Chapter XXXIX: No Pressure

“Wait,” Ryu cried out, his voice drowned out by the roars of the wyrms on the surrounding islands. “Wait!”

The Wyrmking paid him no heed, as he was buffeted about by the winds as six mighty wyrms beat their wings in unison, the force tearing at his exposed flesh. The Dragoon fell to his knees, Bo by his side fiercely wrapped up in his own wings, trying to protect himself. He gazed helplessly at Ryu, and through the bond a feeling of desperation filled him. Hume and wyvern clutched at the ground futilely, watching as the doom of Vana’diel prepared to descend upon the unsuspecting people below. The cost of repulsing the demon invasion would be the end of life itself so that the planet might live on. Having felt the unfathomable power of the Wyrmking’s mind, Ryu had no doubt Bahamut possessed the power and willingness to carry out such a task.

He called out with his mind as the Wyrms on the floating islands around him began to take wing, storms of dust filling the air as they began their ascent. The terrible roars they gave out drowned out the sound of his voice, and try as he might, he could not make contact with Bahamut through Bo. He was not allowed to speak, it would seem, only be spoken to. While he sat helplessly, far removed from the world below, everyone he had ever known was going to be wiped from existence.

If the demon invasion had been half as bad as Ryu had feared upon seeing them burst forth from the skies of Xarcabard, he knew that Vana’diel would already be reeling. Unprepared for such an assault as the Wyrmking intended, their deaths would be swift and unrelenting as the Elder Wyrms swept across the continent, scouring clean all living things, be they demon or not. His friends, his comrades, the village where he had been born - those things would perish while he sat in wretched safety, unable to lift a finger to stop what was happening.

The Dragoon cried out in helpless fury, his voice lost in the cacophony of sound created by the Wyrms. A primal anger filled him, and he glared with hatred at the Wyrmking, his massive cerulean wings seeming to fill the horizon. The others were gathering around their master now, four of them with dreadful black scales upon which the light from the sun on the horizon reflected as if polished glass. Flanking the core of black dragons was a pair even larger yet, one of them a radiant reddish orange hue, the other bearing scales of a deep blue. The latter Ryu now knew as Jormungand, the World Serpent, and the former he recognized as the very Wyrm Those Guys had gone to battle with the day of the demon invasion. Tiamat’s presence here did not speak well to the safety of his friends.

In that moment, he hated them all. Powerless, having no options available but to wait out the end of the world, Ryu did the only thing he could think to do. Pumping his legs furiously, his eyes wild and teeth bared, he sprinted towards the edge of the floating island he was on. The ground stretched out endlessly beneath him, only barely visible beneath the layer of clouds below. Within seconds, he had reached the precipice separating him from the unending plummet back to the ground. Ignoring the shrieks of warning coming to him through the bond, he jumped.

Gravity’s hold on him meant nothing. He did not fall, rather, he climbed, surging up into the air with malice in his heart towards his intended target. It was the penultimate technique of the Dragoon; the ability to channel their spiritual energy into a jump like a wyvern on the wing, and then crash down with the full force of a Wyrm striking the earth. Being one of the few members of the Order still walking Vana’diel, Ryu Akanei may well have been the unparalleled master of the attack. It would not be nearly enough.

Bahamut’s head swiveled around, and with but a single furious glance, Ryu was struck from the air by a wave of pressure such that he felt his bones might be ground to powder. Stunned by the monstrous aura of the Wyrmking directed his way, he fell from the sky before ever getting close to touching down on Bahamut’s azure scales,

The Dragoon crashed back down to the surface of the floating island, feeling skin and muscle tear against the hard ground and rocks. He coughed, sputtering as dust filled his lungs, and then found himself unable to draw breath. With a gasp, air expanded his chest as a force beyond comprehension tore his body from the ground where it lay, suspending him in midair to face the ancient golden-eyed gaze of Bahamut. A roar of fury shook the floating islands, rock and debris cascading downwards into the clouds beneath, and Ryu was left nearly deafened by Bahamut’s retaliation to his attack.

“You would dare assault the Wyrmking?” Bahamut’s voice stormed through his mind, blasting his consciousness apart.

“I do!” Ryu cried out defiantly, tears streaming down his face as his whole body shook in pain, wracked with the agony of the Wyrmking’s unfathomable mind. “What worth is my own life if I do not use it to protect my friends?”

“Your folly has only brought that life to an end as final as that which awaits all life below!”

“Then do it,” the Dragoon spat out, his anguished face level with the gleaming, serpentine eyes of the terrestrial avatar, “and take your time with it. I’ll die with honor if it gives even another moment of life to the people I care about.”

Ryu’s words came out meekly, with acceptance of the end now upon him, and Bahamut roared once more. The other Wyrms joined in, and a cacophony of primal cries shook him down to his soul. Through the bond with Bo he could feel nothing, all sensation cut off by the overpoweringly oppressive force of Bahamut’s mind. The Wyrmking loomed over his hovering form, so massive that Ryu could not see anything in his range of vision except the monstrous gold and azure scales of his destroyer. Hot breath swept over him, and almost instantly his skin blistered and peeled. The low growl from his throat touching off tremors in the hovering land masses around them, Bahamut opened his fang-filled muzzle, and Ryu could make out a flame brewing at the back of his throat.

