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I’m sorry this is so, so bad but I can’t get this stupid image out of my head and I should really WRITE something instead but my brain’s foggy
When you wake up to a dragonborn’s bellowing screech and there’s a shirtless nobleman with an arm flopped over you but you gotta get up, try shaking off the sleep deprivation, and save the scaly moron (while also trying not to be distracted by said nobleman, in which you fail and nat1 initiative because that’s a LOT of attractive sadman right there saodgjsl pff-)
I MEAN I CAN’T BE THE ONLY ONE WHO THOUGHT OF THIS RIGHT???
I am totally the only one but that’s alright fjdaklf
Rewatched a couple scenes from The Dragon Prince. I still got a lot of beef with Lord Viren, his crafty doppleganger look, and how he treats his children. What a little bitch. I’ll take my sad son Amon any day over that magic butt, thanks.
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Pretty proud of this, so decided to post it.
Sir Nikoli Fluffenwhiskers is my dnd Mousefolk character. A Paladin and follower of Chauntea, he gets his powers from his love and dedication to nature, and the natural order and balance of the world.
We coulda started a fight literally 10 minutes earlier if Essie’s Pettiness and need to Correct and be Validated kicked in ya’ll and it’s true //wheezes//
Now I see fire
Inside the mountain
I see fire
Burning the trees
And I see fire
Hollowing Souls
I see fire
Blood in the breeze
And I hope that you’ll remember me.
They’d failed.
In the most tremendous fashion, their futile hopes were dashed. All they could do now was stand, and watch with horror and awe as the mountain top miles upon miles away exploded. It erupted not with the hot molten magma of the planet’s core, but with screeching flames and smoke as the beastly creature arose from its slumber with a mighty roar.
Essätha flinched; tears blurring her vision as the rough warmth of a hand grasped upon hers firmly.
“My gods,” Adela’s soft voice carried faintly from somewhere out of sight. “That… That thing… it…”
She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the frightful sight of the towering form. It clawed out of the rugged cliffs and rising boulders more and more to reveal just how inescapably colossal it was. Everyone else was just as transfixed; as far as the eye could see from the horizon everyone was stopping and staring to see the very end of their world rise before them. A blackened sky to greet its majesty and thick armored body.
Startled caws and grunts of alarm had the wildlife racing and flocking in every direction to escape the area. Between the sound drowned out alone with her racing heart, and the uttered swears of Penimra from somewhere behind her.
Fingers slipped between the spaces of her own and held to her palm with a strength that was almost as numbing as her thoughts.
This was it. This was Armageddon. Judgment day. The Apocalypse lay within the maw of the monster as the mountain collapsed within its now empty shell of a husk, revealing it to be the core of the very hillside.
They had doomed the world, and sealed the fate of everyone on the planet.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Shuddering with horror, Essie could only watch the crumbling, rippling ground grow craters and rifts that swallowed parts of the village whole. There was no time to save the unfortunate souls that suddenly disappeared in the blink of an eye; rubble and earth descending into a blackened abyss.
She knew she should be feeling relief, as she spotted Aylin pulling Ravamora up on the far side of the trench now separating much of the town. There was no relief to be found, however.
“We’ll go around! Keep going!” Abernathy shouted; motioning to the best of his ability.
“I’m not sure they can hear us,” Sulhadur rasped; his voice nearly lost.
The shining golden shell plating of Pri’cha stepped forward. The sole antenna they still had left was curled tight against their head as they reached out, grasping for the Paladin’s trousers to give them a gentle tug.
“We nust keep going, Sir Adernathy.”
The orc-ish elf grunted, hefting up his massive axe so it cradled against the bend in his shoulder slope to his neck. His eyes shone with concern as he watched the distant pair take off; heading northwest towards the mountain.
Altogether, they ran along, flanking the canyon in hopes of finding a way around the vast expanse.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Coughing on soot and ash as flames choked the air, Essie turned around to see Abernathy’s grim expression. Blood soiled his clothes from the corrupted looking demonized creature laying in pieces upon the ground. He offered out his hand towards Penimra, who appeared to be having trouble rising to his feet.
“We can’t just leave these people here,” she wheezed, watching the frightened masses fleeing for their lives in random directions.
