Chapter XXXVIII: Among the Living

His eyes fluttered open, and immediately he was surprised by just how blue the sky was.

Puffy white clouds drifted by, soft and unthreatening, floating gently across a sky of the palest azure, sparse enough to not impede the sunlight streaming down. Another surprise was how warm it was; coupled with the gentle breeze wafting by, it was a nearly perfect day. The grass was cool and the ground soft, the sunshine bright and soothing. That he was lying down in the grass, though, was yet another surprise. That was not where he remembered being.

Unthreatening sky, warm weather, soft ground he did not remember being on; all of these things were reason for him to stop and think. As he attempted to sit up, what truly surprised Ryu Akanei the most was that he was still alive.

He could remember the final moments of what he believed to be the end. He and Bo had climbed up into the sky, higher and higher, each successive jump taking them further into the cloud of demons escaping from the tear in the sky over Zvahl. All of Uleguerand Range was being covered in darkness, the sky blotted out by a thick, inky layer of something unnatural, something which spread exponentially as it coated the heavens. Claws had scraped at him, teeth had gnashed, in every direction the horrible screeching of the demons tore at him. Finally, he had plummeted downwards, his wyvern by his side, spiraling downwards with his companion in a final, defiant act. He had been so close to the icy ground when it suddenly burst up all around him, and a howl more fearsome than all the rest broke through . . .

Then, things went black. Memories of dreams he may have had quickly faded, and the all-to-real pain from the injuries he had suffered began to seep in. There could be no doubt; whatever happened in the snow-strewn peaks of Uleguerand, Ryu had somehow survived.

The Dragoon’s body ached as he rose, and he felt for all the world as if he were one massive bruise as he clenched his teeth against the groaning pain. His fingers dug into the loamy earth, and he struggled to find his balance. He had no idea how long he’d been sleeping, but his head felt light and his body stiff, and he consciously struggled against the groggy feeling overtaking him. With considerable effort, he managed to stand, stretching his arms out over his head, wincing at the popping sounds coming from his back as he did so. Exhaling, he put a hand over his lumbar, rubbing the aching joints gingerly.

He brushed strands of his auburn hair away, rubbing at his eyes now to clear the accumulated sleep out of them. Blinking the spots away, Ryu gave a yawn, and, for the first time, took a good look around. A moment later he was wide awake.

The sparse clouds above him were explained by the existence of an enormous mass of them underneath him. The ground he stood on floated above them, and, as he tried to comprehend this, he realized that there were other pieces of land, looking as if they had been ripped from the crust of Vana’diel, stationary in the air, floating like it were the most natural thing for them to be doing. Rocks gravitated in orbit around them, and he could see water from streams trickling down their edges. He turned at the sound of a shriek, and saw a massive winged form streak by in the distance, a hippogriff on the wing settling down on one of the outlying land masses. The wind stirred at his feet, and he watched, wide-eyed, as a stream of dew was lifted from the grass and carried off into the sky. Ryu was on an island. One of chain of islands, floating in the sky.

The sight was breathtaking. The island he stood on was large and lush, with trees and flowers, bright green grass, and even some insects fluttering about. The hippogriffs in the distance appeared to be part of a flock, and the noble creatures soared in formation from one mountainous island to the next, smaller birds giving them free range to do so. Off in the distance, Ryu’s sharpened eyes could make out lightning from a storm brewing dozens of miles distant, rain forming which would fall upon ground leagues away. Even as he saw this, the sun shone down streams of golden light which brought the islands to life, and the Dragoon stood in awe. For a moment he wondered if maybe he had died after all.

How long he stood there watching this sight before him, he did not know. The ocean of clouds captivated his attention so much that he even failed to notice as a shadow spread over him, darkening the serene scene he bore witness to. It was only when the wind came that he realized there was something behind him.

The first blast nearly tossed him from his feet, striking him from behind like a wall of air trying to force its way past him. Immediately, the memory of the wind which had burst forth from the breach he had seen in Xarcabard sprung to mind, but there was no unnatural heat to this wind, no feeling of dread. Before he could turn around, another took him, and he awkwardly attempted to keep his balance on one leg, the driving force of the wind blasting into him. Steadying himself, Ryu firmly planted his foot into the earth at his feet and turned to confront the source of the force assailing him.

