Kaerlorvek awoke slowly, the newborn dragon staring at the rocky outcrop whose outline vaguely resembled a dragon's.
A conflicted mixture of emotions ran through him; happiness to have talked to his surrogate daughter, a peculiar sense of awkward childish glee at having had his mother's attention, the forlorn sense of loss as her death continued to sink into his chest, and of course, his excitement and anticipation to talk to her again in a year's time.
Then there was his name... That had brought its own particular joy.
"Kaerlorvek..." he repeated the word, its syllables flowing naturally on his reptilian lips.
His head and wings lifted whilst his tail swished, his natural draconic pride slipping free while he wasn't paying attention.
It still felt awkward thinking of Oriana as his mother, but it was becoming easier the more he did so, and the more he acknowledged the wisdom behind the dragoness' words... A new life, new opportunities... Discovering everything he had missed in his first life because of the struggle against Manus...
He couldn't deny he hadn't poignantly wished for just that when the weight of his duty became too difficult to bear. Perhaps Oriana had noticed since she went to such great lengths to reincarnate him...
Kaerlorvek's tail swished again as he mused over her words further. She had wished he could have a peaceful life... One filled with joy that still existed on Pyren. It was the assumption beneath that statement that had gotten his tail going again.
If there was joy to be found in this world, however small, then that meant the sacrifices he and his friends had made a thousand years ago had not been in vain.
They might not have been able to save the world that was, but they had ensured there would be a world thereafter.
A world that he now had the privilege of exploring without the threat of an imminent apocalypse.
Which, speaking of...
Rumble.
His stomach had been awfully considerate all this time, allowing him the chance to get familiar with his new self, discover his old body, and even have the first of his annual conversations with his mother without making his hunger known.
But its patience was now at an end.
A good enough reason as any to leave his mother's lair and see the world his stubbornness had preserved.
The smooth stone and shallow incline of the cavern's entrance challenged his tentative understanding of quadruped locomotion a few times along the way, but proper use of his claws to fasten against the rock prevented him from falling anymore.
Progress, slow and steady progress, but progress.
A minute later, Kaerlorvek's uncertain steps neared the cave's mouth. The soft, golden rays of apparent dawn had dimmed to a subdued, mottled gray.
Had he guessed the wrong time of day? Perhaps he had hatched with the setting sun instead?
He reached the surface a few steps later and suddenly understood why the morning light looked so uncharacteristically dour.
An oppressive blanket of black clouds—thicker than any storm formation he had ever seen—dominated almost the entire sky. It was only near the horizon, as Elysium's lands curved away from the Heavens, that the true blue sky showed itself.
The contrast was so stark between the two that the dragonling couldn't help but think some mighty cosmic axe had sundered the very Heavens in twain into two distinct sides.
It had been brighter earlier because the rising sun was still underneath the rolling ceiling of clouds. Now that it had transgressed behind them, the world had darkened to match a perpetual early evening.
It was a wonder that any light reached Pyren at all.
Kaerlorvek's chest tightened. The dispiriting sight was bad enough on its own, but the realization that the low-hanging, foreboding squalls were but the by-product of Manus' Sin pressing down against Heaven's barrier made it even more soul-crushing.
How could anyone find joy in a world that hung so precariously, and so overtly, beneath such complete and utter annihilation? How could anyone live knowing that the only thing that had stopped the world from dying a thousand years ago was the tireless persistence of one man?
The glance downwards was in some ways better, in some ways worse.
The geography of Elysium was mostly the same as before, allowing him to recognize he was on Borea—the mountain that once served as the passage to and from Heaven for reincarnating Souls. It stood near the northern reaches of Elysium, giving him a good look at what state the last kingdom of Pyren was in.
The land was still alive. The forests were still there, and in fact larger than when he had last walked Creation. A river flowed from the mountain, carving a glistening blue band through the countryside before emptying into the western seas.
