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title: Lukarr Anheliath Origin

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# Lukarr Anheliath Origin

It had been three days since I decended into the lower valley in Ethrena near Nifendal, leaving behind the crisp air in the upper valleys of Crys. The air down here outright assaulted my snout, permeated with fresh pollen of a new season. The abundant wildlife this far from home was abuzz with the flurry of springtime activity. By now, the indignation from learning I had been passed over for the expedition had faded to a dull sting. This hunt was exactly what I needed, not a mere distraction, a quest. I would return with a prized Elk, to be jewel of the expedition's farewell feast, banishing any thoughts of dishonor.

The *Shuk-qalli* claim they made the choice of squires from only the tallest and strongest of us, to project the strength and honor of our clan they said. *Karshoji pothac*, I bested every one of the chosen in the Winter Tournaments. Even though they were each a hand taller and fifty pounds heavier. My *Lothtor* was the best tactician in the *djeradi*, and he spent more time on my tutelage than others, always claiming it was his duty to smother me since his mate died before I hatched. I sometimes wished the rest of my clutch hadn't been stillborn in their eggs, he would have had less time to spend on me. Still, I'm grateful for the way he relentlessly pushed me to hone my skills. It brought honor to myself and to the Clan. 

In an attempt to assuage my displeasure, *Lothtor* told me there are better warriors to squire under than Hedrinn. That the best of Clan Trexakabralatuul would be needed for far more important matters than an expedition beyond the peaks to obtain news of the outside world. He was right, of course, but I so desperately wanted to venture into the rest of Aurtheria. To meet Humans and Elves and Dwarves, in the flesh, to bring honor to the Clan, but most importantly to explore. My curious fascination with the other races of this continent, and those on the rest of Antares, would never be satisfied with stories. I craved adventure. Yearned for it.

My indignation had dulled but my shame had not. Tariv and I hatched in the same season and had been nigh inseparable ever since. He didn't deserve the things I said to him. It's true he was the most mischievous one in the *djeradi*, and he almost always needed me to get him out of trouble. But he wasn't going on the expedition alone, he wouldn't bring dishonor to himself without me by his side. It was a selfish thing to say. I would have to face him when I returned. Elk was always his favorite, which was perhaps the real motivation for my trip down into the lower valley.

I realized then that I was worried about Tariv leaving the peaks. Not because it would be without me, but knowing that the last expedition failed to return. A decade had passed, and shortly after their departure, Anyarithalaghoran flew off in a whirlwind. A psionic onslaught of unintelligible images overwhelmed my young mind as she fled, knocking me unconscious. That's how my *Lothtor* and the *Shik-qalli* came to learn I had been sneaking away to her lair for years. She would tell the most incredible stories, weaving her voice with her telepathy to stimulate all of my senses. She was mesmerizing, and is no doubt the origin of my wanderlust and appetite for adventure. The whole *djeradi* was furious when they learned I was there when she left. They whispered that I had somehow angered her, and in her fury she had withdrawn her protection, leaving us to fend for ourselves. This wasn't true of course, the *Shik-qalli* knew it but did little to quell the rumors.

Lady Anyarith, a powerful Crystal Dragon, rescued Clan Trexakabralatuul from a devouring entity over a century ago. She brought our people to settle this World, yet despite her benevolence the Clan's distrust of Dragons ran deep. They accepted her protection, and occasionally her guidance, but they always kept their distance. I had recurring dreams of visiting her lair, but it was forbidden. Finally, at eleven years of age, I worked up the courage to disobey and climbed the peak to her lair. Most of our Clan lived in fear of her, except my *Lothtor* and the *Shik-qalli*. Tariv accompanied me, but as we reached the entrance his fear was too intense, he would not enter. I was afraid as well, almost immobilized, but the pull to find her was stronger than it had ever been. It took enormous effort to put one foot in front of the other, but as I rounded a final cavernous turn and finally laid eyes upon her my fear vanished, replaced by something else, an unfamiliar feeling, something akin to warmth. She was breathtakingly beautiful. After that first trip, I always ventured back alone. Tariv kept my secret, as he always did. She treated me like an old friend, telling stories about other worlds, about the stars. Some about the Dragon tyrants, overcome by Evil, and how she helped the other Dragonborn Clans defeat them and earn our freedom. Her presence was always a comfort. I had begun to believe that Anyarithalaghoran felt some affection for me because my scales were Crystal like hers, though nowhere near as brilliant. A few of my scales had started to become more of a glossy white, but most still had a dull tinge, and mine did not shimmer with their own light. She once told me it was exceedingly rare for heritage so strong to come forward in newly hatched Dragonborn. It was true in our Clan. Only one of our *Shik-qalli*, Sorideh, had Draconic heritage as strong as mine, though her scales were Amethyst. She was in my bloodline, as her *qallim* produced my *Lothor's* egg. And old too, her lavender scales were deep and rich with color. She was an imposing sight, especially with that scowl of hers that always managed to evoke immense shame when you were its recipient.

