Aza Iriq Lynel (
steppechild) wrote in
museboxofmuses2019-11-03 07:35 pm
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DRAGON AU
Prometheus hibernated a lot.
There wasn't much else to do, as a hermit-dragon. He couldn't venture out into the world in case some intrepid 'adventurer' wanted to slay him for bragging rights or his hide, he couldn't mingle with other dragons because he was one of Nidhogg's brood (a fact which was why he couldn't socialise with any Ishgardians because spears inevitably got involved in those conversations, he knew, he still had the scar on his hindquarters from his last naive attempt), and he knew absolutely no one else, knew nothing about the world or its new continents or civilisations, so hibernating it was.
But even then, sleeping got dull.
Prometheus sighed deeply, drawing his wings tighter about himself. Perhaps it was because he spent so much time sleeping, but his draconic body evolved to have furred wings - which was nice, it was very warm, even if they did shed some strange, fluffy black motes from time to time (he soon learned that these motes were highly toxic to mortals, probably from his subconscious desire to be left alone slipping into this body's maturing evolution). The downy undercoat of his wings was shed often and thickly enough that he even had a little nest, in a cave warmed by geothermic means, in the high mountains of Coethas. It was cosy, safe, and isolated.
It was also boring and devoid of anything. Prometheus came here... fuck, centuries? Or millennia? He couldn't remember. A long while, just after the war between Ishgard and the dragons kicked off in earnest. He flew here as a dragonnet, and slept and slept and slept, with miserable waking moments in between where he went to stretch his wings, eat a bear or something, and crawled back in his warm, soft cave to sleep some more.
He was avoiding reality, he knew. He didn't understand why he woke up in the form of a dragon - an alien species, not native to their star, how the hell did the reincarnation cycle mess up that badly!? - what happened to Amaurot, why the geography was completely different and... where Hades and Hythlodaeus were. He remembered, in the early days of his life, he would cry out through the Lifestream to hear nothing back, and was slowly accepting that, maybe, it was just him. Alone.
No Hades. No Hythlodaeus. Just him and his cave.
He exhaled heavily, flexing his claws as his body sluggishly roused from its latest bout of hibernation. His stomach was an empty pit of starvation, so he had to eat something calorie dense before dozing back off again. The only thing was, it took ages for his body to fully 'wake up'. Spending centuries practically in a coma made his limbs lock up, and it took a while for the aether flowing through his body to regain strength and feeling in them again. Not that he was in any rush...
There wasn't much else to do, as a hermit-dragon. He couldn't venture out into the world in case some intrepid 'adventurer' wanted to slay him for bragging rights or his hide, he couldn't mingle with other dragons because he was one of Nidhogg's brood (a fact which was why he couldn't socialise with any Ishgardians because spears inevitably got involved in those conversations, he knew, he still had the scar on his hindquarters from his last naive attempt), and he knew absolutely no one else, knew nothing about the world or its new continents or civilisations, so hibernating it was.
But even then, sleeping got dull.
Prometheus sighed deeply, drawing his wings tighter about himself. Perhaps it was because he spent so much time sleeping, but his draconic body evolved to have furred wings - which was nice, it was very warm, even if they did shed some strange, fluffy black motes from time to time (he soon learned that these motes were highly toxic to mortals, probably from his subconscious desire to be left alone slipping into this body's maturing evolution). The downy undercoat of his wings was shed often and thickly enough that he even had a little nest, in a cave warmed by geothermic means, in the high mountains of Coethas. It was cosy, safe, and isolated.
It was also boring and devoid of anything. Prometheus came here... fuck, centuries? Or millennia? He couldn't remember. A long while, just after the war between Ishgard and the dragons kicked off in earnest. He flew here as a dragonnet, and slept and slept and slept, with miserable waking moments in between where he went to stretch his wings, eat a bear or something, and crawled back in his warm, soft cave to sleep some more.
He was avoiding reality, he knew. He didn't understand why he woke up in the form of a dragon - an alien species, not native to their star, how the hell did the reincarnation cycle mess up that badly!? - what happened to Amaurot, why the geography was completely different and... where Hades and Hythlodaeus were. He remembered, in the early days of his life, he would cry out through the Lifestream to hear nothing back, and was slowly accepting that, maybe, it was just him. Alone.
No Hades. No Hythlodaeus. Just him and his cave.
He exhaled heavily, flexing his claws as his body sluggishly roused from its latest bout of hibernation. His stomach was an empty pit of starvation, so he had to eat something calorie dense before dozing back off again. The only thing was, it took ages for his body to fully 'wake up'. Spending centuries practically in a coma made his limbs lock up, and it took a while for the aether flowing through his body to regain strength and feeling in them again. Not that he was in any rush...
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He picked Aza back up, wiping the broth off his face, watching the fur stick together in points. He held the dragonet close to his chest closing his eyes and dropping his chin as he begun to softly sing a foreign lullaby.
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Hythlodaeus's stare down won, and Prometheus looked away with a grunt.
