Swaying freely on its chain, the emerald pendant illuminated the glass-dome room with its warm amber-green glow. With it separated from its mysterious captor, it accepted the evening sun's welcoming embrace with glory. And yet, its bright radiance was only second to the gleaming pair of eyes staring up at it ecstatically. The grinning Zaron stood with his good arm raised up to head level as he admired the sight of the familiar jewel, overcome with relief as he weighed it in his grasp. After the trouble and frustration of reclaiming the family heirloom, the large, fulfilled grin displayed on his face was immovable. It was hard to imagine that he almost lost it permanently over a dumb game.
Feeling satisfied with the jewel back in his possession, Zaron proceeded to juggle the pendant's chain. He attempted to latch it around his neck with his workable arm without dropping it by accident. However, his awkward attempts were futile, leaving him grumbling irritably in the process.
Standing beside him with her arms crossed, the feather-winged girl watched on in amusement. On the one hand, she admired the stubborn dedication expressed in his failed attempts, believing it was best not to get involved and let him overcome the struggle. On the other hand, she felt conscious of the time, noticing night was drawing near by the second. With a light-hearted sigh, she stepped over and assist the frustrated Draiken boy.
"Wait, let me put it on for you." She volunteered openly.
However, Zaron stepped back in caution, glaring at the girl warily. With his silent and judging stare, it was evident that the young Draiken had developed trust issues with her as he considered the tricks she pulled on him previously. The girl halted; her eyebrow raised in curious surprise upon witnessing the unexpected reaction. However, as she realised the cause behind his distrust, she smirked back at him.
"No need to fret. I promise I won't steal it." She answered earnestly, holding up both her hands in innocent gesture. "…I swear on my life."
Holding his silence as he considered her assistance, Zaron nodded back in reluctant acceptance. Although he wondered if his current naïveté was due to his mental exhaustion, the Draiken boy felt an odd sense of honesty from the girl's radiant aura. Part of him considered it was due to hearing her voice in an earnest tone resonated with him, whilst another part thought it was because he was a sucker for a pretty face.
The feather-winged girl stepped behind him casually as she hooked the chain around his neck, humming a simple melody to herself to break the tension. At the same time, Zaron fidgeted anxiously, feeling vulnerable to any potential surprise hidden up her sleeve.
However, she kept to her word, showing no hint of alternate intention whatsoever.
"Thanks ... for that." He expressed to the girl in gratitude, soothing the back of his neck as he felt the chain rest against him.
The girl giggled lightly in response, showing off her heavenly smile as she nodded. Zaron grinned back, unable to retain a straight face against the purity that stood before him. He then switched his attention to the many aqueducts flowing freely beneath his feet, watching them trickle peacefully towards their destination. It was impossible to imagine the same, simple waterways would create such magnificent structures.
(How did she do it...?)
"You're wondering: 'How did she do it?!', right?" The girl then assumed abruptly as curiosity illuminated her gaze.
Zaron was caught off-guard by her eerily accurate prediction, conflicted on whether to be impressed or creeped out.
"Y-yeah, you could say that…" He then responded with an anxious chuckle. "But, more importantly ... I don't even know your name."
"Hmm...? I thought I gave you enough hints already." The girl responded in disappointment; her arms crossed whilst showing a mischievous smile. "Maybe you just need to think outside the box a little."
Hearing her advice, the confused yet silent Zaron fell into deep thought, reflecting on the past few hours – from the moment he spoke to Denzo to current time.
In mere seconds, his eyes lit up like reignited embers.
"You're … Enva." He murmured with a staggered expression, his tone falling to a whisper.
"Glad to be of service." The girl – Enva – announced with an ecstatic grin, issuing a gracious bow to Zaron as though introducing herself for the first time. "Although … it would've been great if you caught on sooner."
Zaron stared at her in silence, unable to process the revelation that he was standing before Dragora's mythical Goddess herself.
(So ... Denzo wasn't lying about the rumours?)
The thought of his older brother telling him the truth for once caused the young Draiken to shiver, wondering if he was stuck in a never-ending dream – or nightmare, depending on the perspective.
"Whether you believe me or not is up to you." Enva then sighed out, shrugging her shoulders as she noticed Zaron's uncertainty.