To the left and right, the edges of Elysium's ancient borders were in sight, lacking the golden barrier that had once protected the kingdom from the Demonic Wastes. No surprise, Manus' march upon Heaven had started with its shattering.
But, much to Kaerlorvek's surprise and joy, the scoured wastes had receded—life had reclaimed land lost to the Demons centuries before his first life was born.
Kaer mused with a delighted tail flick, perhaps he could explore those lands where no human had stepped since Manus' appearance?
Well, assuming no one beat him to the punch over the last thousand years.
Unfortunately, turning his attention back to the kingdom proper quickly banished his good mood. There, just barely in view from his current position, sat the throne-city of Aurelium. Although a barrier no longer divided Elysium from the rest of Pyren, one now stood around the half-collapsed ruins of the city.
Even through the gossamer wall, he could see whiffs of darkness which appeared to boil off from the ground and buildings, lifting into the air like columns of smoke until they ultimately dispersed from sight. It didn't look like Sin, but staring at the overshadowed sight of the once majestic capital still made him shiver with unease.
He diverted his attention away from the eyesore.
Besides the sealed capital, other scars from the war remained. Sporadic craters dotted the countryside, now overgrown and filled with water to form new lakes that had not been there before. Some of the distant mountains looked different; their peaks sheared down from where cataclysmic forces or powerful magic had broken them apart.
Kaerlorvek surveyed the landscape with his superior dragon eyes, looking for any signs of civilization... Only to find nothing. No new cities, not even a town, as far as his eyes could see.
He should have known better. He had gotten excited when his Mother had mentioned that there was still joy to be found in the world, expecting that to mean that people still lived.
But a thousand years was a long time, and with the cycle of reincarnation closed, no Souls could make their way to new births. Perhaps, if only a few hundred years had passed, the elf and dryad communities might still be around, but after a thousand, even the youngest of elves during the War in Heaven would have grown ancient and died.
Only the dragons might remain, and if Oriana's words of him being the first hatchling hatched in that time were true, only ancient wyrms at that.
He breathed a melancholic sigh—so this was what all the hardships, all the struggles had amounted to... A timeworn and stormy vista with no one but himself to enjoy it.
Well, he shouldn't be so pessimistic. He doubted Oriana would have brought him back just to live a lonely life. All he knew was that if people still lived, they did not do so in large cities—at least on this side of the kingdom.
Or so the dragonling hoped as he turned his attention to more pressing matters.
His stomach was still complaining. He needed to take care of that before his fledgling strength waned.
Fortunately, a mountain forest extended along the mountain's base.
Back in his time, the woods were replete with dryads, verdant game, and natural wonder thanks to their proximity to the Gods. He doubted its splendor matched that of the past, but if even a fraction of its bounty remained, it was certain to be filled with prey.
His mouth began to water as his rumbling belly summoned scraps of memories from his old life—smoked meat, fresh roasts, succulent pastries. Right now, even a simple charred fish or stewed rabbit seemed equal to the most savory dishes crafted by man's hand.
Kaerlorvek's body wiggled and his tail thrashed with excitement, while all four of his talons dug into the ground. His golden gaze observed the canopy for a moment, looking for the telltale movement of prey animals...
There! Just a couple of dozen yards away from him, a succulent-looking bird was fluttering from branch to branch!
The damn thing was out of reach unless he wished to put his claws to work and climb like a cat. But... he had the advantage of height with the rocky overhang in front of the cavern's entrance, and his wings seemed eager to be put to work.
He flicked out the 'second set of arms', stretching them until the small dragon could feel the breeze ripple underneath the thin-membranes between his 'fingers'. His keen eyes followed the bird's movements, waiting until it looked to be unaware of his presence, anticipation coiling within his limbs and within his belly...
Before, like springs squeezed to their limit, his muscles released all at once, throwing him into the air! His hind legs tucked in against his belly and his foreclaws stretched out, while his wings spread wide to catch the air and guide himself towards his meal!
...
The ground was approaching a lot faster than he expected it to—
CRACK.
THUD.