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Father was dead.
Murdered by the hand of his own sibling, who had also supposedly perished in that fateful fight.
Alear shifted his vision towards the top of the altar he laid upon, lifelessly staring at the monotone ceiling that bore his entire visage.
It was all pointless now wasn’t it?
Whipping his head away from the bleak chamber, Alear fished through his pocket for a certain item.
Out emerged a crimson dragonstone, stained as red as blood, yet somehow felt comforting within his palms; a slight respite of the desolate chamber he found himself in.
If this stone was not shattered then… the person he was waiting for was still alive.
They had to be.
Grasping tightly onto the stone and curling around it, Alear laid upon his altar and slowly closed his eyes.
Even if fell dragons could never have a happy ending, he wanted at the very least to meet his sibling once more.
…
Fate was not kind to him, not in the slightest.
After awakening from his deep slumber, he was immediately moved to Elusia castle by the guardsmen who watched over him.
Mauvier, the leader of the guards, carefully escorted him on the way to the castle.
There he was reunited with father once more.
Bowing his head in deference, the dragon attempted not to expose any sign of disappointment or weakness in front of him.
“Alear,” Sombron uttered, chilling Alear to his entire core as he attempted to maintain his distant facade.
“Yes father?” Alear replied bleakly, preparing himself for the inevitable command his father would usher.
“Aid me in my quest to conquer Elyos.”
“Of course Father,” Alear said as he swallowed any fear that would dare flash on his face.
He couldn’t show any sign of weakness, because only the defective are weak in Sombron’s eyes, and are deserving of elimination.
He was a fool to have thought that he could see his sibling once more or to think his father was truly gone.
“I have a mission for you. I’m certain you won’t have any objections.”
“Yes father.”
He wanted to live- no, needed to live.
“I need you to kill the Divine Dragon.”
…
Alear had just finished preparing emblem rings with his father, a process he had become accustomed to despite the painful look each Emblem gave as they were corrupted.
The raid at Lythos castle was successful, Lumera was assassinated by his own hands and the new rings were obtained and given to Sombron.
Father had given him a sinister smile after hearing of Lumera’s demise, one the sickened him greatly no matter how many times he had seen it. For it was the same face he would make after hearing of any of his sibling’s passing.
Steadying himself on a nearby wall, he had to remember.
It didn’t matter what he felt, he was alive.
Grasping the dragonstone within his pocket, he prayed that his sibling was faring better than he was at the very least.
Unknowing of the tears they were shedding as they held onto Lumera for the very last time.
…
Afterwards, Alear would meet his new retainers, or the Four Hounds as they called themselves.
Zephia was the first to introduce herself, approaching Alear with open arms as she eyed him expectantly. She made him uncomfortable, but he brushed off those feelings as she moved away to let the others introduce themselves.
Next was Marnie, the young girl rushed up to him excitedly as she began to brag about her boundless strength. Alear responded back with silence, earning a pout from her and inciting a small giggle from Zephia.
After Marnie was Mauvier, the man Alear had met at the temple he awoke in. The man had no comments about his role and promised to follow him faithfully. Truthfully, the only person Alear truly felt somewhat comfortable with.
Lastly was Griss, who had bore a displeased expression at him. He inquired if Alear would punish him, but was met with the same treatment he had given Marnie. However, unlike Marnie, Griss only smiled eerily at Alear and eyed him even more eagerly than Zephia had done.
Concluding his greetings with the hounds, Alear departed for his chambers, awaiting Sombron’s next order.
…
“Ah Fell One, what brings you here?” Griss asked as he interrupted Alear in the castle’s hallway.
“Nothing of your concern,” Alear responded, brushing off the green haired mage as he walked past him.
“Tch, not interested in playing nice aren’t you?”
Alear eyed the other man warily, Griss had never approached him alone before. He was usually occupied with the other hounds, either scheming with Zephia or teasing Marnie and Mauvier.
“Hmph, you don’t look busy anyways. Why don’t you spar with me? I’ve been looking forward to seeing whatever you can dish out on me!” Griss asked excitedly, holding up his tome for the other to see while simultaneously grinning.
“No.”
“Hmph, you’re no fun Fell One.”