"I'll be honest, it's not every day that I'd expect to cross paths with the Goddess of Dragora." Zaron admitted to her bluntly. "How would I know if you're telling the truth or not?"
"Fair point. I guess our little game wasn't enough to convince you. If you need more proof ... that can be arranged." The Goddess suggested, cupping her chin expressively as she conjured up an idea. "Zaron, would you mind perching yourself on the throne?"
Zaron stepped over to the throne at her request, wary of her intentions. Upon perching himself on the throne's seat, he watched as Enva drifted over to him eagerly. She stood beside his damaged arm, removing the sling considerately and unravelled the firm bandaging that encased the Draiken boy's limb. Zaron winced as she tended to the arm, every movement releasing a surge of pain through the entire limb. He then glanced away as the bandage opened to reveal the extent of the damage, struggling to hold his nerves at the devastating sight.
"I'm assuming this is what you meant by more proof?" Zaron questioned her in a pained mutter, dreading what he assumed would soon follow.
Giving a small nod in response, the silent Enva focused primarily on the arm before her. She brushed her palm lightly over the length of the damaged arm, soothing the surface of the limb as she examined the extent of the injury.
"Ngh?! Nn-GGGRRGH!"
Zaron reacted with a sudden lurch and jolt from his body, almost leaping up from the throne entirely due to the agonizing sensation. He held his ground bitterly, downplaying the level of torment he endured out of sheer stubbornness. Regardless, he proceeded to shudder and yelp with every touch, praying for it to end as soon as possible.
"You could just tell me to stop, you know." Enva suggested to him casually upon noticing his reactions, aware of how uncomfortable he felt.
"Nope! I'm fine. You keep going." Zaron murmured back in rough, broken speech, struggling to conjure a full sentence.
Enva accepted with a subtle nod.
"Okay ... suit yourself."
The proclaimed Goddess stretched out her arms over the damaged limb, her preparations set to commence her healing technique. Zaron leaned back, his jaw clenched, and body tensed as he prepared for the unexpected. He felt some form of regret in complying to her suggestion, wondering why he agreed to a stranger who claims herself to be the 'Goddess' who also attempted to steal the emerald pendant from him over a petty game.
(I'm an idiot...)
"Now, just a quick warning before we begin: you may experience some pain during the recovery process." She cautioned him, her tone turning serious. "Unfortunately, we don't have any painkillers or anaesthetic. So, my suggestion would be: get over it and man up."
"Err, got it…" Zaron nodded back anxiously, alarmed by her shift in tone. "And ... how much pain are we talking about?"
"I would say … the most agonizing experience of your life." She then admitted awkwardly, expressing a hint of guilt.
"W-wait, WHAT-?!"
Zaron almost leapt from his seat upon hearing her words, the colour in his cheeks flushed away abruptly. However, before he even considered changing his mind, Enva locked him down and commenced the healing process.
***
The Forest was its usual peaceful self, enjoying the last of the day's sunset before settling down for the night. The trees rustled as the warm breeze blew through their many branches, the leaves brushing and fighting amongst each other for the last of the sun's rays. The vast array of animals and critters called out to one another as though they were in full conversation, leaping and scurrying amongst the foliage as they returned to their small, cosy habitats.
After the chaotic ordeal between the Draiken boy and the Venxe, the forest was finally able to relax for the night. With his gaze observing the vast landscape casually from his perch on Grand Falcon's Peak, Denzo basked in the ambience whilst he awaited his brother's return.
With Zaron out of the picture, he could relax and appreciate the tranquil view during the falling sunset. He felt all his worries and problems whisked away, believing he was set free from the chains of responsibilities that burdened him. He was so transfixed by the vast scenery that he forgot about the time.
However, without warning, the perfect bliss he craved was cut short unexpectedly.
"...aaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAARRGGHHH!!!"
A loud, deafening scream echoed all throughout the expansive woodland, disturbing every inhabitant throughout the natural vicinity. Some animals scurried off in a sudden fright whilst others stared off curiously towards the direction of the unyielding shriek.
And then, more sickening noises followed.
Click-click-click-CRACK!!! Snap-snap-Crack!
