Storm front

He wasn’t sure if this was a training session or a practice in sadism. The vast field of spinning blades looked like it had no openings in it, and yet the man casually stepped through it as if it were nothing. Rapidly his eyes searched around for the target, though he wasn’t quick enough to respond to the foot slamming into the back of his head, or the floor that came to meet him. This time he didn’t give under the weight of the things beneath him, though the ground did crack from the sheer force of it.

Slack armed smack? What the hell? He thought to himself, feeling a part of his mind begin to rise. A more primal feeling one that wanted blood. Not this play but something more. Despite that he tried to push his head up, quite eating stone so to speak. He should have been pissed, but this was just a show of everything he was lacking.  If his wings were restrained then it was fine, he didn’t need them.

”If they’re in my way I don’t need them,”

So he willed his tail into being, a prehensile extension of himself that moved to wrap around the mans other leg. It was by no means strong enough to hold him in place, but maybe it would be enough to knock him off balance. In a bout of rage fueled by his desire to just get this right, he forced the energy within him outwards. The scales around his wings glowing a violently and brilliant green. That was when they disappeared, forming into ephemeral green energy and slipping into his back.

If breathing was the tell he just didn’t need to inhale. Just imagine it all over him, the scales forming over his arm and the claws in the other. Proverbial flint and tinder.  If he could pull the man off balance he would run the claws against his scales, creating a spark that would follow with a boom. If not, well he just looked like he was flailing his tail against him and made himself look even more foolish.

He wasn't sure what was going on, but he watched as his Father brought the battle to a stall. Rather than being disparaging, however he watched as he simply said a few words and then Jordan's wings vanished. Suddenly the tail shot out from his friend, the alteration in physiology was rather grotesque, reminding Jordan as to why he never changed himself where he could see himself. It was painful to watch, let alone experience.

His father watched as the tail wrapped up his leg, a prehensile pulling motion as he cocked an eyebrow. Losing the wings as stabilizers he pressed on his foot, then pushed up. Someone might be able to get away from this, but that wasn't the purpose of this. It wasn't a battle for supremacy, it was a battle of understanding. His friend understood the assignment, and he was creative with how he'd use his own abilities. Jordan watched as he allowed the tail to pull him back, as claws and scales snapped making himself a potent bomb, one that dear old dad was just pulled into.

When the smoke cleared, it would be the self-ignited Jordan still standing in a small area full of smoke and haze. The observing member stood up and let out a small cheer.

"Whoo! 'MERICA!" He shouted.

The explosion went off without a hitch.

How did that work? Something told him the guy let it happen, that was the only explanation that made sense to him. As the explosion went off, far stronger than the one before he felt the room itself shake from the shock wave. It made his ears ring even, though he wasn’t to worried about his clothes being ruined this time.  Whatever other Jordan did seem to make that not happen, which was a big bonus in his opinion. Maybe he’d have to learn whatever magic did that. If he could even do so.

He turned to Jordan who gave a cheer, and gave him a small thumbs up. ”Okay, that went...better than I thought,” He said to himself, rising to his feet and rubbing the back of his head. He wouldn’t admit the bruise to his ego, because that would be admitting. Admitting to what? Well, even he didn’t really know but he knew getting sour over that would just ruin his whole day. He made a new friend afterall, this wasn’t going to ruin that high. Especially not here and now.

”Think I’ll leave the part where I got my kicked out of whatever story I tell about training to master my breath weapon,” He added still with a playful smile, not sounding in the least bothered by the concept. Nothing was at stake afterall. Well, there was getting punched through like nothing but that wasn’t a big deal.  ”Gotta admit, you’re pretty strong. Don’t think I got manhandled that hard before...well except that one time.  Two times in a week, gotta be a first for me I guess,” He shrugged, brows furrowed as if he had suddenly lapsed into thought before just shaking it off. "Didn't really learn how to use my breath but I did learn how to blow myself up more. Mission Accomplished?"

"Your breath weapon IS blowing things up." He said as he brushed himself off. Parts of his body were exposed, the shirt he was wearing was singing off as he batted at the small fire that was still lit. He let out a sigh and looked to Jordan. "Nice use of the tail." He said with a smirk as he waved his son to come back over.

