The Core's Origin

Azkthak had been satisfied with the strange hatchling’s growth, and had also become quite comfortable in the depths of the dungeon, even if some of the creatures that lived there were beyond horrifying.

How could anything that had no control of Concepts intimidate an eldar dragon? Especially ones so small.

Still, at least the creatures who lived in the fiery depths of the dungeon had been welcoming of Azkthak.

With the comforting knowledge that they were safe and the hatchling was on track for a decent amount of time, Azkthak had settled down for a nap. Just a few decades were all they needed, after all the excitement of the years since Grthak’s death. The last time Azkthak could remember such excitement had been when they had first arrived on the planet and had spent years exploring the place and fighting with the gods.

When Azkthak awoke, they stretched their limbs and wings while opening their jaws for an enormous yawn. At the same time, Azkthak stretched, letting out a pulse of power that just touched the boundaries of what the eldar dragon was capable of.

The dragon froze, their jaws open and flames tickling the back of their throat.

How? How was this possible?

Azkthak was an eldar dragon, and had been since before arriving on the planet. They had been granted access to their first Concepts from the flight’s kaiser dragon, as did all dragons who were not born on planets which had not yet fallen to the power of a single individual. Kaisers fully controlled every Concept of a planet, and while a mere eldar dragon like Azkthak did not understand all of what that meant, they did understand that kaisers granted lesser dragons access to Concepts while retaining ultimate control.

That was why eldar dragons were sent out, to gain their own mastery of Concepts, and hopefully, completely dominate a planet of their own and become a new kaiser dragon.

It was exceedingly rare, but it did happen on occasion.

The problem that Azkthak felt was that it was clear that the Concepts which they had personally mastered and not been granted by the kaiser dragon no longer belonged to Azkthak. Once again, the eldar dragon was subordinate to another who truly controlled the Concepts.

Centuries—no, millenia of progress had been lost, and Azkthak did not even understand how it could have happened. It was terrifying.

The dragon’s wings moved, shifting from stretching to flying, and the massive beast left their chosen lair in the dungeon. They needed to find out what was happening in the rest of the world, and that meant speaking with either eldar dragons, or the gods. Both prospects were almost equally unappealing.

The dragon flew through the dungeon, past the fire giants lounging in the lava bath and moving upwards.

Azkthak’s head snapped to the side as they felt something. No, not here! It can’t be!

What were those blasted birds doing on this planet? It had been agreed that the phoenixes would not touch this planet, so why was there one?

Azkthak immediately changed course. A treaty violation was more important than whatever it was that had happened to their Concepts. This could impact the entire flight, or maybe even the entire race of dragons. This was no small matter.

The dragon raced through the dungeon, ignoring all that they passed as they made their way towards the phoenix which had been sensed.

When Azkthak arrived at a nest of flames, they found a hatchling phoenix, which appeared to only be a few centuries old.

The sight of a child stopped the dragon dead. They were immediately reminded of the dragon hatchling that had been given birth by the creator of the dungeons.

“Child, are you also born of this place? Does the treaty still stand?”

Two blank eyes stared at Azkthak, blinking in a disturbing manner. Why did the birds always appear to be utterly brainless?

“Who are you? Are you another neighbor?”

Azkthak suppressed their irritation at the young phoenix. The question indicated pure ignorance, and the similarities to the hatchling dragon were increasing. “Where are your predecessors? Do you have any?”

The bird blinked again, its head cocked slightly to the side. “Are there more like me? Do you know where they are? Can you take me to them?

“Wait, no. I can’t leave… Can you bring them to me?”

Azkthak’s headache was getting worse, so they promptly turned around and left at top speed. Trying to converse with the child was not worth the frustration, and the eldar dragon had already received the necessary confirmation.

The creator of the dungeons had created a phoenix, which was a problem.

While phoenixes had many, many flaws, Azkthak knew that the birds were not as… proliferate with their lust as some dragons tended to be. It was basically impossible for there to be any descendants of phoenixes on the entire planet, so how had this mysterious being produced one?

The dragon felt increasingly uneasy. They had only taken a nap, and yet so much seemed to have happened in no more than a few decades.

They flew upwards, racing through the levels of the dungeon to reach the surface world. Azkthak needed to speak to their own kind, or even one of the gods, to learn of what had transpired during their nap.

As the dragon moved through the dungeon, they noticed that the creatures of the dungeon were not any stronger than before, but that each level had grown far more complex. Fully functioning ecosystems appeared to be in place, with creatures just as varied and diverse as in nature, if not more so. It was only at this time that the artificial nature of the dungeon really stood out to Azkthak, though it was because that nature could no longer be found.

Previously, there had been a subtle, unconscious acknowledgement that the sections of the dungeon were not naturally occurring biomes, and it was not due to the fantastical nature of the creatures inhabiting the dungeon, but the simplistic, constructed ecosystems that had had a few bits missing to make things fully complete.

It was the minor things that were so easily overlooked, but once they were in place, the difference was astounding. The dungeon had grown more vibrant.

Azkthak almost slowed their ascent, but pushed on after a brief hesitation. They needed to understand what had happened. Clearly, the creator of the dungeon had experienced some exceptional progress over the last few years.

Finally, the dragon emerged from the dungeon, exiting the region claimed by the Authority of the master of the dungeon, which would allow Azthak to move more easily, as well as to make contact with others who could inform them of what had happened.

The question was, who would be the best informed? Most dragons who remained on the planet had grown rather reclusive after the wars with the gods and the subsequent truce that had been enacted. This meant that most of the dragons were completely clueless to the happenings in the world at large.

As loath as Azthak was to admit it, the gods were likely to be the best informed about current affairs.

However, after Anba’s taunting the last time they had met, Azthak refused to approach their old rival and opponent.