Content with the conversation’s end, Alear whisked past the sage and continued to walk down the hallway. Only to be followed by Griss walking his same direction, holding his arms behind his head as he bore a displeased expression.
“What are you doing?” The dragon pressed, becoming slowly irritated by the retainer’s antics.
“Nothing of your concern,” Griss commented with a mischievous tone, keenly aware of the familiar words he uttered.
“I have a feeling you won’t leave me alone until I fight you.”
“Perhaps.”
“Very well then, let’s spar.”
“Haha! I knew you’d see things my way.”
…
It would be an understatement to say the Alear didn’t plan on holding back against Griss.
Griss laid upon the castle training grounds flat on his back, heavily bruised from Alear’s barrage of martial arts with a blissful smirk.
“Y-you really didn’t hold back didn’t ya?” The sage remarked as he savored the taste of iron flooding his mouth.
“You asked for a spar, and I gave you one. I figure you’re content now Griss?”
Alear was only met back with a faint murmur from the other man. Looking towards his spot on the floor, the dragon observed him.
His hair was disheveled, his body battered from their sparring match, and blood was evident on his face from the force of Alear’s fist, yet he still had a passionate grin plastered onto his face.
It perturbed him, why did he look so joyful?
Isn’t pain meant to be terrible?
“What do you find so enjoyable about this?” Alear asked, suddenly flooded with curiosity of the hound’s questionable behavior.
“What’s not to love? That sensation, the burn, the gaping tinge, it fills me to completion,” the other man heaved as his face contorted with a pleased expression.
Alear only gazed at him with an even more confused expression, but nonetheless found himself without any further questions.
Picking up Griss from the floor, the dragon slung him onto his shoulder as he steadily moved him to the castle’s infirmary; Zephia would reprimand him for sure.
“Can’t get enough of me Fell One?” The sage asked as he stumbled alongside the Fell Dragon.
“Alear, my name is Alear.”
“Alear huh? You still didn’t answer my question though.”
Griss was completely illogical to him, but he supposed he didn’t loathe his company entirely.
…
Veyle was alive.
But she didn’t remember him.
In fact, she was now Lumera’s successor, no longer a Fell Dragon now. And that had meant he was the one who had killed her mother.
Holding the dragonstone within his palm, Alear let out a grim expression.
How could he ever face her?
“What’s got you all depressed looking Fell One? Or well, even more dour than usual I suppose.”
Great, the hound came back to pester him once more.
“It’s nothing,” he responded, once again maintaining the usual blank expression on his face.
He was alive, that was all that mattered now.
“If you say so.”
“…”
“C’mon, let’s go fight or something Lord Alear I’m bored of all this moping.”
With his piece said, the sage turned around and left to the training ground, leaving Alear to choose to follow him or not.
Wanting to take his mind off Veyle, the dragon followed Griss and earned a small chuckle from him.
Pain felt better than regret.
…
“Zephia once told me that we were a family to her,” Griss stated as he leaned against Alear’s back.
The two had just finished collecting more “tributes” for Sombron to turn into corrupted. Taking a break nearby, the two began to chat as they watched the sun slowly set.
Alear hated every aspect of this task, burning towns, killing random townspeople, watching their corpses reanimate to the very thing he despised… it was all revolting.
“Is that so?” The dragon responded, staring at the burning sunset as he allowed the other to lean against him.
“Yep. Told me she was the mother, Marnie was my younger sister and Mauvier my older brother. Tch, I have no clue what goes on in that mind of hers.”
Alear wondered for a moment how Veyle would treat him if she knew he was her older brother?
Happiness? Disgust? Repulsion? Fear?
No, it mattered not, these thoughts were frivolous. She was the enemy now, and she could never overcome their father. She had failed the first time after all.
“Fell One? You listening or what?” The sage asked with an annoyed tone as he leaned further onto Alear, purposefully trying to rouse a reaction from him.
“I am,” Alear bluntly responded, doing nothing to stop the other’s movements as Griss’ bloodied clothes seeped into his.
“Hmph, I’m surprised she didn’t add you. I’d say you’d be the youngest sibling of this family.”
“How so?”
“You act so moody and distant all the time, like Mauvier except you’re much easier to mess around with.”
“But I’m older than you.”
“I doubt it, and it can’t be by that much. You look way too young.”
