Dragon’s Wisdom

"Huh?" Leona couldn't believe what she had just heard. "The first death angel? But weren't death angels created by Jakob?"

Robert nodded once.

"You are right, it was or rather, they were."

"They?"

"Jakob was the progenitor of the first two death angels. The two of them being his own son and his daughter-in-law. Needless to say, it was a messed up set of affairs." He pinched his nose ridge and sighed. "Thanks to him, now they have become mindless husks with the only purpose to create more and more death angels."

"Wait… you knew of it?"

"How wouldn't I? Back then I was still Lastraeous' champion. The void god planted this idea in that crazed old man's head that he could bring the soul back to a functional body using the body of his own son and daughter-in-law."

"Why…"

Leona clenched her hand into a tight fist as her voice trembled with anger.

"Hm?"

"Why didn't you stop him?!" She slammed her closed fist on the couch. "Do you understand how many lives were lost fighting against death angels?!"

"Because it was necessary." He answered her hatred filled glare with conviction in his own eyes. "Think about it. The only reason why you were recognized as the princess tactician was because of the battle at Lugna Plains. Had I wiped out the death angels, that battle would have never occurred, you would have never chosen the path to fight against it and thus, you would never be able to escape from that mansion with your life."

"Then do you believe my life to be worth more than the thousands that died at that battle?!"

"No, but you cannot hope to compare it against the entire world. I've told you before and I'll say it again, you are the key to ending this conflict."

She clenched her teeth as a bitter sensation started to form on the back of her throat. She had accepted that she was weak, too weak to fight on her own, to fight for her ideals, but she couldn't bear to know that many lives that could be saved, were sacrificed for her own survival.

"You don't even know how worthy of a ruler I really am. How can you spout this nonsense?"

"I don't need to." His eyes had a sharp glare that reeked of confidence. "Does a tyrant question their own methods to rule? Does a marionette look beyond its strings to the puppeteer? Does a coward unsheathe his blade when faced with danger? All the answers for those questions are no. But what about you? You question your methods, you look beyond the clouds towards the sky above and most important of all, you are not afraid of conflict."

"Even if you say that…"

"Look. Even if I did wipe out the death angels at this point in time. It would only serve to worsen the current state of affairs for your kingdom. Without a common enemy to fight against, Akrapocalis would soon turn its blades against Arcadia and its people. Unless you truly believe the dwarven king to be that naive and let this prime opportunity escape his grasp."

She averted her gaze. In truth she knew better than anyone the relationship between Arcadia and the dwarven citadel was less than ideal thanks to the other noble houses inciting a war to reclaim what Arcadia had lost.

After a moment of silent reflection, Leona looked at him with a sharp glare.

"Fine, you made your point clear, but let me say this once. I don't like your methods."

He chuckled sourly.

"You don't need to. We both walk completely different paths." He grabbed the glass of wine and swirled the red liquid around the sides of the cup. With a wry smile he finished his drink before saying. "Tis' true, their blood is on my hands, but what is a thousand lives to three entire worlds?"

"..."

"Apologies, I'm just weary from all of this." He sighed as he settled the empty glass on the stool. "In truth, I've been waiting for this moment for what feels to be a lifetime. What we set in motion today will determine the fate of tomorrow and beyond. But I can't expect you to understand the burden of saving an entire world."

"You speak as if it is your duty to protect it. You're not from this world and yet…"

"It's my way to atone. Atone for all the futures I've cut short. At some point I would have stopped caring, but Xenovia reminded me of what it truly means to be human."

Her furrowed brows softened when hearing his words.

"What do you mean?"

"You'll only understand it when you become immortal." He stared at his hand slowly clenching into a tight fist. "Hunger, sleep, thirst… can you imagine yourself not needing any of it?"

"Of course not." She shook her head. "That's impossible."

"I wish it was impossible for me." He opened his hand and an eerie dark miasma seemed to seep out of his palm. "When the soul becomes too dense—too strong to die—basic needs of the body are replaced with the sensation of eternal satiety. Your mere existence becomes a rule within the world. I can't age nor I can't die."

"Robert…"

"But this is my burden to bear."

He leaned against the armchair and sighed. At that moment, Leona could hear a low bellowing coming from somewhere outside through the air vents.

"What was that…?"

"And I have spoken enough…" He chuckled sourly. "Whenever your grandmother is unhappy with something I did, she'll let me know through her roar."

"Have you done anything?"

"Nothing big. I just stopped her from interfering with your mind." His eyes were somewhat devoid of life as he motioned with his right index finger against the side of his temple. "Dragons have the innate ability to control and communicate with their own brethren."

"Wait… do you mean like full control?"

"Only if you directly share her blood." He placed his right elbow against the armrest while supporting his head with his thumb, index and middle finger spread around the right side of his face. "In your case, she may be able to make you kneel or stop moving altogether but she can't directly control your mind. Needless to say she can still make you unable to rest properly by assaulting your mind, so I took care of that."