He closed his eyes, the heat boiling the sweat from his pores, and prepared for the end.

How long he held them shut, he couldn’t say for sure, but after a long enough moment he realized that his fiery demise had not come.

Cautiously, he allowed a single eyelid to crack open, enough to realize that the colossal form of Bahamut was still in the air before him. With a feeling like a breeze blowing across his skin, the force holding him aloft drifted away, and he tumbled a few feet back down to the ground, quickly twisting to his hands and knees to regard the Wyrmking with confusion. The other Wyrms had gone silent, and all eyes were focused on him.

“You would truly give your life for those below?”

The question seemed to come from nowhere, echoing through the recesses of his mind as Bahamut loomed overhead. Ryu said nothing, trying to puzzle out what was happening, when a shock came through the bond. He turned sharply to see Bo glaring at him, urging him to respond. The crushing importance of what he was being asked was being desperately driven into him by his wyvern, and, still not fully understanding, he turned back to Bahamut.

“I would,” he said, his voice hoarse. It felt as if all the moisture in his body had been evaporated. “There are people down below who are my friends, my family even. What sort of man would I be to not lay down my life in defense of theirs?”

Bahamut’s growl once again shook the ground, and Ryu had to clench the dirt between his fingers for stability. The searing heat of the Wyrmking’s presence threatened to burn through his very soul.

“I will give you one chance.”

Ryu’s mind reeled.

“There is a member of my family, one of my precious children, sealed away long ago by one of your kind, a Child of Altana. His heart beats still, yet it is possible he will not survive our assault on the world of men.” Bahamut’s voice was calmer now, measured and deliberate. He clearly wanted Ryu to understand every word, and with the respite from the full brunt of Bahamut’s crushing rage, the Dragoon was able to regain his footing, standing in the shadow of the dragon.

“He is beyond my reach. I suffer knowing I cannot help him.”

“What would you have me do?” Ryu questioned, remaining upright even under the ominous gaze directed upon him.

“Return my child to me,” Bahamut told him. “Free Vrtra from the chains man has placed upon him.”

Ryu was struck dumb by the pronouncement. Vrtra the Enveloper had been vanquished by King Ranperre d’Oraguille. The story was one of the most well-known in all of Mindartia and Quon. Their battle had been the stuff of legends, and in the end the Dragon King laid Vrtra low at the end of his spear on the very spot which would one day become the enormous tomb built to honor him. King Ranperre’s Tomb was more than a grave; it was a monument of triumph. Was Bahamut telling him to raise the dead?

“Great Wyrmking,” Ryu said, finally finding his voice, “Vrtra was defeated years ago, I don’t – “

The sensation he felt through the bond told him Bo was warning him to be silent, and the force of Bahamut’s thoughts creeped dangerously close to the point where they would cause him pain to bear.

“You will venture to the spot where Vrtra lies, and return him to me. If you can do this, if you can prove the Children of Altana strong enough, I will give you another chance to defeat the World of Nightmare’s hordes.”

Bahamut’s presence bore down upon Ryu once more, and he fought to stay standing straight.

“Understand, Ryu Akanei,” the Wyrmking warned, “you will not have the luxury of time in this endeavor, and there will be no second chance should you fail.”

Bo flapped his wings emphatically, coming to a rest at Ryu’s side. Together, they stared up at the incredible being that was Bahamut, the chill winds of the altitude not even noticeable against the heat emanting from his scales.

“If I do this,” Ryu began, “if I find Vrtra, and bring him back to you, then you will not strike against the people of Vana’diel?”

Bahamut’s breath was like a furnace door being opened. “If you succeed, you will be given a respite. The stakes are far higher than you could comprehend; should it appear the Children of Altana will not prevail, I will lead my children against all who dwell below.” He beat his powerful wings once, grass rippling against the wind they stirred on islands far in the distance. “But I will give them a chance.”

His own life, which he fully understood was at risk, wagered on an impossible task, with success bringing only a momentary relief from the threat of destruction. Ryu’s mind raced to try and think of a better solution, some other avenue unexplored through which he could aid his friends. Nothing presented itself. He knew, even as he tried to deny it, that Bahamut’s way was the only way. Bahamut’s child was dead; there would be no recovering it. What it really came down to was the hope that whatever the source of the demon invasion, Those Guys could stop it while Ryu was occupied with this quest, staying the Wyrmking’s wrath. All hope for survival on Vana’diel rested now on his decision.

Ryu brushed a strand of dark brown hair from his eyes, sweat soaking his body as he took a breath, giving only the most imperceptible of nods to Bahamut.

“Deal,” he agreed.