Denzo leapt to his feet in sudden alert as his sights were directed to Selon Anora, recognising the distinctive yell immediately – It was Zaron.
"What's going on over there?"
Denzo grew restless, fearing that he had sent his younger brother to his untimely demise. He paced back-and-forth along the cliff edge, conflicted on whether to fly over and help him or wait for him to return. He then switched to checked the time on his digital-watch:
19:08.
"I'll wait a little longer..." Denzo decided with a forced sigh. An eerie thought then occurred to him, causing him to shiver in dread.
(He missed the deadline ages ago, but ... I think that'll be the last thing on his mind.)
Glancing back towards Selon Anora's observation tower, Denzo waited patiently for any visible sign of his brother. He considered a new deadline in the process: Zaron had thirty minutes to return to Grand Falcon's Peak or Denzo was forced to head home.
A part of him considered searching for Zaron after the new deadline as the harrowing shriek still echoed in his mind. However, he felt an opposition in his mind preventing him from the pursuit, reminding him that it was a chance for Zaron to prove himself.
As he sat down, Denzo gave out a long-winded sigh.
"This better be worth it, Enva."
***
"AAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHH!!!"
Zaron continued to bellow in unfathomable agony, his entire body squirming and jolting reactively whilst his arm erupted to a new level of pain. The young Draiken had never experienced such an unbearable sensation before – even the incident with the Venxe paled in comparison to the insanity he was experiencing currently. He had every desire to bolt out of the room and never return, wishing it all to end. And yet, he forced himself to lock down on the throne, adamant that he would see the recovery through to the end.
Whilst he continued to squirm, Enva was engrossed in restoring Zaron's arm entirely, her eyes darting back-and-forth as she located each break and injury found in the limb. She was tense and focused, refusing to listen to the heart-wrenching shrieks of her patient – no matter the heartache she endured personally in hearing his agonising pain.
"And ... done."
Eventually, Enva was able to complete the restoration, stepping back with her hands on her hips and a triumphant grin gleaming in satisfaction. Zaron gasped out in exhausted relief, able to breath once again after the non-stop roars. His face had turned into a bright shade of red as sweat poured out his slumped body, drifting between reality and the realm of sleep.
"Nngh...!"
The young Draiken then struggled to his feet. He stepped forward and turned to the proclaimed 'Goddess' before him, shaking unbearably from the combination of pain and anger.
"What ... what was THAT?!" He roared out to her in disdain, bearing his fanged whilst stumbling on his words with rage. "You were supposed to heal my arm! Not turn it into damn rubble!!!"
"Ehehehee … AHAHAHAHAA!!!"
Enva burst out into abrupt fits of laughter, hugging her abdomen as she was unable to hold back her amusement. Zaron was lost for words, his eyes wide with shock as he watched her laugh away. It was as though she was playing with his emotions on purpose, experimenting on his patience like a toy.
"Wha-...? What's so funny?!" Zaron demanded furiously, his cheeks flustered immensely at the sense of humiliation.
"M-maybe … eh-heehee...! You should ... l-look before you leap." Enva then suggested in a stammer, attempting to breathe before reverting to her fits of giggles.
Zaron watched her in bewildered confusion, distraught by her odd reaction. However, his eyes then widened as his focus drifted from the girl to his right arm.
Once full of gashes and shattered bones from the crushing impact of the Venxe, his right arm was healed without a trace of injury. It was as though the incident had never occurred in the first place: no bruising, scarring, or any other nicks and bumps whatsoever. The plethora of blood spewing out of the open gashes previously had disappeared like vapour – no trace of red to be seen at all. Taking every measure of caution possible, Zaron worked his newly restored arm with gradual movement. He shifted its joints and muscles, increasing the stretches and twists as confidence returned to him.
There was no pain whatsoever. It was an absolute miracle.
"So, what do you think?" Enva questioned the Draiken boy curiously, stepping up to him with her typical kind smile. "I was able to speed up the recovery process of your arm. Because of the extent of the damages, your arm was a little more complicated to heal than what I anticipated. What I hoped would finish in a matter of seconds ... took a couple of minutes instead."
Zaron was silent, switching back to her as he listened to her explanation on the process.
"But look at that! It was a success!" The feather-winged girl then announced, puffing up her chest in pride. "See ... no more injuries!"
