NOVEL NEXT Chapter 61: The Ones Waiting On the Other Side
The silence beneath the sea, beneath the worlds within the Crest, was not empty. It pulsed with memory. With legacy. With the immense, slumbering breath of something ancient and eternal. Lukas stood upon the seabed of a world untouched by time. The light here bent strangely, filtered through layers of water and magic older than the very mountains of Hiraeth. And before him, seated atop a throne of petrified coral and glimmering obsidian, was the First Dragon Lord of the Seas.
Thalarion Drakos. His wings were folded like cathedral walls. His scales shimmered like stars submerged in ink. He did not rise. He only looked, his gaze heavy enough to make gods falter. But not quite heavy enough to make Lukas Drakos falter. Not anymore.
"You are smaller than I expected," Thalarion rumbled, voice like the ocean floor cracking and Lukas realized that he was chuckling "And yet...you carry a great storm within you, Little One."
Lukas didn't answer. He bowed his head in respect. Not in fear. Not in submission. But in recognition. Thalarion had referred to him as Little One. But a mutual understanding passed between the two, he was little only in size compared to Thalarion.
"You've fought well," Thalarion continued, voice slower now, gentler. "You've defeated Jaren. Learned from Valerion. Bested the Monarch. But I will not raise the Seas against you, child."
The young dragon's brow furrowed. Thalarion was...refusing to fight him? Lukas had not even asked for battle yet he had already been turned down before the question could be raised.
"Why?" He asked the great dragon before him.
"Because there's nothing left for me to give you," Thalarion said. "You are already…beyond what I am capable of, Little One."
A stillness fell upon Lukas. One not of peace, but of shock. In the blistering pace that he had set for himself, Lukas had never really stopped to consider how far he had come. How strong he had become.
"You think me your final test," Thalarion stated. "But that's simply your pride speaking. A natural instinct for those who climb too far. They say pride is the downfall of our kind, I'm sure you have heard it before. But Lukas, you must realize that you have grown powerful. More than I ever was at your age. And perhaps…perhaps more powerful than I have ever been."
Lukas didn't know what to say. He'd come here expecting storm and fury. Another trial. Another chance to measure his worth through combat.
But instead—
"You feel it, don't you?" Thalarion asked. "The hunger…fading. Perhaps it has already faded long ago."
And Lukas did feel it. The relentless, gnawing desire to fight. To rise. To prove to himself that he could become something more, that he could become worthy of sitting on that throne. It had burned so brightly through the endless Trials, through the chaos of memories and the blood-soaked legacies of the Dragon Lords before him.
But now?
It flickered. It dimmed. Not from defeat. But because he had reached it. The peak of what was possible for a mortal to achieve.
"You've surpassed the need for struggle," Thalarion told him. "So let me ask you what truly matters: Why? Why have you chosen to climb so high? Why endure so much? Why fight until the rage that flows through your veins becomes the only thing left of you?"
Lukas looked up. And he had no answer. Not at first, at least. Lukas stood there in silence as time flowed strangely around them, like the world itself had paused to listen. And slowly—slowly—the memories returned. Not of battles. Not of victories.
But of the memories of people. People that he had come to care so deeply about:
Of Katrina Drakos, his niece, the girl who had greeted him to a warhammer to the face.
Of Rodan Drakos, who had given him the confidence he needed to come face to face with the guilt of his past and present.
Of Lady Kaitlyn, the Consort of the Seas who had trusted him even when she had no real reasoon to do so.
Of the Kraken, first a foe but now perhaps one of the few individuals that he knew he could trust his life with.
Of Jesse Sterling, the young Dragonborn blessed with intellect beyond his years who he knew would one day bring endless prosperity to their people..
Of his mother, Selene of Dawn, who cared for him more than he knew.
Of those he had already sworn to protect, even when they didn't know it.
Lukas's voice cracked as he finally spoke: "I'm doing it for them."
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"Them?" Thalarion asked but Lukas had a feeling the great dragon already knew who he was referring to.
"The ones waiting for me. The ones who still need me." Lukas whispered as the memories, his very own memories, that belonged to him now filled his mind. The memories that had been lost as he travelled the worlds within the Crest, the memories that were truly and rightfully his.
The old dragon was silent for a long time. Then, with a slow, thunderous breath, he lowered his massive head. His golden eyes softened. "Then you understand now."
"Understand what?" Lukas stared into those eyes which seemed filled with wisdom.
"We do it for love. All we do, the reason why we fight so hard is because of love. The love we have for our people. That is your why. You must go now," Thalarion whispered. "You have been here long enough."
