Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

OKAY Y'ALL LISTEN UP!

Before you people rag on me for not being true to Creatures of Sonaria lore, listen to this--

I don't give a [censored]

Read the tags! 

Additionally, the Creatures of Sonaria lore is so screwed and so sparse, imma just ignore most of it to make my own. Of course, I'll remain true to a select few (such as the location of Warden Shrines) but most of this imma make myself. I'm not a fanatic of Creatures of Sonaria. I just think the creatures look pretty and I can make stories on 'em.

Mind you, this is self indulgence. 

If you have constructive criticism, I will listen. But if you don't, and you just insult me, imma delete it and dance on the empty spot left.

Also, I'm aware that the order of Wardens I put down is not the actual order they came in. Do I care? Not particularly. This entire story is just a way for me to get my lore down. With that, feel free to read! (And comment, please, thanks)

--Oracle

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, Sonaria was a land torn by war. Torn by clans. Torn by creatures. Blood and tears soaked the earth and deathly crimson flowers bloomed atop corpses. 

O~O

A Galtekron mother soared above Sonaria, claiming neutrality by nomadic nature between all. She belonged to no clan, no tribe, no pack, and neither did her children. 

From Volcano to the Cove, to the Desert, to the Mesa… From the Mesa to the Mountains to the Tundra… Forever and ever would she circle around Sonaria, until her children grew old, until she grew old, until they all fell to a clan or a predator.

…And the wind washed away their bodies in a burning caress. 

O~O

Once upon a time, Sonaria’s sky split open and bathed the world awash in hues of green, blue, purple, and red for nine days and ten nights. 

O~O

A Galtekron mother stumbled and shrieked.

Before her, the sky split open, and the world was set awash with colors Sonaria had never seen before. 

They pulsated across the sky as if alive, and unbidden, the image of one of her eggs came to mind.

O~O

They called it the Warden’s Nebula, for from it, the first Warden emerged. 

O~O

A Galtekron mother watched, morbidly fascinated, as the colors pulsed and formed into a creature with four legs and an upper body that stood. It had horns adorning the crown of its head, and it carried with it an aura of unmistakable power.

O~O

The Verdant Warden looked upon the ruin and crimson-flower corpses that littered the fertile grounds of Sonaria and wept with pity for the hatchlings that were killed in the pursuit of all-encompassing power. 

O~O

A Galtekron mother, seven moons after the sky broke and rained down color, sobbed over her youngest child’s crimson flower-laden corpse.

The creature that had appeared out of the nebula had looked upon the whole scene with a great sorrow in their features.

O~O

They say that the Verdant Warden traveled across Sonaria, gathering hatchlings without mothers, mothers who lost hatchlings, lonely little individuals without a clan to go back to. 

O~O

“I need to go.”

A Galtekron mother jolted in surprise. In her own, disjointed voice, she asked the strange-one. “Why?”

The strange-one shuffled, and their horns glinted in the sunlight. “I need to,” they repeated, as if not fully knowing the reason themself. 

The Galtekron mother lay her head back and wished that she could cry. “Fine.” So you wish to leave me as well.

“You’re coming with me, right?”

The Galtekron mother’s head swiveled towards the strange-one at a speed only a newborn Brequewk would match. “Pardon?”

“I want you to come with me.” the strange-one rephrased patiently. 

“...Why?”

The strange-one hummed. “I don’t want to leave you on your own.”

O~O

Once upon a time, in the age of the Verdant, there was a clan that began in a cove of Flowers.

O~O

A Galtekron mother’s chest twisted as her family cut their mental link with her off. She had abandoned their nomadic roots. She had abandoned their movement and reign of the skies. She had grounded herself in a clan.

And yet… as she looked at the baby Lure nipping at the end of one of her spines, she couldn’t bring herself to care. 

A clan for all and sundry.

O~O

They say that the Verdant Warden was the first Warden. And that they united Sonaria under their own rule. 

O~O

Over the span of a hundred years, Sonaria had experienced an era of peace under the Verdant Warden as never seen before. 

And then the sky split open again. 

O~O

A century after the Verdant Warden’s arrival, the sky split open again. The nebula glowed with luminous power. And out came the Ardor Warden.

