Ep 50. For Our Future Did . (2)

  “…And using our respective divinities, we remade the star acc to Felicir’s vision. I suppose that was the true end of the demon era.”

  “…”

  A deep frown crossed the dragonlord’s face. Her eyes emptily stared down into the wooden table between her and Iris as memories fshed before her, both past and present eras alike.

  Why was it that only the dragonkin survived through the millennium?

  The dragons’ survival had remained an unexpined fortuil now. Among the seven demon tribes, it was odd that no other tribe had survived besides her own. Serenis had entrusted Vulka with the kin’s survival, but surely, the other lords would have dohe same; surely, they would’ve left behind something to tiheir legacies.

  None of them would amount to anything. The legacies of other tribes had died with their knowledge of the divine. All who remembered the previous era – all who khe truth of the Twelve’s divinity – had been erased.

  Then, and only then, would the Twelve truly e to be revered as genuiies by the new life they created.

  ‘...By the will of a single mortal…’

  Man and demon alike had perished. Serenis could hardly reize her own world. The star she’d she cherished had been ly erased from history, its only remains her few surviving kin and the twelve deities.

  The dragonlord’s hollow ughter echoed throughout the house.

  What exactly was it that she severed at her world’s summit?

  “The demonkin, we…surrendered our future. Ever sihe First maniputed mankind with gifts of power to annihite our kin, our fates had already been decided.”

  “…A number of heroes rose to power through diviion. I do remember that.”

  “We instead challehe First himself, knowing we were marg to our deaths. But what choice did we have? A divine will had cast us aside. It was our only course of a…for our future did .”

  “…”

  “And in that deathly abaddon, we held onto hope. Hope that we would at least liberate our children from divine will. That even after our demise, the surviving younglings would prosper.”

  But fate had ughed at their futile efforts.

  A meager survival of a siribe was not what they had fought for. The present world was not what any of them had fought for.

  Demonkind challeheir creator. They gdly gave their lives, knowing there was no recourse. The dragonlord had marked the end of their flict with her own hands.

  Aheir destination had remaihe same. With or without the First, their era had e to a close. Their world had vanished, o be remembered again.

  ‘…It was all meaningless, was it not?’

  Iris studied the agonizing dragon. Serenis’ twisted expression seemed moments away from bursting to tears, but only broken ughter came forth from the dragonlord. Even the dragon’s threatening presence had all but dissipated.

  The deity cautiously broke the siletempting taitention.

  “When diviion began…we were simply told that demonkind was an evil that pgued the star. That they were to be sed from this world. But this wasn’t actually true, was it? What was the actual reason behind the First’s decision to eradicate demons?”

  Why end demonkind?

  ‘They, too, were his creations. Did he not care for them? And why elect mankind to annihite them?’

  Even to Iris, a God that had remained ral for eons suddenly siding with half of his creations to annihite the other half was an odd turn of events. With a demonlord to answer her now, it was sensible to question why.

  But at the same time, the enforcer’s curiosity would never amount to much. Serenis merely snorted in ill amusement as she gave her answer.

  “The reason? There is none.”

  “…None?”

  “None. Perhaps he simply didn’t take the demonkin’s growing influeoo kindly. Perhaps…he simply wished tn absolute. As he always had.”

  The dragonlord could still hear his words. In the bloody pools of her brethren, the First had questioheir motive.

  - ‘Enlighten me, Serenis. Why did this happen? What drove so many of you to let go of the life you were bestowed?’

  Survival.

  Ironically, demons had marched to their deaths for the sole purpose of survival. When they’d realized that the ‘life’ they were bestowed had reached its end, they sought to extend it – even if that meant defying the will of their creator.

  Serenis gritted her teeth. The price they paid for challenging a divine’s reign had costed them their whole world.

  When the dragonlord raised her head, hateful eyes gred into the deity before her – the former mankind that should’ve ied the star.

  “Were you and your kind not the same? At the end of our quest, we thought our star liberated. But when we fell at the summit…when all those who stood above your kind vanished, your bdes then poi one another and drove the star to its death. All so that the surviving few could reign as divinity.”

  Iris looked away. Guilt welled up within her, but even more promi was her own frustratioheir bloody history.

  “…It wasn’t my io make the star anew.”

  “Was it truly not your will? Then why is it that you failed to challenge your brother?”

  “If I challenged him, then-“

  “You would have been put to death. Just as we have.”

  “…It would’ve been a pointless death. I wouldn’t have ged anything.”

  “A, eves challehe huo protect their children.”

  “…”

  Despite her defeance, Iris, too, was a survivor of the past. She khat none of the Twelve were exempt from the sin of ending their own era. They were either bystanders of a worldly genocide, or aplices of its perpetrator.