As I came upon the glade I sought within Nifendal, I reached into my pack and brought out a brick of rose-tinted salt, a bounty of which could be found across the various peaks of Crys. It was also, conveniently, a favorite of the Elk in this region. I set the bait, and being careful not to sever the delicate fiber with my claw, I strung my bow, pulled back to the treeline and waited for my prey. I was not the most skilled with the bow, and archery certainly wasn't my tournament game of choice. The few pheasants hanging from my pack were target practice from the day before. After downing a few of the birds in flight, I was feeling confident in my skill to take down my prey this time. I hunted the same bull last Autumn, but my shot missed. I camped a fortnight waiting for a second chance that never came, Tariv teased me for moons. The glade was beautiful this time of year. I wish I hadn't said those things and had brought him along. Sighing, I admired the fresh blades of tall grass that peeked up between the blues and yellows and purples of mayflowers, marigold, and lavender, all steadily dancing in perfect unison to the unsung music of the light breeze. A colony of rabbits nibbled away at some overgrown brush nearby. One of them, a mother no doubt, pounded her foot in warning to an approaching hedgehog. I snickered and reached into my pocket to grab one of the few remaining cherries there. The little guy approached warily as I dangled it by the stem before snatching it greedily and scurrying off to some convenient hiding place. Movement out of the corner of my eye snatched me back to attention.

There he was. The largest Elk I had ever seen. Nearly as tall as me and easily four times my weight. He was magnificent, with antlers nearly half again his height. For a brief moment I felt guilty for what I was about to do. I held my breath and very slowly nocked an arrow. Preparing to draw, I took a deep breath. The world exploded as a blast of psionic energy overwhelmed all of my other senses. My head felt as if it were splitting down the center, the breath caught in my throat as I screamed. I don't know if any sound came out, the world around me had gone blank, silent except for the cacophonous roar taking place within my mind. The pain was excruciating, suffocating. I wondered if I was under attack, from who and why. I attempted to probe for intelligent minds nearby, but the force of the blast was too much, all of my effort was needed to stay conscious. Moments may have passed, or hours, but I wrestled back some semblance of control, just enough for the world to come back in to view. My breaths came in searing, ragged bursts. Blood dripped to the forest floor as I unclenched my hands that had been squeezed so tightly my claws had dug deep gashes into the leathery flesh of my palms. My scales quivered, vibrating with the energy swirling through me. The cacophony still raged, yet I was able to exert enough control to stand. Still, I labored against the unending onslaught of energy, attempting to focus on its source. After a few moments of convergence, a horrible dread welled up deep within me. I turned in the direction of its origin. The *djeradi*. Home.

I snatched up my pack and ran, leaving the bow where it had fallen. It had been a three day journey down into this valley. The light was fading and already I was tripping over the thick underbrush, trying to maintain concentration on dulling the power of this psionic blast lest it bring me to my knees again. No matter how intensely I concentrated I could make out no coherent message. Nothing this powerful could originate from a single source. Not unless Anyarithalaghoran had returned. Her energy was familiar to me, but this was foreign. It couldn't have been her. Whatever it was, I feared something terrible had happened and had to make haste. Consumed by concentration, I snagged my clawed foot on a fallen tree branch. Involuntarily, I howled in pain, my focus waned and the blast intensified. On all fours on the forest floor, I blinked the stinging tears from my eyes. How was I supposed to make it home like this? My will began to drain. A memory of *Lothor's* words rebuked my weakness. "Failure is not an option."

