes indeed, a great blessing from the Ancients, don’t you think? Well, try not to think too hard about it, for I myself, am uncertain of the details.”
Bryjon shrugged. To Deryke, that news was hard enough to swallow, let alone needing more details. But perhaps he needed more details, still, Bryjon looked as though he had just exhausted his entire knowledge on the subject. Perhaps it was best not to think too deeply about it, as Bryjon suggested.
“Another question. Why are we training with weapons?”
He asked, pointing to the wooden sword in his hand.
“Do you think that we Dragonnaires fight with only our teeth and claws? We cannot become Dragons to fight all the time, especially if the fighting happens indoors. Of course, each person chooses their own weapons to fight with but it is common to see a type of weapon being most used within a Flight.”
“Okay… what about the last ‘Flight’? The ‘Black Flight’? Why is it that there is no such
‘Flight’?”
He asked. Bryjon sighed, shaking his head.
“It is… a rather difficult story to tell. As you may know, the Kingdom of Black, Bahamut, is weak. They were hit the hardest during the last coming of the ‘Dark Ones’. Losing nearly everything they have, the Kingdom is now only one lone Castle and no King sits on the throne. But they are still one of the Seven and so the other Kingdoms will respect as such. During the last war, we too lost many warriors, and none the more so than the ‘Black Flight’. They were strongly protective over their Kingdom and so went before any of us could prepare.”
“They… died?”
“To protect what they still call their home, they were willing to do anything. By the time we arrived, it was too late. Their Flight Leader, the ‘Black Wing’, died of his wounds.”
“And there are no others to replace them?”
“The Kingdom of Black is in a decline, even now, and so their numbers are few. Even if we can find one with a ‘Soul’, they would never leave their home. But the chances are… we will never find another ‘Black Soul’.”
Bryjon sighed.
“What do you mean by that?”
Deryke asked.
“Although we had only fought the ‘Dark Ones’ once before, it was clear that the taint that they had left was more than what any of us can imagine. The land would be foul and no longer be able to support life and as such, it loses the blessings of the Ancients. The ‘Souls’ are a form of that blessing.”
“A blessing?”
“Ah, though I may say that, that is merely my own thoughts on it. No one is really sure where the ‘Souls’ come from.”
And that is what Bryjon would say before they started their training for the day. But for some reason, Deryke could not just let it go. He felt as though not all of the answers were given to him.
Standing by the window, she looked down to the fields below. She kept her eyes on that one young man. She was not mistaken in her thoughts that night. She knew what she saw and what she felt. But she could not tell the others what troubled her.
“Does that young man interest you so?”
She did not turn to face the person who walked up behind her. Wearing her long green robes that showed her Eastern origins from the Eastern Kingdom of Green, Shizuka Winhalla, the ‘Green Wing’ of the Green Flight, walked over beside her by the window.
“Have you come to laugh at me? Like how the others did before?”
She asked, but Shizuka merely smiled.
“Nothing like that, my dear. I do not believe Sevarn would make fun of you but I do not deny your anger towards the rest of us ‘Wings’.”
She said nothing to reply Shizuka, which made the Green Wing continue.
“But do not blind yourself to what is before you. The White Flight is one of the fewest in numbers.”
“We make up for it in our strengths.”
She said flatly.
“… I will not deny that the White Flight are strong, perhaps one of the strongest of the Flights, but do not think it will be enough. With the war with the ‘Dark Ones’ coming upon us soon, we will need to ensure that every one of the Flights are ready to fight.”
“I know that.”
She replied. Shizuka smiled a little.
“Do you really? Or has your interest in a young man made your thinking poor?”
“He has nothing to do with this.”
“If you say so.”
But Shivylie knew that there was something within Deryke Verias that made her worried. Something that she did not think she would be able to feel any more. Something that she did not want to believe to be true. She had to make sure.
Deryke knew how to clean, however to clean a whole corridor of an ancient castle? He was not sure if this was some form of punishment or whether it was simply some demonic game that people played on newcomers. No, it was a game, it had to be. He stopped after scrubbing some old stain off the floor, wiping his sweat and looking back at the corridor to somewhat-admire his hardwork. He was used to cleaning and at times was even praised for his efforts.
Of course the person praising him would usually do so in a half-joking manner, and that he was no longer of this World. Tyriousel. The haunting image of seeing his friend being eaten alive made his blood turn cold. While he wanted revenge, he knew that he would be frozen still from sheer fear if he were to face a Vel Wyvenia again. Such dread, such fear. Deryke knew not of what sort of creature could stand up to that, but then again, the Dragonnaires were created to fight them, thus he could say that the Dragonnaires could do so. And he was one of them now.
“I cannot believe you will not lend your strength!”