The god with the best relationship with the dragons was Yur, but unfortunately, she still held a grudge against Azthak, though it was a mystery why Anba had not also been held responsible for the destruction of the goddess’s former seat of power. The god had been the one to instigate that battle, and it had not been Azthak’s fault that their fight had drifted.

Still, there was no better option.

Azthak resigned themselves to an unpleasant conversation so that they could learn what they wanted. Steeling their resolve, the eldar dragon reached out to Yur.

Come see me.

The answer was faint, shockingly so. What could have weakened the goddess to such a degree that her voice felt so weak?

It seemed that more had happened that Azthak had suspected, and that made meeting with Yur even more important.

All hesitation disappeared as the dragon vanished from in front of the entrance to the dungeon. Not one of the humans present had ever noticed a thing.

Just a short while later, but far, far to the north, Azthak arrived at the Sanctuary of Yur, the seat of the goddess’s power and the center of her Authority.

As soon as the dragon arrived, they could sense Yur more clearly, and could also sense just how diminished she had become.

She appeared as an image, though not with an actual avatar. Yur had been the one to put the restrictions on the gods’ avatars into place, and because she was the earth itself, she had naturally excused herself from the same rule that all of the other gods were held to.

It was strange to see Yur without a physical form, as she was the only god to naturally possess a physical self.

As was only proper, Azthak lowered their head to the elder being in a sign of respect.

Yur chuckled. “How it must gall you to lower your head to one as weakened as I.”

Azthak’s head jerked back slightly in confusion. Clearly, things were even worse than they appeared.

It took a moment for Yur to notice the dragon’s reaction. “Oh? You didn’t know? I apologize, as I had assumed that was why you came. You are the local representative of your flight, are you not?”

“Forgive my ignorance, Goddess, but I know nothing of the current state of affairs. I came to you to learn of what has transpired while I was slumbering.”

“Mmmm… I see now. And did your slumber happen to take place in a dungeon?”

Azthak instantly grew wary, as they could not think of a single reason for the goddess to ask that particular question. The location of dragons’ lairs were certainly not secret from the gods, but why would Yur even consider the possibility that Azthak had not been in their lair?

“It… did. Does that have something to do with what has happened these recent years?”

“Merely everything.”

Confusion was mounting. Azthak had known Yur since they had first arrived on the planet, and the goddess was not one for riddles or teasing. What had happened to her?

“It seems I must continue to apologize for my ignorance, Goddess. Could I ask you to aleve me of this particular failing?”

Yur sighed, and remained silent for long enough that the dragon considered leaving.

“I am dying, Azthak. My body is being devoured by these dungeons and their creator while my Concepts are being stolen from me. I had thought I still had a century or so ahead of me, and yet after a mere decade, I can already feel that my time is quickly approaching. Things are accelerating, and I cannot see what the future holds for this world.”

The revelations shocked Azthak. They could not imagine what could be doing this to an earth goddess. Such deities were beings who even kaiser dragons could not kill without obliterating an entire planet, which was beyond any dragon Azthak had ever heard of.

What could devour a planet while leaving it intact? Yur claimed the dungeons were the cause; could it be the Authority they held?

Suddenly, Azthak made a connection. “I have lost my mastery of all of the Concepts I gained while on this planet.”

A delicate, carefree laugh rang out across the desolate mountain. “It looks like we are all doomed then! Who could have imagined that dragons and gods would suffer the same fate without any idea as to who or what is behind it.

“You have some years, but are far from being ancient. I wonder if you can understand the regret of one like me for simply not being able to see the forthcoming changes that will transform this entire planet. It truly is my only regret.”

“How… advanced is your condition?”

The goddess gave the saddest smile Azthak had ever seen. It was such a mortal expression, and yet it perfectly fit the fading goddess. “Already the dungeons have started to appear on the other continents. I believe I only have another decade before I am entirely gone, though it could be faster. I wonder, will I linger after I lose all of my Concepts, or will I vanish while my body remains to be devoured uncontested? Tell me, have you ever heard tale of something like my condition?”

“I have not, but I will speak to my sire. While these matters are unknown to us, my flight’s kaiser may have more knowledge. Should I learn of anything, I will return to speak with you.”

Yur waved the offer away with a transparent hand. “It won’t change anything, so there’s no need to trouble yourself.”

“Phoenixes have appeared.”

Yur barked a laugh. How was it that as she was dying, Azthak had heard more mirth from the goddess than in the preceding millenia they had known her?

“I see. In that case, you are already required to speak to your flight. It seems that there is even more at play than I had realized. Gods, dragons, and now phoenixes. It appears that all three of the major powers have become involved. I wonder if my planet will survive all of this.”

As Azthak stared at the goddess, her image grew fainter, and she seemed to forget that the dragon was present. She stared off into space, unaware of her own surroundings. It was a response that Azthak had seen in elderly dragons who had failed to master any Concepts and started to fade away. They became disconnected from the physical world, and instead appeared to form some sort of connection with whatever lay beyond it.

With another bow, the eldar dragon silently took their leave. Azthak needed to return to their lair and contact the flight. There was too much happening that the dragon could not understand.

Azthak flew slowly. They revealed their full size and simply reveled in the feeling of cutting through the sky. There were few pleasures that could match flight.

As Azthak drew close to their lair, the brief respite was abruptly and harshly shattered.

Someone was in their lair.

Furious at the audacity of the intruder, Azthak roared into the sky with a blast of flames. There was no reason not to announce their presence, as none could escape their wrath.

The dragon circled twice as they waited to see if the intruder would emerge, and when no one appeared, Azthak landed and folded their wings before entering the cave.

“Azthak, so good of you to stop by. It’s been dreadfully dull waiting for you all this time.”

The dragon froze. What in the world was Hidde doing in their lair?