An Age of Mysterious Memories

F.F.S. For Frigg’s sakes. Alright, let’s walk through it again, step by step. Here’s your instant replay Reggie. Picture this: Al'pa'ca, the ancient, power-hungry sand dragon, reduced to a whimpering heap, and then-some. It's like watching a prideful king topple from his throne, only to find out the throne was made of cardboard all along. He's sprawled out, looking more pitiful than a kicked puppy. Al'pa'ca, this ancient sand dragon who's been a thorn in our sides for what feels like forever, is finally on his last legs, hell, past them, on his belly. But of course, he's got one last trick up his scaly sleeve.

So there he is, all battered and bruised, looking like he's about to keel over any second, right? Wrong. Al'pa'ca's transformation is something right out of a cosmic horror story, mixed with a fantasy epic's final boss scene. Just when we think we've got him finally downed, this ancient sand dragon decides to pull a "hold my beer" moment. The air around him crackles with an energy that's palpable, as if the very fabric of reality is buckling under his newfound power. This isn't just a dragon going all-out; it's like he's tapped into the core of Rayileklia itself, or at least the Worldstorm.

His form elongates, muscles bulging and reshaping into something more terrifying, more powerful. It's like watching a dragon from those old legends, the kind that could tear worlds apart just by flexing. His scales shimmer with a kaleidoscope of colors, each one glinting like a different gemstone under the sun. It's not just a display of power; it's an intimidation tactic. And grr, crap, I hate to admit it, but it's working a bit. Speaking of intimidating, his eyes are like twin lightning storms, crackling with raw, unbridled energy. They pierce through the dimness of the Keep like searchlights, illuminating our battered forms with a light that's utterly terrifying. It's like he's seeing right through us, into our very souls. I really hope not. I don't need another soul stealing jerkwad to deal with.

His wings, unfurled, are a spectacle of their own. Each membrane glows with an unnatural, maybe even a bit otherworldly, iridescence. It's like every color you can imagine, and some you can't, are dancing upon his wings. They flutter with a grace that belies their massive size, casting prismatic shadows that dance and twist around the chamber. And then there's the chromatic aura that surrounds him, a swirling vortex of magical energy that seems to be feeding him, making him stronger. I'm fairly sure he's drawing from the Keep itself, siphoning energy from the very stones and air. The lights dim around us as if the Keep itself is bowing to his will, acknowledging his reign. And honestly? It probably is. This is his seat of power after all.

This isn't just a dragon anymore. It's like he's become a living conduit for the storm-made-flesh, a vessel for all that ancient, primal power. Instead of wielding it like energy, like Te or I would, he’s turned it into friggin’ muscle mass and matter. And the worst part? He knows he has us cornered now. He knows just how outclassed we are, and he's reveling in it. The smirk on his snout says it all.

In my head, I'm screaming every PG-13 curse I know, because, let's face it, this is the kind of twist that you expect in a video game when the final boss suddenly gets a second health bar. It's not just unfair; it's like the universe itself decided to play a cruel joke on us. And as much as I want to throw my hands up and shout, "I didn't sign up for this!", there's a part of me that's just... dumbfounded. But, well, c'mon, you've at least gotta admit, it's pretty darn cool in a terrifying, we're-probably-going-to-die sort of way.

I'm not sure if he's doing it on purpose or not, but the very ground trembles under his weight, each step shaking the whole Keep like an earthquake. The one benefit to his new size is that it temporarily collapses a small section of the tunnels that his horde had made to get around my blockade. The air around him is charged with electricity, tiny arcs of lightning crackling along his scales. But it's like the lightning can't escape him. As if he's continually sucking up the storm energy in the keep to build that mass of muscle he must call his new body. It's a sight that would send shivers down most anyone's spine. It's a lot to take in, and honestly, I'm not sure where to start. Huff.

Well, crap. We're screwed. I don't have anything left. There's a few tricks I've been saving, but nothing that would stand a chance against this. The Riptide katana? Pshaw, it'd be like throwing a water balloon at a brick wall, expecting the thing to tumble. My lightning lycanthrope form? Ha, he'd probably just absorb it, and use the extra juice to fuel his next strike. Even my Honoris Causa, while powerful, wouldn't do much against his form like this, even if it were off cooldown. I'm going to need to be wearing my QCR number four, just to make sure I don't get sucked up into his body and end up empowering him further.