"Yeah..." Zaron murmured in a fluster, struggling to find the words. "T-thank you … Enva."
"Ah! You finally believe me!" The Goddess clapped with joy, catching her name within Zaron's words of gratitude. "You know, I can heal that cut on your face as well if you'd like."
(My face…?)
Zaron glanced at her oddly, wondering if her offer was a joke.
(...Oh, that's right!)
Zaron forgot about the gash on his cheek completely. He was so focused on his damaged arm that he overlooked the cut he received from the mysterious flying rodents, so much so that he felt no lingering sting or throbbing. With his arm now recovered, he took the opportunity to feel his left cheek. As he brushed his fingers over the area of the gash, he noticed instantly that it was covered up with a large, cushioned dressing.
"Sh-...!"
Zaron pulled away abruptly, feeling the recognisable sting sensation that was still fresh from his encounter with the mysterious flock of razor-wings. He considered the thought of healing the cut – knowing it would only leave a scar if left untreated. On the other hand, he was still recovering from the excruciating pain from his healed arm, the limb twitching reactively to the thought.
Understandably, he was reluctant to experience such an ordeal again.
"Thanks, but ... don't worry about it. I think I'll just let this one recover naturally." He declined hesitantly, waving off the offer.
"Are you sure? It might not be as bad as your arm, but that cut is still deep." Enva insisted, approaching him worriedly. "It'll only scar up otherwise."
"I'm sure I can live with it." Zaron assured her cheerfully, grinning awkwardly in response. "Maybe the scar will look convincing on me when it's fully mended. Ha-ha-haa...!"
Enva let out a silent sigh, knowing that Zaron's attempt on light humour was merely a sign of desperation. She could tell that he was avoiding the recovery process, the torment he endured from his healed arm refusing to leave his mind. And yet, he seemed ignorant to the fact that the process for his cheek would be far less excruciating and would only take a second to process. In the end, Enva yielded on the attempt to persuade him, aware that he was set on his choice.
"If that's the choice you're willing to take, what right do I have in telling you otherwise?" The Goddess then shrugged in defeat.
Zaron felt relief pass through his mind, free from the overbearing dread of repeating the unbearable experience. His curious eye then glanced over to the Goddess before him, feeling a looming desire to speak his mind. Enva noticed him eyeing her and fidgeting on the spot awkwardly, curious to hear what was on the boy's mind.
"For a Goddess, you seem very … enthusiastic." Zaron admitted to her, struggling to find the right words.
"Oh? So, you've noticed." Enva grinned back cheekily. "Us deities are given a bad rep for being dull and monotonous. However, the public tend to neglect the fact that we were also living amongst the mortal at some point during our long lives."
"I see ... That makes sense." Zaron nodded in response, understanding her point of view.
And then, he caught onto the reveal of her once being 'amongst the mortal'. He grew curious, pursuing to ask for more details.
"Wha-...?"
However, Enva cut him off obliviously before he could ask, falling into a frustrated tangent in the process.
"You may scoff at the idea, but us deities have a lot of time on our hands." Enva admitted as she started her long-restrained rant. "All we really do is observe the world from our bubble. We never interact with anyone; we never go out to enjoy life's splendours; we can't even take time off for a break: we just sit and watch from afar twenty-four seven. So, we need to entertain ourselves sometimes ... otherwise we'll lose our minds."
"That sounds ... unbearable."
Zaron continued to listen, commenting in truth as he was unable to imagine staring into the abyss of the world for thousands of years without rest. Enva nodded satisfactory before her expression turned solemn.
"Yet, if I were to ever leave Selon Anora…"
Zaron felt his ears perk up on the Goddess' last words, just as she trailed off into an inaudible murmur. At the same time, Enva switched her sights to the far window behind the throne, overlooking the far line of the horizon with a blank stare. The Draiken boy watched as she stepped over to the window glass gradually, taken aback by the sudden change of atmosphere within the dome.
...Step.
Vroosh!
In that moment – as though triggered by Enva's last step, a swarm of darkness engulfed the outside world. Zaron stumbled back in abrupt fright, his eyes widened and mouth agape as he witnessed the dark swarm engulf the entire dome.
