Storm front

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...

He could do that. Still Jordan was pretty pleased with how he looked, and he got the seal of approval from the other Jordan so that was all he needed. ”Thanks.” He said, not needing any other words and he was sure they didn’t have too much time. There was apparently some kind of funeral going on, something he didn’t expect he would understand.  Draconic funerals were likely something way different than the usual human funerals. Did they burn their dead or sink them into the ocean? They were ocean dragons, so it was likely not something along the lines of burying or burning them, so he was sure it would be informative. Sad but informative.

So he stuck with the green suit he was wearing, following Jordan once he was ready to go through with this. It was his brother afterall, he deserved to have the time to prepare for it. Even thinking about any of his siblings dying was enough to make him feel down, a sort of cold sensation within his chest. Maybe this was what people described as feeling empty when they lost someone. It was how he felt a little when his brother walked away, living a life both were sure their parents wouldn’t approve of. He had heard as much when Christmas came around and they invited him over for some kind of thing they called Yule.  Something about pleasing the fae residents that lived everywhere.

The two walked through a path that led into what could only be described as a village. Something he wasn’t sure could exist this far under the water and yet there it was. Could this have been done through a kind of draconic magic? He wondered that, though couldn’t tell for absolutely certain. Not like he would ask. Not when there was a funeral so close, instead keeping quiet and taking in all that was happening around him. Despite his stubborn, almost bullheaded demeanor he could be observant when the desire hit him. A kind of uncanny thing that occasionally really bothered those that thought they understood him.

Soon his eyes were met with thousands of people, in a rainbow of robes that were kneeling on a massive sandy shore. They had a beach down here? Silently he watched, eyes alight with an unspoken curiosity. A kneeling semi-circle that gravitated around something,  standing atop water that looked more like the night sky. Now that was different than what he was expecting. Matt stood in his ceremonial garments, before a massive boat of materials he couldn’t even begin to name. It looked strongly built, and his mind wandered to how long something like that would take to craft.  A winding path that really kept him from paying too much attention to the ceremony.

Two by two people were approaching the child and likely saying their last goodbyes. Speaking whatever they would want while those supporting them watched, helpless and supporting nonetheless. He felt that way. Did the kid die in London? Could he have done something about it, or was the kid another person that had to die in that needless tragedy? Thinking it over made his brain burn. A sort of hopeless despair that at times felt like it would wear away at him, yet did nothing more than wear. He would be fine. He always was. Jordan never broke, that was what made many around him rely on him. It would have been a curse if it didn’t help so many people that he cared about.

One of the children seemed bothered more than the others, throwing himself distraught on the body and needing to be lead away from it. I wonder how many people are mourning, just like this, He thought to himself, chewing on his lower lip until it began to feel sore.  Pain gave way to an easier emotion, which was anger. He knew who to blame for this but could do nothing about that person, all he could do was watch as he did what he wanted. Even his father seemed to share a word with the corpse, leaning down to kiss the forehead. Amidst the radiant sounds he couldn’t hear it, but he wondered what those words were.

A name was called and one tasked to perform his task, whatever that might entail. All he did was watch, first the man wrapped in massive ropes stepping into the water. One step and the earth seemed to swallow him whole, drawing a gasp from the earth dragon. Did he just disappear. Despite that the ropes seemed to be straining under some kind of weight. Without thinking he was about to step forward to do something when a massive serpent rose from the nothingness, pulling with the ropes that had been wrapped around it.  The rest watched  as it happened, and he took a few steps back to make sure he didn’t interrupt whatever this was.

As the ship sailed out and released the strange mist from it, it intertwined into many stars that sparkled within the cosmos.  His thoughts ran deep for a moment until the other Jordan hugged him, clapping his back and shaking him from the thoughts.  He returned the gesture until the man stepped away and went to meet with his siblings. This was their time afterall. As most of the robed people stepped away, he realized he was mostly standing alone, hands buried in his pockets now. When did they get there?

The dragon king would walk past him, offering a small thanks before either returning to his duties or giving into grieving.  He would leave the siblings to their shared sorrow,  picking a point on the beach and sitting down, crafting a small seat to avoid getting any sand on the clothes he had been lent.