“I’m only somewhat younger than Zephia.”
“What? Zephia is like a 1000 years o- oh.” Griss commented as his eyes widened remembering the fact Alear was in fact, far older than he was.
“I was sleeping Griss.”
“Forgot you’re also like a fossil, huh?”
“…you may spar by yourself next time.”
“Hey!”
Alear hated being here, but Griss made it slightly more bearable.
…
Fire surrounded him, it was everywhere he looked.
Port Flora was ablaze, and it was his doing.
Sombron had ordered it, and Sombron’s will was his own.
“Haha! Look at the Divine One’s army in shambles! Can’t wait to dig into them and see how they struggle back!” Griss cheered as he excitedly glanced at the ring he wore.
The Ring of The Caring Priestess adorned his finger, the ring that blonde princess wore before he had stolen it in Destinea Cathedral. He remembered the devastated expression she had while running away, almost on the verge of tears with her brother having to console her.
“Let’s not get too distracted now Griss, we need to make sure to take their rings back.” Zephia chimed in, equally intrigued at the battle to come.
“I’ll make sure to take out so many of them you’ll have to praise me!” Marnie added, gripping her axe tightly as she marched to her designated location.
“Stay safe Lord Alear,” Mauvier warned as he glanced at him cautiously before taking off to stand near Marnie.
Glancing on the ring on his finger, Alear gently gazed at the Ring of The Hero King. For whatever reason staring at Marth made his heart feel… devoid. As if the emblem pitied him, and desperately wanted to reach out towards him.
Perhaps he missed his past owner?
No, he must be imagining things. Emblems summoned by him couldn’t have their own minds. They were tools, like him.
But… he couldn’t shake the feeling.
“Zephia,” Alear called out as he looked towards the mage dragon by his side.
“Yes Lord Alear?” She deftly responded, bowing her head as she awaited his command.
“Trade rings with me, I’ll use the Holy Knight this battle.”
Exchanging him a befuddled expression but nonetheless agreeing, Zephia slipped him her ring.
Taking off Marth’s ring, the Emblem’s sorrowful look engraved itself into Alear’s mind. He wasn’t deserving of such looks of pity, he was beyond redemption now.
Preparing for the Divine Dragon’s forces, Alear summoned Sigurd to his side, ready to face his own sister.
…
Zephia’s slap had wounded him, but his failure had hurt him even more.
The other hounds watched in surprise as Zephia’s hand marked his skin rogue from its sheer force. Mauvier was ready to object while Marnie stared in horror at Zephia’s action.
Griss meanwhile looked upon him with a strange expression, almost as if he were infuriated yet envious.
But he deserved this. He was the reason why they lost Sigurd’s and Lief’s Emblem rings after being defeated by the Divine Dragon’s forces.
He was a defect no matter how much he tried to hide it.
Perhaps if he were lucky, Sombron would kill him himself rather than letting the corrupted do his bidding this time.
…
“Why do you pierce your skin?”
“Because I liked the feeling of getting them.”
“Is that why you have that marking on your face?”
“This? Heh, no this was a punishment given to me by Fell Dragon worshippers. Probably the best thing I ever experienced in my whole life,” Griss explained with a wide smile as his eyes displayed a brazen focus onto the other man.
By now, the duo had become accustomed to one another’s presence. Alear spoke to him when Mauvier was preoccupied and Griss sought him out for amusement away from the other hounds.
A mutual relationship forged from boredom.
Allowing his desires to take the better of him, Alear outreached his hands to cup Griss’ face and examined him. Griss only closed his eyes and hummed, content with letting the dragon admire his facial features and accessories.
“How much had it hurt to pierce this?” The Fell Dragon pondered aloud as he noticed the piercing on Griss’ ear.
“That one? Hardly felt anything when I got it done. A waste of time to be honest,” the green haired man responded as he rolled his eyes.
“Would you mind giving me one?”
“Huh!? Well, I guess I wouldn’t mind. But I expect a good reward later for this. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you wield that sword against me!”
“I’ll think about it.”
Perhaps, this would be a mark that Griss would leave on him permanently; not anything like the bruises from their battles or the ichor from their atrocities.
It would be far better than anything his father had ever left for him.