"Once you've mastered perspiration, you can start to channel your mana into your throat. Your mouth has mucosa, channel it there. Your tongue and the soft tissue. Use the mana to pool the substance there. I'm sure you'll figure out what to do." He explained. While he had thoroughly enjoyed this, he couldn't help the small part of him that was agitated. He was a battler to be sure, he adapted and overcame almost instantly. The second that you remove combat from the equation he was...well...Jordan.

"So uh...did he pass?" Jordan asked, looking to his father, an arm slung around his friend. His father just looked to him confused.

"Well? Did you?" He asked the other Jordan with a smile. Self-assessment was a key factor to improvement, and something told him that Pat would have liked this guy. He was essentially an anime protagonist; the thought brought his mind back to the tragedy at hand.

"Okay? Cryptic dad, no reason for it. Did you pass then?" He said under his breath, then looking to the other Jordan quizzically.

”I know.” Jordan said with a nod, though he might have wanted to blow himself up less. ”That gut punch didn’t feel too good. Didn’t think you’d go around literally penetrating me,” He grumbled, rubbing his stomach as if remembering the punch that just ran him through.  How strong was he anyway? Jordan wanted to ask that question but he didn’t, instead just hmming to himself.

”Channel mana into my throat? I can do that, just like when I did magic training when I was little,” he put that into a folder into his mind,  something to do for later.  This was also an enlightening experience. He had a lot to improve, which meant at the very least he wasn’t lacking in ways to build. That just sounded fun in his mind.

Other Jordan asked if he passed, and he considered the man who just turned the question back to him. ”I guess I did. Well, I think I did. Looked like I was going through one of those thinking out of the box tests. So yeah, I passed...that test. Also passed out, for like a second, really lame and wouldn’t recommend.” He nodded, proud of his small achievement.  ”Any other tests? Not that I’m complaining, pretty sure the stepping on me was pretty nice just not the rest of it,”

"Again, I apologize. You're not going to find a lot of dragons that can do that. You're more than capable of holding your own. Just master that breath." He said, earning a shake from his friend. His father walked away slightly and began going through chests and chests of items, finally pulling out an old shirt, one that looked popular many years ago. A grumble under his breath as he cursed it and tossed it aside before pulling out a sleeveless vest. It wasn't what he wanted but it would do to cover up those missing and singed pieces of his clothes.

 "Well good job! So uhm, when are we expecting everyone?" Jordan asked, looking to his father. His father looked down at his watch, realizing it was singed he pulled it off and tossed it aside.

 "About forty-five minutes or so. Go get dressed, something more formal and tell the people to bring together some of the crown crest flowers." He said as he cleared his throat. Jordan didn't seem to think anything of this. He released the other Jordan and started to instruct him to come along, though his father spoke up. "I need to chat with him for a moment. One more test or two. He'll be behind soon." He said, Jordan looked at him puzzled before looking at the other Jordan, then back to his dad. His dad gave a small gesture with the hand, causing the mounting anxiety to dissipate. That gesture was the "curiosity gesture".

 "Righty. Okay, see you soon then. Sorry..." He said the last part, sad that his friend had to be put through an inquisition by his own father. As Jordan left the main chamber, his father walked over from a table with a jug he pried from a mound of gold.

 Removing the top piece, he began to pour, then leaving the second cup across the table as he sat down. He motioned for Jordan to come and sit down. He leaned back and took a sip after taking the moment to smell the Seal.

  "I've done you a service, believe it or not. I would ask that you do me a service in kind..." He said with a smile, taking another gulp of the alcohol before setting the glass down. "I need you to tell me what happened in London. Every last detail you can recall. I need the truth, please."

”That’s good to hear. Don’t know how I’d cope if I found out all dragons were even half as strong as you,” He said with a certain level of pleasure with that small fact. If all dragons were that strong, what did that say about him as far as dragons were concerned?  He didn’t want to think on that so he let his mind drift to something else, just following the dragon king as he replaced his shirt and Jordan asked if everyone would be here.

Now that was a curious question. Who was everyone? ”Something big happening?” he questioned while Jordan walked away, to dress more formally if his father were to be believed. With the other Jordan gone, that left him and Matt alone, his eyes trained on the man as he poured a drink. Well, drinks were involved so this would be interesting if nothing else.