  It was a burden that was meant to be fotten. In Felicir’s design, their sins would die with the old star, and the Twelve would have no reason to remember their treacherous pasts.

  But even after a millennium’s passing, among the twelve deities still remained a human soul. A human who still remembered their as, and all the lives that were lost in their design.

  “…You’re right, Starchild. I’m her strong, nor as determined as you are. Despite knowing what was right, I failed to a it.”

  Determination sparked anew as Iris raised her eyes to meet the dragonlord’s menag gre. It only took a few moments for her to take her shard of mana out once more, tossing it onto the table like a piece of junk.

  After a thousand years, it was long past the time to face the sequences of what they’d done in the name of divinity.

  “But know that it wasn’t because I wished to live in this pathetic eternity. I really just had no means of destroying this bloody fragment.”

  “…Then…”

  Iris nodded. A faint smile curved her lips as she firmed the dragonlord’s suspis.

  “Go ahead. Destroy it.”

  “…”

  The enforcer’s words still rang hollow to Serenis.

  In the paradise the Twelve had built for themselves, the dragonlord doubted their every word. In her eyes, Iris had no reason to act against her brother, nor to forfeit her divinity.

  “…Your future is guarahis world is yours to rule, and your brother clearly has no i of harming you. Why is it that you challehis premise?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I had no iion of being a deity to begin with. I prefer being human.”

  Serenis widened her eyes at the ued fession. Iris only tinued, shrugging at the dragonlord’s surprise.

  “Never for a moment did I wish for eternal life or some divine rule. My only wish was to live a normal life with others, age and die like any other. I’m tired of this whole divinity crap, I…”

  The enfaze fell to the floor, hiding the bitterness in her eyes from being seen.

  In the distant past, she’d once chosen to accept her role as the deity of mana. She thought it the only way to survive her brenocide.

  But with reverence came solitude. No longer could she truly belong amongst others. For a thousand years she’d lived as a fake – and she would for all eternity under her brother’s reign.

  “…I just wished to be normal. Time and time again, I sidered simply throwing my divinity away, but…”

  “…”

  Even though the enforcer failed to finish her sente wasn’t difficult to imagihe sequences of Iris throwing away her divinity.

  Without the means to destroy the fragment food, even if Iris were to cast her shard aside, the divinity of mana would tio exist. If the deity were to throw away the First’s fragment, there was little doubt that another would discover its usage.

  Mankind would once again learn the ins of divinity. The paradise that was built would fall to ruin. Once again their bdes would point at each other to cim the First’s fragment for themselves, and the star would pluself to another cycle of flict.

  ‘And once agaih will reset its state.’

  Once again, mankind’s greed would perish with them in the Reaper’s onsught – for fixing a problem was far more difficult than simply killing it, at least to the deity of death.

  Iris closed her eyes shut.

  Many strove to be rulers – to be kings and queens, gods aies.

  Humans were especially emphasized in this trait, but demons were also simir in this regard. Power was an alluring perspective for all races.

  However, the odd few strove for just the opposite. They sought to be normal and unremarkable, to be just as everyone else were.

  ‘It wasn’t meant to be. It never was.’

  The divinity Felicis had been given was not power or authority. It was just a nightmare catalyst that reminded her of all the life they’d trampled to be in their current positions.

  And to Serenis, she could admit this weakness. The dragonlord alone was the only remainiy that she could fess and pray to.

  “...I ot challenge death, or free the star from his threat. I ’t even free myself from this dreaded fragment. But you could, ’t you? You destroy divinity. You’re…”

  A demonlord. The lord ons once revered as a god herself.

  Iris’ voice melted away into silence.

  In the surrounding madness, righteousness was no lht. With eleven others standing at length, Iris could not hope to aplish anything against her odds. Even suicide was not an option, for her abandoned divinity would doubtlessly reinstate the flict that once killed their world – that is, if Felicir was even willing to let her die.

  But unlike her, Serenis was a demon. A lord of the star’s most powerful tribe.

  The ‘how’ didn’t matter. If the figure before her was truly a demonlord that had succeeded in killing the First, then surely, they’d be capable of doing it again. Surely, a dragonlord could ao a single human’s prayer.

  Slowly, Serenis reached out to grasp the piece of divinity into her own hand.

  But instead of destroying it, the dragonlord looked to Iris once more. A bleak, soulless response was the only answer she had to the deity’s wishes.

  “I destroy your divinity. But I’m afraid I ot kill your brother.”

  The desperation in Iris’ eyes were met with the dragonlord’s hollow gaze. The enforcer failed to hide the disappoi in her voice as she tried to deny Serenis’ words.

  “…That’s not possible. There must be a way. You succeeded in killing the First…he must’ve possessed the same divihority. You must’ve found a way to circumvent it.”