…
“You know, I’m surprised you’re still alive to be honest.” Griss remarked as he prepared Alear’s ear to be pierced.
“Why?”
“Zephia told me something about Sombron having a tendency of killing his children or something, didn’t matter to me honestly but I guess that means you’re like the only survivor left huh?”
“…I guess so.”
Veyle was alive, but she was a Divine Dragon now, nothing like her defect of a sibling.
“What was your family like Griss?” Alear asked, attempting to wade his thoughts away from his own family.
“God awful. All they did was complain and beat me, and couldn't even be bothered to raise me. I was glad when they sold me, at least then I met Zephia. She took me out of that dump and brought me somewhere where I could truly experience pain to my heart’s content.”
Without any warning, the sage pierced Alear’s ear lobe, inciting a minor wince from the man.
“Please tell me when first you’re going to do that next time,” the dragon complained as he gave the green haired man a glare.
“Crybaby.”
After his piercing, Alear stared at the new hole his ear now had. Vacant, sore, and flushed pink, yet intriguing nonetheless.
“Make sure to wash it every night so you don’t get an infection or whatever. Now we just need to find something for you to wear… here, take this.”
Handing Alear a black earring, the crimson haired man observed the ornament carefully.
It was a simple darkened chain, nothing out of the ordinary, yet it was fascinating to the dragon entirely.
“Thank you Griss.”
“You can thank me later with that punishment!”
The two of them were lost without anyone to ever love them, this truly was a miserable world.
At least he had found somebody else to wallow with.
…
“Mauvier and Marnie have failed their mission, the Divine Dragon’s army is getting closer to Elusia Castle.” Zephia grumbled as she approached Alear.
“Shall we prepare for them?” Alear commented as he prepared his blade.
“No, Lord Sombron asked that you and I accompany him to Lythos Castle in preparation for the ritual.”
“What about Griss and the other hounds?”
“They’ll come join us after they stall the Divine Dragon’s forces at Elusia Castle. Although, Marnie and Mauvier will need a moment to recover after their… punishment. Why, is something the matter Lord Alear?”
Looking towards the castle’s exit, the dragon closed his eyes and once more feigned his distant facade.
“No. Nothing is the matter, let’s go Zephia.”
Griss could handle himself, he was sure of it.
…
He watched Marnie be stabbed by Zephia, the poor girl falling to her end as she gasped her final breath, apologizing to Veyle.
He watched Mauvier defect, leaving him alongside Zephia and Griss. The remaining hounds only watched him in disappointment while Alear could only numbly process his departure.
He watched as his father transformed, utilizing all twelve Emblems and smiled grimly as he told Alear his job was finished.
He watched to see his father charge an attack, the moment he knew was coming for him when he watched many of his siblings meet the same end.
And yet, he didn’t feel anything.
Instead, he watched Veyle die before his own eyes, shielding him from their father’s attack.
Grasping for her fragile body, he watched as the dragonstone he carried crumbled into pieces, solidifying his worst fears.
Was he truly destined to always be alone in the end?
…
But then, he watched her come back to life as all the Emblems came together to perform their miracle upon her.
Alive once more, she reached her hand out to him with kind eyes and a gentle expression.
“I’m sorry for forgetting about you Alear, but I promise from now on, we’ll always be together. I’ll never let you suffer alone from now on, big brother.” Veyle said softly, patiently waiting for him to join her.
Tears seeped down his eyes as he looked at her hand, unwavering as it awaited for him to hold onto it.
He thought of Marnie, who gave her life to ensure Veyle would live after realizing the consequences of her actions and Zephia’s cruelty.
He thought of Mauvier who begged for Alear to come with him, as if the knight had truly thought of him as something more than a puppet.
He thought of Zephia’s blade thrusting into Marnie’s flesh, soon to be his own if he followed after.
He thought of Griss, who eyed him curiously as he departed with Zephia to meet with Sombron at Gradlon. Copper eyes unreadable, unknowing if the sage cared that he would live or not.
Staring at the fragmented stone in his hand, Alear looked up.
He didn’t deserve this.
But he wanted it so badly.
Hesitantly, as if he were making his first ever choice in this life, Alear put his hand onto Veyle’s.
He was beyond salvation, but at least he could be with Veyle once more.
Perhaps, there could be an ending for him that wasn’t so bad.