There was a heavy silence clouding the group despite the ragged gasps for air. Filth clung to their sweaty bodies in layers; masking their expressions and caking their skin.
A mighty roar cascaded over the lands. With it, trees bent and the ground shook, and the odor of death seemed to permeate the very sky and extend the burning houses into a spreading inferno.
As the ringing in her ears began to dissipate, Essätha rose from her crouched position. A hand reached up, grasping for the ring hanging around her neck by a thin silver chain. It had felt like a weight when she’d first began to wear it. A constant reminder to do better. A constant ache. One look at her reflection and she’d see it hanging there, holding a silver midnight moon’s glow.
It was no longer a symbol of lost things, but of hope and renewal. She could learn to forgive, and heal, and prosper. She had grown despite the doubt and the sneers she never could. In defiance of the world around her, she not only learned to survive, but to thrive and remain gentle at heart.
“What can we do for them?” Penimra cried out against the shouting. “They’re as fucked as we are.”
“We can move them south,” Essie cut in, meeting Abernathy’s gaze as he looked between them all. He regarded her, with ash on their brows and smeared on their mouths and a haunted gaze.
“We have to try.”
A ghostly smile appeared on his face. He gave a nod, his hair bobbing with his head. It appeared less of snow and more like their fellow nobleman’s; smudged with gray and black.
“We’ll separate into teams to take different districts. I will…”
She already drowned out his words. Her eyes turned towards the weight of a gaze that was on her, and had moved away as she looked. Tired lines beneath their sea-depth colored eyes that flared with of all things, determination. Hope. Trust.
Her mouth wobbled unexpectedly. It was hard to look any of them in the eye without feeling an overwhelming sense of loss and fear. Looking at Lord Amon however, left the largest gaping hole of all in her heart. She was just starting to get to know him in a new light. They shared something new and thrilling; filled with excitement and yearning and… now…
“… and that leaves Amon with me.”
Look at how much you’ve grown, Essie thought with a flood of great pride. She wondered if he saw it too; wondered if he knew. He should know himself so well to see this: the way the crippling weight upon him like the great story of Atlas had hunched his shoulders and made him bitter and resistant had eroded with the tides. Little by little, he was chiseled anew with life once more. His heart reemerged to let in the world as he let himself out, free of his confines.
And she’d sank in the depths of his ocean. No harbor ever safer.
While they began to murmur words of encouragement, Essätha kept her brave face through a false smile. She held to Adela’s hand, and snickered at Penimra’s sass. While Pri’cha and Abernathy spoke to her, her head bobbed with understanding. Hands behind her neck, she fiddled with the latch to her necklace as they stepped aside and she approached the one figure who had their gaze adverted to the smoggy sky.
“M’lord.”
He was slow to respond. His eyes torn from the scorched black clouds to her gradually. Captured upon her light brown gaze with a shrouded blankness.
She fidgeted with the ends of the chain. Biting upon her lower lip, Essie pushed up on her tiptoes to better reach for him. Amon grew stiff for a moment, but gradually inclined his head down so she could latch the jewelry around his neck.
Settled on her heels once more, her eyes darted over his chest. He followed the transfixed state, looking upon the small band dangling below his collarbone.
A tightness grasped her throat, and made it hard to swallow. Reaching up, Essätha patted her hand gingerly upon her mother’s old ring and Amon’s upper torso.
“Mom would have loved you.”
The lulled whisper of words calmed neither of them. As tracks moved over her cheeks and carved paths against the grime on her face, Amon raised a hand. The warmth of his callused palm rested atop the back of her hand, and his unnerved gaze looked upon her. His jaw worked; teeth grinding against each other that she could just barely see, refusing to raise her face.
“I will see you again.”
Essie’s lower lip wobbled. She could almost scold him for lying to her in such a way. He knew better than that. Or maybe he meant what would come after, in which she could never say with any certainty where she was going to be led after all was said and done with her final breathe.
She forced a smile. The best one she could afford to spare, while forcing herself to look up into his face. It would be the last time she could lay her eyes upon it and so she studied him; trying to remember every crease and furrow of his worried complexion and the way fire danced across the reflection of his eyes. The shape of his lips as he tried on a smile, the color of his hair as strands clung to his face and temples in sweaty disarray.
In a choked voice, she whispered, “Take care of that for me, just in case.”
