The black dragon spread wide its wings as it closed in upon the City of Venus. Skyfall’s second light lit up the land below, a fierce wave of force moved across the surface, from the dragon’s back, Avance could only mutter to himself that, funny enough, it looked a lot like a silver-gold earthworm cutting a swath in the soil. The bent skyfall then hit a mountain and the mountain was no more. The black dragon scoffed, it almost sounded amused at the display.

“What was that,” Avance asked himself as he looked towards the shattered mountain. What appeared there, far too his back, was like a scene from hell. Especially because, by sheer coincidence, he hoped, that spot had been his hiding place not too long ago. Had he been a coward, which, fortunately, he was anything but, then nobody would ever locate his bones. He turned to face the distant city, he was only a few minutes away now. The dragon roared, its thunderous bellow shook the skies. The panicking general redoubled his haste as the war raged on at Venus’ now obliterated city gate.

_________________________________________________

The pitch black god stared in silence towards the carnage caused by Skyfall. He thought back to an immemorial age. The power of this ability back in their prime day. Feng, who taught this skill to Abel, could summon it on a whim and it was far more powerful back then. Tornados beyond counting would cover the horizon far beyond what mortal eyes could see, the world would seem to turn into a giant sea of raging storms. He turned his head. There stood Rudolph, whose gaze was fixed upon that awesome, yet chilling sight. He was worried, scared for the lives of his daughter and her companions.

“Fret not,” Said Rognir, “The ingenuity of those children should be praised.”

“You mean...they’re alive?” Rudolph inquired. The god nodded, then he turned to face him. The lives and deaths of the six hundred survivors meant little to him, if they died he would claim them if they lived then he would praise them, either result was fine with him.

“Let’s get down to business then.” With Rognir’s gaze firm upon him, Rudolph fell into uneasy silence. The god looked towards him and raised his hand. Ash clustered therein, forming a city the size of a man’s head. Beneath it lay a large spherical mass, threads, like the tethers holding a a cocoon to a tree, linked it to the city. Many layers of solid structure penetrated the sphere and bound it. This underground facility was close to being the greatest achievement of human ingenuity that Rudolph had ever beheld. “I want you to go to the City of Vesta and liberate the Yggdrasil that slumbers chained beneath her streets.” Rudolph winced as he stared at the structure. How the hell was he supposed to do that? He couldn’t help but wonder.

“What’s in it for me?” He asked. He didn’t want to do something so insane for free. Yet, to his surprise, Rognir cracked a confident smile.

“Oh, you will not decline.”

“What makes you so sure?” Rudolph asked. Though he knew it was futile, he raised his guard. Rognir could clearly sense Rudolph’s Ash readying itself. He snapped his fingers and then, just like that, Rudolph’s amassed power was pushed down deep into his belly. He nearly collapsed, but he grit his teeth and endured the pain. Rognir smiled, he opened the hand that had just snapped its fingers and a trio of crystals fell from the sky above. Rudolph frowned, within those crystals lay the slumbering forms of his master, his sister and his wife. Though the pain from before did not shake him, the sight in front of him stopped his heart cold. “Are you threatening me?” He asked, his tone seething with rage. Yet Rognir shook his head. Two of the crystals departed, returning to the black sky above.

“You will do as I ask because you want Venus’ curse to go away...you will do it,” The god said as he pointed towards the distant Bronze District, and Rusalka therewithin, “For her.” Rudolph fell silent. He took a moment to calm down and shake off the pain inside of his body.

“Are you offering to fix the curse?” He inquired. The god peered forward, looking into the distance where Vesta City lay.

“The Yggdrasil bound beneath Vesta is Authun. She had little interest in the affairs of mortal men, but her Beacons spread out far and wide in those days. One made its way to the union city of Leo, where a patrilineal monarchy reigned. One such monarch cursed his rivals, preventing them from having male heirs, through the use of one such Beacon. Authun’s curse can only be lifted by Authun herself.” Rudolph frowned. He glared towards Rognir with a doubtful expression.

“You’re lying, aren’t you? You can lift the curse, you just won't, right?” Rognir’s smile deepened, he silently confirmed Rudolph’s doubts. Then, however, he raised the crystal within his hand and sent it back into the clouds.

“Do you recall that white Einherjar who empowered you and your sister as children?” The god inquired. Rudolph raised his brow. He did indeed recall that day, that white thing that he had suspected was a god. The only thing he did not know was that the god in question was just a mere Einherjar. He remembered that white being’s formless shape. He almost doubted it was ever human.

“Is Authun his master?” He concluded, and asked to confirm.

“Yes,” Rognir replied.

“What’ll happen to him...if Authun stays sealed?” Once more Rognir smiled. Rudolph’s doubts were confirmed by that look. Einherjar could never die because they were connected to their Vanir masters, that was what he had come to know today. Conversely, an Einherjar whose cut off from their Vanir master could only die. The scholar sighed, he turned away from the god and then started a slow walk towards the Bronze District that lay before him. He paused his steps, albeit for only a moment. “What happened to the king from Leo?” He asked, his tone full of Venom.

