The Endless Cycle

Prologue

'"Le plaisir délicieux et toujours nouveau dune occupation inutile.| The delightful and ever-novel pleasure of a useless occupation" - Henri de Régnier-
*****

Thick layers of smog permeated through the air as the echoing screech of the Great Wyrm reverberated across the tainted mountains of the ruined keep. Smoke swallowed the sky while the flames of destruction tore at the land in their path. Tattered banners whipped furiously from their posts, the walls and windows of the broken fortress smashed and now beheld in ruins from the roaring infernos.
Everywhere radiated charred destruction and death. Scorched, scattered carcasses were strewn across the battlefield as severed limbs hung out from under melted masses of armor. So much blood had seeped into the dry earth it nearly rose like waves of a crimson sea.

The fiery red beast hovered ahead in the distance, the wind roaring past its wings. Its sulfur tinted reptilian eyes staring down at the scorched battlefield below.
With another shriek it swung its tail and swooped down against the hard, rock terrain of the mountain side. Rugged stones tumbled down the sloped landscape as the creature perched upon the edge of one of the ridges overlooking the battle. There it raised its head and let out a bellowing roar, calling out to all who could hear its cry.
In the heart of the raging inferno stood a figure amidst the chaos, darkened in silhouette by the unrelenting flames around him.
His cloak swayed from his shoulders like the wings of a shadow as the dragon towered over the man and his comrades. Its ineligible snarls and cries flowed clearly through the young man's ears, as if he could understand what it had to say.
"Come, Arisen..." echoed a voice that rumbled deep within. Its wings spread wide, its pulse beating in the man's ears, it had come from everywhere and nowhere, neither within nor without his own mind. The same call, the same taunt - a beckoning from the Wyrm itself to prove himself worthy.

No mercy, no exceptions. It would not give up just because this young man wished to save the innocent. To end this nightmare once and for all. This creature, this foul abomination of nature itself, did not care for mortal affairs, for it lived to bring only death and suffering wherever it went. This world and all others were but playthings for the Great Wyrm, and it relished in watching its prey suffer in vain. It would stop at nothing until all hope was lost.
"Prove thyself worthy to find out what lies beyond the eternal ring. Show you have to power to stay the course and slay me..." The beasts words rolled over his tongue like a guttural growl. It's maw contorting with every syllable it uttered as if it were speaking in a foreign tongue. A thick trail of smoke billowed out from its gaping maw, bitter and sulfurous with an acrid odor of decay that burned the young mans lungs from the mere act of breathing it in. This fight would end in victory or death. He charged forward, there was no turning back now.
The battle was long and bloody, his allies and myrmidons fought bravely at the Arisen's side, their blades shining with their wielder's strength. They moved as one. As if the Arisen were in control of them all.

The Arsen himself had fought hard, his own sword glistening with the blood of his enemies as he swept through the battlefield with ease. He was a blur of motion, a force to be reckoned with. The true harbinger of their glory.
But victory did not come without sacrifice - there were losses among the Arisen's allies. Those who had laid down their lives in the hopes that their deaths may lead to the salvation of the world.
It was a battle said to be unlike any other. One that would be remembered for ages to come. But in the end, the outcome of the battle would not be known, for the Arisen's fate lay in the hands of the Wyrm. None would be certain of what transpired in the final moments.

Countless lifetimes came to pass, the world continued to turn, and the stars in the sky burned brightly as they've done so for centuries.
It continued to spin on its axis, so oblivious to the struggles of its inhabitants. Oblivious to the great battle that had taken place.
It was as if time had stopped, as if it were standing still. As if it were stuck in a loop, unable to escape the grasp of the Wyrm's power.

Until the coming of the next great Arisen.

But even then, the question remained.

Who had triumphed in the end?

What was the fate of the Arisen?

Perhaps the answer would never be known.

Perhaps it would remain a mystery for all of eternity.

Just as it had been in the beginning.

❧

The sky rumbled and the clouds were dark and heavy as they swirled overhead, the distant sounds of thunder thrumming ominously. Flocks of harpies glided through the air in a frenzy, their shrill voices crying out in excitement. Swooping and diving through the dreary haze with a single minded determination as the sky continued to pulsate and shake, flashes of lightning rippling through the darkness as the horizon turned teal.

It was as if the heavens themselves had opened up, as if the gods themselves were witnessing the unfolding events with anticipation. The gleam of crimson scales emerged from the swirling masses of charcoal clouds. Rays of light dancing across the surface as the form of the Great Wyrm as it dropped down from the gloom, falling from the sky like a meteor. It was as if the world itself was watching in awe as the it fell, its size easily dwarfing the surrounding mountains in comparison. The beasts eyes snapped open, a milky white film covering its vision.

Its large frame shook as it reared its head up, its wings unfurling and its claws slashing at the sky in anger. A screech akin to the scream of a thousand dying men resounded in the air as it took to the world above, its body twisting and shifting as it swooped upwards, its wings stretching to their full length as it arched its back.

Its powerful tail whipped violently in the air as it coiled and contorted, sending waves of power crackling through the air. The harpies screamed and flailed, turning into nothing more but snacks for the mighty creature. But it wasn't interested in their insignificant forms. They were but a hindrance to its path.

For the Great Wyrm of legends hungered only for one thing, only one person it desired as its powerful strides brought it closer to an appearing landmass.

The winds of change bringing with it a new day.
A new era for the lands of Gransys.
A new age of turmoil and strife.
The beast roared out, its voice booming and echoing across the region. Its mighty roar signaling the beginning of a new dawn for the continent.
It was the hour of the dragon's return.