Between the shouting, the crying, the screaming and the bellowing echoes of a monster’s roar, terror rippled over her body and latched hold of her wide-eyed stare. She pulled her hand swiftly free of Amon’s, resisting the urge to sniffle as further tears clung to her lashes and the air began to be hard to draw in as she turned away.
“Wait.”
A gentle hand wrapped around her arm. She could break free and she knew this; but she didn’t struggle as he pulled her back in. The embrace of home in his arms; one she’d never had. Lost and found among family and friends. Learning to love again and in a whole new light in those arms that held to tightly and helped to keep her strong when she no longer wanted to bare her burdens.
He breathed close to her ear. His words curled against the wisps of her dark hair in a soothing murmur as he spoke gently: “I’ll find you, Essätha. I’ll find you again, I promise.”
Though his vow sounded true, the unwavering hold around her tightened as though he was reassuring himself as much as her. An uncertainty lingering in the air as she tried to commit the feeling of his arms around her to memory, and the aroma of her skin even as it smelled mostly of sweat and dirt than the musk of his cologne.
His arms slackened, and once more she was forced to let go of someone that brought her an endless source of joy and smiles. It was too much to ask the universe for another moment, or for something to call her own.
Essätha turned her head, pressing a quick peck to his smudged cheek. She dare not look at his face, and risk seeing the turmoil and sorrow that lay there. She wanted to remember the way he looked when he smiled, at his happiest. When all things no matter how terrible seemed possible to overcome. When there was no overbearing sense of loneliness in the winds and they dared to believe for a future together.
With a last smile and tears running into the corners of her lips, her foot slid to step back.
A weakly startled gasp barely managed to squeak out of her lungs as Amon dragged her back in. His nose nudging her cheek, and a fiercely protective arm around her. His other hand cupped the back of her neck and from there, plunged into her locks.
As alarming and sudden the kiss, his lips knew only gentleness. Fingers twining through her hair and a blazing warmth rushing through her hotter than the flames. Courage mingled with bittersweet anguish.
She grabbed for his jerkin. Desperately moving her hands up to throw her arms around his neck and cling to him. The last good thing she’d ever have.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sulhadur raggedly dragged in oxygen beside her. Her own chest heaved, finding it harder and harder to take in the embers that suffocated her.
As another of the twisted corpses crumpled into dust before them where they sat, they watched the remains of yet another house fall seconds after. The stench of burning hair and flesh was charging the air like a sickening sacrifice. Her own skin was marked with evidence of the flames; scorched and peeling black with raw bloody skin. Lacerations from the mutated creatures too stained her clothes and flesh, but none so much as they did Sul.
“Come on Sul, we need to keep moving north,” she rasped, tugging at the crimson Dragonborn’s chest armor.
He smiled at her; sharp jagged teeth glinting in his maw grizzly with blood. The flicker of his eyelids moved sluggishly. They would close and open partly before closing away, too tired to be able to fight all of his exhaustion.
“We’ve evacuated as many as we can in this area, we have to keep moving.”
A hair-raising garbled blood-curdling cry had her whipping her head around, searching for the source of the creature.
“Keep going, Essätha,” Sul coughed, speckling her shirt with flesh scarlet drops. “I’ll stay behind and hold off the monsters.”
“I’m not leaving you-”
“We won’t stand a chance if we keep stopping to fend off these things. There’s others that still might need our help. Our comrades might still need us, Essie. Go. I’ll catch up to you.”
You’re lying. She raised a hand as though to slap him. She hated him. Furious beyond words that he would even suggest such a ludicrous idea. He wouldn’t be able to hold them all off forever; he might be powerful, but it would be just one solo man with no aid no one to distract them.
Her hand came softly up to the side of his face, and she bent her head down low, weeping openly.
Sul gave a weak chuckle. He slowly pushed her hand aside, and rose to his feet. Gaping holes in his warped armor, and dripping wounds around his joints and the spaces of his plating for mobility.
Another howl carried in the wind, closer this time.
“Go, Essätha,” Sul growled, hefting up the massive glowing blade. “I’ve got this.”
It was not cowardice that gave her aching limbs strength. The conviction in the Dragonborn’s words did so; and sure enough she got to her protesting feet. They wanted to drag in the dirt and stone, but she found strength to scramble first, and then sprint ahead. The wind passed her by; barely making it to the bottom of her lungs.