”Wonder what I do now. Guess I’m more invested in this chase than before,” He muttered to himself, drawing small, random shapes in the sand with a construct meant to replicate a stick with many small bits branching off. Eventually this solitude would break, but for now he made a few scratching that only seemed to make sense to him.

Time would heal all wounds, but the wounds here tonight would take time. There was little more to be said or done. The Father of Levithan's returned to resting in his throne room, and many of the children took recess back through the strange doorway back to what one might assume was the mortal world. The cultists offered to entertain some of the children house them if they wished to stay. Some accepted graciously, others with a twinge of entitlement. Some refused because of their duties that they had elsewhere.  

  "Hey. Sorry." Jordan said as he came up, sitting next to his friend on the shoreline, his armor was removed and he rubbed his eyes. "Might have ended up a weird, sad day but...still glad I got to meetcha." He said as he let out a long, drawn out breath. He continually closed his eyes, trying to summon upon his regeneration to heal the bloodshot colors of his eyes, but alas there was no avail. Oh yeah, he used the primordial rune.

 "Well, thanks for staying... anyways." He said before he made a sudden realization, something he had once been taught, but long forgot. He turned to his friend, looking at the drawings in the sand. "So uh, you like to draw? What do you do? You don't wrestle my cousins all the time do you?" He asked, slowly trying to inquire more about this person. He didn't know much about Jordan, but he needed to try and take their attention away from everything. Him from his loss, and for his friend, who he just dragged into sitting through that long ordeal.

For stick scrawling in the dirt he was pretty pleased with the result. A strange, jagged armored figure being beat up by two people that were basically stick figures with some extra details. He liked the mental image more than the one he made, but this was his best sand scratching yet.  Eventually Jordan returned, offering an apology for leaving him but all he did was smile at the man. ”It’s fine. I could see what you needed to do was pretty important,” He knew it was. This was his brother, one he was close to and that meant he needed to be able to have whatever closure he could with...how many siblings did this guy have?

”Glad I met you too. Seems like I might have a lot more fun around you, hopefully it doesn’t have to be so sad for you. That can dampen the mood at times,” He amended,  finishing up what looked to be a complex battlefield/plan scratched into the dirt, alongside stick representations of people he had added to his epic fight against Erebus. ”I’m trying to learn. I promise, my art is way better than this, even if these will probably be the best stick figures you’ll ever see,” He have as close to a grin as he could, scratching the back of his head.

”Was trying to do the hero thing, though I guess you could call it vigilante work. I don’t try to wrestle your cousins, that one just had a weird magic around it and was gonna hit LA with basically a hurricane. Couldn’t have that happen.  Think for my jobs, I just work some kind of restaurant. One of my partners owns it and he’s all about shameless favoritism, and...i’m pretty good at cooking. Apparently I have a developed sense of taste,  helps with knowing what might taste good or whatever.” He paused, blinking a couple times. ”I’m bad at explaining those things. All I know is I cook good.” He scratched his nose and stood up.

”What do you do Jordan? I’m sure it’s pretty interesting,”

Vigilante work, stick figures in the sand and cooking. That's the bulk of what Jordan was hearing. He nodded as if understanding why his new friend would need a job at a restaurant if he had a partner that ran everything. He kept nodding as he tried to think of shameless favoritism, or rather what it might look like. Even when he misunderstood things it was painfully confusing.

"I uhm...I set the moon on fire once. Calculated the trajectory and material composition of the transport of oxygen up there. It was the exit coefficient that got me... Oh I like comics too. Hoarding. Spending time with...well family. But uh... Dad's like you. The Vigilante thing. I'm the youngest right now so, I can't do much but learn from my siblings." He said as he started to motion around at all the beings, even the ones clearly older than him. It was likely a confusing sentiment.

"My art isn't better than that. It's sort of basic but I should learn. Maybe I could get Loki to teach us." He said as if musing, his younger sibling from the other family coming to mind. There could be a fun thing to experience, art lessons with Loki. He smirked a little before looking to his new friend.

"You know what you should wrestle next? If you liked the Krakens you should wrestle a Terrasque."

