Read the previous chapter here

Desperate evils generally make men safe.

Seneca the Younger

Entering the forest, Kel shivered when the felt the first rain drops. Indeed, he needed to understand his new human body would require him some conditioning. For he could actually feel cold. Staring to run away in great hurry, he had rushed under the natural boulder, and now waited.
Chilling because of the cold, Kel rose the eyes towards the green sky. Noticing how the fog had vanished, he sniffed the air, and the smoke had vanished. Kel deduced the smell of smoke was an side-effect of the earlier Fog.

Seeing the sun rising, he realized that nights carried the Fog… If sun castes it aside,  could the Fog be made of pure Illyrian magic?  The High Magic of my people could do the thinkable. This was an evil force, the pure High Magic, for it took advantage of others. Only masses heavy like as Sun or the sea couldn’t be altered by it, and therefore temper it and casts its effects aside. Kel understood that without for the sun, the Fog would have already covered the entire world. Following this logic, he asked himself if the Fog covered the ocean as well. Kel blessed the old gods and the new for preserving the Prince of Night’s Observatory back in the Unification wars. It had proved powerful enough to protect the sun back all this centuries. Wondering about it, he asked himself who possessed his Observatory, and what would happen if it couldn’t maintain the sun from collapsing anymore, or if someone destroyed it. After 700 years, who on This Land had control of this academical haven for scholars, one who kept entire planets and suns intact? Without the Observatory, the Fog would swallow everything within a handful of days!

Kel stood.

“Help! a voice cried”

A figure ran towards him. A human.

It screams were painful to ear. Its face was melted, as if a mask had burnt on him. Its scars on his hands and self-arm indicated that the sentient human had infused himself with magical medicine. Or drug… Kel wondered.

Kel walked forward and opened his hand, breathing from below his belly the little Ka he had left and let its burning sensations run through his body. Attracting the life of the particles around him, he fixed the human, who after gloaming, collapsed, completely healed. Approaching the naked figure, he looked down upon what used to be a suspicious looking human with a melted mask for face. It wasn’t an it anymore but a her. A gorgeous young female, pretty for a human. Kel would have taken her long ago if she played her seduction well enough to enter the Illyrian circles. She looked completely relaxed, as Kel’s High Magic worked in a similar manner than the Fog. His theory of a high magical Fog now proven canonical just confirmed his fears. However, her face distracted him from an apocalypse who would come anyway, and he smiled with assurance. She is human, but us Illyrian Knights have vowed to protect her kind, the Act of Sibilam would never waver. Of course, she looked adorable and weak, but crafty and smarter than her condition seemed to suggest.

“Who are you?’ Kel asked to the girl.

“The same goes for you, ser,’ she replied. ‘How come a… vagabond of your calibre masters High Magic?

– It is a long story I believe, one that you wouldn’t buy. I recall to have been the one asking a question in the first place. So, how come a human scum such as yourself has knowledge of Illyrian sorcery?”

She glanced at him in shock, and disdain. Like if she didn’t understand why Kel called her ‘human’. Indeed, Illyrians and humans shared a lot of similarities and belonged to a similar species. However, illyrans had ruled over humans as part of natural evolution, Kel’s race being simply… better. Therefore, illyrans nobility never granted human peasantry audiences, generally preferring to avoid them.

“I guess I should trust you, since you saved my body’, she said, probably acknowledging his advantage over her. A healer could curse. “I am Aveline Flintshire, and you ser?

– I am Ismair valenKel,’ he replied, awaiting her to jump to his feet.

Instead, she busted into laugher.

Does it amuse her? Is she insane.

“You are mad, ser,’ she laughed.

As she blushed, her naked body gloomed and she slowly got covered by a leather clothing, tight on hips and legs, colored by a purple taint.

“How dare you, human!” Kel’s fury rose, but his surroundings didn’t react. I’ve turned into a weakling… Kel’s anger tempered when he understood a new limitation. Once, he could engulf a battlefield with his wrath, now he was mocked by a human wench. As if magic left this world… 

“Many men have claimed to be the Last Dragon, my good ser, but only a few could heal me the way you just did. Which order hid you?

– Order?” Kel asked, wondering of her nonsense.

“The Twelve Orders? Where do you come from?’ she said. “They were founded during the Wars of Creation. It was the time the Lord Founder forged the Imperial Order thanks to Ismair valenKel’s messianic sacrifice. Before being slayed by the Dark Lord, the Lord Founder founded the Orders to carry on the use of magic… “

And a fine job they’ve done.

“Every hero, villain, king or emperor hailed from one of the twelve. They are Prime to Last, and they are the champions of humankind.”

Ismair valenKel laughed in his turn.

“Sure, humankind rules the world…”

Aveline seemed slightly worried, until she smiled.

“Well, good ser, shall we reach this city and get you some clothes, before they arrest you for breaking His Majesty’s Own.”

Nodding, Kel realised she didn’t believe him.  You are a hero and saint in this day and age, the magi said after keeping frozen for 700 years. She had called him the Last Dragon. Tears ran of his cheeks, as he fell on his knees.

“Dissappear,’ he ordered.

Aveline must have wanted to argue, then she must have noticed something in Kel. Something that made her shiver as she fled away, running if worse than a melted face just threatened her being.

The Last Dragon…

It meant, his kin had lost. It meant that defeating Shand hadn’t been enough. The Half-Blood King, Sigmalion, must have betrayed the dragonlords of Illyria and destroyed them instead of bringing peace like promised. Extremists such as Lucius nar’Amonaga had been right all along. Ismair valenKel awakened in a world where his race had been exterminated. He roared his rage, and Shand’s power spread in all directions, east, west, north and south. All around the Land, the Fog had turned red.

As for Ismair valenKel the weakling, he had turned into a dragon.

Next chapter here


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