A voice shouted, making him turn. At the far end of the corridor, he saw Sevarn, the Blue Wing, talking with a small figure. A young girl, shorter than he was, about the same height at the Brown Wing, with long blue hair tied into a long braid that almost touched the floor. Wearing a dark grey robe, the young girl seemed to be the one who shouted the statement earlier.
“You must understand, Lady Greyvolfe. We, of the Order, do not intervene with the war of the Kingdoms.”
“Have you not aided my father in the past? What of the past battles that we have fought side-by-side?”
“We did as much as we shall be willing to do this day. Any more and we shall be seen as losing hold of our neutrality.”
“But this is the ‘Third Pillar’, The Vangrol God! You know as much as I do that he has command over Darklings!”
“He does not hold sway over the Dark creatures, Lady Greyvolfe, for no one is able to do so. He is merely using their presence to his own advantage.”
“And does that not intercede with this Order’s mission?”
Sevarn sighed at the young girl’s insistence.
“Be it as it may, The Vangrol God is still a ‘Pillar’. This is not the first time you have approached our Order for help, and we have provided you and your family much help throughout the many hundreds of years of war your family has against the Pillars. But we had agreed upon it with your father at the very beginning that we shall not lend a direct hand to fight the Pillars.”
“And my father would thank you, as do I, for the assistance. My family’s war against the Pillars may not have gone as well as it had without such assistance.”
“Our Order has benefitted from the assistance of the GreyVolfe clan for years, but as I said, we do not interfere with the Pillars or Guardians. We can provide with information, but no more. Not even weapons.”
The girl looked angry at this decision, but sighed in defeat.
“I understand. At the very least, I request a legion of Dragoon Knights to fight the Darklings whilst my clan’s forces lay siege to the Vangrol God’s palace. I swear upon my family’s name that your knights will not partake in the main battle and will only serve to do battle with the darklings. In this manner, not only do your knights battle the darklings that a pillar may use against others, but it also may serve to provide your Order with information on the methods of how the pillar is able to direct the darklings to do his bidding. Is it not a good deal for you as well?”
Sevarn stroked his chin at that.
“As sly of a suggestion as always, Lady Greyvolfe. Very well, I shall allow you to ask five Knights, for taking a legion is far beyond showing favourtism. If you hurry, you may yet seek out Knight Forstes. If the Darklings do appear at the Vangrol God’s palace, then I would suspect five would be sufficient, though with Knight Forstes alone may prove equally sufficient. However-”
“I understand, that they will not assist in the siege in any form. Though I do not believe I can convince Knight Forstes easily of my plight, I shall endeavour nonetheless. You have my gratitude, Blue Wing Sevarn Toluran.”
The girl bowed and turned around, walking off. Sevarn smiled and turned to leave, but noticed Deryke. The Blue Wing gave Deryke a slight understanding nod, before leaving.
“Are you done with your cleaning?”
A voice called out, making Deryke turn to see Bryjon walking down the corridor towards him.
“More or less.”
Deryke answered. Bryjon looked at the floor and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“Well, it certainly is a brighter shade of grey than before, I’d give you that. Something on your mind, lad?”
“There was someone talking with the Blue Wing just now. Asking for assistance. Does the Order not help people in need?”
Deryke wondered, to which Bryjon smiled sadly and shook his head.
“We are not a charity group, though most who join us would love to think so. There are many who seek our aid in their struggles, but we cannot… must not draw our swords for anything other than our goal. Our sole mission is to fight the Dark ones, nothing more, nothing less. We cannot meddle in the affairs of the Kingdoms, but it is fair knowledge to many that our presence alone can sway political alignments, that is why we try not to go to the Kingdoms unless it is necessary. Can’t say much about the Green Wing though, she’s directly related to the royal family of the Green Kingdom.”
“I guess she does look like one.”
“Ha ha! If she hears that, you’ll be forced to drink with her for weeks. But going back to people asking us for help. It isn’t new, and we offer what we can within the limitations of our Order’s laws.”
“Lending Dragoon Knights is one of them?”
Deryke knew of the Dragoon Knights, another part of the Dragonnaire Order, the Dragoon Knights were a group of strong warriors who trained and worked with the Dragonnaires to fight the Dark Ones. Located in the same Castle, but in a different area, the Dragoon Knights were still fairly unknown to him as he had yet to see many.
“Well, in most cases, no, but there are certain exceptions. For starters, the Dragoon Order may be part of our Order, but we officially are not allowed to ‘loan’ Knights out. Only the Dragoon Lords of the Dragoon Order can do that. Of course, since politics is politics, somehow or rather we are seen as ‘higher’ ranked than them. Don’t let that get to your head though, for they are our comrades, not servants.”
“Well… I don’t think I’ve ever seen one to ever judge on as such.”
Bryjon laughed and slapped Deryke on the back, causing him to stumble a little.
“All in good time, lad. All in good time.”
Imagination's fart 