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.”

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.