Jordan was pretty sure he explained his situation pretty well.  Other Jordan didn’t really ask any questions, so he assumed all was understood.  Whatever he did, Jordan wasn’t really sure how to prepare for the concept of someone setting the moon on fire.  ”You set the moon on fire?” he questioned, the sound of stick scratching through the sand rising again. He formed a circle and what looked to be crude spikes like flames around it. It might have been confused for a sun if not for the conversation. ”Like this? Well, that explains the time the moon turned like blue or something,” he also listened to the fact his father was a vigilante, which the little display earlier was something that made it very obvious.  He was surprised he didn’t hear more about the guy. If he could do things like that, it meant it should have been more popular than that Atlas guy.

”Okay that kinda makes sense. Explains why he could manhandle me like that,” Thinking back on it made him grimace, if only because of remembering getting punched through. Luckily his clothes survived whatever that was.  ”Loki huh? You don’t pal around with a Norse god, right? Didn’t know he was known for good art,” He questioned, sounding more intrigued than anything else. The dragon seemed like someone who knew many interesting people, almost made his life seem normal all things considered.

”Didn’t know a tarrasque was an option. Not sure if I can take one but I’ll definitely try.” He agreed with a nod. ”Not sure I wanna hurt any of your cousins though,” He smirked,  seeming to now draw out a crude shape resembling a tarrasque.

"Loki is...unique. He's not the OG Loki, but he has ties to Yggdrasil, the omniverse and is tricksy in nature...But uhm. Yeah, no worries. He's the nicest guy I know." Jordan explained when there had been questions regarding if he was palling it up with a Norse god. Granted his half-brother was Jormangandr, and his friend didn't seem to notice that. It was a perplexing duality, but one that was actually rather amusing. It almost felt like it was okay to befriend the world devouring serpent but Loki himself was far too much to be friends with. That wasn't what was being said, but the idea made Jordan smirk a little bit.

 "I mean...if it's in good fun, and it doesn't kill them then it's fine. I'm not sure why the one that attacked you was so...crazy? It seemed like it had lost all reason. 'cuz like...Kraken will run. They don't have that "toxic pride" my dad talks about. If they feel threatened, they run. They'll let Dragon's keep their pride, they'll keep their lives. So...why?" He started to muse this. he'd need to ask some of his siblings if they'd ever come into this situation before. Granted most of his brothers were lacking in the aquatic department. Oddly enough, finding a pure water dragon out of Yamm's lineage was a rare occurrence.

  "OH! Hey! Boston! Lucaerys said that his home, Boston was turned into some strange fantasy place. Think they'll have a Terrasque there? We should totally go..." He said as he leaned back, posting his hands into the sand as he watched the ship becoming so small it faded from conceivable sight. He let out a small sigh as he felt his eyes begin to water again. But he wouldn't cry. He made a vow, one he would keep no matter what he had to sacrifice.

 "Let's go punch a Terrasque in the face and get us some gold. Just like Dragons should."

Not the OG Loki. Well that made a little sense but also made him wonder what kind of person this Loki was. He sounded nice enough but that was just what Jordan said, which sounded like truth enough so he didn’t feel like he needed to question it.  ”Nicest guy you know? Well that sounds pretty nice then, especially since you know me now,” He grinned, wondering how nice the guy thought he might be. Jordan liked to think he was nice, which was a sort of personal  perception on himself. ”Might have to introduce me to Loki sometime, sounds like it’d be pretty fun,” He noted, thinking back on his clash with the kraken not too long ago. How hard he fought through the depths of the ocean and how it required the other Jordan to really put it down.

”Well if its in good fun then that sounds fine. Don’t want to have to fight to the death again. That just sounds like a chore, especially if it’s in the water. I’m no good at underwater fighting honestly,” He explained, wondering if that was obvious from his previous showing. Now that Jordan felt bad about how he could fight, it was just one of those things that he knew about himself.  Stick drawing in the sand continued, mostly vague shapes that meant nothing beyond amusing himself. One of them was a cat and the other a poorly scrawled dog. ”I’m gonna totally deck a Tarrasque though. Not sure how much it’ll actually get hurt but I can definitely try.”

He looked proud of his own strength. Turning to the other dragon, he noted the faint change and just slung an arm over the guys shoulder. Giving a one armed hug that he hoped would help. ”Besides no Tarrasque can stand against us two Jordan’s right?” He grinned, hoping to add some levity to the situation. Afterall, seeing his friends sad just made him feel bad too.