I lifted myself to a knee and tried to steady my breathing. The storm of psionic energy abated for a brief moment, just enough time for a clear voice to ring through the noise. *FLY!* It was Sorideh's voice, I would recognize her anywhere. Gathering myself, I prepared to split my concentration and materialize my spectral wings. Surprisingly the thought was all they needed. They had never come that easily to me before. I stretched them and was instantly taken aback by their size and power. In normal use they required a great deal of effort to summon, lasting only a moment in time and mustering only the strength to cross a gap, scale a small cliffside, or catch myself from a long fall. This time was different. I felt as if I could soar. Sorideh's voice came through again. *COME. HURRY!* Without hesitation I leapt, a powerful downdraft from my wings carrying me high into the twilight sky. A light twist and a powerful downward stroke propelled me in the direction of Home. I executed a short dive to gain speed, before gliding along the treetops, and I so desperately wanted to laugh, to enjoy the feeling of the sky. The psionic onslaught was back at full force, I didn't dare falter my concentration for even a second. The dread within me had only grown. What could this possibly be? How did Sorideh contact me through all of that, and from this great a distance? And what terrible thing could unleash such a force? The pit in my stomach was not from the flight.

Luck was on my side, a strong wind swept through the valley blowing up toward the peaks. I rode the updrafts, needing only a few downward thrusts a minute to maintain my height and speed. Hours passed in a daze. Midnight had fallen on the mountain, the air turning more frigid with each passing tree below. A bright moon lit the way, obscured by the occasional passing cloud. The scales on my forearms and shoulders luminesced in the moonlight, they had never done that before. My dread deepened as the cacophony dulled to a din. If I concentrated hard enough I thought I could make out screams. Salty tears stung my eyes, quickly running down the length of the frills on my cheeks, buffeted by the chill wind. If these were screams that had deafened all of my senses at first. Then for them to fade even as I draw nearer... *They're dying!* As the realization hit me, I redirected all remaining energy I could rally straight into my wings. I hoped they wouldn't fail me too soon. They had never lasted this long before, I desperately needed the energy sustaining them to last. *Tariv, Lothar, Sorideh. Hang on please.* A small part of me wished we worshiped the gods, any gods, so I would have someone to pray to for help. Instead I said a silent prayer to Lady Anyarith, but knew full well she was no deity. It was a small comfort.

I soared through the one remaining valley before the *djeradi*. Already I could see Anyarithalaghoran's peak rising in the distance. I saw no sign of her return. It was then that I saw it. My eyes were locked on the sky above home. Black clouds roared above Crys and expanded exponentially outwards, pushing their way out towards Aurtheria. Throughout, unnatural lightning in pink and purple hues pierced the sky. Curiously the air was silent, lacking the thunderous cracks I expected from such an ominous display. At the cloud’s epicenter, directly above the *djeradi*, a mass of chaotic energy grew downward, raw power seemingly reaching out for home. By now, the psychic screams had faded enough that the torrent of air rushing past my ears was now almost drowning them out completely. My mind raced as I speculated about what could possibly cause such an event such as this, and what I would do when I arrived. Suddenly it became obvious that I couldn't fly straight down into the valley, right on top of whatever was about to happen. The best course of action would be to fly up from the hills to the south, so I veered left, diving down to follow the main artery of a river that would continue its winding path right up to the South Gate of the *djeradi*. Soaring over and down the several cascading waterfalls as the river snaked its way through the cliffs should have inspired awe. All I felt was dread, steadily growing with every vigorous beat of my wings. The screams had all but dissipated by now. A faint mumbling broke through so I deepened my concentration. *Come. Hurry. Come. Hurry. Come. Hurry.* Sorideh, repeating her message over and over. It sounded as if she were quickly losing strength. My wings faltered and I was losing altitude. I rounded a bend in the river and a gasp escaped my quivering lips. I could see the outline of the outer walls and the South Gate clearly. Despite the darkness, the entire *djeradi* was visible as if it were midday, encapsulated in an enormous dome of swirling light.

