A Bargain With the Divine

John lived an empty life devoid of emotion or attachment. As a special forces soldier, only the battlefield gave him a sense of purpose, facing death daily with stoic courage. In his final mission, he was gravely wounded. As he felt his life slip away, he felt only numb resignation he was tired too tired to resist.

The darkness seemed endless, with no visible end in sight. John was suspended in this state, detached from the living world. A sense of peacefulness consumed his form, causing him to lose track of time and forget many things, including the faces of his comrades and the names of the places he had been to. Even though he felt familiar with them, he could not recall or recognize them.

As the last threads of memory slipped away, a glint in the blackness broke the eternal nothing. Wisps of vivid azure danced in the formless dark, ancient runes pulsing with dying light. With final flickers of primordial power, two towering forms coalesced from the wisps.

The last traces of the mighty elemental gods, who utilized dragon fire and magic to establish Valyria's grandeur, were slowly disappearing into oblivion. While their strength dwindled to mere remnants, the male identity dissipated into nothingness, but the female form still found significance in his wandering spirit.

With final will reserves, her draconic maw opened in a soundless roar. Claws of azure light snatched John's fading essence, snaring it before the dark consumed all. Through their bond, her ancient thirst for worship poured into his soul - an echo of purpose to fulfill before the gods were lost to the endless night for eternity.

The eyes belonged to the female Valyrian god who had grasped his soul - all that remained of her once-mighty primordial form. Within their flaming depths, he saw faded echoes of her glory across forgotten ages.

Her skull was broad and powerful, scaled flesh pulled taut against the bones. The eyes, each as large as a wagon wheel, held galaxies of blue-white fire within their jewel-like irises. Eons of knowledge and power were imprinted upon her timeworn features, though her howling soul sang with a bittersweet dirge of lost immortality.

Great wings like blackened sails were furled tight against her muscular flanks. Once they blocked out the sun, but now hung in tatters upon an emaciated frame. Her claws, which rent mountains asunder, clutched feebly as dagger-length talons. Her draconic flesh had withered away, leaving only the gleaming bone and flickering essence of what she had been.

"Greetings, stranger. Fear not, for I mean you no harm. My name is Maraxes, the goddess of the noble and powerful Valerian Freehold that once existed."

John was filled with amazement as he beheld a dragon. Many cultures in his world with no prior contact had legends of dragons all of them the same but different in shape. Some tales depicted them as wicked beasts to be defeated, while others revered them as wise and protective deities. Regardless, they were a symbol of immense strength, and now John was face to face with one.

"Greetings, noble dragon goddess of Valeria. My name is John," he spoke respectfully.

Although John felt a certain affinity for the mythical creature, all he wanted was to be done with it and go to hell or maybe even heaven though it would be best if his soul could get eternal sleep.

Maraxes sensed John's reluctance through their bond. She let out a sigh, her ethereal form flickering as the effort further weakened her fading essence.

"I know an eternal sleep sounds appealing after a life feeling adrift," she said, an ancient yet feminine voice echoing through the void. "But I offer purpose once more before oblivion claims us both."

John remained silent as Maraxes explained how Doom's cataclysm shattered the magical geological forces binding her essence to this world. Volcanic firestorms tore Valyria asunder, smoking out worship that sustained her immortality for millennia.

"My children, forged from the Earth's wrath, were undone. The land where our faith took root was cursed and poisoned. Mortals fled in terror, forgetting our glory in the shadow of the Doom."

"The last remnants of my believers, House Targaryen, still cling to the ancient faith my children brought to their shores. But centuries have passed since the Doom, and worship of the old gods has faded from memory. Alone, the blood of the dragon is not enough to rekindle the fires of faith that once sustained our divine might."

Sadness filled her eyes as she spoke the painful truth. "In their exile, the Dragonlords set aside rituals and sacrifices that powered our immortality. Over generations, the lines between god and mortal blurred. Now our names are half-forgotten mysteries, and none alive remember our true worship."

She fixed her fiery gaze upon John. "You must stir the Targaryens to reclaim their heritage in full. Guide them to restore the prayers and practices that will let my fading spirit live again through the magic in their veins. Only then can I reignite the lights of belief and pull my children's house back from the edge of obscurity."

"I mean no offense, goddess, but as a lone individual, I am unsure how to accomplish the task of spreading your religion. The land where I am supposed to plant your faith has seven kingdoms of different beliefs. I require the necessary power to succeed in this quest."

Maraxes understood John's doubts, for the challenge was immense. Yet she had anticipated this, and her response held the power to move worlds.

"Fair questions, mortal," she replied, stellar flames flickering with renewed vigor. "To enact our designs, you must possess all knowledge and skills amassed since Valyria's dawn."

