Far out at sea, a massive naval fleet formed a blockade, their ships lined up in an imposing barrier. Beyond them, a vast, flat ice floe was anchored to the ocean floor. The surrounding waters were eerily still, and an unnatural quiet settled over the scene as the crew awaited the emergence of the nation's guardian, Yalzeruth.
The air was thick with emotion fear, excitement, and anticipation. A few naval officers, their sea-blue eyes glowing with reverence, gathered at the sides of their ships facing the ice floe. Above, military airships hovered alongside a variety of flying spiritual beasts ridden by Air Force members, forming an aerial blockade in defense of Brittannor.
A group of navy crew members huddled together, their voices low but tinged with awe.
"Can you believe it? We're about to see Yalzeruth," one sailor whispered, his eyes wide with a mix of terror and thrill. "The last time it surfaced was during the Empress's coronation."
An officer nearby nodded, his face serious. "It's been decades. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event."
As they spoke, a subtle disturbance rippled through the water. The crew fell silent, their eyes fixed on the massive ice floe. The tension hung thick in the air, each second stretching into eternity.
Suddenly, the surface of the water erupted in frothy turmoil. All eyes turned to the ice floe as a colossal, winged forelimb shattered through its surface. With a powerful and graceful emergence, Yalzeruth rose from the depths. Its sleek, streamlined body glistened in the midday sunlight, awe-inspiring in its sheer size. The dragon's elongated head, crowned with icy, crystalline horns, broke free from the ice, followed by its muscular, agile limbs.
Yalzeruth's wings were vast and bat-like, supported by long, finger-like bones. Its tail, ending in webbed, fin-like extensions, sliced through the water with ease. Covered in smooth, iridescent scales, the dragon shimmered in deep blue, turquoise, and silver hues, resembling moonlight dancing on a frozen sea. Its lighter, pearl-blue underbelly reflected the arctic waters, adding to its ethereal presence. The dragon's glowing, icy-blue eyes swirled like frozen whirlpools, and its sharp, icicle-like fangs glinted with frost. A crown of jagged, crystal-like horns ran from its head to its tail, refracting light and giving Yalzeruth an otherworldly aura.
As Yalzeruth fully emerged onto the ice, its immense size dwarfed every structure the crew had ever seen. The once sunny skies shifted to a gentle snowfall, adding to the surreal scene. The dragon extended its massive wings, casting a vast shadow over the ocean. At the sight of this movement, the Navy Marshal, standing at the bow of one of the ships, swiftly relayed orders to prepare for the aftermath. Meanwhile, the Air Force Marshal, mounted on a tremendous Deep Grey Eagle, issued commands for his forces to brace for Yalzeruth's ascent.
As they waited in tense anticipation, the surrounding area began to feel unnaturally warm. The snowfall ceased, and steam started to rise from Yalzeruth's body. A moment of stillness followed, as if time itself had paused. Then, with a single, powerful movement, Yalzeruth launched into the sky. The force of its takeoff unleashed a gale so strong that the wind magi of the Air Force had to create shields to protect themselves, while the sea-water magi shielded the ships from the dragon's powerful wingbeats. As Yalzeruth ascended, it let out an ear-piercing roar that echoed across the sea.
After Yalzeruth ascended, the Air Marshal issued a swift order: "Form arrow formation."
In perfect synchrony, all Imperial Air Force officers broke away from the blockade formation. With precision, they maneuvered into an extended arrowhead shape as they began their journey back to Brittannor, their flying beasts and airships moving in flawless unison.
As Yalzeruth's mighty roar echoed across the skies, it reverberated all the way to Brittannor, where the distant sound reached Heritage Park, mingling with the excited chatter of those gathered for the military parade. Cynthia, seated beneath a large tree, tilted her head at the noise, momentarily distracted from the conversation she was having with her aunt Seren.
"Well, my dear, we are in a very good spot to continue watching the parade. Would you like to remain here or move closer to the streets?" Seren asked. Cynthia gazed into the distant sky. "I believe it would be an excellent idea to stay where we are," she replied, turning her attention back to Seren. "But Aunt Seren, will you be able to see all of it?"
"Thanks to my years of honing my abilities," Seren said, using her fingers to air-quote, "I can use my wind for echolocation, which gives me a highly detailed sense of my surroundings. The only downside is that I sadly do not perceive color the same way you do."
Cynthia then asked, "Aunt Seren, how did younger you come up with the idea to use echolocation to see?"
To this, Seren responded softly, "It was a gift that made it possible. Before that gift, I was not really able to do much of anything. Do you remember Vesh?" Cynthia nodded. "Well, it was your father who gave me Vesh as a mount, and over time, I learned to mimic Vesh until here I am now," Seren said fondly.
"Oh, so the Vampid Bat was your inspiration," Cynthia said, and Seren nodded in agreement.
The distant sound of trumpets echoed through the air, accompanied by the steady rhythm of drums and the heavy thud of marching boots. Cynthia looked around and noticed that everyone had turned their attention to the streets, where rows of people lined both sides, their shouts of joy and hand-held flags waving in celebration.
As the parade marched on, all eyes were fixed on the streets, where the Empress herself led the procession, seated atop a magnificent Gallanor horse. The creature was a sight to behold, its coat a shimmering silvery grey, almost ethereal in the sunlight. Known for their might and fearsome presence, Gallanor horses were the leaders of all horse clans, and this one, with its powerful build and proud stance, exemplified their regal lineage. Its mane flowed like liquid silver, and its sharp, intelligent eyes gleamed with an almost supernatural awareness.
