Chapter 06 - Between scales and prophecies

Daylight filtered through the high corridors of the Academy of Othea, gilding the stone walls. The place was teeming with new demigods exploring the courtyards and corridors, laughing, exchanging greetings. Above them, a nimble shadow moved silently across the roofs and columns.

A small dragon of golden hair and greenish eyes moved forward with dexterity, avoiding being seen. His claws clung to the edges of the structures; the wings flapped softly, just enough to propel him. He had to be quick. Could not be seen in that form.

Not again.

Who was that guy anyway? For a brief moment he was able to see the face hidden under that hood, and the sensation that rose up his spine caused him an unequaled strangeness.

The smell he felt coming from him was not an aroma to which he was accustomed. I mean, demigods in general had a similar smell — somewhat as despicable. Only that boy... the one hiding in that hood... had a sweet smell of lavender.

And those eyes... As far as he knew, the only person who had purple eyes...

Shaking his head, the dragon drove away the intrusive thoughts. He needed to get back into his room without being seen. That was more important than thinking of that ungrateful.

From early on the gym was unbearably full with the arrival of the newbies. For the little dragon, it was almost impossible to cross the campus unnoticed — even more trying to get back to his own room. To make matters worse, Melli was giving him many small missions, which forced him to sneak out and enter the academy.

Damn... why did things seem so strange lately?

Hidden among the bushes, the dragon watched in silence. There was a gazebo in the garden, made of wood, covered by branches with green leaves and white flowers. He crawled up there and jumped towards the lower branches. He missed. He fell with a stuffy "ploft".

He hated it. That small body, that limitation. For someone who had already been feared on the battlefields, crawling around in the corners like a mouse was a humiliation.

He shook himself, wiping leaves and grass from the hair. He prepared to try again, but his wings curled up in the bushes.

"Grr!"

As he got rid of the plant trap, he heard voices in the gazebo. The smell of demigods caught his attention. Immobile, still lying on his stomach in the grass, he was petrified.

Don't be caught!

"I still don't understand why the Academy called these rookies. They didn't even go through the senior ceremony", said one, crossing his arms.

"Neither do I. It never happened before. But if it was a top-down decision, who are we to question?"

"Still... it's strange. They seem weak. Maybe most are just a Theiodesmos waiting for a master."

The dragon clenched his teeth. He wanted to pass, but how, with those two there? Still, he could not deny: all that was strange. Melli, one of the great gods, below only Ereghast, had made this decision suddenly.

Hidden behind a pillar, the dragon remembered the boy with the purple eyes.

Those eyes...

"Qick!" he shook his head, trying to drive away the thought, and took flight by another way.

Staying awake dreaming in the form of a dragon was dangerous.

Taking advantage of the noise of the conversation, he tried again. He jumped, grabbed the branch, climbed quickly. Finally reached the top of the gazebo. He filled his chest with pride and flew in a burst, landing only on blind, dark spots.

Finally, he reached the window of his room. He landed gently on the stone floor. He shook himself, cleaning up the dust — and froze.

The figure of the goddess was impossible to ignore — imposing and ethereal, as if the night itself had taken shape. Her dark skin contrasted with the long wavy hair, which mixed shades of white and deep blue, falling in luminous cascades on her shoulders. A crown of black roses adorned her head, entwined with golden threads that glimmered like living constellations.

Yvaine was there.

Her eyes did not look human — they burned in intense amber, like shooting stars trapped in silent orbits. They shone with the same strength of truths that she carried, and were so intolerant to face for a long time. Her dark blue dress was studded with gold embroidery that moved subtly, as if responding to his divine presence, forming ever-changing constellations on his chest.

Looking at it, it was impossible to define whether Yvaine was there by choice or if she had simply manifested herself as a vision.

"I see that you have just returned from your mission" she said. The voice was low, almost a whisper, but firm. "Did you find something interesting in the gardens?"

