Calamity: A Ballad of Ash

Prologue

As the dust settled, the cosmic behemoth still remained. Wounded as it was, most of the auric dragons had already croaked.

Aphim struggled to stand, using his glaive no longer as a weapon, but as a crutch to lift himself from the ground. He flicked his stare across the Dragon Aerie in search of Yharon, wondering if his peer had at the very least survived, but he was nowhere to be found. 

He let out a pained groan, before suddenly noticing the lifeless bodies of his fellow monks lying before him. Their leaking blood desecrated the sacred summit, with their once warm faces now becoming vacant and devoid of any life.

Aphim's stomach began to churn, feeling as though he could vomit at any moment. Lifting his head up, he saw Zeratros beyond him, gravely injured and skyward no more. Aphim laid beside him, left in a state of stupor. With his breath rasped, he managed to get out a few words from his throat. "It is too late, your grace. We've lost." 

"Yes... Naught shall kill this monstrosity," Zeratros said painfully, "We've only one thing left that can allow us to survive, and we have weakened it enough to do so."

As his sentence was uttered into the air, Aphim spoke quietly with worry present in his eyes. "The draconium seal..."

"We shall banish it, to the darkside of the moon. There's no victory for us to bear, only through the incantation can my people survive..." Zeratros stopped for a moment, looking around him. Many of his brethren laid no more than corpses, their entrails scattered and bones sticking out their deadened limbs.

After letting out a mournful sigh, Zeratros began to hear loud footsteps staggering towards him. He slowly turned around, meeting the eyes of the dragon who shared the power of rebirth with his kind.

Yharon bowed his head and began to kneel at the foot of Zeratros', his once resplendent feathers now blanketed in blood. Before long others followed suit, with the remaining dragons hobbling towards their ruler with what little strength they had. Lastly Aphim arrived at his feet, his white and gold sewn robes now torn and tainted. He gradually knelt like the others as he spoke in a reverent tone. "Let us do as we must, your grace... Together." As he bowed his head, a solemn smile formed on Zeratros' face, with vigor returning to his broken bones.

Turning his head to stare down the beast once more, he unfurled his tainted wings, using the last bit of strength he held to manifest the draconium seal into existence.

The seal was invoked by a sequence of idioms, and was composed solely of primordial light, a prodigious power only Zeratros held. However, with his strength dwindling, the rest of his people came to his side, aiding him with the chime of their buoyant voices.

As the cosmic terror let out a shattering screech and prepared a devastating attack, the murmurs of the dragons began to finish. The incantation was at last complete, and with ancient light revealing itself at the precipice of the seal, only two words were uttered from the maw of their virtuous king. "Begone, Fovos."

As soon as his voice was unleashed, the seal brought about a singularity of light, smiting the core of the beast in just a blink of an eye. As stillness overtook the dragons, the primordial seal befell the beast, casting it away until it was imprisoned upon the moon, where it would spend the rest of its days.

The darkness began to retreat, with the light of the Dragon Aerie finally returning. The battle had ended, and Terraria was safe once more. Relief overcame the dragons for a moment, thankful that their kind had survived such a raw and dire conflict.

However, this warm feeling was short-lived.

At the center of the Dragon Aerie laid their king, who commanded the ancient power of the sun itself. His primordial light was thought to be incapable of being extinguished. Yet there he sat, harshly panting as the fire in his soul faded. Soon rain began to fall upon the summit, with the last bit of light from the sky bathing Zeratros in his deathbed.

The auric dragons stood side by side before the dying king, with feelings of sorrow encumbering them. Somber voices began to emerge from all of the people, grieving over the decimation of nearly all dragons and monks.

Aphim stood silently, his palms covering his teary eyes. But, in only a trice, he could feel someone nudge his shoulder in a comforting way. He pulled his hands off his face, realizing the nudge was that of his old friend, Yharon.

No words were exchanged, yet their dejected expressions told a thousand words. It was as though their tastes became one, and their suppressed emotions were poured into each other.

Suddenly, Yharon began whispering into Aphim's ear with a sincere tone. "I have shared with him my power of rebirth, so he may yet return one day... But until that day arrives, say what you must."

Aphim nodded his head, before walking closely to the fading light dragon. Others watched as he stood before Zeratros, gently setting his hand on the snout of whom he swore eternal servitude. He closed his eyes for a moment, beginning to speak with a shaky voice. "You were the one who permeated truth upon my reality, and offered insight unforeseen."

He paused for a moment, opening his eyes and gripping the rod of his glaive tightly as his other hand still rested on the king. "But now you lie here, your light fading away..." All others in the Aerie fell silent, listening closely to his meager voice.

Aphim began trembling, slowly lifting the tip of his glaive towards the king's chest, incense rising from its bladed edge. "Thank you, your grace, for you have bestowed upon me the opportunity I so desperately sought. I shall be your new light, and you shall be with me, ever eternal."

As he finished speaking, Yharon's eyes widened, realizing that this was no longer a simple farewell. The dragon's body felt numb, yet he moved regardless. As Yharon bolted towards Aphim, he held his claws out high, shouting desperately as his wings were outstretched. "Aphim, don't!"

But, Yharon's words fell flat on the ears of the monk. He was too late.

Aphim hastily plunged his glaive through the pale hide of Zeratros, with a blinding radiance emerging from his dissipating body. The primordial light that the dragon king once held showered the traitor, blinding those who surrounded him.

As the glaring sunlight began to subside, everyone looked unto the near unrecognizable being. They were left speechless, paralyzed by shock and awe as a large milk-white eye gazed through them, as if it had enfolded their auric souls. Yharon stood aghast, trying to let his tongue run loose with words, but only a few could escape. "Aphim... What have you become?"

"I am Aphim no longer," He abruptly declared. "I am Xeroc, the first god."