All around him, the Wyrms began roaring again, Bahamut floating wordlessly above as they cried out. With but a flick of his long, curved finger, the Wyrmking silenced his children, every horn and scale on his body gleaming in the light of the sun breaking in over the cloud cover. Gradually, he sank lower, coming down to eye level with the Dragoon by hovering off the edge of the island.

“You are now my servant, Ryu Akanei,” Bahamut told him, “and as you safeguard one of my children,” he gestured meaningfully towards Bo, “I shall do what I can to ensure your safety in the recovery of another. Service in the Wyrmking’s name yields great benefits, but failure,” the word struck Ryu like a blow coming from Bahamut’s aura, “has only one result.”

“I will not return without Vrtra,” Ryu lied, careful to keep his expression suitably grim for the occasion.

“Without Vrtra, you will not return at all.” The meaning was clear.

“Bahamut,” Ryu said, brushing past the notion, “how will I return to the ground? And how will I know where to find Vrtra? What if I encounter demons along the way, I should – “

“Silence!” Bahamut’s voice brooked no opposition. “Transport shall be provided. Seek you out the place where you know Vrtra rests, and there you shall find him.” Ryu opened his mouth, but wasn’t given the chance to ask what that meant. “As for your defense, you are a Dragoon in my service, and shall dress accordingly.”

With that, Bahamut opened his mouth, and belched flame at Ryu.

Instinctively, the Dragoon threw up his hands, a cry escaping his lips as the crimson flames overtook him, enveloping him completely. Amazingly, they did not burn, but instead ran through him, coursing over his body, and where the flames touched, he could see sparks of some unknown magic bursting into life. Then, in the midst of the flame which did not burn, his hands still outstretched in front of him, something began to form over his body. It started with his fingers, and then spread, the magical sparks swirling and rushing along his flesh, a new substance materializing where they traced. Down his arms and over his legs, around his torso and head, the fire of Bahamut congealed over him, and with a final burst of light and heat, Ryu found himself refreshed both physically and mentally, his powers completely restored as if the ordeal in Uleguerand and his treatment at Bahamut’s hands had never happened. More than that though, Ryu marveled as he looked over the suit of armor he now wore.

In some ways, it resembled the armor which he had lost. This suit was lighter, however, so light that had he not been looking at it he might not even know it was there. Whereas his old suit had been but a shade brighter than the steel it was made of, this armor was deep and dark, with runic symbols in the language of dragons etched into the metal itself. The detail was incredible; lines and curves crafted just right to mimic the structure of a Wyrm’s own body. He realized he was wearing a helmet, and ran his gauntleted fingers across the surface to find it possessed sharp, wing-like protrusions. The gauntlets themselves were hooked like a dragon’s claws, and the suit was bound together over a substance which felt like leather, but looked more like the skin of a great Wyrm. The dark, nearly black armor with its bluish-purple accents made it appear as if he were part dragon himself.

He examined as much as he could in awe, the thick breastplate and plated belt, the bladed edges on the boots. At his back hung a cape, spreading out behind him with a magnificent gleam, split into two distinct halves and arched at the bottom, akin to the wings of a dragon. Also at his back, there now rested a mighty spear, and though it felt impossibly light when he loosened it and held it free, the blades on it glinted wickedly in the sun, and the rust-colored weapon appeared as if it gained its hue by being covered in dried blood. Ryu replaced it at his back, where it seemed to latch on to his armor unprovoked.

More than that, however, he felt Bo. The bond the two shared had always been there, since the day the wyvern had hatched and bound itself to Ryu, but it was different now - stronger, purer than before. What had always been conveyed to him as raw emotion seemed to almost form words in his mind, as if he could really directly speak to and understand his friend. His senses flooded open with new sensation as they were clearly enhanced, and he involuntarily flinched as his mind began processing data as it never had before. Every scent in the air was distinct and clear to him, every taste and sound unique. He glanced about, and found that he could count not just the individual leaves on a tree some hundred yards distant, but clearly make out the insects feeding on those leaves.

The gifts of the Wyrmking surged through the armor he now wore and became one with him. He gazed at Bahamut, unable to think of a proper thing to say.

“You have been given the tools necessary to succeed,” Bahamut told him before he had the chance to speak first.

“I . . . thank you,” was all he could muster.

Bahamut’s great, gleaming golden eyes stared through Ryu, who even through the rush of his newfound power felt like a bug under the Wyrmking’s scrutiny. From behind Bahamut, one of the great black dragons which had been standing watchfully on a nearby island took wing, coming down in front of his master, but yards away from where Ryu stood. Its long, serpentine neck craned upwards, and with a hiss it opened a mouth of razor-sharp fangs, its unfeeling eyes sizing up Ryu like a late afternoon snack.

“Cynoprosopi shall guide you back to the ground,” the Wyrmking went on. “Once there he will return to me. You will be on your own, and I will be watching. This is not just a task for me, Ryu Akanei, this is to prove the worth of your whole species.”

“Your trial begins now.”