…
“Well, well, well. We meet again Lord Alear.” Griss stated as he faced the Fell Dragon with a wicked expression, hand readying his tome.
“Griss,” Alear replied, gripping his sword in response as he pointed it towards him.
“Come to finally give me that punishment, haven’t you?”
“…I suppose so.”
“Then you better hold nothing back!”
…
Like all the spars that took place in the pale snows of Elusia, Alear was victorious.
Releasing his sword from within the sage, Alear watched as the man stumbled back and fell onto a nearby rock, a passionate expression contorted onto his face.
“Y-you finally gave me what I wanted, huh?” The sage gasped as he watched his own blood seep onto the floor.
Staring at his former comrade, the dragon bent down by his side to approach him.
“You’re a fool you know that? I-I could strike you down right now if I wanted to.”
“You wouldn’t,” the dragon responded as he sat next to the bleeding man, uncaring of the ichor that now soaked onto his clothing.
Reaching for his hand, Alear held onto the sage’s palm. Griss made no movement to push him off, instead, holding on a little tighter.
“…it was fun while it lasted, wasn’t it Alear?“
“Griss…”
“Hmph, you can’t even let go of that miserable look on your face even when… I’m bleeding out.”
Amber eyes peering into red eyes, Griss continued on.
“Y’know, I couldn’t stand you when we first met. You were so quiet and desolate, like you had given up on everything; absolutely dead inside. It sickened me.”
“So I kept on bothering you, seeing if anything interesting would happen if I could break through that mask of your’s. And when you pulverized me in that first battle, I knew there was something I liked about you.”
Alear didn’t know what to feel.
Disgust? Remorse? Joy? Pain?
It all felt numb to him at the very moment, holding onto the man he grew to care for despite their differences.
“…Still wearing that thing on your ear? Heh, thought you’d take it off considering we’re on opposite sides now,” Griss said with a depreciative laugh, glancing at the earring that Alear adorned.
The sage outreached his hand to touch the earring that Alear had worn, now dyed with the reddish taint of ichor alike its owner.
“P-please don’t leave me Griss,” Alear cried out, his facade slowly crumbling as the overwhelming burden of his emotions poured into him.
He hated feeling like this, almost as much as he hated not feeling at all. He didn’t know what to feel but he also didn’t care what to feel at this moment.
It was too much.
Seeing Alear’s face so in such agony, desperation, and eyes shrouded in turbidity, Griss let out a hoarse chuckle. With what little remaining strength he had left, the green haired man brought the dragon’s face closer, enrapturing the other man into a kiss.
The taste of iron permeated in Alear’s mouth, it revolted him. And yet, he desired more, as if the taste of Griss could ever sate the longing pain within him.
He wished this moment was to be never ending, to endure this agony for as long as he could if it meant he could stay with the other man.
Releasing Alear from his sudden embrace, the sage looked at the distraught man with a confident expression.
“Finally, you dropped that stupid… facade,” Griss heaved as his breath grew even more ragged.
“H-huh?”
“That look of terror and desperation, but also wanting so much more… it’s just the same as when I experience pain, h-how exquisite.”
Finally content, Griss slumped onto the floor, his bleeding slowing as his eyelids flickered.
“D-don’t die on me G-Griss. P-please. GRISS!” Alear yelled out as he shook the man near him, seeking any trace of life within him.
“I… I don’t know what to call what we have. I’ve never felt love before, hell I can’t even tell what is, but whatever screwed up version I had… it’s all yours Alear.”
“G… Griss?” The dragon cried, tears unleashed from his eyes as he stared at the man below him in disbelief.
“Hah, your tears are wasted on me… but I can’t say I hate it. D-don’t come for me, hell doesn’t need one more… person.”
With a serene smile, Griss let himself bleed onto the floor; an end fitting for a person such as himself.
Alear stared at Griss, eyes filled with an unknown emotion.
Dread, ephemerality, regret, lust, sorrow, euphoria, he couldn’t describe it.
Griss was illogical to him, his epicaricacy and cruelty was completely incomprehensible to him.
Alear despised the pain that Griss sought, but had loved him.
Yet, with pain came emotion and with emotion came the truth that you were living.
Alear was alive.
Griss was dead.