Her claws took his essence gently. Azure dragonfire swirled around them as her song poured into his waiting soul. Countless lifetimes of experience flooded him - legions commanded, magic mastered, adventures spanning epochs.

Wisdom refined over eons imbued John with peerless intellect and charisma to sway nations. The arts of war became second nature, physicality heightened to godly limits. All gathered through her divine children across the ages.

Most wondrous were the sorceries. Arcane secrets buried for millennia were resurrected, magic flowing through his memories in full flower - sorcery to level mountains, wake krakens from the deep, command winds, and flame with but a thought. Blood rituals contained the power to transcend mortality itself.

Maraxes' light blazed, searing these perfected gifts into John's being. Her feminine voice echoed triumphant, certain now of destiny's promise. "With this divine might, you shall become a new god of fire reborn in the mortal realm. None will stand against our glory when Valyria rises a second time."

Her task was fulfilled. The rest was left to this champion of the new dawn, this mortal she had transformed into an eternally living vessel of the original dragonlords' full supremacy. Purpose and divinity were his to wield without limit, so long as the bargain was kept.

As the Goddess' gifts poured into his soul, obliterating the last remnants of his mortal identity, an ecstasy beyond imagining overcame John.

Centuries of knowledge, eons of prowess, the sum total of an ancient pantheon's divinity now resided within him. He was becoming more than man - an immortal avatar of the primordial forces that forged a world. A god in mortal flesh, who would grant the deities new life while walking among mortal men.

To stand at the zenith of creation's pinnacle was rapture like no joy or bliss ever known. Maraxes had empowered him beyond all dreams of power, making him an eternal champion to resurrect her paradise on earth. Through him, immortality would be seized by divine right.

As the last traces of Maraxes' divine light faded away, the full extent of her gifts to the Aureator became clear. Through their connection, he felt a wellspring of ancient magic flow into his remade being - the primal sorcery that had once allowed the dragonlord gods to bond any wyrm to their will.

Moreover, any dragon joined to his essence through this sorcery would know extraordinary growth and vigor. Within months they would achieve a size to match the giants of ancient Valyria. Years would see them towering above mountains, wings blocking out the sun. Their fires would burn hotter than any furnace, scales tough as dragonsteel.

In this way, any wyrm he chose to mount would become a titan to level cities with a flick of their tail or call down storms with a beat of their vast wings. No scorching breath could ever harm their godly rider, draped as they were in scales second only to their master's divinity.

It was this primordial gift - the power to tame and empower any dragon to match immortal standards - that would let the Aureator spread his faith far and wide. For who could stand against a god astride beasts grown large enough to best the eldest of their kind?

His soul sang with sacred purpose as the Goddess' light and song faded into darkness. Voice ringing with newfound eternal majesty, John-made-divine swore oaths in the nameless tongue of the first dragons.

"Magnificent Goddess, your gifts I shall wield to spread the glory of your name across all lands and peoples! None shall deny your divinity again. From the ashes of lost Valyria shall a new empire be forged, to last until stars fall from the heavens. All worship shall be gifted to you and the pantheon forevermore!"

Where her power waned, his would flourish in full magnificence. The Aureator had ascended to walk among men as the living embodiment of primal dragons' divine sovereignty. And from this day forth, rebirth and conquest would begin.

The Goddess heard her champion's sacred oaths echoing through the realm of shadows. Infinite weariness still weighed heavily upon her ethereal form, yet sublime rapture shone in her fading eyes of azure flame.

"Rise, mighty Aureator, and let our prayer be made manifest," Maraxes' melodic voice resounded with eternity's gratitude. "Through you, divinity shall live again in the lands where we forged a world from fire and magic uncounted ages past."

She sensed the wellspring of celestial power now surging in his remade essence, illuminating the endless night brighter than any star. All that she and her immortal pantheon once comprised now resided in this champion who would fulfill their undying song.

A lullaby of ancient splendor filled the void as the Aureator's pledge rang clear. Maraxes squeezed the last flashes of light from her ethereal claws in reverence for all he would accomplish. Her soul, now buoyed by faith in prophecy's dwelling at long last, embraced the sweet slumber of deities revered by mortal and immortal alike once more.

"Go forth, and raise up Valyria everlasting!" echoed her fading cry into the eternal dark. "Through you, we live...and live beyond...Let dragonfires ignite...our names...and power...for all...eternity..."

Darkness swallowed Maraxes as her essence passed into blessed sleep, never entirely to fade while worship was kept in temple and heart alike. The Aureator's work had only begun, to make real a godly dream eons in the dreaming