At first, the entire swarm was a simple blur to him, circling the dome at supersonic speeds. However, his eyes soon adjusted to the change in visibility, realising the cause of the phenomenon within seconds. The swarm contained hundreds – if not thousands – of the razor-winged creatures he had encountered previously whilst ascending the tower's spiral staircase. They seemed oblivious to his position, the screeches and echoes consuming the atmosphere as though they were in mid-conversation.
Zaron's sights then switched over to Enva, who stood motionless and calm as she observed them circling the dome. A dim yet distinctive white glow was seen outlining her figure and feathered wings – an aspect to her that was non-existent in the bright daylight.
"What … are those things?" Zaron questioned hesitantly, his heart racing at the sight of these creatures above.
"They're known as the Ptarro. – nocturnal creatures only introduced to the world recently. They're still unknown to Dragora as a native species, so any information on their habits is still undocumented." Enva informed him nonchalantly, her eyes fixated on the swarm above as she spoke. "If anything, ... the credit to their discovery falls on your shoulders."
Zaron stared on as he froze in place, the hairs on his back standing on end as he was left in internal conflict. A part of him felt honoured to be claimed as the discoverer of the Ptarro, whilst another part of him was still overcome with the trauma of his deathly encounter. Noticing his mixed reaction, the amused Enva decided to inform him of the flying rodents' unique traits.
"I guess it's worth mentioning a few facts about the creatures: the Ptarro severely lack the ability of sight and are reliant on sound waves to navigate the environment; they're always flying in a colony, regardless of if they're hunting for a meal or migrating to a new home; and finally, they also have a keen sense of smell."
Zaron's eyes lowered silently to his recovered arm, his hand twitching as his mind connected the dots.
"That's right, they have a particular fondness for blood." Enva confirmed, her gaze veering to the gash in his cheek. "The moment the Ptarro capture the blood-scent of their prey, they will hunt down and swarm without a second thought. They'll slice ... and slice ... and slice ... until they're satisfied enough to feed."
Zaron gulped anxiously.
(That was almost me...)
"The fact that you were able to outwit the swarm earlier was nothing short of astonishing." The Goddess then followed in compliment, reflecting on the encounter from her point-of-view. "Anyone watching your miraculous performance as you threw yourself out that window would think you've gone mad. Regardless ... you committed to it and prevailed."
"I … don't think the reminder is necessary." Zaron murmured disapprovingly, wishing to avoid the discussion entirely.
Finally, the Ptarro finished circling the dome and flew off into the distance, revealing the last remains of the dim sunset. And then, as he noticed her reflection from the window, Zaron noticed a sharp shift in the atmosphere surrounding the Goddess. He watched her curiously as a serious expression appeared on her, causing him to question what was on her mind.
"Zaron .... I have a favour to ask of you." She then revealed, her complete tonal shift feeling as though she was a separate person entirely. "Would you kindly hear me out?"
"A favour ... of me?" Zaron echoed back blankly. "Sure ... I'll hear you out."
(It's not like I'm short on time anyway...)
"Thank you." Enva acknowledged in gratitude before proceeding to explain herself. "As you've most likely gathered already: I've been observing you ever since you fell from Grand Falcon's Peak. From there, I monitored your progress to Selon Anora and how you dealt with your encounters."
The last sentence caught Zaron's attention.
(Hold on ... was she assessing me?)
"Truth be told, your scuffle with the Venxe had me sitting at the edge of my throne from start to finish." The Goddess continued to recollect, her tone devolving into a fanatic spectator as she spoke. "The fact that you held your own against the beast of that size – well … mostly – was unbelievable. And the chase with the Ptarro was another level entirely! I never would have thought of throwing myself out the window like that – seeing as the chances of that idea succeeding was slim-to-none – but you pulled it off regardless! If you had hesitated for another second – well ... I'm sure you know what would've happened."
(Dammit! She WAS assessing me!)
"If anything, I can certainly say you've gained a new admirer." She concluded with an elated smile.
"Eh-heh-heh...! W-what can I say? I guess the thought of being ripped apart or pummelled to death gave me the adrenaline I needed." Zaron shrugged with a distant chuckle, the inner turmoil still fresh in his mind. "…Oh, and the sheer amount of dumb luck was a likely factor."
