#alphias

Alphias took his arms from inside the circle, holding himself in place. His chest, arms, neck, and head were the only things we could see. I was baffled by his size, he looked the size of a whole skyscraper with his long neck curled above his body. He kept his jaw clamped on the smaller beast and I could see the pain in Crimson’s eyes the harder Alphias pressed down.

Of course this was dangerous as when a divine beast and a god make a pact they place a type of spell on themselves due to the ritual. The spell essentially states that if one of them were to die, the other would as well. But seeing as Crimson has been holding on well and strong I know he won’t die. He could probably release the spell anytime he could. I just hope the dragon’s life had ended quickly.

Alphias dipped his head. His neck curving upwards like a snake’s back, the spines on the back of his neck extending so high a medium-sized wyvern could perch on them.

He opened his jaws, releasing the Faral. The dragon fell to the ground with a flat thud, colorful liquid leaking from his wounds made from Alphias’s sharp and curved teeth.

Alphias stayed still, his mouth still open, hovering over the smaller dragon. Bright orange and yellow liquid dropped from his lips, glistening against his teeth from the pale moonlight. His golden eyes peering around him and his back stayed hunched while he held his upper body upright.

He closed his mouth, lifting his head slightly, a rumbling rising from his throat while he slowly blinked. I swallowed on air, my mouth dry as I continued to watch him. I’ve never seen a dragon so big. I didn’t even think dragons could still get this big.

What breed is he anyway?

“Welcome, Alphias,” Crimson spoke, his tone of voice surprising me. It seemed like he felt as if Alphias was a sibling or family member and knowing Crimson I’m aware he’s an only child. In fact, he’s the first of his bloodline.

“You’re a magnificent beast, Alphias,” I said quietly. My voice hoarse while I held my breath in while speaking. “I’ve never seen such a fine creature as you.”

Alphias’s lips pulled up slightly, resembling a snarl. All that came out was a chuckle. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Platinum Uriborle,” he said surprising me with his deep voice and capability to speak so clearly. The rumbling in his throat seemed to always catch at his voice, causing him to pause every once in awhile to gather his voice again. “What happened to your stone heart?”

“I have met new people who have changed my ways of seeing life,” I answered. To me it isn’t surprising when a dragon speaks of you like he’s known you for years because I’m aware of how intelligent they are. They’re able to see everything about you just by looking at the way you sit or stand or even walk and talk, they’ll even easily catch your lies and speak your worst secrets. It’s always recommended to never lie to a dragon or even threaten one as they will expose every aspect of you. They can also attack you but that’s very rare.

“Do not let people influence you so,” he said, blinking, “always be aware of one’s intentions. One day I shall teach you.”

“Of course,” I bowed my head, releasing my breath.

“Thank you Alphias for the help,” Alpha spoke, walking up to the large dragon and resting a small hand on his snout, patting it slightly.

“Anything for you, Master,” Alphias rumbled, lifting his head in the air. I watched in awe as the slow rise of Apyth glimmered against his blood red scales and plates.

“Alphias,” I called. The large dragon lowered his head again to be somewhat eye level with me. “What do you know about making pacts with mortals? As a divine beast I mean.”

“The power of the divine will corrupt them in many ways. I’m aware of Laliya, seeing as I live here in Ragnor. Her mind had been shadowed by the divine. I’m positive she saw things that she shouldn’t have seen as a mortal’s mindset is much different than a dragon’s or even a god’s,” he explained, “her mind was clouded by the divine beast she made a pact with and her pact caused the great faral to fall into misery as his own thoughts were clouded by the greediness of an ill mortal such as her.”

“So the pact changed her mindset?”

“Yes and no. She was unaware of the consequences but her mindset stuck to the thought of being powerful because she never was. She was given abilities a mortal should never receive. Because of her actions she will be punished; by Crimson for taking over his leadership and by Aeregele for wrongly taking her title as Goddess of Death.”

