"We Needed You for That"
The Starlit Temple of Elaides was made of the same gray stones as most of Starshadow. It was the second largest building in the city. It had one tall central turret, and four smaller turrets. Stained glass windows adorned the building depicting scenes of stars, darkness, spirits, and all things Elaides. Elaides was often depicted as an especially pale woman with black eyes with no pupils or irises and long black hair dotted with stars or a majestic Onyx Dragon also dotted with stars. The architecture was said to date back to the Fifth Age of Utraeus.
No one in the procession was in the mood to appreciate the splendor. Acolytes adorned in pale robes came out to the hearse and toted the pall the body of Ludvig was laying on. The families came down from the carriages and followed. They entered large double doors and followed the pallbearers across the nave to the catafalque, setting the shroud covered body atop it. Behind the catafalque stood a Priest in dark robes with several stoles draped around his neck. He wasn't the High Priestess. Sonja specifically requested the High Priest not be involved in the funeral process.
The Priest waited for Sonja's nod to start the ritual. He chanted in Emphyralian Draconic, praying to Elaides to judge the deceased fairly and give comfort to his family. The traditional funeral rites expounded on Elaides' wisdom and sense of fairness. It comforted the family to never worry that they would be unfairly judged. Elaides would be able to see beyond one's actions and into their heart.
In this case, it wasn't very comforting. The heart Elaides saw was probably not very clear. The Shadowclaw sisters sobbed as he spoke. The Starshadow family was solemn and stoic in contrast.
There was a weighty pause when the Priest finished the passage. "Now that we have beseeched Elaides' infinite wisdom in judgment of Ludvig Shadowclaw's soul, it is time to return his body to the body of Utraeus, Father of All," he intoned. All this time, Ludvig's upper body had been exposed. Now the Priest covered him with the shroud.
This important part of a Dragon's funeral ritual was one of the reasons the Dragon Hunters stealing their bodies after death was so horrendous. It wasn't just ghoulish. It was sacrilegious. The Dragon Gods gave them their bodies. When they died, they would return their bodies to them.
"Please kneel," the Priest said to the mourners and attending acolytes. The shuffling of fabric filled the air as the women adjusted skirts and acolytes adjusted robes to get their knees. Roark didn't have this problem. They also bowed forward slightly, heads down.
The priest lit some candles. The flames flickered in a myriad of colors. He pulled out a candle and began speaking in Emphyralian Draconic again. "Oh, Utraeus, God of Time, Father of All. One of your children has left this world and an empty shell remains behind. Please accept the offering of his mortal remains. May he return to you and be reborn anew in whatever form you deem fit," he poured a sparkling liquid in a crystalline chalice. He offered it to the sky. "This one beseeches Father to accept," he intoned and drank the liquid. He set the chalice down and then knelt to the ground to prostrate himself toward the body.
"This one beseeches Father to accept," everyone intoned in unison and prostrated themselves as well.
They didn't look up, but they knew the moment Ludvig's body was reclaimed. It was like an electric pressure they felt over their own bodies. When the feeling subsided, they raised themselves. In the place of Ludvig's body was a glittering, multicolor, flame as if a crystal sculpture was animated. It burned for a few moments before fading away.
It was only at this moment that the two young girls sniffled and shed tears. Roark hugged them close. Even Sonja felt a bit emotional. Not because she felt sad for the loss of Ludvig, but for the loss of another life unnecessarily. She wondered vaguely if Father Utraeus mourned all those who he had to reclaim in recent times. He must, for he was compassionate.
Roark helped the girls to their feet, then his mother, and finally the aunts. They were all messes who could barely stand. They wanted to rebuff his help, but really couldn't do it without him.
"Come, everyone, let's go back to the Castle for the farewell feast," Sonja said. "Priest Jakabi is welcome to join us," she said to the Priest.
Jakobi bowed slightly. "Thank you, no, your Grace. I have prior commitments," he intoned flatly. He was a granite faced old human. It wasn't just Dragons who worshiped the Dragon Gods. Almost every race in the world did to some degree. They created Emphyralis, which became a haven for every race now living there. Worship at Temples was always filled with a mix of people of all kinds. Jakobi was a long time member of the Temple of Elaides, starting in his home town and working his way up to a senior Priest in the Starlit Temple. However, he didn't know if it was an honor or a punishment to oversee that particular funeral. He left the chancel and walked out of the nave. The acolytes would clean up.