  “The demonki lived at the time. One of us possessed the means to deceive and elude the First’s authority over death. With them no longer with us, I do not have the means to challe.”

  “...”

  Silence filled the room as Iris dropped her gaze. A few minutes had to pass before Serenis would break the silence again.

  “Why is it that you seek my aid? Clearly, Felicir himself found a way in this other divinity…of life. Surely, asking for their assistance is the simpler method.”

  “…Unlike you, Aldrid has no reason to challenge Felicir. She was his servant, ever since our days as humans.”

  “A tract made by humans persisted into your days as deities? Nonsense.”

  Iris grimaced at the remark, answering in a powerless voice. She dearly wished Serenis to be right, but it just wasn’t the case.

  “…There may not be a tract bindio his will, but Aldrid is wont to remember those she owes. She owes the lives of both herself and her sibling to Felicir. She won’t challenge him.”

  “A…you’re vihat I will?”

  “…I am.”

  Once again, the enforcer opened her eyes. Her tais seriousness as she spoke.

  “Do you remember the reason Felicir allowed the dragons to survive?”

  “If I recall correctly…you said it was because we were no longer a threat.”

  “That’s correct. The sed lord romised the dragonkin’s survival by Felicir himself. But in exge, the sed lord had cimed that their first lord’s heart would be destroyed. But…the heart wasn’t actually destroyed, was it? It’s currently in your possession.”

  Iris sharpened her gaze as she tinued her expnation. If there was ohing she could ascertain as the deity of mana, it was this.

  “As soon as Felicir discovers that their ant had been broken, he will doubtlessly kill the dragonkin food – and you with them.”

  “…Was holding my brother hostage not enough?”

  The enforcer shook her head.

  “I’m n to threaten you. This is simply the pin truth.”

  “…”

  “And…it’s not all hopeless. Although I did hope that you’d have the means to challenge death yourself…”

  Iris took a deep breath in an attempt to collect her thoughts once more.

  There was still a path forward. A path that had been denied from her, but a path that still remained open for the dragonlord to walk.

  “I ot vince Aldrid to challenge Felicir. None of the Twelve could. But, you…if you’re truly the Starchild herself, you alone should be able to.”

  “I do not even know this ‘Aldrid’ you speak of.”

  “You may not know Aldrid, but Aldrid knows you. There’s no way she doesn’t.”

  “…?”

  “You’ll know when you meet her. I guara. So, please…”

  “…”

  A long sigh escaped Serenis’ lips.

  The First’s divinity still occupied this star. And her return to life had, ironically, put the kin’s lives at risk.

  ‘…It’s not a question of choosing to help or not. The kin ot risk the divinity of death to exist.’

  No life on this star was safe. As long as this madness of a deity tio rule over them, the star itself roo timeless extins.

  In the end, Iris was right; in her duty as a lord ons, Serenis did not have a choice. With no other lords remaining to challenge divinity and protect the demonkin, the task fell solely to her.

  But, most importantly…

  ‘…This was the reason behind Vulka’s death.’

  The reason her son had chosen to abandon her heart, the reason Vulka had chosen to bee a dishoyrant – was nothing but a mere, crazed human.

  “Death. Divinity of death…”

  Serenis quietly parroted the words to herself, reminisg her battle at the summit.

  The First was, by no means, almighty. Despite being the oy that could be referred to as a God of their star, the First had still fell short of omnipoteherwise, demonkind would never have succeeded in their quest.

  But at the same time, his divihority over death had been nothing short of terrifying.

  tless lives flickered out of existe a small flick of his wrist. One gaze into the distance, and his vision would be emptied of all life that filled it. It was the only authority that disallowed a ‘battle’ to eveablished.

  ‘I suppose it’s a small fortuhat the First’s divinity lit into twelve fragments. Without Lucid, this ‘Aldrid’ would be the only possible solution...’

  In the end, there simply was no other choice. Futile or not, Serenis could not idle with literal death looming over the horizon.

  “…I will have to meet this deity of life myself.”

  Iris’ eyes gleamed at the clusive tone of the dragonlord’s voice.

  “Then…?”

  “I will take your word. I ot allow this supposed deity of death to exist. However.”

  Serenis threw Iris’ shard back to her, which was caught midair.

  The enforcer stared at the dragonlord in fusion.

  “…Why return this to me? Were you not seeking to liberate the star from the divine?”

  “I am. And I will. However…”

  The dragon closed her eyes. She’d gdly risk her own life to fulfill her duties – but not at the expense of risking the star’s future.

  If the deity of mana was a genuine obstacle for her brother’s madness, then there was no reason to remove it prematurely.

  “…To destroy your divinity right now would be foolish. I ot guarantee my own success. Should I fail, then…”

  Serenis’ sentence faded into the silence surrounding them. Iris, too, remained quiet.

  There was o finish.

  Praybird