Or am I? What would happen if I were to take my shot at taking him out from the inside, now? What if I waited til he absorbed me, and then swapped to my QCR number four? The lightning-cursed leg guards would draw all free elctricity around me, to me, and his body is somehow simultaneously physical matter, yet lightning as well. Would it sap his strength? Or would he just absorb me and the lightning curse, and be even stronger than before? It's a risk. A big one. But I can't see any other way we're going to win this.

Te and Lil are hammering on Al'pa'ca, even taking chunks out of him, but he hardly seems bothered. It's like he can administer a change in the phase state of the electro--. That son of a bleeping bleep. That's my wife's dragonforce and Latent you're messing around with pal! Oh I am going to friggin' end him. Or, well, I want to try to anyway.

It's like he's playing with Lil and Teuila, toying with them by accepting their attacks. He's not even trying to dodge. He's just standing there, letting them hit him, as if their attacks are doing nothing more than tickling him. His slow swipes as he gets used to his new mass, his new body, are easy for Lil and Te to dodge, for now. If he suddenly gets a bit quicker though? He's going to flatten one or both of my SAP. Come on Reggie. Time to lightning leap like you've never lightning leapt before.

Al’pa’ca attempts to shout something, likely intending to get us to cower in fear, but it only comes out as, “Oo sssou ehel eore ee.” Right, I’ll get right on that Alpackers. Right after lightning leaping my heart out, to try to take your heart out.

Oof. Oh yeah. I’m not that great at lightning leaping. Leave speed to the speedsters Reggie. I'm not sure which of us is surprised more, when I manage to land a hit on ol’ Packbutt, before being knocked flying back towards the wall. Well, I guess that was the second hit. The first one, was him trying to draw a breath to inhale and absorb me, and getting a full charge of my fully charged, charging lightning lycanthrope’s lightning form, straight into the back of his throat. Then I was knocked flying towards the wall. Again. Whatever. You get it, order of operations, suck, charge, smack. He's coughing and gagging, but the effect is minimal. Also, yes, I realize how redundant that earlier sentence was.

It's not enough to stop him, but it's something. Te and Lil have started working on a plan. They've figured out the trick to Al'pa'ca's newfound muscle mass. He's still a dragon, and still has the instincts of one. He's not used to his new form, and is a little sluggish. It's like he has a hard time processing his body, and where his limbs are. Hello. Proprioception is an interesting concept, is a thought I find myself having once again. Like the time I was racing towards the beach, hand in hand with Teuila, oh-so long ago.

He's lacking proprioception, his somatosensory cortex can't keep up with the expanded growth. He's got the strength of a titan, and the grace of a newborn foal. I'm not going to lie. It's funny as heck. Watching him lumber around the place, flinging himself around as if his limbs are made of lead, is hilarious. I mean, he's imposing as all get-out, and if he could manage to tap into any more SP, we'd probably be toast, but he's channeling all his energy into that new form, in order to keep us from finishing him off. He's not gonna be slinging any more meteors any time soon without that endless supply of SP. Well, that, and since he needs intricate dexterity in order to perform the somatic components of his mnemonic.

Huh. I guess I can just let Lil and Te handle it, like we originally planned. Glancing at them, they both flash me resolute nods, so I'll trust them to finish him off. My duty is still the horde, to make sure we don't get overrun. Especially when Lil and Te are closing in on death's door like they are. I can't risk that some other Sand might have an animate breath weapon attack that tries to strangle them, distracting them at an inopportune moment.

With my lightning form, I can still use my lightning breath, my poison breath, and my fire breath, and I'm going to need that to help thin out the herd. So, I'll focus on my job, and let my beloved and my best pal handle Al'pa'ca. Besides, if they can't get the job done, then there's not much else I can do anyway. Returning a silent nod, I slip away from them, and focus on the horde. There are a couple of mages back there trying to undo the wall, and it's taking everything I've got to keep them from breaking through.

As has been the case nearly the entire time, the air's filled with the scent of ozone, and the sound of thunder. My ears are ringing from the noise, and the world feels like it's vibrating around me. Which is to say basically nothing has changed, the entire time we've been in this battle. Heh. Huff. Reggie, shut up. Yeah yeah, I know. I'm crackin' up. It's been a stressful day, and it's not even over yet. We're far from guaranteed victory, let alone, guaranteed survival and escape. Still, I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders, despite the increasingly oppressive force directed my way.