The Empress, astride the noble beast, was a commanding figure. Her deep navy-blue tunic, embroidered with golden thread, bore the empire's crest a black dragon clutching a golden crown centered proudly over her heart. Draped over her shoulders was a long, structured jacket with gold epaulets, shimmering in the sunlight, while a crimson sash crossed her chest, marking her noble lineage.
Her fitted trousers disappeared into knee-high, polished black boots, and the rhythmic sound of the horse's hooves echoed through the street with each powerful step. A rich, velvet cape, lined with silver fur, flowed behind her, secured by ornate golden clasps shaped like the empire's emblem the black dragon and its crown.
The Empress's headdress, a regal fusion of a tiara and an officer's cap crowned her brow. Its delicate gems sparkled with the same brilliance as the medals and insignias adorning her chest, while a short veil drifted gracefully behind her.
As her Gallanor horse moved forward, the parade followed in perfect rhythm, the Empress a living embodiment of strength and elegance, her mount an emblem of the empire's unyielding power.
The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as the Empress led the procession down the wide avenue, riding atop her regal Gallanor horse. The air around her seemed to thrum with power, the sheer presence of the Gallanor beast sending ripples of awe through the crowd. Every step of its massive hooves resonated through the streets, its silver-grey coat gleaming like polished metal in the sun. Behind her, the Crown Princess followed closely, mounted on a younger Gallanor, their clan's pride. The Empress and her daughter moved as one, their silhouettes a symbol of strength and unity.
Just behind them, the Field Marshal and Countess Alexandria, the Empress's Chief Guard, rode in tandem atop horses of the Kezmar clan. These steeds, slightly smaller than the towering Gallanor, were formidable in their own right, their glossy black coats glistening with the sweat of battle-hardened creatures. The Field Marshal, clad in his dark, gilded uniform, held an air of unyielding command, while Countess Alexandria's sharp gaze scanned the crowd, her armor gleaming beneath the sun as she rode with calculated precision. Behind them, rank after rank, soldiers followed, their synchronized steps reverberating through the city like the heartbeat of the empire.
The sight was breathtaking. Thousands of troops marched past, their armor shining under the brilliant sky, banners billowing as they carried the emblem of the empire—the black dragon clutching the golden crown. The citizens cheered, their voices rising in waves of excitement as the ground trembled beneath the boots of the soldiers and the hooves of the mighty steeds.
As hundreds of soldiers passed, the atmosphere subtly shifted as a new formation of troops emerged. Their uniforms were distinct a deep navy blue, trimmed with silver, their collars high and crisp, reflecting the discipline of the empire's naval forces. Cynthia's keen eye caught the change, and she leaned slightly toward Seren, acknowledging the new presence. "The naval soldiers," she noted, as they marched with precision. Their uniforms were adorned with small insignias denoting their rank, and their boots were polished to perfection, glinting in the sunlight. As they moved in perfect unison, the sea-blue sashes tied around their waists fluttered slightly with each step.
The rhythm of the march continued, but now a new group caught Cynthia's attention. Opal, ever observant, whispered to her, "It seems it's time for the Air Force, young miss." The soldiers wore light, sky-colored uniforms designed for agility, their gear sleek and aerodynamic. Helmets adorned with wings and light blue cloaks billowed behind them as they marched, their chests emblazoned with the emblem of the empire. Each soldier carried equipment that allowed for rapid deployment into the skies, their belts lined with various flight tools and small winged pins fastened to their collars.
As the Air Force soldiers advanced, the sky above them erupted in a spectacular display. A formation of massive winged salamanders soared overhead in a perfect arrow formation, each one as large as two horses. Their scales shimmered in hues of electric blue, fiery red, deep emerald green, icy white, and golden yellow. The creatures, elemental in nature, released vibrant jet streams of fire, ice, lightning, and wind, coordinating their release in a mesmerizing pattern that painted the sky in streaks of color. The crowd gasped in awe as the dazzling display unfolded above them, a testament to the coordination and power of the empire's aerial forces.
Leading the formation of winged salamanders above them was a great grey eagle, majestic and formidable. Perched on its back was the Air Marshal, a figure of imposing authority. Clad in a fitted sky-blue uniform adorned with silver insignia, he exuded a confidence that matched the eagle's might. His keen gaze scanned the procession, reflecting the sharp intelligence and tactical acumen that had earned him his rank. A sweeping cloak fluttered behind him, echoing the powerful wings of the eagle as it soared.
Suddenly, the air grew warmer, a subtle shift that made everyone pause and look upward. Far above, a colossal shadow began to stretch across the city, darkening the streets despite the sun shining brightly. All eyes lifted toward the sky, where the great guardian, Yalzeruth, approached, its enormous wings casting a vast shadow over the capital. Though it was high above, its presence was undeniable. The crowd watched in breathless wonder as Yalzeruth glided across the heavens, its scales shimmering in deep iridescent hues, its roar echoing through the streets like thunder. The dragon released a powerful jet stream of wind, scattering clouds in its wake as it majestically passed overhead, casting its protective gaze upon the city below.
The citizens erupted in cheers, their voices rising in celebration of the magnificent sight. The sheer size and majesty of Yalzeruth were reminders of the empire's strength and the guardianship that watched over them from the skies. As the dragon disappeared into the distance, its shadow slowly receded and so did the warmth that came along with it, the sound of marching soldiers and clattering hooves once again filled the streets, grounding the awe-inspiring spectacle that had just passed.
The last of the soldiers marched by, their faces stern and focused, signaling the conclusion of the parade. The crowd, still buzzing with excitement, began to disperse, the air thick with the lingering sense of pride and anticipation. The day's festivities were far from over, but the grandeur of the parade left a lasting imprint on all who had witnessed it.