Chapter 9

The Past of Ashovania

On the night of Drago's birth, his parents debated over whether to teach him what he really was. Viola had already been brainwashed.

"Self-medicating will lead to addiction and reliance. Both our bloodlines run deep in this direction."

"Yes, they must be protected, and only told of their species. They are wizards like us. But never to be taught."

"This is the best solution, for even you, at times, share in this weakness. Drago is more your apple than mine." said the mother.

In this flashback, the parents are embarking on an excursion to study a meteor that crashed two days ago. When they were a family, they dwelled in a peaceful village known as 'Silverbell'. And as a young child, Drago held a very close bond with his mother. A stern but loving woman. Their link fired up a short-lived jealousy with Viola in their childhood years. Drago, naturally, was attached to his mother's leg that day. Fearing she was dying from a nosebleed.

The father, a robust man, shoved all the heavy bags towards the front door, impatiently waiting to go. He didn't love the kids as much as he showed. Viola, being Daddy's little girl, always marveled at his brute strength. Combined with a sharp intellect, he displayed himself to her as the perfect specimen of a man. Each kid had their go-to parent.

"Drago let go of your mother's leg. For god's sake, she is alright and will return."

"Quiet you old boar. Our son is simply concerned," rebutted the mother as she knelt down to kiss Drago on the forehead.

"Don't leave me! I'll die if you leave me!" he yelled.

"I'll die too momma!" added Viola. Her heart turning green at that moment.

"Have we birthed dramatics or children? Your mother is fine, now move! We have to go, your keeper is waiting for you with food. Please children, we love you dearly, but the longer you hold us up..." exclaimed the father.

The mother checks her breathing, having lost more blood than she expected, and rubs the heads of her children.

"I should be thankful that these kids express themselves so. No worries dearies, I will return with gifts, and stories, and candy. All the things associated with Arcadia I shall return with me, to you. Ok. Now send mommy off."

"No!" begged Drago, still clutching her leg.

Viola grabbed her mother's hand and kissed it, making up for the kiss Drago received. In that moment she tossed her childhood to the side, realizing that she is not in control. Girls always mature faster.

"Go well and peaceful mother," she calmly stated.

"Leave her be Drago, let momma go. Come on, we'll go play in the guest room."

Drago unwillingly let go against his will. He hid his pain-filled face and fled to the back of the house. Where it was dark and matched his mood. Where he hid the small animals that he killed. The mother laid soft eyes on Viola and finally exited. The father lugged the heavy bags outside and hoisted them on the saddle that's placed on a dragon. Both parents hop on and fly off into the sky. Viola waves at them, watching the dragon get smaller and smaller as it left her field of vision and entered the cirrus clouds. Meanwhile, Drago convinced himself that he'd never see them again.

Ashovania was different in those days. The terrain wasn't as flat, nor did modern technological advances destroy much of the beautiful landscape. There was still grace and transcendence in the scenery and atmosphere. Lush, brightly green trees towering in the wilderness, with sparkling light blue water for animals to feed and bathe in. The planet was still mysterious, and uncharted.

During the rule of the Arcane militia, technology was in terms you can understand, still at "cave man" level. The true boom of the steam-power era began when the war took hold. Causing Alastair to compensate mechanically, catching the wave out of desperation.

A grand percentage of the population had truly believed in one great God of the Eternal, who created the universe only for them, closed-minded folks. Talks of aliens, or higher beings present on the planet were punishable by fire and ex-communication. Therefore, with rumors swirling, and talks of a meteor hitting the planet, everyone was on egg-shells. Among them was Drago, and Viola's father. He secretly believed it was something controlling us beyond our realm. He dare not have this opinion reach anyone though, not even his wife. He kept many things from her.

The site was closed off from the public with the gigantic granite-colored meteor sticking out the ground. A few tents were set up for the first responders, and by the time the parents arrived, three people had been killed. Apparently in the night by strange creatures with black scaly skin, and lavender eyes. They were short in size roughly about four feet, with stringy dark blue hair. Rumor has it that they tore open the first victim, and ate the other two. Inspecting what humans were made of, then indulging.

Military personnel under the command of the Arcane were present at all times. They worked tirelessly to make sure this 'situation' not reach the other regions and cause controversy. In the lowest ranked platoon, unbeknownst to anyone, lied the future King of Avalon. Before his glorious ascent to power he was merely a lookout.

Drago and Viola's parents arrived six hours later, and are greeted by Roman. The leader of the research team. An older man with wild gray hair that sticks up and huge bifocal glasses. He looks like the smart type. Especially since his spectacles magnified his pupils, making him look like a tarsier.

"Come, come. We're excited for your arrival. More eyes to scan the problem we have before ourselves this day. Massive problem indeed, wouldn't you say?"

"Great God of the Eternal, look at the size of it." remarked the mother, with a hint of sexual innuendo.

"They say meteor, but it looks like another planet."

"Well, whatever it may be, you'll be involved with the conversation that will once and for all place a title on this typhoon of a mystery. Truly gargantuan, I say, the first hour I observed it, my neck stiffened from looking upwards for so long. Then again my neck is elderly," jested Roman, awkwardly laughing at his own jokes. He didn't think it was particularly funny, he just wanted to keep rambling.