If nothing else, Lil and Te should be able to finish Al'pa'ca, and hopefully, that'll mean he won't be able to do anything else to the Worldstorm, and Kinzul's dragonforce, or her Latent. Though, if I'm honest, Kinzul's Latent's the least of my worries at the moment. As much as I love Administrator, I'm sure she'll be fine, with this tiny spec of dragonforce stolen from her, and from her overall spell. She's a tough one. And she's got the best support anyone could ever ask for.

But still, the thought nags at me. This sort of abstract thinking of combining powers is my domain, and yet, there's something about it. It's something I can't quite put a finger on, that makes me uncomfortable. The focus. Focus Reggie, focus. No not that doofus. The elemental focus I had Nala craft. What about it? We get maybe two uses out of it, maybe. We need one to set up a new tether between Te and Lil to get out of here alive after Al'pa'ca is dead. But we need to survive til then. Needing to survive until then is important, with Te and Lil courting death at pretty much the next hit either of them takes.

Oh boy. I'm gonna do something stupid. Because Te and Lil still aren't really making any progress on Al'pa'ca, as I work against the horde, and the horde is starting to get harder to work against, as they basically snipe me from far up the tunnel, from behind the bodies of their fallen comrades. I can't risk Al'pa'ca getting used to his new form. Giving him enough time to do that could be quite disastrous. I know I said I'd trust Lil and Te, but that doesn't mean I can't give them a bit of help, while helping out myself with my own problem simultaneously.

Taking a moment, I switch to my QCR number four, and, with my eyes closed, I envision the elemental focus I had Nala craft. It's easy enough to dig out of my packs. My lightning cursed leg guards are surprisingly not strong enough to pull in any lightning right now. It's all going to Al'pa'ca, to keep up with his expanding growth. But, I'm not just relying on them. I've got my lightning lycanthrope powers, my lightning breath, my internal electrokinesis, my lightning spiritswarm, and my lightning empowered-rune knife.

Plus, I've got Whisper. If I fight with Whisper, one handed, it's actually far more effective than I realized it could be. I thought of the throwing knives slash daggers as only projectile weapons, but Whisper has foes grabbing their brains from the slightest knick. Anyway, point being, I can throw it, and, with a little finesse, or cheating with telekinesis, I can have it hit a target quite a ways away. And, since I allocated it to the elemental bandolier, once per day at said throw, I can bamf to that target.

The last piece of the puzzle, is Teuila with Mjolnir, and her own greater storm elemental conjuration. Deep breath Reggie. Call out to her, "Te! Remember the thing I told you not to use until I told you to use it? Now! After following me!"

Anyone else besides Teuila might question me, or not understand what I was referring to. But this is Te, My Wings, love of my life, a huge portion of my soul. My Wings glances at My Heart, checking that he'll be okay handling Al'pa'ca for a moment by himself, and the two nod at each other resolutely before Te leaps my way. We make eye contact, and I cast my glance towards Mjolnir, then tap my lightning empowered-rune knife while handing over Nala's elemental focus. While focusing my focus to transfer the lightning empowered-rune knife to her after handing her the focus—ugh, yes, I heard myself—we both whisper anti-lightning as we barrel through the enemies up the tunnel they'd carved.

So much needs to happen at once, and so much does happens at once, that it's like a friggin' slide show. Frame one. Te and me gearing up, aiming in the right direction, and getting the images in our heads, of our anti-lightning to keep ourselves from instantly getting crisped doing what we’re trying to do. Frame two, us rocketing into the tunnel together. Frame three, my spiritswarm and I have a conversation consisting of one word, "Pull."

Frame four, far up the tunnel, Teuila spawns her greater storm elemental while boosting it with the lightning elemental empowered-rune knife, and I hug the bugger as a lightning-breathing lightning-cat. Frame five, Teuila gets in position at the corner of the bend in the tunnel made by our foes while I make sure Whisper is levitating safely near the target I need it to hit. Frame six, we unleash our anti-lightning, and my Honoris Causa thankfully recovers enough to flicker into existence briefly, thanks to my spiritswarm's help.

