45.

The loneliest beast in the world

It roared. The sound alone was so powerful that wind whipped through the chamber, blowing them back a few feet. Dominic tried covering his ears with his palms, but it hardly helped. He felt like his head was going to split.

There was not even a moment of relief when the roar died down. Largo began shouting frantically immediately, as if he wasn’t aware of his own surroundings yet.

“Why?!” he screamed, voice bellowing so deep that the earth trembled. “Why?!”

The floor started to crack. At first there were only hairline seams, but they quickly widened, crumbling, creating huge rifts in the stone. Dominic pulled Aster closer in alarm. He could smell fire. He could smell molten stone.

Lava, thick and red, bubbled up and filled the chasms in the floor, casting a threatening orange glow across the walls. The room heated up instantly, the smoke reeking of melted minerals and toxic fumes. Aster began coughing violently. Dominic cast a healing spell over both of them to make it stop.

Largo swung his head high and screamed. The sound pushed them back, forcing Dominic to dig in his feet and hold onto Aster. It was primal, coming straight from the heart. It felt like it might have been grief once, long ago. But that grief had since turned into a much more violent emotion. Anger. Rage. Vengefulness. An unending desire to see this destruction to its end.

“You dare!” he shouted.

He stepped forward. His claws, though ghostly, left craters in the floor, splashing chunks of lava everywhere.

“You Ashans DARE!”

In an instant, Dominic felt all the mana in the room tense. He pulled Aster closer to him and covered the boy’s ears.

“I’LL DESTROY EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!”

The sheer force of the dragon’s scream made Dominic’s eardrums burst. It was filled with mana, the old memories and old grudges washing over them like a tidal wave. This was the scale of Largo’s vendetta. He was so engrossed in it, so trapped inside his own mind, that he hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t alone yet.

“Largo!” Dominic shouted.

Mars had said that the dragon would be obedient if he knew who Dominic was. But it was no use. Largo couldn’t hear him. He kept mumbling to himself, rampaging about his thousand-year grudge, only getting increasingly irritated.

“No, I won’t, I won’t allow it…”

“Largo!”

Dominic tried putting more mana into his voice.

“NO!”

The dragon shouted again, letting out something between a roar and a scream. The force was even worse than before—both more powerful and more painful. It felt like the mana itself had begun to sting, miniature needles pricking at his skin.

“Ack—” Aster exclaimed.

The wind was so strong that it tore the boy from his hands, pushing him away. He stumbled, trying to catch the back of Dominic’s clothes, but couldn’t overcome the power of the dragon’s primal, unfettered screech.

He tipped over, falling backwards towards a crack in the floor. The lava bubbled and popped as if welcoming him.

“Aster!”

Dominic reached out, trying to grab him. He sent out his threads, but for some reason they were loose and slow—the dragon’s mana seemed to be interfering with their circuits. In a last ditch effort, the boy transformed into a crow, fluttering his wings frantically, trying to get away—but the magic reverted. He returned to his demon form, shocked and uncoordinated. The power and density of the Largo’s mana had canceled out his transformation spell, forcing him to turn back.

Dominic lunged forward desperately, the boy’s outstretched fingers just barely out of reach.

“Brother—!”

Aster’s expression was tearful and terrified. His silhouette framed against the burning lava, lying hungrily in wait, made Dominic want to scream just as loudly as the dragon. He was the son of Mars, but there was nothing he could do in this moment. He couldn’t command the lava to just go away. Building a bridge of earth to catch him would be too slow. Even if he healed Aster so that he never died, what use was that? What use was keeping him alive when the boy would have to experience the mental shock of being melted alive, of drowning in fire? Just how powerless was he, even as the son of a god?

His fingertips just missed Aster’s.

“Fuck!” Dominic shouted.

The boy fell, plummeting towards that lake of fire.

But in the next second, something in the air changed. A metallic scent appeared—not like the burning rock that came off the lava. Something cold and polished. Something vaguely familiar. He recognized it. Mixed in with it was the scent of Helwin’s treasury.

The halinium ring on Aster’s finger sparkled for a moment, and then a silver light exploded from it.

Dominic’s eyes widened as a complex, multi-layered barrier constructed itself around the boy in an instant. It met the lava, and the lava was the one that made way.

“Agh!” Aster shouted. “Hot!”

That quickly snapped him back to reality. Even though the barrier was keeping the molten rock from touching him, he was still undoubtedly going to burn from the heat alone. And the worst part was that Aster, trapped inside the sphere that was protecting him, was starting to sink.

The boy scrambled, panicking, managing to roll his orb closer to the edge even while it burned his hands and knees. Dominic dug his fingers into the stone and leaned out, reaching for him. The temperature rose exponentially as he leaned towards the lava, burning his throat with every breath, singeing his clothes. He tried reaching out with his threads to bring the ungainly sphere closer, but the thin metal strings began softening and even melting. Unlike Aster’s ring, his hadn’t been built to be protected against such extreme conditions.