“Her mind was clouded and she could not feel the burning in her veins as the divine blood started deteriorating her from the inside,” Crimson said, “she has not died yet, but Aeregele will make sure she gets what she deserves before she passes.”

“Do you know who the real Goddess of Death is?”

“The previous Goddess of Death was slain by Aeregele. The only Death God that exists is Moral who lives by the Jayle.”

“I believe the word for beast— Moralis— derives from Moral’s name,” Crimson said, “Although you can’t trust that he won’t take that into consideration.”

Alphias hummed before raising his head again. The rumbling in his throat raised in volume until he let out a big loud roar, almost shaking the earth.

“Alphias! What’s wrong?” Alpha asked, stepping back closer to his father who placed a hand on one of his shoulders to hold him near.

“Alphias can take care of it,” Crimson said.

My ears flattened back as I watched the clouds above Alphias. Apyth simmering against them, turning them purple and orange with the slow sunrise. Where the clouds shimmered white a silhouette appeared in them for a second before they suddenly exploded along with the large figure of a white and golden dragon.

It’s wings outstretched quickly, picking itself up in the air. Raising its bottom half of its body it swung its legs upwards, splaying out its golden talons as if to catch something. Alphias growled and swung his head to the side, catching the white wyvern off guard and throwing it to the ground. He turned his body quickly before the dragon could get up and pulled himself out from his summon circle, a second pair of arms pulling themselves out and holding him where the first pair had been. He threw one of his hands at the smaller dragon, slamming his paw against its side.

The wyvern roared and flailed about, wiggling itself out of Alphias’s grip and launching itself in the air, screeching. Alphias released a hiss, shaking his head and neck before releasing a beam of fire at the wyvern, knocking it down again with a painful cry.

“Alphias stop!” Alpha shouted and on cue the large blood red dragon stopped himself in place, turned his head around he peered at Alpha over his shoulder with his golden eyes, bright orange liquid dripping from his lips.

I quickly ran over to the wyvern, having not seen a white one before. I strayed away from Alphias’s summoning circle while he watched Maiatan and I approach the white dragon.

“It’s just a juvenile,” Maiatan said, crouching beside the wyvern. “It looks like it hatched a few months ago.”

The wyvern let out a small hum, picking itself up on its wings. I hummed and lightly placed my left hand on its snout. “What breed is it?” I asked her as I gazed at its sharp dark grey horns covering its head and back of its neck along with its two long golden spines and its piercing white eyes and golden underbelly plates.

“He looks like an arrow wyvern,” she said, “his slender body and angular horns. And that sharp beak.” I took my hand back while she carefully placed her fingers on either jaw and opened the wyvern’s mouth. The wyvern let out a small squeak and turned its head slightly while we examined his mouth. “And needle-like teeth and bright gums. He’s definitely an arrow wyvern. He probably doesn’t even weigh that much either for his size,” she explained, releasing his jaws.

The small wyvern screeched loudly at Alphias who only huffed back. I watched the small dragon jump around and flex its wings. I felt almost familiarized with the beast. I felt almost like I knew him since he hatched.

“This small wyvern has a familiar aura to it,” Alphias spoke. “The aura I had felt confused me before, so I apologize for attacking a juvenile.”

“What do you mean?” Maiatan asked, turning to look up at the large beast.

“This beast is related to the previous Mountain Wyvern,” Alphias said. “He’s the only surviving offspring of her. I’m wondering where he had been living all this time.”

The wyvern hissed. The hiss didn’t sound too terribly threatening considering it’s just a hatchling, it sounded like a quick release of steam or someone getting burnt by the stovetop. It was interesting to say the least.

“He’s kinda cute,” Maiatan mumbled.

I hummed in agreement and snapped my fingers. The small wyvern squeaked and jumped slightly closer to me and rubbed his face against my hand when I held it out. Maiatan giggled, petting him along his back.

“He’s very pretty, too,” she said, moving her right hand across his scales.