A numbness came over me. My wings flapped frantically but my speed still slowed and I was nearing the ground. Whatever remaining energy fueled my wings had depleted. I let them go, falling the last ten feet to the cold, hard ground. My legs couldn't keep up with the speed of the landing, causing me to trip as I tumbled forward. The ground up here was still covered in a light dusting of snow, softening the fall. Heaving my mass of muscle and scale back on to my feet, I began to sprint faster than I ever had, eager to close the distance but at a loss for action. Sorideh was an extremely powerful Sorceress, supremely gifted with Psionic abilities that far exceeded anything I was capable of. What could I possibly hope to do that she could not? *Tariv, Lothar, Sorideh! I'm here...*

As I fought off my internal doubt, the walls drew near. I slowed just as I could make out a figure floating at the edge of the dome directly above the gate. The light within was blinding, an undulating projection of uncontrolled power. The unmistakable shimmer of the figure's lavender scales were obvious. It was Sorideh. "Sorideh, I'm here! Please...please tell me what I can do." As I approached, she lifted her head wearily. The dome originated from her outstretched palms. Near her, I could make out the silhouettes of five others, seemingly connected to one another by radiant light. *Who were they?* They were very clearly not Dragonborn, not of the *djeradi*. As far as I knew, the Clan had never had outsiders visit before. I could make out the projection of power more clearly now, it consisted of a pure purple light, chaotically emitting pink sparks and streaks of lightning. An undefineable figure of amorphous energy stretched itself along the dome, dissolving it and all other matter within its grasp. Tears streamed down my face, catching on my frills and freezing into little beads of ice. The screams had gone completely silent now. Sorideh's mumbling had ceased. For the first time all night there was only silence. A booming, deafening silence. A terrible silence that told me all I needed to know. Clan Trexakabralatuul was no more. I sank to my knees and sobbed. Now that I had full control of my mind, I reached out to Sorideh. Through her own telepathic ability I could feel the protective dome draining the last of her energies. I had only ever addressed her with her honorific. She was a leader of our Clan, and even as I shared her blood, she was both more and less than family. But she was dying. *Sorideh. What did this? How can I help you?*

Her eyes opened, her pupils were gone, blazing with the last of her power. The others that I saw with her were no more. Purple and pink tendrils swirled all around her in a mesmerizing, terrible symphony of color. It was clear this energy was not from her, but that she was fighting against it. The same tendrils reached out to me like the great tentacles of the Kraken from Lady Anyarith's stories. The largest of them wrapped itself around my chest, lifting me into the air. Two more wrapped around my knees, another two around my wrists. Where the tendrils of power touched my skin and scales, they burned like the hottest flame, yet left no mark. My sobs continued, but whether from the grief or the pain I couldn't tell. *It is here, Lukarr. None. Survive.* I could hear the pain in her thought, but again, whether her grief or actual pain was hard to decipher. Both I guess, looking back. Same as mine.

*Tell me what to do, Sorideh. Please.*

*AVENGE US, avenge Clan Trexakabralatuul!*

How? Earlier this day I craved excitement and adventure. But now? Now, I craved nothing more than a lecture from my *Lothar*, the aftermath of that mischievous grin on Tariv's face, or Shik-qalli Sorideh's inquisitive, yet silent stare. *I will. I will avenge all of you!*

*No, swear it Lukarr. Swear it!*

*I SWEAR, SORIDEH! I will avenge our Clan.*

*NOOOOOO!* An unfamiliar desperation in her thought. *YOU MUST...SWEAR AN OATH. "A Dragonborn never breaks their word."* She repeated a phrase I had heard over and over again since I was a hatchling. And I knew she was asking for something more than words.

The tendrils of power tightened, and I struggled to take in a full breath. I was grinding my teeth from the pain, but I nodded to Sorideh. I knew what I needed to do. I closed my eyes and severed my psionic connection to her, concentrating the last remaining dregs of my energy inwards. I breathed as deeply as I could, shoving the pain aside. I opened my eyes and looked up at Sorideh.  This time I spoke, aloud, clearly and calmly.

**"I, Trexakabralatuul Lukarr Anheliath, swear what years remain of my life and all of the years beyond my death, to hunt and annihilate the Evil responsible for the murders of my Clan here this night. I vow to let no Dragon Tyrant, no Law, no Mortal or Immortal, no Planar Being, no Deity, Celestial, or any other Denizen of the Spheres stand in the way of my Vengeance on this Plane or any other. My Retribution will pay any cost no matter the consequence, will never falter in the face of temptation no matter how great, and will take precedent over any and all things that do no not serve to take me closer to the Vengeance I swear this night."**