Sonja sighed and led everyone out. Even the sisters didn't put up a fight. They rode the carriages back to the Castle. A farewell feast was just a meal to honor the dead. She was sure it would be awkward, but luckily, afterward, she could start moving on with her life and help her children move on. She wouldn't let Ludvig Shadowclaw be a blight to them.
After the meal, rather than stay around and argue with Sonja, the Shadowclaw sisters would leave before dark. They would mourn at home where their memories of their brother were better. They would be distant aunts, sending presents to their nieces, but rarely seeing them in person from then on. It was hard for them. Neither Phaedra nor Ophelia felt too sad about it. They rarely saw their aunts before. Anytime they visited before, it was mostly to visit their father, not his children. They still tried to outdo each other in terms of luxury and expense. It was as normal as it would ever be.
As for their future niece or nephew? It was too hard for them to even see the last thing their brother left behind in this world. They would treat that child the same as the girls. They would send expensive gifts, trying to outdo each other, but rarely interacting personally. It was all they could do. Their hearts just hurt too much.
--
Hua Guo, Terranthea
A hulking, lizard-like demon roared and spit a glob of acidic spit at a figure that jumped agilely out of the way. The figure had golden blonde hair, pointed ears, an ethereal face, and wore light gray clothes. White wings seemed to grow from his back. Sharp teal green eyes glared at the demon as he gripped a shining sword.
They were in front of a semi-rural temple shrine. It was one of the country's fourth tier cities. Witchborn were from all over the world. Ancients might have interpreted demons and magic in different ways, and the witchborn may even practice in different ways, often calling themselves mystics. They would follow their individual paths. Now their "religion" was known as feudal superstitions. They never stopped practicing, but were mostly referred to as quacks, charlatans, god sticks, or magic sticks.
Their country was among the first to implement anti-witch laws, specifically targeting those who practice "feudal superstitions". As one of the most surveilled countries in the world, finding safehouses was hard. Even before the anti-witch sentiment spread globally, witchborn here would often suddenly disappear.
In this area, they finally managed to gain refuge in the temple of a nationally recognized religion. The monks here were kindly and peace loving. Being a small, insignificant city, the surveillance wasn't as concentrated. However, the sudden influx of strangers was sure to gain attention.
People began to become suspicious. Police investigated, but the monks hid them. The witchborn hiding here were almost hopeless. Not long ago, a newcomer brought hope. They were tech savvy and managed to access the internet of another country. Their country's netizens were protected by a national firewall. This person told them about the angels. They didn't believe in angels, but they believed something was happening.
Just when they were gaining hope, the people in the neighborhood began to gather and demand answers from the monks. The monks tried to protect them, but there was a demon in the crowd, driving them. The person with the ability to get over the firewall, called for help and prayed to the gods that the angels would come for them.
Just as the crowd was getting really rowdy and began to attack the monks, they learned the monks were martial monks. Getting frustrated the demons attacked the monks itself. They fought back fiercely enough that it had to attack with its demonic power.
That was fine. It would just kill everyone and blame it on the witches. It changed shape and spit at a monk. He wasn't fast enough to dodge and had half his upper body burned off.
That was when the angel dropped out of the sky. He kicked the demon out of the way. It went flying and went on the attack.
The mob was afraid and agitated. The monks were shocked and wary. Tensions were high, but a woman who looked like them with her fair skin, small face, and peach blossom eyes breathed in a deep breath. Her throat briefly glowed purple and she blew her breath out. A purple haze floated through the crowd. Tempers calmed; they stopped fighting.
Lazarus stood next to the woman and got hit with her Harmony Breath. She was Meili Mystvale, a Jade Dragon who'd joined the Sunfyre military. Her Harmony Breath had come in handy several times over the last few days.
"Watch out," he said and moved her aside and a demon head landed where she'd been standing.
Everyone gasped and stared as the body of the demon crumpled. The angel looked at them fiercely and then jumped into the sky, mist gathering around him as he disappeared.