He scented the air and smiled. ”Man of culture I see,” Sitting down he grabbed a cup and drinking at it, already feeling the sweet burn that came with it.  He loved this stuff when he could get some. While they drank, Matt got into something about doing him a service and wanting something in return. Did he? Well, if he did then it was only right to return the favor.

”I can do that.” He took another drink from his cup and set it down, licking his lips. ”I arrived with Deimos, flew on his back and landed. Started fighting some weird demons that crawled from these huge dimensional holes in the city. ” He thought hard about the rest, thinking for a few seconds before he could speak.

”Then a guy surrounded by gold fire appeared, started fighting and then this guy in black armor came. Called himself Erebus, was serving some kind of evil and began fighting this Ascendant guy. I tried to help but all he had to do was kick me in the stomach, shut off my powers real quick. From there those two fought while Deimos got attacked by a weird crazy mage. That Erebus guy released some weird black water that began to flood the city, so the angel guy like flew into the atmosphere and exploded everything. It was pretty crazy.”

It was hard even for himself to believe things like that happened. ”Erebus threw Deimos into the black stuff, fought Ascendant a little more and then did an attack that looked like it was going to destroy the city. So angel guy did like a big self sacrifice thing, but then he just did a second attack. That was when Deimos appeared out of  nowhere, but all cosmically empowered, scared away the Erebus guy and we flew off after that. He also reconstructed the city I guess, apparently cast some kind of spell to bring people back to life. News says it was mostly kids but not sure about that. I do know there was a weird kid with like purple eyes who saved me when I got dropped into space. Angels are the worst honestly,” He took a breath, realizing he had just been talking without really breathing for a good span of time.

”Oh yeah, that Ascendant guy just flew me into space and left me there, dick move. Anyway, need to know anymore?”

He listened to the description of the events a s he poured himself s second bit, then offering to top off Jordan's cup. He would respect either wish and lean back, letting himself understand the story. It was quite the tale, if he hadn't been to London already to notice the vacancy, he'd have not come to believe it easily. The part about a battle from an angel type of person. Their sacrifice would be the one that was vilified throughout the lands, the deeds of this Erebus being taken over by a pious man with a poor occupational choice.

"Absolutely fascinating. And you've been in close proximity to this Erebus?" He asked, looking him over with a smile. Reaching over across the way he took from a large stand a recording tape and rewound it, preparing to record it. "This is for me. Memory isn't what it used to be. I need you to describe these individuals as best you can for me. We'll start with Erebus. the Purple-eyed one we'll call him... Eros. Sticking with the theme. I'd be the one who owes you greatly, should the descriptions help me."

An eye witness was better than nothing. He smiled at Jordan and listened for the explanations and the descriptions. He didn't want to jump to the idea that Silus appeared from outer space and decided to save a guy, but it's something he would do. Purple eyes was the key marker there, very few people have those colored eyes. Even less of them had an y heroic inclination at all. He took another sip of his seal.

If Silus was it though, who was he saving people from? Why didn't he save everyone? He had the ability, didn't he? He hated to admit he enjoyed Jordan's story-telling abilities. He just hoped that the recollection of detail was equally as good.

”For a few seconds yeah. I tried to fight him, but he beat me pretty quickly, like you did actually,” He explained, thinking back to the day and the sheer anger he felt over the whole ordeal. What else was he supposed to feel, right? It was almost enough to just make him furious but for now he had enough booze to make the anger within him subside. Conversation with an interesting person, now that was something that could put him at ease, especially if they were bringing some good booze to the table too.

”Eros was like...this tall, had sorta like sandy colored hair, purple eyes with what I think was a ring of rainbow color around it. Worry a really loose hoodie, looked to be around like twelve and pretty sure he did something that was like...stopping time I think,” He paused, thinking if there was anything else he should mention. ”Seemed pretty disappointed with the angel guy, though I’m pretty grateful since he saved me from maybe dying in space,” Was there anything else?