The dragon didn't answer. In his form, he couldn't. He just stared at her.

That woman was a nuisance when she decided to "be nice". Still, he knew: Yvaine, the goddess of prophecies, was someone of unique presence. And completely antisocial.

She tilted her head slightly, as if reading something in his posture.

"I think I understand why you have not yet ascended the divine throne. Your body has not yet evolved into the true form of a dragon", she walked to the window, looking at the sky. "Your lineage is rare. Dragons that are reborn as humans have almost been extinct because of Nuria. But it still lacks something. And you know what is... Aries?"

The dragon's body stiffened. He hated it when Yvaine spoke like that — enigmatic, meddling. But never without reason.

"I saw" she said in a low tone. The dragon roared, but she continued: "A prophecy was delivered to me. This year, at the coming of age ceremony, something will change the course of the world. And not because of the gods... but for a demigod."

The dragon's pupils have contracted.

Yvaine smiled lightly.

"You feel it too, don't you? This year is different."

Without saying anything, the dragon slipped behind a screen in the corner of the room. The cold touch of the stone under his claws contrasted with the heat that began to emanate from his own chest. Felt the body pulsating, as if something in its essence was in constant dispute — what it was, against what the world now required it to be.

The transformation began with a discreet, almost melancholic glow, as if even his magic was tired. The claws retracted, the golden hair dissolved in the air like old dust. Bones stretched, muscles rearranged, until there remained a tall man with blonde hair wearing fatigue as armor.

He put on the robe in a hurry of those who want to cover more than the body — wanted to hide what had become.

As he returned to the front of Yvaine, his green eyes were tired but firm.

"Why did you come here? Your prophecies have nothing to do with me."

"Why do you always think that? Why do you always believe that you will not be involved?"

Aries walked to bed and sat down. The small wounds on his skin did not burn, but bothered.

"You always say that the end of the gods is near, but I am not the catalyst of it. I am faithful to my belief. I have no reason to start a rebellion."

"That's exactly why I always tell you that the blindfold will be removed" she said, more for herself. "You are not the catalyst, but you will be involved. Your destiny has changed... for twenty years."

Aries stared at her in silence.

Twenty years... He wandered these lands for almost fifty. Demigods lived in another time, different from humans. But even they did not reach the time of the higher gods — an existence that seemed to paralyze time itself. It had been twenty years since Yvaine said that his fate had changed and that the fall of the gods was imminent.

What was once empty was now an annoying mystery.

"Twenty years ago since my coming-of-age ceremony, where I never got a Theiodesmos" he raised his eyes. "I can only suspect that the reason you say my destiny changed twenty years ago is because I was bound to be someone's Theiodesmos. Am I right?"

Yvaine was silent. Her starry eyes assessed something invisible, as if she were deciding what she could or couldn't say. Aries waited.

"Yes" answered, finally.

"For you don't stop talking about it, and the fact that now point out that a demigod will be responsible for inciting a war against the gods... I can only imagine that my 'master' will be the one to do it."

"I said something would change. I never mentioned a war."

"I have served the gods since I was a pup. None of them would leave the throne without fighting. Every time a spear is raised against arrogance, a war begins."

Yvaine smiled sideways.

"You would make a great god of war, if you ascend."

She turned and walked to the door. Before leaving, she looked over her shoulder.

"Ereghast has chosen his heir. The battle for the throne has begun. The purple dawn will shine for a new tomorrow, hailed by time and stars."

The words hovered in the air after she left. Enigmatic as always.

Alone, Aries sighed, passing his hand through the blond hair.

He hated it when Yvaine spoke that way. He hated it because, deep down, she was always right.

His thoughts wandered. The recent memory of that person's purple gaze nor gardens returned to his mind. Those eyes... so different, so full of something that he could not define.

"A purple dawn... huh?"

He pushed the thought away with force.

It was just a coincidence. But the sense of inevitability did not leave him alone.