I couldn’t believe how shiny his silvery-white scales are. They’re so clean and glistening with light. They even had the reflections of its surroundings, sort of like metal. When he moved our reflections would distort around his body. His golden horns were just the same. But I knew his scales weren’t entirely strong.

“Arrow wyverns are known for their shiny scales. In fact, some armors are made for attracting monsters and dragons by using these scales. These wyverns are also known for being very greedy,” Alphias snarled, receiving a hiss from the small wyvern. “Hence why my people were always at their throats.”

“Were?” I repeated.

“I am a Venom Basilisk. My people have long been dead,” he explained, his voice rumbling. “Only few have lived long enough to see the end of my people.”

“Their end was because of the Arrow Wyverns,” Crimson spoke, “the two breeds have been at each other’s throats for years and the Venom Basilisks has been slowly killed off by their rivaling race. Either that or they had all died off because they had grown so large they couldn’t sustain their hunger long enough to live anymore.”

“The Berserkers would’ve ended out that way if they didn’t kill each other. We would’ve ended out like them if we did the same, but we kept our dignity. Cannibalism would not be an option to quell our starvation.”

“Arrow wyverns get large,” Maiatan said, “But they don’t get large enough to starve the way the Venom Basilisks had.”

I growled, turning over in bed. I hadn’t even known I fell asleep until I opened my eyes and the room was filled with the light of day. Sort of, I already knew it would be pretty late in the day after I had gotten home in the morning. I didn’t exactly mean to fall asleep.

“What the hell?” I heard Selenite outside the bedroom. I slowly sat up and pulled myself out of the bed, not bothering with my attire as I walked out of the room and found Selenite in the living room with the small wyvern we had encountered. It squeaked and barked at him, jumping around happily and brushing its head and body all over him. He was like a big puppy. “When did we get this?” His face looked almost mortified, but at the same time I knew he thought it was funny.

“This morning when you were sleeping,” I chuckled and clicked my tongue, the wyvern turning around immediately and hopping over to me, brushing his face in my hand when I held it out.

“But I…” he sighed with a smile.

“He’s kinda cute,” I smiled as well, patting the wyvern’s head, receiving a small yip.

“I guess he is,” Selenite said, rubbing his hand on the wyvern’s back. “What’ll we do when he gets too big for the house?”

“Move,” I said simply, taking back my hand and looking up at him.

“Move? Where?”

“I have a house I used to live at at the peak of Ark’dor. I haven’t sold it yet because I didn’t plan to,” I shrugged, “it was where I grew up. It has enough yard for him and he can come and go from hunting whenever.”

“Oh, that’s fine I guess,” Selenite shrugged as well. I could tell he was a bit anxious.

“Don’t worry about it,” I smiled, stepping over to Selenite and pulling him in for a hug and resting my head on his. I’m just glad to finally be back home in Rak’our.

I scrolled through my phone, trying to find an answer to whether or not wyverns can eat anything else other than fish since this one is obviously one to eat fish. It’s an odd thing for a mountain wyvern to be raised on fish, so I’m just trying to see if he can eat other meats.

In fact, the small wyvern has been lying on the floor with his head resting on my lap while I sat at my desk.

“Doesn’t say anything about not being able to,” I sighed.

“I think you should just hunt with him by the river that runs near the town,” Selenite said, sitting on the couch across from me.

“I guess I could,” I sighed, “it wouldn’t hurt to go out more.”

“Just be careful, please, winter’s approaching soon and I don’t know how long your cybernetics will last in the cold.”

“I don’t think any of the trees have really changed much yet, so we’ll have a while. And besides,” I said, “by winter he’d be big enough to hunt on his own.”

“I hope he’ll be safe then.”

Coughing, Elphias watched as the petals floated down to the floor. Blue violets, how appropriate. Love and faithfulness, apt for the situation, in his opinion. It seemed like the flowers would join the anemone’s the scattered the flat that he and Albus shared. He should have expected that to happen. He had been in love with Albus for weeks now, it had only been a matter of time before the flowers started to grow. It would be easy enough to pass the flowers off as growing for someone else. (“Oh yes, I’m in love with the petty girl from down the street.”