O~O

In the eyes of the Galtekron mother, the Ardor Warden was but a child. An incredibly powerful child, yes–one that could even send their predecessor the Verdant Warden a few wounds more than would be left on him–but still a child.

A small part of her mourned the fact that Sonaria was so unkind to her residents. The children she’s seen grow into mad-ones because they had grown alone. 

And here there was another child. 

Newly born, fresh with expectation. 

The Verdant Warden (blessed be their presence) gave the Ardor Warden half of Sonaria, set his capital in the Swamp and told him to rule. 

The Galtekron mother felt a flash of pity.

The Ardor Warden left without complaint. 

(He was still a child)

O~O

The Verdant Warden, benevolent as their nature, split Sonaria in half along the arrival of the Ardor Warden. The Verdant gave the West side to the Ardor. The Verdant kept the East. And peace remained. 

O~O

“Why did you do that?”

“Hm?”

The Galtekron mother turned to the Verdant Warden. “He was a child. He didn’t know anything. You could have taught him.” 

“Ah.” The Verdant Warden laughed softly. “He’ll be fine.”

The Galtekron mother clenched her jaw. “How are you so sure?”

“It’s a Warden thing.” 

The Galtekron mother ripped into a carcass. 

(It was of an old Hemokai, well on her way to death… She had turned herself in for sustenance. She had surrendered herself to be eaten. 

“It’s fine.” the old Hemokai whispered. “I have already lived my life well.”

The Galtekron mother said nothing. 

She ripped into the Hemokai’s throat.

It died.

She died.)

O~O

Once upon a time, there was a shift in the earth. Sonaria shook, and the world tilted. From the ground, chunks were removed and they flew into the sky. 

And they stayed there. 

O~O

“We both have gathered to discuss the… situation of the sky islands.” The Verdant Warden announced. 

The Ardor Warden remained silent. The Lmakosauradon he brought with him spoke instead. “What situation is there with the sky islands?”

The Verdant Warden glanced at the Ardor Warden in surprise. Though, they still seemed to realize how this meeting was going to go on. “Given that they are nigh-uninhabitable, and seem to migrate around Sonaria, we cannot solidly place the territory between you and I.”

The Lmakosauradon glanced at the Ardor Warden. The Ardor Warden nodded. The Lmakosauradon spoke.

“What need is there to place ownership over the territory?”

The Verdant Warden tilted their head. The Lmakosauradon continued. 

“Why not just leave it neutral territory?”

The Verdant Warden smiled. “We are not at war.” they murmured. “What need is there for neutral territory?”

It was then that the Ardor Warden spoke. “No one is at war now.”

The Galtekron mother’s heart stuttered. A threat?

“What my Lord means to say is…” the Lmakosauradon sent a light glare towards the Ardor Warden, before continuing. “The Fliers have a tendency to have their own little battles in the sky, which my Lord and your Majesty cannot interfere in for you are bound to the earth. It would be neutral territory for the Fliers. Not us. A good place to start and end battles, hold treaties and truces in the air.”

The Verdant Warden seemed to go distant for a while, thinking about the offer. “Very well then. Neutral territory.” 

The Lmakosauradon and Ardor Warden shared a look and nodded. “Then this is done?” the Lmakosauradon asked. 

The Verdant Warden waved benignly. “Yes, yes. Go and do whatever it is you do in the West.” 

The Ardor Warden and the Lmakosauradon turned around and left.

The Galtekron mother’s heart did not stop sinking. 

O~O

At the end of the second century, the sky split open for the third time. 

O~O

This one was large. It bled strength out of the sparse feathers decorating its crown. It looked coldly upon the world, and the winter breeze tickled at the Galtekron mother’s heart. 

Boreal Warden, her mind whispered, and it was all she could do to agree. 

The Verdant Warden gave it the Tundra and Mountains. 

Half a century later, without warning, the Verdant Warden disappeared. 

And the Boreal Warden attempted to seize power. 

O~O

Once upon a time, the night came early, and the moon turned red. The Boreal Warden came out of the Tundra, and around it circled a ring of rage. 