"Are you sure luck was the reason, though?" Enva then questioned him curiously, acting unconvinced upon eyeing the Draiken boy. "Was it luck that influenced the Venxe to attack you head on? Was it luck that forced the Ptarro out from their slumber to chase you down?"
Zaron's eyes shot open immediately, a cold shiver crawling up his spine as he realised the true meaning behind her vague words.
Upon witnessing the sharp change in expression, Enva's eyes lowered. She fell quiet as a sense of guilt broke through.
"…You set me up." Zaron murmured underneath his breath, a hint of disdain rising in his tone. "You didn't just observe me, you placed me in those situations to satisfy your boredom!"
"That's ... not entirely true." Enva corrected swiftly, her calm expression as firm as stone.
"Oh...? So, what did I miss?" Zaron pursued irritably, demanding answers.
At this point, he had no care of who stood before him. He was furious. He felt as though he was used as a simple toy to her, needing only an hour's worth of entertainment before discarding him after she had her fill. Understanding his frustrations, the Goddess standing before him then drew in a deep breath and proceeded to answer him bluntly.
"I was testing you."
Zaron halted from speaking another word, his cold expression as solid as stone.
(She was ... 'testing' me?)
He struggled to process her answer, feeling as though he required more context – a request Enva was happy to provide.
"Everything you've endured throughout your small journey were trials I devised to assess your skills – all purposed to determine whether you were eligible to fulfil my request." She explained thoroughly, leaving no stone unturned. "The confrontation with the Venxe was to prove your physical prowess and resilience to high-risk confrontations; The chase with the Ptarro was to prove your swift agility and dynamic thinking during life-threatening conditions; And finally, our game of perception was to test your mental stability and willingness to complete your goal: all were passed with flying colours, of course."
As she spoke, Enva watched the speechless Draiken boy emote a mixture of expressions – ranging from his previous disgust to hidden intrigue and consideration.
"I understand that this is a lot to take in." The Goddess admitted consciously, struggling to read him. "However, the task I've set for you will go beyond what you've experienced these past few hours. It'll require actions that will likely change and define you, Zaron. It may even kill you if you're not prepared. I couldn't allow you to pursue such a task blindly – at least, not without understanding what you'll likely be up against."
"…And what is this oh-so death-defying task?" Zaron muttered lowly, his breath quivering slightly as he avoided eye-contact.
A slight cast of hope dashed Enva's mind as she heard his question, knowing she still had a chance to win him over.
"I require you to venture forth and restore the severed bonds between Dragora and Humesa..." She answered, her glare sharp and tense as she awaited his response. "...And bring back Xaphire to its former glory."
Zaron stood his ground, his expression frozen and unreadable upon hearing her request. He was well-aware of the history that cursed the relationship between the two major nations of Xaphire – more-so than most of his age. He could recite the stages of the relationship's development off-by-heart: how the relationship was established initially with the two adventurers; how their bond thrived for centuries regardless of the obstacles and set-backs; and the eventual turmoil that caused the nations to break their bond and declare war.
To Zaron, knowing the depths of Xaphire's history was a curse that he would prefer to avoid. However, the same uncharacteristic trait was inevitable with his family's close connection to the entire debacle. His father was considered a 'War-Hero' within Dragora, his valiant efforts during the war were still discussed and praised twenty years on. His mother was equally well-respected, known by many as the 'High-Rise Mercenary' in reference for her fearful nature and the executions of her enemies who suffered by her hand. As a combination, they were ruthless and unstoppable – or so the history books and plethora of post-war biographies suggested.
Shifting back to the main topic, both the Dragora and Humesa factions had dealt considerable damage to the other during the brutal war: casualties of warriors and innocence alike decorated the numerous battlefields; once thriving towns and villages were decimated as the local inhabitants were left homeless, starving, and vulnerable; and many resources that were once plentiful had dried out and had yet to fully recover. For most, it was a time of eternal fear and dread, whilst certain individuals simply made it a blood-sport. And then there were the results of the war – or lack thereof.