Lazarus almost laughed. Troi Darkwynde was the Terrantheans' favorite "angel". Even though a few of the guards that joined them later from Wyntercrest and Sunfyre might suit the "image" as well or better, for some reason this "ocean eyed" angel was popular. Lysithea and Delaney often teased him by showing him fanart of him posted online. A lot of it was not very angelic. He was too embarrassed to look at anyone after that. Aside from the one-year-old Pasha, he was the youngest person there, and still a bit thin-skinned. He was fun to tease.
He didn't have wings. Britiana and ZsaZsa made fake wings for people without natural wings to wear. When activated, they'd look like real wings and function like real wings.
When they were responding to emergency calls, they traveled in fours. There was a drake, an "angel", and two infiltrators. Once the angel's job was done, they'd make contact with the witchborn safehouses and distributed portable transfer spells.
With the influence of the Harmony Breath, the locals, shocked at their own behavior, scattered. The monks were relieved. They looked at the strangers. One was western and one was eastern. An older monk nodded to them. "Come to hide?" he asked cautiously.
Lazarus smiled and shook his head. "No, we've come to help them," he answered. His Sapphire Dragon ability of All Hearing allowed him to understand all spoken language. Meili smiled stiffly. She didn't have the same gift, so she just smiled absently.
The monk was surprised by the white man answering him. "Come," he said. He and the other monks led the two into the temple. He summoned the witchborn hiding there. "These strangers have come to help you," he said. Then he bowed to Lazarus and Meili. "I'll leave the benefactors to discuss amongst themselves," he said, and he and the other monks seemed to disappear.
The techy witchborn stepped forward. "Are you them? The ones going behind the angels helping the witchborn?" he asked, showing him Lysithea's app.
Lazarus nodded. He produced a handful of portable spells. "Distribute these. You'll be able to go somewhere safe," he said.
The witchborn were emotional. They bowed and thanked them. They wept and celebrated. A few of them even went down to their knees and tried to kowtow. He quickly put an end to that. "I'm not the one to thank," he said quickly. "Here, take these. Gather your things and go quickly," he quickly distracted the people by stuffing the spells in their hands.
Meili laughed slightly at his discomfort. Once all the witchborn present had the spell, they scattered to gather their things and their families. Lazarus looked for the head monk again. He left a stack of spells for them to give to witchborn who came there for sanctuary.
After they were done, they left the temple, and the neighborhood. They met Troi, who was also wearing a disguise cloak with a Drake disguised as a hawk sitting on his shoulder. "All done?" he asked brightly. His few days on Terranthea gave him a lot of hands-on experience with actual combat.
"Let's head back," Lazarus said. They each activated their cloaks and turned into fist sized capsules. The Drake gathered them into her pouch. She flapped her wings, flew in circles, picking up speed until she disappeared with a crack.
--
Nova Aurelea
Over the past almost week, the operation on Terranthea worked out its kinks as more personnel arrived. A short, dark skinned man with a bushy auburn beard, deep yellow-ish brown eyes, pointed ears and more braids than one could count had arrived. He was a Topaz Dragon with a dwarven form. He easily shored up the earth under the low lying Nova Aurelea. He expanded the bomb shelter with new rooms. He built a separate tunnel to the portal room so that the Crowley's wouldn't have a bunch of strangers traveling through their house. They really appreciated that.
Gorka Deepheart was slightly grumpy, but a little bashful. He was a powerhouse at Terrakinesis and could move a ton of earth by himself if given enough time. He was modest; didn't like to show off. He responded gruffly to praise but was secretly blushing under his beard.
With his help, there was enough room to hold refugees.
Romily and Wilson's presence was also very helpful. Because they were Technopaths, they learned the technology of Terranthea very quickly. Technopathy was a Ruby Dragon ability to communicate and control technology with their minds. All they had to do was touch a computer or a phone and they could see how it worked and interacted. They may not understand all the underlying principles, but it was enough to monitor the network Lysithea built, and even approve upon it.
Being the stronger technopath, Romily found that because of her ability of Technopathic Sync, which was the ability to mentally sync with technology, she could mentally control herself on the internet as if she was a program. With her ability to Techopathically Network, she could bring Wilson into the internet as well. She didn't do it often, it was tiring, and they usually worked in shifts so they could care for the baby as well.