Whipping her head around as the fire crackled all around, she spotted the creatures closing in on Sul. His sword whipped around and moved in a mighty thrust to the closest one, and flames billowed out from his maw as more swarmed in from the sides towards him.
She turned away, heart twisting, frightened to see him fail, and fall.
There would be nothing left fighting for.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Barely any magic coiled in a mist around her any longer. Sparks like miniature stars flickered and danced around her fingertips.
She had little to nothing left. Her magic all but mostly spent on the fiendish creatures. Huddled masses of people she’d saved were running by in a blur, and she could hardly see as her vision doubled and returned to normal. Smoke lined her throat; filled her nostrils and burned her eyes. There was no marching order to the chaos; it all seemed to come at once, from every direction, and she was alone and tired.
Staggering over dead bodies, Essätha raised her hand and choked out an incantation, watching as another dead body thudded to the ground only to turn to dust seconds later.
Gods and Goddesses, give me strength, she prayed, gasping loudly as she clutched a hand to a throbbing wound at her side.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Her knees hit the ground, and then her palms. Blood pebbled up on her palms as she tried to catch her breath, to no avail. Shaking like a leaf, her eyes turned up to the sneering face peering down.
Death’s hood seemed to briefly embellish the creature, and it raised it’s warhammer.
An arrow whistled through the air and embedded itself nearly to the feathered fletching of the shaft through the beast’s head. It swayed for a moment, seeming stupified or drunk, and suddenly fell to the side with its stolen weapon crashing into the ground and its body fading before her.
Essätha spat; particles of the creature’s dust on her lips as she trembled. Her head lifted as she struggled to her feet. Pain seared into her side and she gasped, doubling over.
Before she could hit the ground and curl up a miserable, whimpering ball arms grabbed at her shoulders and yanked her up. Their clothes smelled of death and blood and smoke, but there was familiarity in the gentle care in which they held her.
“M’lord Amon!” she crooned, digging her fingernails into the fur lining of his cloak. “What are you doing here, what-”
She caught sight of his face. A purple-hued bruise swelled his split lip and his eyes were large and luminous. There was a mat of blood on the side of his head where his hair stuck out and he was more sooty now than ever. His gloves were gone, and his clothes were tattered and torn; coated red. Further bruises seemed to hiding just beneath his sleeves, and there were rope burns on his hands.
Frazzled, she began to babble stupidly: “Where’s Abernathy? Why are you here; weren’t you supposed to be going to help Aylin and Ravamora I don’t, I-”
“Abernathy’s with them now,” he gasped, reaching out to her. She flinched with surprise as his raw, bloody hands reached for her. They shook horrendously as he gently cupped her cheeks, and cradled her face.
A hiccup pressed past her lips, and her eyelashes fluttered as she leaned into his touch. She sighed, choking on a whimper of agony. Her hand slid across the back of his, and despite the gore and sore flesh, she turned her face to kiss upon his filthy fingertips.
“Essie, where is Sul?”
Her chest rose; heaving as a sob broke through her. All she could do was shake her head, mumbling almost incoherently through her tears, “I don’t know. He told me to go- he told me to run he- he was holding off some of the creatures I lost him I don’t know I-”
“Shhhh,” Amon hushed, dropping his hands to grab her once more and drag her into his chest. A weak cry broke through her; splintering her heart as she held to his cloak.
For a brief moment, she allowed herself to bury her face into his charred cloak. Let the shaky heaves of her sobs rake through her chest, and feel the security of her Lord Amon’s hands smooth down her back even if his flayed hands probably hurt to do so.
“You should be with them,” she muttered; voice cracking as she reached up to wipe at her face. “This wasn’t part of the plan you- you couldn’t have known if I was alive-”
Cooing with gentleness, Amon placed a hand against her cheek and wiped at the damp circles beneath her eyes. His voice barely a breath; hardly audible against the groaning buildings collapsing and roasting flames as he stated softly: “If the world’s going to end, Essätha, I want to be right by your side as the stars go out.”
“I told you I’d find you,” he rasped, allowing her to sag into his grasp as she choked on weak sobs. “I promised you.”
Her body quivered. She should never have doubted him.
Fingers dragging against his collar, she held to him tight.