The war never ended. It just stopped. Both nations were left bitter and refusing to see through their own ignorance to find a compromise. Instead, both sides applied numerous levels of safeguards and barriers against one another, closing off all connections and access to their respective lands indefinitely. Furthermore, communications and lingering relations were cut off entirely, forever closing off any possibility to re-establish links with the opposing nation.
During the initial aftermath in Dragora, the nation had fallen into a state of calamity. The resources that were outsourced from Humesa had diminished exponentially, leaving the nation to scrape by with what little remains they had left whilst attempting to find viable alternatives to cope with the shortages. These resources ranged from previously easy-to-access materials that were critical components for current technology; to supplies of consumables such as food and medication; to even unexpected luxuries such as clothing and footwear of specific fabrics: all were reduced within mere moments – some even disappearing entirely. All-in-all, Dragora's progression as a society and technological advancement had slowed to a crawl.
Shifting back to present day, Dragora had opted for the safe and secure approach to living, using every feasible measure possible to return to a sense of normality. Eventually, the nation was able to perfect their standards of living, adjusting and shifting their expectations accordingly to fit with societies new limitations. And yet, Dragora continued to struggle in technological advancement and cultural progression, still craving the components and materials they once took for granted all those years ago.
Through all these adjustments and changes, the most staggering switch from the norm was Dragora's desire to explore and expand as a thriving species. The years that followed the war, there was never a time where Draiken would venture out and risk themselves to break away from their stagnant condition. The species as a collective had fallen into a state of laziness and cowardice, hesitant to experience new and revolutionary discoveries waiting to be unearthed.
The very mind-set plagued Dragora as a nation, sending its society down a spiral of stagnation and boredom – craving for more. They were desperate to break out of the chains that restrained their potential for new experiences, searching for any possibility to experience new evolution in Draiken culture. Small groups of individuals even desired the opportunity to request assistance from Humesa, hoping to patch up the rift that ruptured the two once-thriving nations. And yet, such possibilities were rendered impossible in its current state. Dragora as a nation – including those who governed the nation directly – refused to restore itself to its former glory. Governing bodies brushed off any likelihood of reconnecting with Humesa, ignoring the pleas of the public out of sheer resentment and pride.
All was fresh on Zaron's mind as he considered the Goddess Enva's request thoroughly, sending him into a deep, silent thought in the process.
"Zaron, would you please accept this task?" Enva pleaded sincerely, bowing her head in respect. "I know it's a heavy undertaking. I know it'll place a heavy burden on your shoulders. And I cannot stress enough of the trials and tribulations you'll end up facing along the way. However, I feel – no … I believe – that you are more than capable of succeeding in this mission. I wouldn't have set those challenges on you if it wasn't the case."
And with those last words, the silent Zaron stepped forward. With everything that was presented to him; the challenges he had to overcome to reach Selon Anora; and the unpredictability of the future: there was no denying how difficult it was to accept her request. He paced the room as he pondered his answer, his arms crossed as he summarised the entire ordeal.
"So ... let me get this straight. Within one afternoon: I was thrown off a cliff by my brother; I was almost crushed by a Venxe; I was almost sliced up by a flock of Ptarro; I almost had my family's pendant stolen by a mad woman claiming to be the 'Goddess'; and now here I am being asked by said 'Goddess' to take on a world-changing quest that'll likely get me killed at some point." He reflected openly, ticking off a list in his head.
"...Was there anything I forgot to mention?"
"You're also on the clock..." Enva added quietly, glancing away as she was unable to meet his gaze.
"Oh, that's right...! How could I forget?!" The Draiken boy then yelled out furiously, his anger beyond boiling point as he recalled the reason he had rushed to Selon Anora in the first place. "Tsk...! I bet Denzo is already back home snitching to Mum."
Enva watched Zaron vent, waiting patiently for the definite answer. Her eyes followed Zaron's circling pace through the drooping lines of her platinum hair, caution set firmly in her mind as she expected the outcome. From every indication shown in Zaron's mannerisms and thought process, Enva's assumption was that he would deny her request. Much to her discretion and dread, she would understand the decision.
However, her ears perked up abruptly as Zaron spoke his next words.
"Well … why should I turn back now?"
As Enva raised her head, she noticed Zaron meeting her gaze with a confident grin, his entire attitude reversed without warning.
"If it means changing the world for the better ... then I accept."