“His niece who was cursed by him fled to Midgard, to the Olympian Kingdom ruled by Feng’s Emerald Emperor, who listened to her story and took her in. However, Nidhogg conquered the city before The Emperor could take revenge on her behalf, realising they’d roused his fury by doing that, the Nidhogg Empire they placated him by sending him a princess. Those two women then became his fifth and sixth wives, were given immortality by Feng, and are still alive even now. This is why Olympus continues to invade Muspelheim to this day, they want to reach Vesta, liberate Authun, and undo the curse...this too, is how Venus’ ilk came to be here. I’ll let them know about you, and they will become your allies in the years to come. And as for that fool king, he became a dragon, same as all of Nidhogg’s victims.” Rudolph doubted him for a moment, he looked over his shoulder with that doubt naked in his eyes.

“He didn’t become an Einherjar?”

“You think he’d offer his own life as the price? No. One of his supporters became an Einherjar, he died a mortal man.” Rudolph nodded. Those words made sense, there was no way such a king who coveted the crown like so would give his own life to the cause, he wanted to live long enough to enjoy his victory. That fact had been his undoing. With that in mind, Rudolph advanced. He stepped towards the Bronze District where his daughter and her comrades were fighting for their lives. Only when Rudolph was out of earshot did the god turn his gaze towards a distant mountain. He smiled coldly in that direction, his gaze beheld a hidden sight. “Is it fate, I wonder? That saw you come here?” The City of Venus and the king turned into a dragon, their fates were bound by that Beacon five centuries ago. Here again, their fates overlapped, but would the king recognise his distant nieces? Would they recognise him?

_____________________________________________

The dust settled. The gates were turned to dust on the wind. Venus’ phalanx stood like an unbroken stone before the scorched landscape. Cain’s knights filled the sky, staring in disbelief at the decimation below. All eyes fell upon Cerus, whose head was raised to meet Cain’s kin with the smuggest of smiles. Two knights of Cain acted in that moment. They charged Cerus down in a rage. Two figures leapt forth from the phalanx, one clad in black, the other in white. The former, Rapture, thrust his trident towards the first of the two men. Between the shaft and the tip, the trident extended in a jet-like form. The knight reacted, albeit slowly. The whole affair took less than a tenth of a second, even a superhuman like them would have trouble taking action. The trident struck, it pushed him back, but it did not breach his armour, it didn’t even crack it.

Rusalka struck next, she swept in beside Cerus and swung up her sabre. Ash danced off her blade and formed a wall of fire before the charging Knight of Cain. The knight tried to pull back but then, in that moment, Cerus reached out, seized the knight’s collar, and then pulled him forward into the flames. His armour protected him through to the end, but Cerus did not release him. Rapture swooped in a moment later, his trident bathed in Rusalka’s flames and then struck hard into the back of the knight. Cerus thrust her open palm as Rapture’s trident forced the man forward. With a monstrous impact, the knight’s head was sent flying clean off his shoulders. The first knight recovered, he leapt forward and raised his hands. Ash gathered therein, he readied himself to turn those three people into dust on the wind.

From the phalanx, countless fireballs leapt forward, countless masses of Ash charged at the man. Alexander opened his eyes, he summoned his sword. The black body and silver edge as large as he was tall took form in a flash. The steel-like guard, depicting the shape of a woman, and the scarlet-bronze handle as large as a woman formed last. He stepped forward and raised the weapon high. The Ash from his allies could never land, their foe was too fast, but he was not the same as them. Ash enveloped his blade, he closed his eyes, reading the man’s movements on the wind. Within seconds he knew where the man would move next, that prediction allowed him to strike. He swung his heavy blade, a mighty echo, like a banshee's scream, tore its way through the open air.

The knight staggered, then Alexander’s Ash struck him. His armour cracked, but he didn’t die. He tumbled down, but regained his proverbial footing before he hit the ground. He glared forward, but a golden chain advanced to whiplash his throat. He stared towards the ground, towards Lucretia’s ice cold eyes, as she pulled back her hand and a powerful force snapped his spine. The force of the chin severed his head from his shoulders, ending his life once and for all time. The phalanx advanced forward, charging towards the freedom beyond the obliterated wall. High above, a white light shone. Cain’s surviving knights charged forward, their battle cries filled the sky. Then they were silenced, a thunderous roar, loud and deep, resounded through the heavens.

So much did the land tremble that one would think a giant stirred. Blue flames leapt forward like a volcano that’d blown its top. When all was said and done a few of Cain’s ilk escaped by fortune, but not by their own works. With a thunderous bellow and a sundering crash, a pitch black dragon slammed down into the earth. Beneath its claws, three more died. The beast opened its eyes, it tail swept the air, a Cain Knight perished there. All eyes fell upon the mighty dragon, upon the sinner, Fafnir, and he who stood upon its crown. Rapture, more than the rest, fell into a blank stare. He knew, it was his father who stood there.

Avance looked upon them, those six and a half hundred survivors. His heart ached for them, so few had survived this disaster. He skimmed their ranks, then stopped upon a single individual. The father and the son, on this day, finally met, albeit it under circumstances which did not permit either of them to celebrate that fact. The black dragon raised its head, it stared at the Cain survivors in the sky. They were shocked, at least at first, but after a few seconds that shock yielded to a chilling wave of calm. Avance frowned, something wasn’t right about this image, they didn’t seem as shaken as they should be. He had seen it many times, even death seeking soldiers dreaded Fafnir. For them to genuinely show no fear.

“Either you were expecting me...or you planned for my arrival either way.”