”As for Erebus, well he was wearing this black jagged armor, really metal looking.  Really arrogant sounding, went out of his way to mock this Ascendant guy. Including trying to destroy a city I guess, though he said something about killing all the witnesses. Don’t know what that was all about,” His brows furrowed, mind thinking over everything he had witnessed. ”Used a weird energy. Black but it seemed to have some kind of bloody red outline, didn’t know what that was about either. Basically explains my experience with that guy. Obscenely powerful, could bypass by aura too. ”

Another cup down, he could feel his mind growing foggy. ”I know the purple eyed kid said something about this world going through some kind of trial. Don’t know what he meant, but maybe the Erebus guy is a part of it?”

"Well that would seem to be the case. Jagged armor. That's an unfortunate piece, however wherever one is involved, the other often times is there too. I just wonder..." He said as he reached over, recalling his god son and the rainbow aura he had once seen. But it was different than normal. He closed his eyes and tried to make the most of his ideas, committing them to memory as he clicked the recorder, making sure to take it and push it into his pocket.

He smiled and nodded to Jordan with thanks before taking another large swig from the cup, then setting it down and leaning back. He put his arms behind his head and seemed to relax a bit. He let out a small noise as he shifted, trying to get himself comfortable.

"Well...thank you. I suppose I owe you one now." He said with a smile and a nod. "Just don't explode again." He said with a slight smirk, teasing Jordan as he would find himself taking one final swig of the seal.

Did he help? Jordan wondered that as the man spoke to himself and thanked him for the help. Even still, he was pleased that he had helped. ”Guess you do.” He nodded, thinking over what a dragon king could  give him. There were few things he could think about, so he was going to be simple. ”How bout this? I don’t really like feeling like someone owes me, so how about you have dinner with me? No expectations just hang out.  I make a pretty mean carbonara,” He grinned, hoping he was as charming as he thought he was.

He leaned back, drinking deeply from his cup. ”So, earlier seemed like there was something important going on. Want me to...like be gone so you can do something with that?” He questioned, arcing a brow. Why did he ask that? There was something important about it all, that much his gut told him that was the case and he acted upon the impulse. Why was he concerned? His parents always told him he was a kind person, though he wondered if that was the case. Well they wouldn’t lie to him, their words were always things that pushed him forward to be a better person.

”I mean I probably can’t swim back up but I can think of something,”

He listened as Jordan gave a rather innocent and naïve way of looking at what IOU's and debts had on him. The effect of not liking it was almost hilarious all things considered. He actually rolled his eyes at one point, but couldn't stop smiling. This guy had a lot to learn about the world, let alone dragons. But hopefully he'd endure.

 "Well, that's mighty kind of you, but I insist. That's my number." He said as he slid a piece of parchment over the table. He stood up and started to take the vest off, walking away slightly, over towards a specific ornate dresser. He quickly opened the top drawer and pulled out a rather strange blue leather coat with an eyepatch. He took his glasses off and set them on the top before pulling out a blue scaled plate, ones that pulsed with an intense surge of mana. Black pants and a strange blue haori accompanied it.

 "You don't have to leave. I'm going to get changed and, well Jordan might want to have a friend here. I didn't tell him yet but, well." He said as he sighed. He undid his belt and threw his button on, quickly buttoning them up as he kicked his pants, stepping behind the dresser slightly to preserve some kind of modesty.

 "I went to London to check on the area. See if one of my children or their mother had been okay. They were not. For some reason he was not granted the gift of life the other children had been. Jordan was particularly close with him. I've called everyone here for a funeral." He said. It was at this point that he realized he had stepped behind the dresser. He looked down at his pants on the ground, then to the dresser, then off to the side and then finally looked at the half-dragon, with eyes widening for a moment. Then a small smile seemed to threaten to creep up. He cleared his throat and began to put on the black armored pants.

 "You're an interesting one..." He said, as if he had finally seen through the creature he was looking at. He just smiled as he then proceeded to fasten on the breastplate, donned the haori and finished it off by putting on the eyepatch.

  It was around this time that Jordan returned, a small following of people walking the other way. Jordan stopped and looked at his father for a moment, then to the other Jordan. Jordan himself was dressed in what one might considered to be a medieval looking armor, made from deep navy scales and platinum outline. The headpiece he wore was similarly to a circlet, though with large fin-like dragon ears sprawling out.

 "Wait...why are you dressed like Ya-oh..." He said as he realized there was only one reason his father ever dressed like that. Jordan's face ran pale as he looked over to his father and realizing what they had brought back from London. His knees started to give out, but for some reason they wouldn't budge, as if stuck and held aloft by some kind of unseen force.