Aster finally reached him and grabbed his hand, ignoring how much the contact must have stung with his burns. Dominic tugged him up strongly, pulling the sinking orb from the molten rock’s clutch, lava spraying everywhere as it splashed off of the barrier. Aster tumbled onto the hard floor along with him, safe but shaking. The silver sphere around him released and disappeared back into the ring.

Dominic inspected Aster’s wounds. The burns on his forearms and shins were horrible, the skin melted and jagged. He quickly cast numbing magic over the boy’s entire body, then healed it.

His shallow breathing calmed slightly as the pain went away. He was still shaking even after his injuries disappeared, though—still in shock, still overtaken by fear and the realization of what could have just happened to him. Dominic softly took him by the shoulders, then realized that his own right arm wasn’t working. A charred hole had been burned into his flesh, right down to the bone, presumably from when he had pulled the boy out and a chunk of lava had splashed onto him.

“Heal,” he murmured under his breath.

The muscle began regrowing, the skin stretching grotesquely back into place. He turned back to Aster.

“Aster,” Dominic called quietly.

“Agh…”

He didn’t respond. Tears dripped out of his eyes and onto the stone floor, evaporating quickly in the heat.

“Aster, I’m going to put you to sleep for a second,” he said. “Is that okay?”

He was worried about the boy’s fragile mental state, that he might be pushing too much so soon after such a traumatic event, but this was no place to be paralyzed in shock. Aster nodded weakly in agreement, unable to look up.

“Turn into a crow for me, please.”

Without arguing, his form changed into a crow’s, and Dominic quickly wrapped him in his mana, keeping the dragon’s from canceling the spell again. He picked him up and put his palm over the bird’s eyes.

“I’ll wake you up when this is over,” he said.

Aster nodded again, then went limp as Dominic put him to sleep. He tucked the crow safely inside the front of his robe, then turned to Largo.

The floor shook. He was still rampaging, and Dominic was very, very angry now. He glared at the dragon who was stomping about in the destroyed room, paying him no heed.

“Largo,” he called, voice low and threatening.

Largo didn’t respond. Dominic sucked in a deep breath, the heat burning his lungs, and shouted with all his power.

“LARGO!”

His voice resounded between the walls, his anger exploding outwards with his mana and washing over the dragon’s ghostly form like a tsunami wave.

Largo froze, mouth still open mid-rant. Slowly, shakily, he turned, and his eyes finally focused on Dominic.

“You…” he mumbled, as if seeing him for the first time, “say my name again.”

Dominic stepped closer, unafraid.

“Largo,” he repeated.

The dragon froze, processing that one word, despair taking over his expression.

“No, no, it’s not possible…”

He stepped closer, crouching down to meet Dominic’s eyes.

“What year is it?” he asked.

“It’s 1120 on the Renan calendar.”

“Ah, damn you!”

He raised his head and shouted again, though it wasn’t directed at Dominic.

“Damn you Ashans!”

It seemed that he only realized now that over a thousand years had passed. Largo suddenly flattened himself against the floor, staring at Dominic intently.

“Tell me, what has happened?!” he asked.

Dominic hesitated for a moment before deciding to answer vaguely. He wasn’t sure what subjects could set the dragon off again.

“The Ashans put up a barrier,” he said. “Hesia is isolated from Vaine.”

“So they succeeded!” Largo said, grimacing. “Ah, I knew they would try this, those fiends! What else has occurred?”

“Humans…have become weak,” Dominic added warily.

“Humans…?”

Largo’s brow furrowed.

“Yes, I do feel it,” he murmured. “Part of me has been cut off from the flow of mana…For what reason? I don’t understand.”

He shook his head, his expression calming again, and focused back on Dominic.

“Regardless, it must be the right thing. The will of the maker god is never wrong. But…”

He leaned in closer, getting a better look at Dominic.

“You’re not Kali.”

His eyes suddenly widened as a thought crossed his mind.

“No,” he mumbled, “the humans…Then what about Kali? Tell me, what happened to Kali?!”

Dominic hesitated, unsure if he should answer at all. If the dragons were as devout as he imagined, then they would not take lightly to the fact that Kali was no longer alive.

“…Kali has passed,” he finally replied, taking the plunge. Largo would find out anyway. If he went on rampage, it was better to do it here in the isolation of the lair than anywhere else.

“No!”

He shot to his feet, mana flaring.

“Again, we are powerless! Why, why?! Damn the Ashans! Damn them all!”

The lava, still bubbling in the cracks in the floor, popped and exploded alongside the dragon’s roar. Dominic covered Aster as best he could, glaring up at Largo again.

“Control yourself,” he commanded, voice low. “I have no interest in grief that equates destruction.”

Largo panted, still angry, but stopped his magic. He slowly calmed himself, then turned his gaze to Dominic.

“You,” Largo said, “you must be Kali’s successor. Tell me your name.”

His expression was one of both resignation and fervor. He had accepted that the dead would never come back, but he also knew that there was another way forward.

“Dominic,” he answered.

“Dominic…” the dragon repeated, letting the syllables roll off his tongue. “Dominic, based off of Domain, derived from the middle divinity…I see. It’s not a bad name.”

Their gazes met, and Largo bowed—pressing his body to the ground, closing his eyes.