“I’m sorry, I hope she can learn to return your affections.”)

He’d known Albus was in love with Grindelwald. The reason he had come to Elphias in the first place had been the purple flowers growing in his lungs because of a man who didn’t love him. Now, it seemed that the house would be buried in blood speckled flowers. He’d known, and yet here he was, in love with the redhead, who was in love with someone else. They were both dead men walking.

The first time Grindelwald had appeared in the papers the flat had been filled with more flowers than normal. Neither of them mentioned it; it became another topic with too many words left unsaid. In the following weeks as Grindelwald stayed in the papers, it was easy enough to dispose of some of the excess violets. (He had to wonder if Violets were any easier to stomach then Anemone's. Slower to kill most likely.)

Unrequited love was painful at any point, the flowers the unfortunate extra. They both considered getting the surgery to rid themselves of the flowers, neither of them did. (Albus couldn’t bear the thought of losing those memories; painful as they were. Elphias couldn’t imagine forgetting his entire time at Hogwarts, back when life was simpler.) In time they created some form of rhythm. Wake up, go to work, come home, throw out the flowers. It was easier to ignore the inevitable than to talk about it. (“I’m going to die.”

“So am I.”) It was hardly like their deaths would affect many people. Grindelwald was long gone, working towards his goal of the ‘Greater Good’. He was certain that when all was said and done he would never be able to look at any flowers again without remembering this time. He’d have months after Albus died most likely.

He could still remember the first time they had heard of Hanahaki disease. They had been third years, and an older student had woken up surrounded by flowers one day. Her parents had immediately told her she had to come home. After that, the two of them had spent hours in the library learning about it. ‘Hanahaki Disease: an illness born from one-sided love, in which flowers bloom in the infected lungs. If left untreated, it can prove fatal.’ had been the description they had found. He could still remember them both proclaiming it would never happen to them. So certain they would never fall victim to unrequited love. How wrong they were.

Elphias didn’t believe he could be saved. Albus was enamoured with a dark wizard, and he would never return Elphias’ feeling. The surgery wasn’t worth sacrificing everything he would lose. (Months later, after Albus had been laid to rest, Elphias would wonder why he had continued to stay with Albus. It could have saved him so much pain if only he had moved. Love makes fools of everyone he supposes.)

It had been a hot day in Summer when Elphias had woken up to Albus surrounded by purple flower petals and no pulse. It was almost cruel, such a pleasant day for such a sad occasion. Elphias had gone down to the river that day, watched as the currents carried away the seemingly endless amount of flowers. When Elphias had gotten home, he swept up the wilting flowers, and tossed them out. Part of him took comfort in the fact that there would no longer be any anemone's to sweep up every evening.

The funeral was a small affair. A couple of the Hogwarts teaching staff, Elphias; even Aberforth had made the trip.  Elphias supposes, resentment or not, it was still his brother, the only family he had left. Albus falling victim to the disease, his mother killed sometime in the last several years, his father when he was a young boy, and Ariana 15 months ago. They were both so young. Aberforth was barely 18, and Albus had been almost 20; too young for the tragedy that had befallen them.

In the initial months following Albus’ death, the amount of violets coughed up increased, more often covered in blood than not. It was almost like the flowers were trying to take the place the anemone’s had been. He moved into a smaller apartment, (there was no need for the extra space anymore). On the odd occasion Elphias would catch himself talking to thin air, where Albus should have been, but wasn’t. Gradually the violets lessened, back to what they had been before Albus’ passing.

It was almost cruel, watching the news. Grindelwald was terrorizing the world. Working for the plans that he and Albus had created together. Elphias got Albus’ last words, and a fleeting fantasy of might have happened if he hadn’t been coughing up flowers for the man in love with someone else.