  "I will permit your friend to join us, if it pleases the two of you. I will also excuse the two of you should you wish it. Either way...we have 15 minutes." He said as he placed a hand on both Jordan's shoulders. It was actually comical to see the smaller, yet somehow holder man reaching up to the two giants. He quickly made his exit, heading towards the other room, leaving Jordan to look at his friend with a mixture of confusion and apathy.

The man slid a piece of paper to him, his eyes fixating on the number scrawled there. Okay, so he still had it. Not that Jordan worried he ever lost it, but it seemed he was fine despite the rather heinous trouncing he suffered not only moments ago. ”I’ll be sure to remember it,” He said with a nod, making a mental note to copy it down in his phone so he didn’t actually forget it.

He mentioned something about not wanting to tell Jordan something, which confused him. It had to be something important if he would want someone around, though he didn’t know what that was.  His mind was working through what it could be. The answer came quick enough, in the form of...a funeral. He found his mind blanking out, unable to think of something for a second.

”Oh no….i’m sorry,” It was the most cliché thing to say when someone died but it was all his pea brain could put together. Brain cells barely rubbing together until something was said. His smile shifted more into a frown, his heart feeling heavy just from the concept of a dead child. He didn’t know them for certain but he felt bad about it anyway, because it was his friends brother.  How would he feel?

There was no way to say for certain but he could only feel sorrow for the dragon.  He didn’t know why but he wanted to be there for him, despite them barely knowing each other he wanted to be there. It just made sense really.  Without thinking he just wrapped the other, slightly taller Jordan into a hug. The armor felt a little uncomfortable but he barely noticed it. It just seemed right. It had been done for him when he the attack happened on his family, the fires always fresh within his mind.  The hug lasted until the other half dragon pulled away.

”I think...I might be under dressed,” He smiled weakly, looking down at his much more casual outfit and the back up to Jordan.

He was grateful that he didn't fall down, or at least that the initial shock wore off. His legs finally began to work under his direct command again, experimentally. It was as if he was being forced to "promise" he wouldn't fall, like how a child is forced to promise a parent that they won't eat the pennies that they keep grabbing for on the table. He felt the slight squeeze that came from someone, and he couldn't help but move his arms a little to reciprocate the action.

A wave of grief washes over him, and despite how he wanted to yell, scream and start thrashing about, it seemed impossible. His mind was tearing itself apart as part of him just wanted to blindly lash out, but something contained him, confined him. He had to settle for this, it was the closest thing he could do. Faint markings could be seen, like waves this strange, faintly flowing blue light began to glow right under his skin, the patterns indiscernible from beneath the armor, but still crawling up his neck and flowing over, just underneath his eyes.

"Uhm...ho-how long can you uh. ahem. How long can you keep a green construct? You could make armor, couldn't you? We have some spare stuff around here but...it's mostly just fancy clothes." He said as he literally picked his friend up and turned around, walking with him in order to set him down next to the one dresser just past his dad's. After setting his friend down, he opened a few of the drawers and started to rummage around for green-thematic clothing. He was sure that he'd be able to find something.

"When you find one of these or...whatever just let me know." He said, he sounded like he was trying to be upbeat, but he was still partially apathetic as he would occasionally sniff the air.

Grief. It was something that he only knew a little about but he knew enough to understand this was something that would hurt.  He knew if any of his siblings had died, he would be sad. Broken even. At least that was what he thought, but he didn’t know if that were true. Eventually the hug broke, Jordan asking how long he could keep an armor construct going.

”Good question. A few hours probably, that’s my record before my mind wandered and they...faded by themselves,” He explained, wondering if he would need them for longer.  He blinked when he realized he was lifted up, and put in front of a dresser. He blinked, stepping up and looking through the clothes which were arrayed before him. Finally he picked out what looked like some kind of green suit, he liked the look of it and it mostly was his size.

So he removed it from the dresser and quickly changed into it. They felt a little loose in some places, nothing wrong really. He thought he looked pretty good. ”What do you think? I kinda like the vest thing.” He blinked vaguely gesturing at himself, smile notably weak too. It was pretty hard to even hold levity at this point. ”Think this will work or should I do some armor too?” He questioned  considering other Jordan, he was the expert afterall.

