Perched on a rocky ledge overlooking the cascading waterfall, his glowing white eyes fixed on the shimmering pool below. The faint mist rose like a veil, catching the sunlight and creating faint rainbows that danced on the air. The scene was peaceful, but his thoughts churned with complexity. The Dragontongue had revealed much about water, but it had also opened the door to questions he had never considered before.
Mana.
The word itself had always been instinctual, an intrinsic part of dragonkind's being. Yet, what it truly meant had remained elusive. Dragons consumed it, used it, hoarded it within themselves and their territories, but the essence of mana—the why and how—had never been questioned. Now, with the visions from the ruins fresh in his mind and his recent experiment with water mana still echoing in his thoughts, Drakaryn felt compelled to unravel its mysteries.
Drakaryn began by separating the familiar from the enigmatic. Mana and vitality—two terms often intertwined in dragonkind's lore—served distinct purposes. Vitality was straightforward: the raw life force harvested from the living. When Drakaryn devoured a Thornhorn, its vitality fed his body, repairing wounds and fueling his relentless growth. Vitality was the energy of survival, finite and tied to living things.
Mana, however, was everywhere. It flowed through the beasts he hunted, but also through the water he drank, the air he breathed, and the soil beneath his claws. It was an omnipresent energy, subtle yet potent, influencing all things without being confined to life itself. Drakaryn's experiments with water mana confirmed this. The mana in the pool hadn't come from a living creature; it had been drawn from the water itself.
This realization deepened his understanding of dragon society. Strength among dragons was measured not only by size and vitality but by the mana they commanded. The elders had always emphasized the importance of claiming and defending mana-rich territories, especially during the exile. It wasn't just about survival—it was about power. A dragon's ability to gather and wield mana determined their position during the migration and their success in the mating season.
As Drakaryn stared into the pool, his thoughts turned to the nature of mana itself. If it existed in everything, then surely it wasn't all the same. His experience with water mana had been distinct—fluid, adaptive, soothing. Yet, the mana he had felt in the dense jungle, in the glowing veins of metal within caves, and even in the volcanic rivers of Myrdrak Vale had been different.
Drakaryn closed his eyes, focusing on the whispers of the Dragontongue that had lingered in his mind since the ruins. The Tongue was a key, not just to creation but to understanding. He listened, not with his ears but with his being, allowing the symphony of sounds to guide him.
There were patterns within the mana, layered and interconnected. The whispers hinted at four primary forces, distinct yet intertwined, forming the foundation of all mana:
Fire: The mana of heat and transformation, found in the molten rivers of the earth and the blazing sunlight above. It was aggressive, consuming, and vital for growth and destruction alike.
Water: The mana of flow and adaptability, present in the rivers, lakes, and rains that nourished the land. It carried life but could also erode and destroy.
Earth: The mana of stability and endurance, rooted in the soil, rocks, and metals. It was the foundation of strength and resilience, unmoving yet full of potential.
Air: The mana of movement and change, found in the winds and storms. It was freedom and chaos, carrying whispers of distant lands and the promise of new beginnings.
Everything else—wood, metal, ice, lightning—was a combination of these roots, a blend of their essences. Drakaryn's claws flexed against the rock as the realization struck him. The Dragontongue didn't just name these forces—it embodied them. Each syllable of the Tongue contained layers of meaning, concepts woven together like threads in a tapestry. The word for fire wasn't just fire; it was transformation, heat, destruction, and renewal, all bound into a single utterance.
This insight carried profound implications. Dragons didn't just consume mana; they aligned with it. A dragon's affinity to these primary forces could shape their power, their growth, and their dominion. The molten rivers of Myrdrak Vale had nurtured the fire affinity of many of the elders, their breath scorching and their bodies resilient against heat. Meanwhile, the dense forests of the Valtheris Expanse seemed to foster earth and water affinities, granting their inhabitants unparalleled stamina and adaptability.
The exile wasn't just a test of survival. It was a trial of understanding, a chance for each dragon to discover their affinity and learn to wield it. Drakaryn glanced at his claws, the faint glow of mana pulsing beneath his opalescent scales. If he could grasp the nature of mana itself, if he could align with it through the Dragontongue, he wouldn't just survive the exile—he would dominate it.
But such knowledge came with a price. The Dragontongue demanded comprehension, total and uncompromising. To speak it was to risk one's very being. Drakaryn had seen this firsthand when he crystallized the water mana in the pool. The momentary success had drained him, leaving him trembling with exhaustion. He needed to proceed carefully, to build his understanding layer by layer, much like water itself.
Drakaryn rose from his perch, his wings unfurling as he gazed out over the jungle. The Valtheris Expanse stretched endlessly before him, a land brimming with mana in all its forms. Every stream, every mountain, every gust of wind carried lessons waiting to be learned. He would need to explore it all—to seek out the fiery mana of the volcanic plains, the steadfast earth mana hidden in ancient caverns, and the wild air mana carried on the storms.
His claws clenched, his resolve hardening. If mana was the essence of all things, then to command it was to command reality itself. The Dragontongue wasn't just a language; it was a map, a guide to unlocking the deepest truths of the world.
Drakaryn spread his wings and leapt into the sky, the winds carrying him toward the horizon. The Expanse awaited, and with it, the answers he sought. He would delve into the nature of mana, layer by layer, until he could speak its essence into being. And when the migration began, he would return not just as a dragon but as a master of the very forces that shaped their world.