‘I know that it was Valtak’s choice to help me unlock the blue flames but this happened because of me.’ Lith thought. ‘He could have put me down like a rabid dog and get out of the fight unscathed. Instead, Valtak chose to save my life at the cost of his own.’
As for Valeron and Elysia, they weren’t familiar with the concept of death but they could feel the warm essence of the old Dragon growing colder and more distant. Solus, Kamila, and the two Guardians did everything they could to soothe the babies but they kept crying, begging the sleeping Wyrm to wake up.
Not far from there, in his lab, Leegaain felt Valtak’s light dim. The Father of All Dragons perceived the death of all those who carried his blood and when he could afford it, he mourned for them in the privacy of his lab.
***
Somewhere very distant yet very close, at the same time.
Valtak sat up abruptly, like a Dragon waking from a nightmare.
‘Where am I and what’s this noise?’ He could hear the familiar racket of hatchlings wailing in the distance yet there was no one in sight.
The place around him was completely white, making it impossible to tell left from right and up from down. Valtak would have thought the place empty, but his senses perceived the presence of many things and countless people.
They were all around him, just at one hair breadth of distance yet he couldn’t see them. It was as though the intense light filling the place blinded him to some things and allowed him to see everything else perfectly.
Like the Dragon that suddenly appeared in front of him.
“Valky!” It was a female dragon, a bit smaller than the Father of Fire with brownish-red scales of the same hue of the color of Elina’s hair.
She waved at him her clawed hand, smiling with joy.
“Mom?” The Elder Wyrm froze for a second, his voice cracking with emotion. “Is it really you?”
Four thousand years had passed since Tharma, mother of Valtak, had died, but he still missed her. He still dreamed about her as it had often happened during his millennium-long slumber.
“Valky!” He hadn’t heard that moniker for almost ten thousand years and that voice for a very long time, but he could recognize them both among millions.
“Mom!” He charged forward on all fours, tensing the muscles of his legs like springs before jumping in her arms.
Valtak had been strong ever since he had left his ancestral home. He had been strong for his brothers, for his wife, and for his children. Once he had taken the mantle of Father of Fire, he had been even stronger for Dragonkind and Mogar.
“Valky, I missed you so much.” In the warmth of Tharma’s arms, in the embrace of her wings, Valtak could finally allow himself to be weak.
As their scales touched, his form shrunk to that of a young Dragon less than one-third her size so that Tharma could easily lift and hold him to her chest.
“I missed you too, Mom. Every day since you…” The words died in his mouth as he realized that the reality in front of him didn’t make sense.
“Me too, Valky.” Yet as Tharma spoke, as her soothing voice filled the gaping hole that her demise had left, Valtak simply didn’t care. “I’m so proud of you. You were a good hatchling who grew into a great Dragon and later you became an amazing father.
“I want you to know that none of your children who turned bad was because of you. They took wrong paths in life not because you failed them as a father, but because they failed themselves.
“Of all your achievements, this is the one I’m the most proud of.”
“Thank you, Mom.” The Father of Fire felt his eyelids grow heavy.
He felt at peace and wanted to sleep. Somehow, Valtak knew that when he woke up, there would be no responsibility waiting for him. No one to whom he would have to teach or take care of. He would be finally free.
Yet there was a nagging feeling in the back of his head that stopped him and the distant sound of cries made it hard for him to relax.
“Mom, what is this place?”
“This is the Mindscape, hatchling.” Tharma replied. “And I have a confession to make. I am your mother, but I’m not Tharma.”
Valtak opened his eyes wide, noticing that even though the form of the Dragoness was the same, now her scales bore the six colors of the elements plus one he couldn’t put to focus, no matter how hard he tried.
The real Tharma had no such affinity for magic. She had been a powerful mage and a wise Wyrm.
Valtak’s mother had been a candidate for the title of Father of Fire but she had stepped down because she was wise enough to recognize her shortcomings compared to the Dragon who had been appointed as Father of Fire before Valtak.
“I share all of her memories and thoughts, though.” Mogar said. “Everything I’ve told you is true. Your mother is waiting for you on the other side and I’m relaying her words.”
“The other side?” Valtak was still small, but from Mogar’s arms, he could see far.
There was something black on the horizon. Like thunderclouds, but lower and with no flashes of lightning. It was as though a dark mist was slowly devouring the light.
“Yes, hatchling.” Mogar nodded. “Do you remember what happened before you came here?”
At those words, the Elder Wyrm’s life flashed in front of his eyes. Not just the lessons with Lith and the fight with the Void Demon Dragon. He relived over eleven thousand years in a single instant.
“The souls. The blue flames. My injuries.” He patted down his body, expecting to feel pain yet experiencing none.
“Correct.” Mogar/Tharma said. “You should be dead by now but you keep clinging to life. Your stubbornness brought you to the Mindscape and me to you.”
“What do you mean?” Valtak asked.
“This shouldn’t be happening, hatchling.” She replied. “This isn’t natural. You are refusing death. You are fighting it with your willpower and mana beyond what any normal person can do. Do you know what that means?”
“That I’m turning into an Abomination.”
“Correct again.” Mogar/Tharma nodded. “I’ve come to warn you since saving you is not up to me. Only you can decide what to do. You can stay here and turn your back to me. Once you do, the darkness will engulf you.
“Or you can embrace me and pierce through the light, joining your mother. The choice is yours, Valtak, son of Tharma and Dashak, Father of Fire.”
The Elder Wyrm heard once again the crying noise and turned toward its source. This time, his Dragon Eyes peered through the veil of Mogar’s embrace and the Mindscape.
He bore witness to the events unfolding on the moon’s surface but not like any species of Dragon would. He saw everything like Nana had done on her deathbed and like a Guardian did every moment of their lives.