Jordan managed to lay enough stuff out for his friend to consider. There were many different vestments from all sorts of periods in time. The Cloth and fabrics were preserved rather beautifully, cared and tended for just as one might suggest. There was an art to hoarding, or so his father had taught him. He even published a book about it, The Art of Hoard.

It taught people to how to properly hoard things like a dragon. It involved curating, caring for and properly being a custodian over the items you gathered, and not simply being a gluttonous or greedy Meiser that simply wanted what others had. It taught the reader to identify the three types of dragons as well as the many methods of how to hoard, and how it is not just a compulsion for a dragon, but a responsibility. He forced Jordan to read it. Many times. He snapped from the trance of thought as the other Jordan had changed his clothes.

"Uhm. You can put armor on around the outsides if you want? Dad wore a formal Romanian white button down with the frilled collar thing under his armor. Don't need to though. You look good." Jordan said as he tried to remember the formal dress that his father had put on. He had been forced to know etiquette since the beginning, from his Draconic to his proper dress and the way to hoard. But when it came to being a person? How to think? It was a bit different.

Regardless of what his friend decided, he'd be escorted and walked to the main chamber, taking that old path that he wished to avoid. This was a small city that lived within the waters, the runic markings and primordial runes carved into the wall suddenly caught his eye. At one point it felt like stepping into a dense air, almost thick enough to swim, before traversing into a beautiful area. The grass was purple and green, the plants had red and violets while stems and leaves were blue up across dark trunks of trees. The morphology of the Landscape was akin to that of a large coastal village that sat just by dense woods.

The cave around them turned into a village, small houses made and carved of alabaster and sandstone all set up into small, beautiful cottages, large pods of carved gemstones sat in the water, as even the water itself had a beautiful magical glow to it. The soft blue met with a heavenly yellow on the edges as it collided with the sand, and many of the robed cultists were lined up in their myriad of colored outfits, kneeling atop the water, hundreds, no thousands upon thousands kneeling with their heads down, candles as they seemed to remain buoyant on the water, forming a pathway of water into what appeared to be the night sky.

On the shore itself there had been quite a number of people. Each of them dressed in what could only be described as draconian armor, scales and differing markers of natural armoring crafted and tailored to each individual, the vast majority of them wearing armor of blue, or formal wear of black with an occasional color the contrasted. They all seemed to flank around his father in a semicircle. His father stood at the head of a boat, arms crossed in front of him.

The boat itself appeared to be half-lodged in the sand, mounted and fused into the earth itself. Dark wood contrasted against the beautiful dark blue and purple cloths that draped, like tapestries over the sides. There was no mast to the ship, instead there was a bed of beautiful flowers which seemed to bloom all over. Their petals had many variations, some looking like rose petals, others having rounded elongated daisy petals. They all seemed to be quite fragile, however as even a breath would cause them to drift away. The beautiful soft lavender colors seemed to almost turn silver and gold with the light of the water and moon. At the back part of the small ship was a younger body, dressed in red with red scaled armor and a golden headband over his head. A staff made of red wood was placed from his feet up over his chest, and his arms were folded so that his hands rested on his stomach.

He said nothing as he looked over to the box. His father took notice of them, then nodded. Jordan stepped forward, as did a small boy no older than 12 walked over. He seemed to reach out hesitantly before closing his eyes and seeming to calm himself. The small electrical tremors from his hand stopping as he reached up and placed a hand on the hands of his fallen sibling, which laid crossed on his abdomen. Jordan reached down and did the same, eyes watered as he whispered word ever so quietly, then pricked his own forearm with his clawed gauntlet. Using the blood, he traced something on the fallen boy's hand.

Two at a time, the children walked forward, all of them seemed genuinely saddened, sorrowful as they did their duty to come up and make one final contact with the deceased. There were others there, not children whom stayed at the side, there simply to offer support and presence in a hard time. There was one person of note, a gentleman around Jordan's age that was dressed in white with green scaled armor and yellow eyes, his ethnicity appeared to be more eastern, though he walked up and smiled at the body, whispering a quick prayer and leaving a flower and an emerald within the boat, a beautiful contrast to the lavender colored magical flower that seemed to surround and adorn the boat. There was one dressed in black whose eyes burned like stars, leaving an afterimage of many colors as he walked, like the trail of arcane power. He too would cut himself and begin to draw a marking over the boy's other hand.

