The Primordial Record

Chapter 1873: Father And Son (Final)

The shadow of Vraegar exploded into a gigantic shadow dragon whose roar shook the entire dimension before it took flight and vanished into the heavens. When it reappeared, it was dancing in between the suns, its massive body twirling around with a liquid grace that defied meaning.

Rowan watched this display and laughed as he also drank from the jar. He looked behind him, but didn’t see a shadow; he almost pouted in disappointment. But, suddenly, a shadow with wings appeared behind him, and Rowan laughed… the shadow bowed at him and joined Vrager’s shadow to dance among the suns.

In the distance, the Archai had vanished, but Rowan did not notice, or if he did, he subconsciously suppressed his knowledge of it.

Passing the jar of wine back to Vraegar, Rowan closed his eyes for a bit and opened them when the dragon beside him roared in glee. Rowan took back the jar and took his second long drink, and then he understood why the dragon had roared, because he too did the same.

The first chug of that wine had shattered his inhibitions, giving him a feeling of happiness and the high of reaching a great height as a warrior and an immortal of unmatched power, but the second time he drank, the feeling doubled, tripled, and exponentiated.

His ego, which was straining the limits of what he considered normal, inflated past the event horizon of sanity. Rowan reaches for the concept of limit and finds it’s been deleted from reality. For him, this was not a novel sensation, but he could imagine that for Vraegar it was almost too good to be true.

Rowan could sense the joy and amazement in the heart of his child, and that made him roar alongside the dragon, sharing his joy at this moment.

Time slipped away, and soon not only their shadows were dancing, but Vraegar ragged rowan to his feet and began singing a strange draconic song that he must have plundered from the depths of his racial memory. The song was one of celebration… and loss.

At first, the duo had been dancing and singing aloud, and when the song reached its zenith, it turned wistful, and the dragon began to cry. Rowan opened his arms and consoled his son.

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In time, the wine was exhausted, and they both collapsed to the ground, looking into the heavens. Their shadow still danced in the void, but they were slowly coming down.

The crash, when it comes, was mercifully absent. Vraegar chuckled almost sadly, knowing that there was no hangover in the heaven that the wine had taken him; only the lingering afterimage of omnipotence burned into his retinas.

The voice of his father entered his ears, “You’ll blink, and a thousand years will have passed. This wine is the best I have ever had. I won’t be ordering the creation of a second one; some things in life should only be experienced once.”

Vraegar whispered, not knowing where the words came from, “Is it the reason you did not create more of him?… You know, if there is anyone worthy to be duplicated many times, it was my brother.”

Rowan replied slowly, “I wish I could… make many more of him, but I cannot, Andar made himself with his hands, and my blood had little to contribute to what he became. With all my powers, I cannot protect my children. I watched them die, Vraegar.”

The dragon growled, “It was supposed to be me… I was the one who had everything they wanted. I was meant to die in battle, like all dragons, but he had so much to live for. I never got to see him resurrect the dead girl he carried around with him for a million years…”

Rowan grimaced, “Yeah, I remember her. I also remembered you always teasing him about it and causing you both to fight every time.”

Vraegar smiled, “At the beginning I used to win the battles…”

Rowan frowned, “Are you sure? I remembered…”

“Oh, semantics,” Vraegar interrupted his father, “I did not wish to win, so I always stopped the battle before I could have defeated him. I gave him time to adapt to my move and grow stronger.”

“And he did grow stronger,” Rowan whispered, his gaze distant, “You did well bringing Andar out of his shell.”

The dragon burst into laughter, “Ah, my kindness came back and bit me in the ass quite quickly. I had expected that he would become my equal in a thousand years or more, and that was still giving him too much credit, but that bastard did it in ten!”

Rowan laughed so hard he was holding his side, “I can still see your disbelieving face when he threw you through half a galaxy and you could not stand up for hours… you just kept saying, how, ha ha ha ha ha.”

“Damn, I was so young and did not know how to handle my loss with grace. I returned seven times and was beaten seven times. Ha, talk about a lesson in humility.”

Rowan smiled, “I remembered that still, no matter how he beat you, your actions were still honorable, and you did not go all out. Even then, Vraegar, you knew that your brother was in pain, and you sacrificed your pride to give him the taste of ambition. My boy, you do not give yourself enough credit.”

“Tch, there was nothing to it; if I had given more, I would have killed him.”

Silence fell on both of them for a while, and soon Rowan brought up another memory from the past, and new laughter rang out between them. They were immortals, and their lives were impossibly long; they could discuss what they had experienced for millennia and barely scratch the surface of their collective experience.

Weeks went by as they talked and laughed, and finally their shadows reached the ground. For Vraegar, his shadow appeared behind him, while Rowan’s vanished; it had never been his shadow in the first place.

The dragon slowly sat up, “Father, the things they have taken from us cannot be forgiven. I realize the depths of your pain when the loss of my brother had shaken me to the core, but for you, Father, how much have you lost? Your home, your mother, your friend, your lovers, your children… Again and again, the promise of happiness has been stolen from you, Father, and I am beyond angered at this point.”

Vraegar roared, and flames, red as blood, poured from his mouth and shot into the sky, where they pierced the heavens and tore it in two, exposing the inner workings of the dimension.

“I ask for nothing much, Father, even if I am to die, let it be in battle with my jaws wrapped around the throat of our enemies. Let those who see our suffering as a means to their goal feel the sting of our fury. I felt so useless for so long, knowing that my enemy was too far away to ever be touched. Use me, Father, let my body and soul be consumed in the fires of war.”

Rowan was silent for a long time and he spoke slowly, “Your wish would be granted.” Still lying on the ground, Rowan whispered but Vraegar heard him and the dragon shivered,

“Cry havoc! and let slip the dog of war.”