Frame seven, huge masses of Al'pa'ca's extra flesh becomes a river of lightning more deadly than anything else in the entire realm, and heads straight for me and Teuila, bound to pass through the focus into Mjolnir, without touching Teuila. Frame eight, the lightning hits the focus, Whisper hits its target, Al'pa'ca, and I bamf to Al'pa'ca, whose form is now compromised. Frame nine, Lil and I plunge towards the ancient Sand, as Teuila fights to slow the flow of the lightning as it chases back after me, her empowered storm elemental helping her out.

Frame ten, Al'pa'ca dies, Teuila has to let loose the lightning to chase me, and I jet skyward, holding my breath. The lightning is instants away from striking me as I QCR to number five, take a breath, and LBBTKSL the hell out of the way before it strikes the ceiling, just above where I'd just been. My heart is pounding, and it's all I can do to keep from hyperventilating. Holy. Friggin'. Crap. That was close. Way too close.

If I'd been just a little slower, or had misjudged, I would have died. We took a huge bite out of the horde, and we killed Al'pa'ca. The energy is returning to the Keep, which still ain't the greatest thing to be happening, but we'll work on that in a bit, after Teuila siphons Alpacker's dragonforce. Phew. I want to catch my breath, but it's my duty to hold off the horde while Lil and Te work on getting her that dragonforce. Te and I switch places, leaping past each other.

Te grins wildly as she rushes back, calling to me in passing, “Gonna get to work on Packbutt's dragonforce babe, knock ‘em dead Air!”

My own grin creeps up the left half of my face at Teuila’s vote of confidence. I unleash another torrent of magic up the tunnel, risking a GSE Darkest Star's Event Horizon. I do it hesitantly. I’m trying to see if the temp SP that my spiritswarm was able to convert, from the consumption of the useless enchanted items, were enough for a safe cast. Phew, thankfully, they were. Now that's a crowd killer, and even though it buys me a minute, I've got no time to catch my breath as more of the mooks in the mob try to magick or dig their way around me and my shadow-black-hole, into the vault.

To stop the ones not caught in my GSE, I'm exhaling to unleash noxious gas, void breath, and the occasional puff of flame to ignite the gas if my foes’ own tech and electric powers don’t do it for me in advance. My breath comes in ragged gasps, the air heavy with the scent of ozone and the distant, ever-continuous clamor of battle.

I shout over my shoulder to Lil, "Okay, Lil buddy, grab our extradimensional bags and sacks, and shove as much of Al'pa'ca's crap into them as you can, and don't forget to use your Can'Z'aasian inventory too. Do that while Te's busy with Packbutt’s dragonforce then hustle back here—I could use an extra hand holding off the horde!"

A javelin, massive and barbed, hurtles towards me. I conjure my T K squares in defense, but the impact is too… impactful. Ugh. They shatter like glass, sending shards of mental agony shearing through my mind and a trickle of blood spurting from my nose. I manage to raise my buckler just in time to intercept the javelin, and the blow knocks me over rather than impaling me. I roll my eyes at my earlier redundant mental narrative, and begin to stand.

As I steady myself, a sudden, horrific thought strikes me. Wait. Lil knows I meant Al'pa'ca's belongings, right? Not his literal—Crap. I'd better clarify, just in case, so I do, "Hey, Lil! Not his actual crap, okay? Just the valuables!" I yell, hoping my voice doesn't betray the absurdity of the situation.

I mean, dragon dung is plenty useful, it helped thaw Teuila out of her seemingly permanently frozen prison, and it fires forges hot enough to mould legendary metals, but we’ve got hundreds of dragons back home to poop as much as we… want. Bluh. That thought got weird.

I can almost hear the smirk in Lil's reply, even amidst the chaos as he quips, "Got it, no dragon droppings! Just the shiny stuff!" his cheeky response to my plea. Said response, thankfully, is followed by the clinking of loot and the whoosh of displaced air as items vanish into the void of our magical storage.

I can't help but snort, the brief humor a welcome distraction from the pain and the pressure. Focus, Reggie, focus. Breathe Air, breathe. With a shake of my head, I prepare another spell, the laughter a tiny joy during a haggard and wearying moment. A smile plays on my lips as the chaos and clamor fades into the background, replaced by the comforting sensation of recalling my family, my beloved and my best pal.