O~O

The Galtekron mother wanted to take to the sky, wanted to leave, wanted to return to her family and be free of a clan bond again. 

She curled up and whimpered.

The Boreal Warden roared.

The Ardor Warden remained silent.

The Desert shook. 

O~O

The battle raged on for the second half-century. 

It broke with the fourth Warden Nebula.

O~O

The Galtekron mother mourned her species’ nigh-immortality for the first time since her child died. 

The sky cracked open. 

Before her fell the fourth Warden. 

He was a tiny thing. 

He had a tail that, perhaps later, would snap like a mouth, though at the moment now, it merely nibbled. It had horns that curled down and forward and six blinking eyes. 

Signature of its stature, strength bled out of his presence. 

He has a mask floating above his face. The Galtekron mother noticed tiredly. Just like the Ardor Warden. Just like the Boreal Warden. Just like… the Verdant Warden. 

She looked at the hatchling (it came out of the sky could it even be called hatchling?) and a voice in her mind, not nearly yet forgotten, whispered–

Hellion Warden.

O~O

The Boreal Warden took the Mountains and Tundra under her purview, wresting the Western hot springs from the Ardor Warden’s grasp. The Ardor Warden took and kept the rest of green-Sonaria, leaving the Flowering Cove as neutral ground, where they kept a shrine honoring the Verdant Warden. 

The Hellion Warden took the empty ruins that were now called the ‘Desert’. 

O~O

This was a bad decision. 

The Galtekron mother looked as the Hellion Warden–the hatchling–tripped over its own feet and chirped stupidly, not yet developed enough to make comprehensible sounds. 

She looked around the Oasis.

…What was left of it, at least.

The cavernous ceiling crumbled down, all vegetation destroyed, the hole ran dry for collapsed tunnels connecting it to the water, and there was nothing as far as her eye could see. 

They would starve.

They would suffer.

They would die.

The Galtekron mother sat down morosely. 

She couldn’t carry the child. 

She was too weak. 

Her wings were too weak. 

(She should’ve been flying all this time–perhaps then her wings would be stronger and she’d be actually useful)

Then, a babyish squeak sounded out. And a buzz. 

Before her, a Beezu and a baby Jotunhel popped out of the rubble-ridden remains of the Oasis pond. 

The Hellion Warden chirped. 

They chirped back.

The Desert… Perhaps it could be rebuilt.

O~O

And so it went on. 

Every century, a nebula came. 

Every half of that, a blood moon.

O~O

The Galtekron mother looked up at the sky. Her wings were shriveled from so long on the ground. 

She was too tired to feel envy for the small family of Vaumoras circling above her, making loops in the air as if it were nothing with their powerful wings. 

The Hellion Warden, now grown after a century, subtracting a quarter, sat beside her quietly. 

The Desert Oasis was a hub of life. 

They had fixed it.

Beside her, she could hear the young (not anymore now, was she?) Jotunhel’s squawking laugh as a baby Vaumora nipped at her tail. 

The young Beezu had died recently, though not before making a Hive of her own and setting herself as the constructor for most of the Oasis. 

The Galtekron mother looked up at the sky, and found her view being blocked by the lovely cavernous ceilings of the Oasis. 

The Hellion Warden broke first.

“Are you… okay?”

The Galtekron mother looked at him without looking at him. “I’ve forgotten my family’s migratory patterns.”

The Hellion Warden tilted his head. 

The Galtekron mother quietly curled up on the ground, her body aching for the feel of the wind against her scales. And she closed her eyes.

O~O

The Warden Nebula arrived once more, for the fifth time, and over the ocean it pulsated. From the light coalesced a creature without wings, without lungs, but fins and gills and teeth to rend life from limb. 

O~O

The voice was an old, unwelcome friend by now. 

Eigion Warden, it whispered. 

Shut up. The Galtekron mother whispered back. 

The Oceans weren’t safe anymore. 

O~O

The Warden Nebula arrived once more, for the sixth, and for the first time in millenia, the volcano stirred from dormancy. The smoky clouds covered the sky. The light was sparse. 

It failed to coalesce.

The Garra Warden was born.