The entire family would do this until the last two came up. A bulky man that seemed to wear an impressive armor with snake-like eyes of pink which settled on the child. He closed his eyes and slashed his cheek, leaving behind a green glowing scar as he dropped the purple blood onto the boy's body and quickly tracing another marking upon his forearm. The mark instantly healed, burning away with green light, though leaving behind a scar. He turned and began to walk towards the shore, then standing with his head lowered and awaiting the remainder of the ceremony. The other one was a small young man, around the same age as the deceased, he had a mess of black hair and green eyes, a look of pain and yet somehow a look of relief. He lurched forward into the boat and wrapped his arms around the body, the first one to break out and sob. Jordan forced his eyes closed.

It took a second before others stepped in, though his father would walk forward and seem to gently pull the young man off the boat, turning him around and wrapping an arm around him.

"He's gone, Lucaerys." He said, his own eye watering, though the other one concealed behind the patch. As he squeezed the boy he then released him, allowing one of his siblings, a woman to pull him aside and console him. The Dragon king walked up to the boy and stayed there for a moment, looking down over the corpse of the child. Reaching up he pulled out a small blade and sliced across the bottom of his palm and wrote a symbol over the boy's heart. He then leaned down and whispered. "The Omniverse is not powerful enough to hide him from me...I will come for you soon." He then lowered his head and kissed the boy's forehead before stepping back.

The siblings then all stepped forward and took the finely crafted dark wooden boat and began to push it, as their father and the family friends were left behind to watch the sight. As they pushed the heavy boat they brought it to the shore's edge.

"Jörmungandr!" His father shouted, the man waiting at the shore looked up at their father. "Thou art charged to return thy kin from whence we Origo. The place that all shall make home. Verily thou art the flame which guides thine own blood home. Get thee gone, with haste that thy kin shall meet us again. In this life, or the next." His comment was received with everyone looking to the shore.

The man, Jörmungandr seemed to bow before beginning to wrap himself in a set of ropes. There were many more ropes, much larger ropes that were left lying around, but without any issue at all the lone man walked, dragging the large ship behind him. As Jörmungandr stepped into the water his skin turned ashen and grey scales began to appear and he began to bulge. As he took another step he fell, suddenly as if miraculously falling through the earth itself, only for the ropes to all tighten. The Ship itself followed the line, the cultists watching on their knees.

As the ship passed, the cultists reached up with their cantles igniting the flowers and the banners to flame, the fire chased up and caught immediately, until the ship had made it the full way down the line, every cultist throughout the line having been passed. The movement what was revealed to be a large ship, was enough to cause the petals from the different plants to break apart scattering like a beautiful rain. Though at one point the water seemed to stop, and then, a gargantuan head could be seen, almost inconceivable in size a serpent-like creature with chains wrapped around it moved forward, as if swimming throughout space itself. The sheer distance it was away looked akin to the 80ft dragon form Jordan had, though the distance was so far off that the boat was only a small ember in the perception. The flowers could still be seen, though as they burned they released a mist as the small particles then broke apart in brilliant golden light and began to swirl and mist within the sky, spreading out and lingering there.

Jordan watched as the cosmos received the immolated plant and his brother's body, intertwined as new and beautiful stars were born, sitting upon the great expanse of the empty as he was slowly taken back, form where all creation had come.

The Cultists left the shore first, the dark blue ones, the green ones and many others. The only ones that remained were the ones with the stale maroon robes, whom stayed and mourned the loss of their chosen patron. The children would remain, they would all look at each other, but never uttered more than a word. Jordan hugged his friend, rubbed his back a bit and then made his way over to his siblings. Even though they teased him, even though many of them thought they hated him, they all took to each other. Not a single soul uttered a single noise while their father was there.

"Thank you. You'll never know what this means to him." His father said as he walked past Jordan with a nod, excusing himself to return back to the throne room. The second his father was gone, Jordan let out a squeak as his siblings looked to him, patting him on the back, others finally let out their contained sorrow, and others simply sat in the sand, watching their brother's voyage until they could see him no longer.

A funeral was never a fun time...