She’d never doubt him again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The mountain monster towered above them. So high, Essätha could not even see its eyes as it lumbered across the ground. With each step of its mighty clawed feet, the ground shook and dirt caved beneath its prints into large indentations.
People were screaming, caught beneath the clawed toes and swing of its massive tail. As it lowered its head, the beast gobbled up fleeing humans by the mouthful.
No blades pierced it; no arrows found a mark. Magic seemed to do nothing to the natural armor plating of the beast’s thick, scaly armor. It bounced off or seemed to evaporate against its form.
Essätha screamed; her voice breaking at its highest point as the monster went for Ravamora after she fired an arrow up at the beast’s snout. She barely dove forward enough to miss being taken into its maw and caught upon its chin, but the beast swung its head wildly and she went flying.
Aylin cursed the vile beast, but it seemed to have no affect. It opened its mouth, and a plume of fire erupted, burning him to cinders along with a group of people running for their lives.
There was nothing left of him.
Nothing.
Tapping into the last reserves of her magic, she pointed at the creature’s face. Tears swam in her vision as she uttered a string of words to herself. Violet magic sputtered, and suddenly bloomed along her hands and fired a barrage skyward.
When the last of the power began to tapper, Essätha howled. Her energy began to drain fast, and a dizziness began to drag at her feet.
Tiredness. She was so tired…
The head of the beast shook, and turned town towards her.
Life ebbed out of her soul, and into her magic. Blazing white; it crashed in rippling waves over the god-like titan. It gave a sound of agony as a blast didn’t ricochet, but splashed over its eye.
Blackness swirled around the corners of her vision. Her knees began to unbuckle.
“Essätha! Essätha that’s enough, stop!”
Someone grabbed at her waist, and she slumped. Gasping for air, she was a limp doll in Amon’s arms as he seized her, feverish wild eyes boring into her as he hoisted her up.
“We’re not going to win this fight!” Adela called out. “We need to retreat!”
Her head lolling, Essätha looked up. She could only just make out Amon’s face as her vision began to steadily clear. His eyes were filled with fright as he cradled her against his chest, huffing for air.
She was bouncing in his grip like they were… running?
“Amon…?”
“You scared me half to death,” he choked, his eyes darting down to meet her gaze. His pulse was rapid against her palm as she rested her hand against his neck.
She smiled weakly. Exhaustion tugged at her, but it was deeper than just the need for sleep. It felt… colder. Like the ensnaring fingers of Death’s bony digits upon her, then pulled just out of reach.
He stumbled, cursing as he nearly dropped her.
“Let me stand; you can’t carry me the whole way.”
“No, I-”
A mighty roar pierced the air; drumming in her eardrums and aching her skull. She cursed, and Amon’s lips moved in what she assumed was much the same.
Digging its feet into the ground, the beast turned a glare in their direction.
Essätha could make out the blinded discoloration of its right eye where she’d struck it with her magic.
It began to inhale, light brewing along its teeth and in the back of its throat.
Gasping for air, Essätha grabbed at Amon’s face. He turned to look at her, screwing up his features like she’d touched a sore spot.
“You have to put me down!” she squealed. “You have to put me down and run-!”
Boots tripping up, Amon cursed lividly, falling to his knees. Blood welled up on his kneecaps and he turned, looking over his shoulder at what she had been looking at.
His eyes moved back down towards her.
“Essie, I could never outrun the cone-”
“You could try!”
He smiled slowly. Acceptance in his eyes, and he pulled her closer with one arm while gripping his cloak; pulling the torn remains up to shroud the white light beginning to engulf the horizon.
She clawed at him; trying to drag herself up as tears swam in her vision.
“Amon please-”
“Don’t look back, Essätha,” he murmured softly. “Look at me.”
Strangling against the lump in her throat, her eyes moved over to catch sight of his eyes. Dark pools of the ocean pulling her in.
His grin broadened, leaning over her like a protective blanket. A scorching heat had sweat breaking out over her skin. The same very same dripped down Amon’s face, from his eyes and on to her. She grabbed for his jerkin; fisting what remained of his clothes in her hands as she looked into his gaze.
There was a sharp, thunderous exhale and a flash of blinding light, and their friends cried out as they watched helplessly as the inferno washed over them, leaving nothing but ash.