O~O

A pitiful thing, creatures whispered, A pathetic thing. 

A mistake of a Warden. 

The Galtekron mother’s eyes cracked open. So a Warden was born with the blessing of the Volcano, were they?

She closed her eyes and thought back to when she was but a hatchling. 

Back when the volcano wasn’t dormant. 

When the Arsonos and the Khetherals and the Iztajuatls ruled the Volcano with little to challenge them. 

When the Caldonterrusi used to feast on the lava. 

When the Sochuris used to nest in the cavernous magma pits of the fissure of earth. 

When the Kavouradis used to migrate from the water to the Volcano freely.

Legends used to say they were immune to the magma the Volcano spewed so mercilessly. 

Perhaps this Warden was just like that. 

Albeit smaller, of course. 

But if the winds prove right, the Galtekron mother thought exhaustedly, her head lolling to the side, No less fearsome than his older siblings. 

O~O

The Boreal Warden attempted to expand her territory to the Volcano. 

O~O

The Boreal Warden attacked the Volcano. 

A terrible move, really. 

(The Galtekron mother supposed the frozen Warden was somewhat desperate.)

The Garra Warden had hissed a haunting sound, and fire rained down upon the Boreal Warden’s forces. 

The Boreal Warden was sent back to the Tundra, one of the eyes on her beautiful visage scarred shut. She licked her wounds for the next century.

She didn’t attack again.

O~O

The Warden Nebula seemed distant, for the seventh, an ever-moving fixture against the sky. 

And so the Novus Warden descended.

O~O

The Novus Warden was a happy little thing. Flitting around. A queen of the sky. 

She didn’t have wings.

Ugly emotion jealousy is, isn’t it?

The Galtekron mother could only watch as the Novus Warden forged an alliance with her second Lord the Hellion Warden while the sky islands she claimed (which were supposed to be neutral territories, why, why, why–) were hovering over the Oasis.

O~O

At the half century mark between the birth of Novus and the birth of Angelic, when the Blood Moon began, so too did a War. 

The Garra Warden claimed neutrality.

The Hellion and Novus Wardens claimed their own side, stealing resources from the Ardor and Boreal for the lack their own regions had.

The Ardor and Boreal Wardens ruthlessly lay waste to the Sonarian soil between them, rings of rage lighting their path.

The Eigion Warden killed everyone equally.

O~O

Quarter of a century had passed since the Blood Moon began, in the middle of the age of Novus. 

Too long.

The Galtekron mother watched as a Kendyll fell to the madness and chewed on the body of a baby Gyroudus. 

His children were huddled in the water, shuddering, terrified, not yet susceptible to the madness as those who had lived long and lost innocence.

The Galtekron mother shut her eyes and climbed clumsily to a ledge. How long until the sun rises? She shut her eyes. The Blood Moon’s sadistic laugh-and-rumble pounded against her head. How long until the sun rises?

When her eyes opened, the Kendyll was gone, and his children were floating in the blood-stained water. There wasn’t much left of them.

Belatedly, she remembered that the Oasis pond was connected to the Ocean by a tunnel long-forgotten.

O~O

Madness came to those who were older. Those who had made choices and then regretted. 

Madness came to those who grew up alone, without anyone to rely on. To those with clans that were massacred, with children slaughtered and mates slaughtered, and mothers and fathers slaughtered.

Madness came to those who listened to the Blood Moon’s laugh for too long.

O~O

The rain thundered down. The sky cracked with a boom. 

The Thunderstorm was as unforgiving as ever. 

A crimson Galtekron mother and her mate and their three children were soaring easily across the horrific sky. 

Yearning.

Jealousy.

She spread her withered, shriveled wings and beat them. Once. Twice.

She couldn’t get off the ground.

Her head pounded.

The laugh resounded. 

The Galtekron mother screamed.

When she awoke and the white noise subsided, the Galtekron family was no longer in the sky, a childish wing gorged on her claw, and her jaw was bloody.

No.

O~O

They say the Boreal Warden became more and more ruthless. That the Garra Warden wouldn’t exit the core of the Volcano. That the Ardor Warden became distant. Wardens were as susceptible to madness as the rest.