There were logisticians to cook, organize, and care for refugees as they arrived at the shelter. They'd take basic information, then someone would escort nine people to Emphyralis and hand over the information, where it would be verified, and everyone would be registered. Sapphire Dragons were in charge of these functions for the most part because of their ability of All Hearing. There were thousands if not millions of languages spoken on Terranthea and the witchborn spoke to them all.
Angel teams didn't only fight against demons and rescue witchborn, they also gathered intel as they forayed into the world, learning about the intricacies of their society. They learned that witchborn were not the only supernatural beings on Terranthea. The others had no desire to leave their homes on Terranthea, able to remain hidden.
Darius was happy with the progression of the operation. Soon he would be able to hand off operations to Lazarus and Amadeus. Delaney was so grateful to them. She just contributed to saving them from Dragon Hunters. They saved her entire people. She could never repay such a debt.
Britiana and ZsaZsa taught the logisticians that were second tier mages how to make portable spells. Everyone had stasis and disguise cloaks. She and Darius agreed. It was time to go back. There was one thing holding them back.
They were both sure the demons were under-reacting to their actions. "Angels" were being persecuted secretly by demon-backed police and military forces overtly and covertly. Sometimes a suspected safehouse was attacked on purpose to draw them out. Each time they besieged an "angel", more appeared to protect the first. It was frustrating for the other side.
Still, Darius suspected that they hadn't seen the most the demons were capable of yet. Britiana agreed. When she was away from people, she sometimes covered her mental shield and something sinister lingered around.
On one such occasion, it was a cloudy night. She came up from the underground house to get some air. She wrapped her hand around the silvery pendant hanging around her neck. The eerie feeling in the air raised every hair on her body. Even with her empath unlocked, a cleared throat still startled her. She let go of the pendant and smiled at Sariya.
"Ready to leave?" she asked kindly.
Sariya nodded. "I just wanted to stay until everything was settled here and you could take care of yourselves," she answered as she approached Britiana. She wasn't wearing her cloak properly, so Britiana could see her white hair glowing slightly in the semi-darkness.
The Dragon girl laughed lightly. "We needed you for that. I wasn't sure we could take care of ourselves either," she admitted. Maybe Darius would have been fine. He was that sort. Responsible, logical, considerate, and thoughtful. Unlike her. She was more intuitive, prone to fanciful thoughts and whimsy. She'd wondered if she could adapt to taking on responsibilities.
On Thelessia, she'd been a thief and a baker who learned magic in her spare time. Her only responsibility was to keep herself alive. Feeding her brother wasn't a responsibility. He was perfectly capable of feeding himself. She just liked to cook when she was bored and needed someone to eat it, so she used him as an excuse.
She didn't seem as though she did badly, but she had to admit, Darius did most of the work. If anyone on Emphyralis heard her thoughts, they'd say that was his job. Women made the big decisions; men took care of the details. Still, he didn't make decisions in a vacuum. He always consulted her and relevant parties.
As for Sariya, maybe one of the reasons she stuck with the siblings so long was that she was afraid to leave and be alone. She didn't know what would be waiting for her in Undirheim. Still, she wanted her daughter to be born among her people and live among them for the first few years of her life.
Britiana reached out and took her hand and squeezed it. Sariya flashed a slight smile.
They were in the slightly rebuilt bottom floor of the ruins of the Crowley House. It had been cleaned up and some of the walls rebuilt. There still wasn't much of a ceiling. The fog was wrapped around the grounds, but the center was clear. She was sitting on a wrought iron patio chair. Sariya moved to sit in another chair. There used to be a veranda here. "The baby has been restless lately," she said. "I also want to get settled in and start nesting," she added with a slight laugh.
Britiana chuckled. "I understand," she said. "Do you mind?" she asked, pointing at Sariya's abdomen.
"Go ahead," the Eoduun gave her permission.
Britiana covered her pendant and then touched Sariya's slightly protruding baby bump. She could feel Sariya's mix of emotions, but it seemed the baby wasn't quite developed enough to have anything resembling emotions yet.
She shifted her consciousness inside to check on everything, nothing seemed amiss, so she came back to herself. Her smile turned into a horrified expression. "Get underground now!" she said, jerking her up and pulling her toward the entrance of the basement while reaching out to Darius.