At this point, Aza had fallen asleep, snuffling quietly as he unconsciously cuddled against Hades's chest. It was, quite frankly, absolutely adorable. Prometheus wished he could Create a camera for the moment.
"So..." Prometheus said after a moment of silence, where all of them just watched Aza snore, "Let's hear it then."
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Hades paused, taking a breath before resuming. “He had died entirely too young. The cold had preserved his body... and so... I assumed it. I reheated the flesh and reinvigorated the aether and stepped out to explore these people.”
Hades softly petted his child, lowering his voice and rocking him when he began to stir.
“I finished Solus’ project, and with it, I gave the Garleans the chance to survive their horrible predicament. And with our survival came flourishing. I married the woman who had been arranged for my host since he began to walk. And we had a son,” his voice quivered for the first time in his emotional monologue.
“And though he was tall and strong... He passed away just shy of 22 summers from an illness that I was not even aware of.”
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He was, annoyingly, unreadable. His expression was difficult to parse, due to the fact that Hythlodaeus still wasn't very good at deciphering dragon expressions, and that Prometheus's soul had gone few soft and opaque. He was clearly mulling it over, but Hythlodaeus had no idea if he was going to react well or poorly to it.
"...well, that explains your egg anxiety," Prometheus finally said, his tone still damnably neutral, "And I was dead at the time, so I can't begrudge you marrying someone and having a child with them either."
There was a but, though, it was clear in Prometheus's tone. However, he didn't utter it, because... he was wary of prodding that. Questions like; 'Hades, you're not a naturally generous soul, so why would you live out a mortal's life to that extent unless you were getting something out of it?' and 'Twenty two years old is old enough for a mortal noble family to procreate before passing on, so are there any other grandchildren or great-grandchildren I should know about too, and if so, why haven't I seen hide or hair of them?' and 'I smell bullshit, there's more to this then you're telling me'.
But Prometheus didn't ask those questions.
Instead; "If you're worried about Aza suffering from the same fate... don't. Dragons are pretty robust creatures. Never heard of any getting sick, to be honest..."
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“I married for the appearances of it,” he said, then bit his lip. That was only slightly true.
“He’s not this flimsy sort of mortal who will die if the aether fluxes wrong,” he said, gently petting between Aza’s horns. He took a breath.
“I’m surprised that your combined curious minds have no questions about the story I’ve told you.”
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Prometheus exhaled heavily, his tail giving an agitated thump against the floor. He had no idea how to approach that without betraying his... suspicions, and theories from what he gleaned from both the locals of these lands, the state of the aether and the Lifestream, and what little Hades and Hythlodaeus had let slip. It all came together as a horrifying picture, one that if Prometheus acknowledged he'd... well, he wasn't sure how he'd react, but it wouldn't be pretty.
"Oh, I have many questions," he finally said, his tail thumping the floor again, harder this time, "Many, many, many questions..."
"But now doesn't seem the right time for them, right?" Hythlodaeus added warily, when Prometheus didn't say anymore after that, "Well, not until you decide to stop obfuscating things, Hades..."
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Well, that was far more horrifying than he meant to go. But it was true.
“We should pull the wool from your eyes before it becomes too complicated to deal with me. Rather, I’ve been having a change of heart. Oh, this is going to be so messy...Lahabrea is going to be all in a tizzy.”
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"Kill- Hades, you absolute dumbass," Prometheus snarled, rising to his feet and flaring his wings, "I'm not going to kill you, no matter how badly you fucked up. What'd that do? Just make an even bigger fucking mess."
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“The world was shattered. A long, long time ago reality was shattered. And everyone’s souls became pale and small, and their bodies weak and small, and their minds vicious and small! And even when you try to love them, they can not overcome that and they eventually die! They leave you alone! And before you can move on they all die again! You were probably wondering what we were doing. Elidibus, Lahabrea... myself.”
Aza stirred slightly, but made no genuine appearance of waking.
“We have been trying to make the world whole again. End all he misery and suffering. It’s just not working. It doesn’t matter what you give them or try to teach them. They’re hopeless.”
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"Hades," he paused, gathering his thoughts, "You know, I did a lot of research into the Lifestream and the structure of our star before I... died. When a Planet is shattered to this extent, where souls are even impacted, you do realise that there's no foolproof way of rejoining the broken parts, right?" Prometheus huffed out a morbidly amused noise, "Not unless you trigger the Lifestream's survival instincts to contract by causing a massive influx souls into it, but you'd have to get to like, genocide... levels..."
There was a very long pause, where Prometheus finally realised. Making world whole again -> end all misery and suffering -> Hades's disdain for the mortal races -> helped a country become a mighty military force -> a planet's shards can only be rejoined when the stretched thin Lifestream felt threatened, and contracted them closer when it sensed mass death occurring -> the fact there was evidence in the Lifestream of these contractions, ones Prometheus assumed to be natural disasters -> oh Hades you haven't.
"...ah," he finally said, stunned at his own revelation.