A surge of power erupted from my body and my scales lifted away from my skin, bathed in brilliant white light coming from within. Radiant energy from some unknown source engulfed me, instantly closing the gashes on my palm, invigorating me. For a brief moment the light repelled the tendrils, but they quickly regained their hold on me, expelling the remaining air from my lungs and feeling as if they would sear into my very soul. An unfamiliar voice pierced through the pain, a voice tinged with fear and anger, "You are chosen." it said to me. As the dome completely dissolved, waves of energy shot through the tendrils that held me. I felt as if I were being scorched out of existence. A guttural scream from deep within me filled the deafening silence. A blinding flash exploded outwards in every direction. The tendrils of remaining power snapped. The pain was unlike anything I had ever felt, anything I had even imagined. My vision darkened as consciousness began to fade. I free falled to the ground, the tendrils no longer held me aloft. Sorideh was gone. Where the *djeradi* of Clan Trexakabralatuul once stood, only a blackened crater remained. Chunks of earth raced through the air towards me. My body hit the ground, hard. Bones broke as I slammed into the ground. As the darkness closed in on my vision, I looked up to see an old human with a brown and black cloth robe standing over me. Before I could speak, the strange human knelt and a final thunderclap of power pierced the midnight air as complete darkness overtook me.

* * *

I awoke with a groan, the taste and scent of salt heavy in the air. A steady, unfamiliar sound seemed to synchronize with the slow beating of my heart. A symphony of high pitched cries emitted from some sort of creatures overhead, likely some peculiar bird, unknown to me. The ground beneath me was both soft and gritty, and I easily dug my claws into whatever it was. Wearily, I began to open my eyes. The intensity of the sun was blinding, I immediately squeezed them shut before squinting slowly, allowing my eyes time to adjust. The peculiar birds came in to focus above, hovering gracefully with incredibly white underbellies. Digging my elbows into the foreign ground beneath me, I eased myself into a sitting position. A smile crept onto my lips as I laid eyes upon the ocean for the first time. *Sand*. I dug my clawed feet into it, enjoying the warmth of it in spite of the heat of this place.

With relief, I noted that all of the pain had abated. At the memory of it, I idly caressed the flesh of my chest where the tendrils of terrible power violated me. I looked down just as I felt a cool, hard mass embedded there. Involuntarily, I jerked and spasmed, laying eyes upon an unrecognizable version of myself. My clothes were burned and torn, either in the aftermath of the event or from the Radiance of that unknown source after swearing the Oath. My flesh, which was once mostly a lighter gray had turned a glossy white, almost shimmering in the sunlight. The rest of my scales too had gone white as snow, with a scattered few reflecting rays of sunshine with a dazzling brilliance. Fewer still seemed to undulate their own light, glimmering of its own accord. The bulk of my shock though, stemmed from the sight of the unusual amethyst gemstone that was now deeply embedded in the leathery flesh directly over my beating heart. A pattern radiated outwards from the amethyst, almost in the shape of tendrils from a vine. The color of the pattern matched that of the gemstone, likewise embedded in the surrounding flesh, not unlike a tattoo. Yet when looking at it long enough, the pattern seemed to emit a soft pulsating glow of its own. Was this some remnant of Sorideh's power? I traced the pattern with a claw while absently mulling over the implications of such a thing. A faint telepathic echo pressed against the edges of my mind. I let it in, it's form alien to me. An idea maybe? No, a word. I parted my lips and directed the echo to my mouth. "Chosen."

In the months that followed, I discovered I was no longer on Aurtheria. Rather, I was on a continent the desert dwellers of Eastern Saloris referred to as Balthus. Even so, they referred to the world as Antares. In Kingdom Deadmourn, I met all manner of races. In a previous life, I might have been inclined to sate my curiosities, however, my oath was declared, and vengeance was sworn. Many of these people were like me, righteous in their beliefs and oaths. They fought to the North with the divine might of Helm against a scourge that seemed to never end.

As a traveler, I made way to Hardwyn in hopes to find a city referred to by the people of Deadmourn as Jilant. I was told ships capable of sailing to Aurtheria made port there. While in Jilant, sailors spoke of war in Aurtheria and the blocking of passage to port by those called Talthars. A war on Aurtheria? Preposterous! And who are these Talthars? The name was unfamiliar, albeit I lacked much knowledge outside the *djeradi*. 

I waited for many months working on small adventures to earn coin for potential passage. Eventually, the ships arrived. Striker and Wrecker both owned by the Farwater Company out of Elathin. I boarded the Striker and paid coin for passage.

In time, the bell rang, and the ship set sail.