“Dominic,” he said, “my liege. It is late, but your servant greets you, in this lacking form.”

It felt a little uncomfortable, or rather unfamiliar, to see such a huge beast bowing for him. Regardless, this was something he had to get used to.

“Raise your head, Largo,” he said.

The dragon looked up, then finally seemed to notice that there was another presence tucked into the front of his clothes.

“This…” he said, tilting his head to get a better look. “A regular mortal? A child, no less. Why are you keeping this around?”

Dominic frowned at the way he referred to Aster.

“Who I keep by my side is not for you to control,” he answered. “You said you were a servant, Largo.”

“Yes, but a responsible servant also has a duty to act as their master’s guide,” the dragon replied. “My liege, I have seen much of the world and its people. To let regular mortals into your inner circle is ill-advised. They can be terribly treacherous.”

Dominic paused, glancing up at the dragon.

“Did you advise Kali like this as well?” he asked.

“Yes? Of course.”

“…I see.”

He had an inkling of what kind of person his predecessor had been based on the way the dragon spoke. The type of personality that would brush off Largo’s cynical words and lightly let them go. Saying “it’s fine” playfully instead of putting her foot down. Perhaps she even agreed with him, to some extent. Seeing how she had collected a world of books and materials inside the lighthouse, he doubted she had spent all that much time outside of it, greeting people or making friends.

She must have been kind and gentle, despite the burning passion she had towards her work. She was obsessed enough to change the entire world, but warm enough to change it for the better. The dragons could say what they wanted. She didn’t care.

Dominic was not that kind of person.

“Largo,” he called calmly.

“My liege?”

“Do not overstep your bounds.”

The dragon froze, surprised by his threatening tone.

“I am not Kali,” Dominic said. “And I did not ask for your opinion.”

Largo’s eyes widened, and he immediately slammed his head back into the ground, stirring up a wave of dust.

“I apologize!” he shouted. “This servant did not mean to question your authority.”

“Just remember it for the future.”

“Yes, my liege. If I may ask…”

He peeked up at Dominic.

“If you do not require my counsel, then how else may I serve you?”

He thought about it for a moment. Kali, who had been more of a researcher than a mage, had probably used dragons as walking encyclopedias to supplement her knowledge of the world. But he didn’t need any of that.

“Can you use magic?” Dominic asked.

“For now, in a limited capacity,” Largo answered. “My body has been lost, so I can only use it within the vicinity of my resting place.”

“Where is your resting place?”

“Right here.”

Dominic glanced over at the gate on the far wall, glowing a low blue. So he had died while guarding this room.

“First,” he said, gesturing to the cracks in the ground, “get rid of the fire.”

“Your servant obeys.”

Largo rose, and fissures slowly grew closed, the floor repairing itself, the orange light and the suffocating heat from the lava retreating and finally disappearing entirely.

Dominic breathed a short sigh of relief once they were gone. He turned back to Largo.

“Are you an earth mage?” he asked.

The dragon shook his head.

“Then how can you use earth magic?”

“Dragons can use most affinities,” Largo explained. “It cannot compare to your divine power, my liege, of creation. We are simply large and old enough of beings that the reflux no longer matters if we forcefully use affinities that aren’t ours. It is a rudimentary method.”

“There’s no reflux at all?”

“For this small amount of magic, none.”

He called it small, but closing up such huge chasms in such a short period of time was more than any mage in Vaine was capable of.

“If your affinity isn’t earth, then what is it?” Dominic asked.

“It’s—”

The dragon paused mid-sentence, staring at him.

“Oh, I see…hm…”

He averted his eyes momentarily, thinking of something.

“My liege,” Largo finally called, “even if it is overstepping my bounds, will you allow this servant one thing?”

“…I will decide when you tell me what it is,” Dominic replied.

“There is something holding you back, I believe,” he said. “A regret? No, a memory? A figment that clings to your mind even now. I advise against allowing it to remain, my liege. It will only continue to bother you. Please allow me to absolve you of it.”

Dominic frowned. He had no idea what the dragon was talking about.

“Will it hurt?” he asked.

“I would never hurt you!”

“How long will it take?”

“But a second.”

He hesitated a moment longer, then nodded.

“Do it.”

Largo bowed deeply again.

“Thank you, my liege.”

He rose and reached over. The tip of his ghostly claw, sharp and cold, touched Dominic’s forehead gently.

In an instant, he felt a powerful drowsiness take over him. As his vision clouded over and his legs gave out, he swore to himself.

Fuck, Largo’s affinity is something mental, isn’t it.

Dominic fell back and blacked out.

∞

The waves rolled, rhythmic and constant. All around, the scent of salt and wood permeated his senses, a signature that meant emptiness, endlessness, and open ocean—a signature he knew.

He opened his eyes. The deck of a grand ship stretched out in front of him, sailing calmly across the vast, boundless blue. An early summer Sun beamed down, comfortably warm when accompanied by the wind that blew off the water. The voices of sailors filtered into his ears, slowly coming into focus.

Dominic was back on the ship that had taken him to Hesia—the one that had sunk three months ago.