"Why would she do that?"

"As I said, she might be misunderstanding the reason why you have come to these lands. I haven't had the time to explain why you've come nor the patience to do so." He twirled his fingers around his temple and rubbed both corners of his eyes. "We should wrap it up for today." After blinking a few times he stood up and headed to the double door that led outside. "See if you can get some rest. You'll need it for tomorrow."

"Sure…" She watched as he left the room. "Hmm…"

"I'm sorry for Father." A female voice came from the side, startling her. Upon turning her head she noticed Setsuna was taking both the silver platter and empty wine glass off the wooden stool. "He becomes like that whenever talks about the past."

"No, I should be the one to apologize." She shook her head slightly. "He was right, this problem with the death angels is ours to solve. He seems to have finally found some semblance of peace with you and your sister. It wouldn't be fair if I demanded more of him."

Setsuna proceeded to speak with a faint smile on her face.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. Father can still get emotional at times and it's only natural that you'll feel like your struggles are nowhere near his, after all, he is comparing more than three of his lifetimes to our own." Before she left, she offered some last words to her. "Only those close to you will comprehend your struggles and the sacrifices you made to get this far. Don't sell yourself short because what you have accomplished until now will become the strength to lead you to the future you seek."

"You're too kind, Setsuna."

"I'm only speaking the truth."

She gave her a last reassuring smile as she headed off to the kitchen.

Once alone, Leona had time to finally set her thoughts straight. There was just much to take in.

The existence of the first death angels, her great grandmother that was none other than a platinum dragon and her training to obtain power to fight and meet them. She had a bitter smile curling up her face as she muttered quietly.

"In the end, what I'm lacking—what I have always been lacking—was power."

"Might makes right." Her own voice echoed inside her mind. Though she recognized her authoritarian and ruthless self. The Empress of Annihilation. "Only the victor has the right to write the history that makes up the world. The defeated are casted down as villains and made stepping stones for those in power."

It was as if the memories she had seen through Avalon's eyes were now trying to take a hold of her mind. Leona chuckled sourly as she muttered.

"You are just a memory of my past self." She then grabbed the frostburnt silver longsword and unbuckled its sheathe from her hip before leaving it against the couch as she laid down. "A shade, nothing more." She sourly chuckled as she closed her eyes. "Though, I won't deny that you are still part of me."

The lights within the hall were dimming as the other residents started to come to the hall in order to sleep.

Setsuna was shouldering Phoebe as they both exited out of a door beneath the left-most staircase. The high elf was struggling to walk as she used her free left hand to support her weight against the wall and eventually against chairs and tables that were near her vicinity.

"Geez Phoebe." The shrine maiden was clearly displeased with her furrowed eyebrows and serious glare. "I realized you want to walk on your own again but falling in the bathroom can be dangerous, you know. What if you hit your head?"

"Ngh… I'm fine."

"Your bruised leg says otherwise."

Looking down, Phoebe noticed there was a red spot near her right knee.

"Bah, it was just a minor injury, I won't die from it." She took another step with her right foot and winced upon putting weight on said leg. "Ugh…"

"It won't kill you but it'll hurt like there's no tomorrow. Come on, stop being stubborn."

They both made their way to the left side of the main hall which was furnished with sofas around a small wooden table. Once Phoebe sat down, it felt like heavy weights were lifted off her legs.

"Aah…" She sighed in relief, but at the same time she turned to the shrine maiden and asked. "These legs are made out of slimes for goodness sake, why is it so painful?"

"Because they are an exact replica of the real thing, or Father said it." Setsuna kneeled down and placed her right hand on top of her leg. "Though I must admit, looking closely it's hard to believe it's not your leg."

"Thanks I guess?"

A weak green light emanated from the palm of Setsuna's hand and the reddened bruise slowly disappeared.

"There. But you shouldn't go walking around by yourself you hear?"

"Yeah, yeah, thanks…"

Setsuna stood up and looked around the dim room. Yuna was placing a blanket on Leona before heading off with her own towards one corner of the room that had a puff chair made out of stuffed wool and thick furs. Krieg was about to sit on the carpet beside the tactician but the older shrine maiden decided to approach him.

"You won't be able to get a good night's sleep if you lay on the floor like that."

"Hm? Don't need to concern yourself with me, Lady Setsuna. I'm quite used to sleeping anywhere."

"Now, now, this isn't just anywhere. Come on." She grabbed his arm and to his surprise, she was able to lift him up as if she was handling a child. "You're a fellow guest of this household. I can't just let a guest sleep on the floor."

She dragged him away.

Yuna watched everything from the puff chair she was sunk almost halfway in.

"Hmm.."

She quietly mumbled in the dark as she blinked a few times while looking at the couch where Leona was sleeping on.

Through her eyes, she could see a shadow amidst the tactician's lingering mana—not unlike a heat haze on a scorching day.