His mouth moved wordlessly as he craned his neck upwards to take in that which he saw.

It was at least ten meters high, with enormous leathery wings stretching out to a span even greater. As those wings slowly beat, the air surged forward, and another rush of wind struck the dumbfounded Ryu, who fell backwards into a sitting position without even noticing. He fell to the ground, his hands scraping the dirt as he gaped, unable to move, at the cause of the shadow stretching over him. It was a hulking mass of blue and gold, claws as big as a man surmounting each crooked finger on its bulging arms, serpentine legs and tail dangling as it hovered effortlessly in the air, supported only by the occasional flap of its incredible wings. Ryu stared at the thing, the scales, the teeth, the horns, and became dimly aware that it was looking back at him.

A name sprung into his head, a shared memory borne from his bond with his wyvern, Bo.

Bahamut, the Wyrmking.

Bahamut’s breath was like a burst from a furnace as he opened his mouth, and Ryu felt as if he had been dried out from its touch. The wind struck him again, searing his bare flesh, and for the first time he realized that his armor had been lost. The Wyrmking, his sheer presence overwhelming Ryu’s enhanced senses, beat his wings again, the flap bringing him closer to the edge of the island, as he lowered his neck to look through two gleaming eyes, each one as big as Ryu’s head, at the Dragoon himself. Ryu cowered back, but his body was frozen. The dragon’s mouth was slightly open, and Ryu could see down his cavernous maw, his throat a black and endless tunnel lined with fangs as big as a person’s arm. He searched for words, but it was hopeless. Ryu was paralyzed by the crushing aura of Bahamut.

“Ryu Akanei.” The voice was ancient and terrible, and Ryu tumbled backwards with a cry as it head suddenly felt as if it might burst. The words of the Wyrmking echoed through his skull as the ancient dragon reared back up, looming over the Dragoon. He had not spoken aloud, but rather his words communicated themselves directly into Ryu’s mind, and contact with so primal and powerful a force had staggered the Hume upon initiation. The echo gradually faded, and, choking, Ryu managed to pull himself of the ground at least enough to sit up again. Bahamut hovered over him, eyes unblinking.

“How . . . how do you . . . “ the words finally came to him, weak and anguished from the physical and now mental pain he was suffering. “. . . how do you know my name?”

“This one told me,” Bahamut responded, and Ryu had to struggle to keep from falling unconscious as the voice of the dragon once again exploded through his mind. He thought he tasted blood, and the edge of his vision went dim. It was as if the Wyrmking’s thoughts alone were so powerful as to crush him. The Dragoon’s mind reeled under the pressure from communicating with so overwhelming a force, when suddenly, it felt as if a barrier appeared with him; a buffer of some sort, filtering out the piledriving force so that only the voice remained. Gasping for breath, Ryu felt his thoughts become clear, unbefuddled. He felt strength well within him, and amazingly, he looked up at the Wyrmking, unafraid.

There was a glint of something small and swift, rising just past Bahamut’s shoulder, as it darted past the Wyrmking and towards Ryu Akanei. The Dragoon’s face broke into a smile, and his legs found renewed vigor as they propelled him upright, where he met Bo as the wyvern flew into his arms. Happiness, relief, concern, they flooded the bond between the two, and Ryu’s spirit surged as the connection he had with the blue-scaled creature was brought back in full force.

“I thought I’d lost you, my friend,” Ryu told him. A feeling of lonliness swept over him, and he knew Bo had been thinking the same thing. He hugged the serpent-like beast close to his breast, its neck craned over his shoulder as it made mewling sounds in his ear. There came another touch of emotion through the bond, and Bo flared out his wings, breaking free from Ryu’s grasp to take a place in the air next to him. The Dragoon saw the large, liquid eyes of the wyvern settle forward, and understood. He was defensive, confrontational, and the target of his feelings was Bahamut himself.

“Bahamut, the Wyrmking,” Ryu called out to the creature which blotted out the sun, “it seems I am in your debt.”

“The Children of Altana owe many a debt to the Wyrmking,” Ryu was able to understand the words fully, and maintained his ground as Bahamut spoke to him, the connection with Bo allowing him to touch that unfathomable mind without fear. “Debts which shall soon be collected in full.”