Panic filled him, washing over him; threatened to drown him in its endless waves. Real genuine anxiety clawed its way into his chest and towards his throat, a rare and sobering emotion especially for someone who had become strong enough to conquer gods.
"But how? I can't see it, I can't see the way out. I don't know how. How do I do it? How do I get out of here? How do I get back to them?" Lukas asked frantically as he looked around.
The Crest was a maze of lives, an ocean of echoes. He had always been able to undo the Crest, return to the real world, to Kairos Castle. But he had spent so long within the Crest that he had ended up losing himself within it. Lukas didn't know the path out, no matter how hard he looked, it remained hidden from him.
"I don't know the way back."
Thalarion didn't answer at first. He simply stepped forward, towering and majestic. And then, softly—so softly it felt like a whisper in the current: "She's waiting for you."
Lukas's breath caught.
"Styx is waiting for you in the other side. Use the Crown," Thalarion said firmly. "It will guide you. Follow her, Lukas Drakos. She is your way back. Don't you remember? She is your anchor."
Lukas closed his eyes, the Crown activating in a halo of blinding light, listening to Thalarion's words. He searched through it all. He searched through the endless storm of memories. And finally, for the first time in what felt like eternity, he felt it—not the tide or the weight of memory, but warmth. The warmth of someone who would not let him go
Trembling, Lukas lifted a hand to the Crown of the Lord. It shone brighter than it ever had before—like the sun submerged beneath the sea. As his fingers touched it, the Crown pulsed, and suddenly the world all around them split apart.
And then—
He saw her. He saw through her eyes. This was no dream. This was not just a memory. He was seeing into the real world through her eyes.
And through the eyes of the Goddess, Lukas saw what himself. He saw what he had become. Before him, there was a beast. A massive, feral, draconic titan raging through Kairos Castle. This was what it meant to be lost to the worlds within the Crest. This was all he had been reduced to. A mindless animal, sanity broken beyond repair. No Lord had ever come back from it.
But Styx had not run from him. She was holding him down, arms glowing with ancient magic as she pinned him to the grounds of the training yard. Lukas realized she was crying, sobbing as she shook her head in despair. She could never bring herself to take his life, not even when he had lost his mind.
"Please..." She whispered.
It had been three hundred and ninety years since Lukas had turned the hourglass over the fourth flip. It had been centuries since Lukas last returned from using the Crest. Yet, through it all, she had been there. She had not given up on him. She had kept her promise. She was his anchor. Styx felt his mind touch hers, she felt his presence and her tears faltered.
"L...Lukas?" She said his name hesitantly, staring at the dragon who thrashed beneath her grip.
"LUKAS!" She screamed. And in that instant, her voice shattered through the layers of memory like a blade through silk. "COME BACK TO ME! PLEASE!"
And Lukas reached for her. He followed the sound of her voice like a lifeline across a chasm. And as he rose, the Lords of old began to appear:
Rodan Drakos, standing atop a crumbling ship of memory, saluting his little brother before cheering for Lukas as he went. He could see Rodan tearing up with pride. The one who had laid out the foundation for Lukas. He owed it all to Rodan. Lukas was going to miss that dragon dearly.
Jaren Drakos, surrounded by illusions of his people as his eyes shone with approval. Even if he had never been present in his life, Lukas could feel the love Lord Jaren had for his son.
Valerion Drakos, standing beside the First Queen of Ilagron Kingdom, grinning at him from ear to ear with his arms crossed.
Even the Monarch, stoic, silent. He met Lukas' gaze and when they did, he gave him a curt nod. Which spoke more words than he could ever say.
And at the very end—
Thalarion Drakos, smiling and whispering the words Lukas would carry for the rest of his life:
"You are the best of us, Little One. Carry our legacy with pride for you are now the true Lord of the Seas."
The great dragon seemed to pause just for a moment as the worlds within the Crest began to fade from Lukas' vision.
"The God of Hiraeth is not our enemy. Remember that." And Lukas stared into Thlarion's eyes. He did not understand what Thalarion meant but he had no time to comprehend them. He would come to understand it one day. But not today.
And then—
They all bowed. All of them. As Lukas soared past, the memories bending, collapsing into stars, into salt, into nothingness—
The dragons that he had come to love, that he had come to hate, that he had spent so much time, all of them bowed to Lukas. Their heir. Their successor. Now, their Lord.
As he followed Styx's voice through the fading veil, the world within the Crest faded out of sight and out of mind. In a flash of brilliant light, Lukas Drakos returned to the real world.