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“Even the first times. But they snuff out one another’s lives with less consideration, less purpose, than we ever did,” Hades furrowed his brows. “Don’t misunderstand me. We had tried nigh everything else for thousands of years before then. I don’t like to inflict suffering on them, even if they do nothing but design it for themselves. They’d already built the fire, we only handed them the match.”
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"Prom..." Hythlodaeus said, but he didn't say anything after that. It was clear from his expression he didn't approve of this either.
"Did you and others ever think that maybe, just maybe, our entire race was meant to die?" Prometheus continued bluntly, his voice tight, "We studied this under Mentor Metis, remember? When things in nature become unbalanced, nature corrects. We were an unbalancing force- oh, don't look like that, we were, no matter what bullshit we fed ourselves about being 'Caretakers of the Star'. However it happened, our race became functionally extinct, the star shattered and from what I saw it's stable. Everything's in balance! If you truly cared about being a caretaker, you'd leave everything alone, not try to revive a flawed paradise!"
Prometheus's voice finished on a yell, and Aza startled awake in Hades's arms, letting out a low whine as he felt the volatile emotions in the air.
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But he thinned his lips at the next part. It was the worst case scenario, after all. “The lifestream demands death for its health, and the mortals supply it well. Why are you so eager to give up? Certainly there must We a way through it. Isn’t it worth trying? To end the suffering?”
“And we’ve arrived at how we started. You would have me accept death, but you will have to kill me to make that happen.”
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"Everything dies, eventually," Prometheus finally said, calmer, "Even this star. It's a natural course of life, and the longer you struggle against it, the more misery you're just making for everyone else."
He lowered himself onto his belly again, feeling thoroughly exhausted, "Remember what Metis said? 'Always be ready for change'. For good or ill, we have to accept it. You've... done the exact opposite of that. 'To end the suffering', what suffering? The people on the Steppe are content and happy! Their culture is different, more violent, yeah, but that's how they are, and I wouldn't want them to change at all! It's not like death is such a painful thing, anyways. You reincarnate eventually and start again. Like nature intended."
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“Funny thing to say,” Hades started. “I’m not sure they’re all happy. They are awfully prideful about the hardship they place upon themselves, however. But that’s beside the point, isn’t it? I have grown tired, Prometheus. I can’t resunder what’s joined. What would you have me do? Kill Elidibus and Lahabrea? It is certainly within my power.” He gave a grim, sad smile.
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"Perhaps," Hythlodaeus interjected, "We can convince them there is an alternative way. After all, we have a brand new soul right here..."
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Hades cared for all Amaurotines, of course. But why did the only ones he’d had left were the worst people from his office.
Hades sighed. “But perhaps. They will visit again sooner than later, I’m sure. They have been obsessed with you and I know Lahabrea will be unable to contain his academic curiosity for long.”
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"Oh dear," Hythlodaeus murmured, "Prom, perhaps confronting them when your blood's running hot isn't wise..."
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If not kill him, then what? “I doubt you’ll forgive me that easily.”
And also the idea of Prometheus trying to have words with those two... “Before we talk to them, let us settle in first, hmm? I’m not raising my son in the stables.”
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"Well, firstly, when you put Aza down I'm gonna headbutt you," Prometheus grumbled irritably, "Then, I don't know. I'll see how I feel afterwards... anyway, what do you mean a stable!? This is a very high quality nest, I'll have you know! Look at the floor! It's soft and snug! Aza would be so comfy here!"
"Ah, I think he means he wants an actual house," Hythlodaeus muttered to Prometheus.
"A house? We don't need a house."
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"What, a couple thousand years of as a dragon and you're suddenly too good for furnishings? Well be assured that I am not, and I will be raising our son to not just piss wherever he so pleases," he said pointedly. "If our son assumes a human form, where would you keep him here?"
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He jabbed a claw at Hades, "Besides, he's too young to be shapeshifting! Let him be himself first, before asking him to switch to two legs! Isn't that right, Aza? You like being a cat... dragon thing, don't you?"
Aza, half-asleep and kind of grumpy about it, just made a burbling, blown raspberry noise that conveyed his displeasure (as well as his soul feeling grumpy in general, in that huffy way only children could achieve).
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“It’s not so bad,” Hythlodaeus said. “Mortals just require constant reminders about physical boundaries.” Not having met many mortals, he assumed that the pushy, sex-starved young men in the barracks were normal.
Hades tried to hush little Aza back to sleep as he protested sleepily. “He’s barely hatched. At least wait until he can speak before putting him against me. Besides, shapeshifting should be simple for someone like him. But I’ll give it a few months.”
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But Hythlodaeus and Hades weren't dragons. Hell, Aza wasn't fully a dragon, and who knows, he might prefer living as a human further on in life. So... Prometheus would have to make some concessions, won't he?
"...fine," he said, unable to fully conceal the peevishness in his voice, "But it has to be somewhere where dragons aren't hunted on sight because they're some adventurer's 'Grand Prize'."
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And part of that was because he could be a little more honest about the role he'd played in history. "How's that for you?"
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