“What do you mean?”

Bahamut gave no response, but Ryu heard the cry of the hippogriff suddenly fill the air. He turned, and saw an entire colony of them taking flight, streaking off of the island in droves. Turning, he was amazed to see an exodus of similar proportions taking place all around him; those beasts which could fly were all taking wing, retreating from the floating islands which they made their homes on. Ryu’s confusion was replaced as a sense of alarm hit him through the bond, and he saw Bo flaring his wings back, his teeth bared.

From beneath the ocean of clouds floating under the islands, dark shapes began to emerge, shadows lurking below the surface. Larger and larger they grew, indiscernible as to their identity until, with a horrid roar that made the islands shake with its intensity, they burst forth. First one, then another, and on and on as they came up through the cloud cover and reached an apex in flight, arching downwards, each one settling on a different island surrounding the one Ryu stood on, Bahamut towering above him. They roared as their claws settled into the rock and earth of the islands, spurts of fire rushing forth from some few of them as they did so. They were the children of Bahamut, the Elder Wyrms of Vana’diel, the oldest and most powerful creatures still roaming the planet. Dragons. Any one of them could be worth an army, or a dozen armies. Ryu counted at least six, and each one was looking at him.

“Offer your thanks to my child, on whose back you arrived here, at the behest of my wyvern,” Bahamut’s voice told him. As he spoke with his mind, he beckoned with one clawed hand, and one of the dragons on the surrounding islands came forward, craning its elongated neck out and flaring its wings, red-glowing eyes staring downwards. It was enormous, its scales silver and blue, and shining like thousands upon thousands of glittering mirrors. The fang-filled muzzle it sported opened, and a blast of freezing air struck Ryu, even from the distance intervening dragon and Dragoon. He needed no heeding from Bo to understand who this was. Every ancient text of the lost Dragoon Order described this Wyrm with pinpoint accuracy. Jormungand, the World Serpent, clawed at the earth beneath himself, looking at the Hume with intensity that Ryu hoped was not hunger.

Memories came racing back to him. Not his own, he realized, but close enough that it might as well be the same. The ice fissured and hissed, and the demonic howl in the air was overpowered by a roar which would cow any creature with the ability to know fear. The force of Bahamut’s mind exploded within Ryu’s head, and Bo had spiraled downwards as Ryu was struck unconscious by the Wyrmking’s call. Heeding the voice of his lord, Jormungand, asleep beneath the ice for untold years, had burst forth with a matchless fury. The demons were thrown off by his appearance, and he effortlessly climbed higher and higher, savagely rending apart any foolish enough to get close even as he shot an arctic wind from out of his throat so frigid that the demons in its way were instantly overcome.

Jormungand had broken free, and as he climbed towards the sky, Bo had clung on desperately, Ryu’s unconscious form barely grasped in his talons, until the Wyrm had leveled off and he could pull the Dragoon, near death, to a spot between the Ice Dragon’s wings, where he remained until they had arrived in this hidden place of the dragons, where they had awaited either his revival or death.

Ryu’s mind returned to the present, the flash of memories provided by Bo almost too much to be believed. He had rode, unconscious, on the back of an Elder Wyrm, and now rested in their hidden islands in the sky. The greatest dragons in all of Vana’diel were all nearby, and all in the presence of the grandest of them all, Bahamut.

“Time grows short,” Bahamut’s voice rang in his mind, “you may remain here, if you wish. My children and I must do our work and protect Vana’diel.”

An ember of hope within Ryu was fanned into a roaring flame. “You’re going to defeat the demons?” he said, momentarily forgetting his place before the celestial presence.

Bahamut regarded him, tendrils of smoke pouring out the sides of his mouth. The Dragoon backed down, and a flash of warning struck him through the bond. Bo settled down on the ground, wings folded. He appeared as cowed as Ryu felt under the gaze of the Wyrmking.

“We go forth to protect Vana’diel,” the humbling voice of Bahamut told him, and all around him the dragons began beating their wings against the ground, creating clouds of dust all through the area. “To that end, I will exterminate every living thing upon the surface. Children of Altana and Promathia alike – none will be spared the wrath of the Wyrmking.”

The host of wyrms around him gave a great cry in unison, and their roars marked the beginning of the end for life on Vana’diel.