The only place where anyone was safe from the madness of the Blood Moon was the Flower Cove, where the Verdant Warden’s shrine would pulse and chase the insanity away. 

They who protect children.

They who protect innocence.

O~O

The Galtekron mother sobbed every step of the way. Her shriveled wings spasmed. The laugh ate at her mind.

She didn’t stop moving.

The Desert was endless. 

She was sure she’d starve.

The heat was an ever-present pressure on her scales.

She was in the Flower Cove.

Where the Lure nibbled at her tail.

Where was the Lure now?

A mangled recreation of who she once was. 

She stumbled over to the Verdant Warden’s shrine, sobbing and sobbing and sobbing, and she begged for forgiveness. 

She bit at her wings, her mind unable to think against the laughing and the heat that scourged the land, and–

She ripped them off. 

Lay them at the foot of the shrine as tribute.

She left.

The laugh was no louder, nor any softer.

She felt the phantom shifting of her wings and, once the heatwave passed, cried anew at her own stupidity.

O~O

Once upon a time, the sun didn’t rise. Corpses littered the ground, and deathly crimson flowers bloomed atop them.

And then the Warden Nebula came.

O~O

She had burrowed herself into a cave. She was no mother. She was no Galtekron. What was a Galtekron without wings, wings, wings?

The laugh ate at her mind. 

The Hellion Warden whom she raised had stopped asking after her… Was she so forgettable? Truly useless. Truly, truly useless.

She hit her head against the sandy cave wall. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

She didn’t stop. 

Blood sprinkled against the ground, dainty in comparison to the barbaric claw streaks that had been raked against the wall.

Distantly, she noted that the voice never-forgotten was back. It whispered.

Angelic Warden. 

No.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no no–

She slammed her head against the wall. 

And then her mind was awash in silence.

The laugh was gone. 

Tentatively, she exited the sandy cave.

The moon was blue. 

Her mind was silent.

She could finally think.

If she weren’t so tired, she would smile.

O~O

They used to say the Galtekrons were the annals of history. Through them would the past be known. Through the pattern of their wings would eras be told. 

For they were immortal, scavenging nomads, unaligned with anyone, neutral amongst all Wardens. 

Who would doubt such unwavering neutrality?

O~O

“Hello, dear sister.”

The Galtekron mother froze. She turned around mechanically.

Another Galtekron stood before her. Her figure was unimpeded by scars. She was beautiful. 

“Thyria.” the Galtekron mother said quietly. “Hello.”

Thyria looked upon the Galtekron mother coldly. “Time has not done you any favors as it has me.”

The Galtekron mother refused to crumble.

“I came here for a rumor of a stationary Galtekron. The Family thought about adopting.” she tilted her head mockingly, and jutted her nose towards the awkward-looking blank spots on the Galtekron mother’s back. “Though… plans change. Galtekron’s not much a Galtekron anymore, now is it?”

“Stop it.”

“Why?” her sister leaned in closer, sharp teeth bared in a mocking hurt grin. “Can I not collect my dues, dear sister? For the silence you’ve gifted me with all these centuries?”

“Stop it.”

“You left us.” Thyria continued, poking and poking. “Why should I–”

“My children.” The Galtekron mother interrupted, and instead of her voice being stony, it was blank and dull. Resigned. “They died before me.”

Thyria’s face remained expressionless. She was silent for a few moments before sighing. “I suppose you never could handle grief so well, dear sister.”

Hope bloomed in the Galtekron mother’s chest. 

Her sister spread her wings. Flapped once. 

And she was off the ground.

Two hatchlings followed her.

Their motions were stumbling.

The patterns of their wings were reminiscent of Thyria’s.

They didn’t look back.

The Galtekron mother wailed.

O~O

Once upon a time…

O~O

The skies rained down acid. The Galtekron mother left her abode. Distantly, she heard the Hellion Warden desperately call after her. 

The rain burned at her skin.

She closed her eyes.

For the first time in 800 years, she smiled. 

When the rain stopped, she was gone.

…And the wind washed away her body in a burning caress.

O~O

Once upon a time, Sonaria was at peace.