The Blue Mage Raised by Dragons

by Virlyce

  “It felt nice,” Vur said and nodded. The pope’s smile widened. Vur snorted. “But it’s not for me.”

  The pope’s face froze. “Ah, truly regrettable,” he said and nodded. His gaze passed over the six winners once more. “All of you are welcome to join us at any time.”

  “Is it over?” Lillian asked as she bit her lip. “That was the blessing?”

  The pope shook his head. “That was just a simple scan spell. Each of you will enter one of the rooms”—he gestured towards the doors behind himself—“for your blessing. I cannot accompany any of you.” The yellow cloud split into six streams of smoke and flowed through the doors behind the pope. The winners exchanged glances with each other except for Vur who had already started walking towards a door when the cloud split. The doors closed behind the six without a sound once they entered the rooms.

  Vur tensed as the yellow smoke swirled around his body before it rushed to the center of the room, condensing into a humanoid figure. A man’s face formed, but the rest of the body remained as smoke.

  The man clicked his tongue. “You have a very unique body,” he said. “We’re not quite sure whose blessing you should receive.” The face disappeared, but it was soon replaced by a woman’s.

  “You have a tremendous amount of mana and physical strength,” the woman said and sighed. “If only I had as much strength as you did…” The face blurred as it was replaced by another woman.

  “What’s your preferred weapon?” the new woman asked Vur.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Vur said. “Anything I can hit or stab with.”

  “You’ve never had formal training in any discipline?” the woman asked as she raised an eyebrow. Vur shook his head. “That’s a surprise. The other people you came with were all well-trained.”

  Vur shrugged and crossed his arms. “I’m different.”

  The woman chuckled. “Yes, we could tell. You’re the first person who hasn’t kneeled to us after witnessing our splendor. Ah, this is truly difficult.”

  “What kind of blessings do you give?” Vur asked. “Can you just give me a list to choose from?”

  The woman’s face was replaced by a mustached man’s. “Insolence!” the man said as his mustache flared upwards. “We tailor fit our blessings to each individual. This isn’t a food stand where you can pick and choose what you want!”

  ***

  The pope smiled as a stream of smoke flew out of a room. The volume of smoke was similar to the amount that entered. The door opened and Roy stepped out.

  “What blessing did the spirits grant you?” the pope asked.

  Roy smiled as a circular rune appeared on his forehead. He held out his hand and a yellow orb floated above his palm before lengthening until it became a staff. “They said it would amplify my spells’ effects and decrease the amount of mana it takes to cast them,” he said as he admired the etchings on the staff. The pope nodded his head.

  Another stream of smoke flew out of a different room. This time, only half of the volume that entered appeared. The door opened and Michelle stepped out. The pope’s body tensed before his smile widened. 50%, he thought. They used half the energy to bless her.

  Three more streams of smoke appeared, and Rudolph, Trent, and Lillian returned to the altar room. Lillian conjured a bow and arrow in a similar manner as Roy. Tears appeared in the corners of her eyes as the bow pulsed in her hand.

  “We’re just waiting for one more,” the pope said as he gestured at Vur’s door, “and then the party will be complete.”

  Ten minutes passed with everyone testing their new blessings. “Should it be taking this long, Father?” Michelle asked.

  The pope frowned and shook his head. “No. Usually a spirit takes interest in someone and forms themselves with the smoke to grant their inheritance. That’s what happened with all of you, right?”

  The group members nodded. Lillian paced back and forth as another ten minutes passed. “Can we open the door and check on him? What if something happened?”

  “We can’t. Only the spirits can open the doors,” the pope said. “I’m sure nothing—” The door opened, causing the pope to stop mid-sentence. The spirits used all the energy? he thought as Vur entered the altar room.

  Vur burped. A wisp of smoke, shaped like a mustache, slipped out from under his mask and rose into the air. The six people before him stared at the mustached-shaped smoke wisp as it floated towards the ceiling.

  Lillian’s mouth dropped open. “You ate a god?” she asked. “What the actual fu—”

  Vur burped again, and another wisp of smoke leaked out of his mask. “Excuse me,” he said and cleared his throat. “I didn’t eat him on purpose. He just kinda got swallowed. And it was just part of him, right?”

  “I-I don’t understand,” the pope said with a pale face. “What have you done!?” His eyes widened as his hands grabbed the sides of his head.

  “Isn’t he still there?” Vur asked as he pointed at the ceiling. The cloud of smoke condensed and pressed itself into a corner. Vur scratched his head. Was it scared of him?

  “How dare you!” The pope roared as a white rune shone on his forehead. A ball of light emerged from his hand and took the shape of a two-handed battleaxe. A silver light rushed up his arms, solidifying as it traveled to his shoulders. “Even death cannot pardon you for what you’ve done!” His irises disappeared as his eyes glowed with a yellow light. He braced himself to swing.

  “Dad! Wait!” Michelle yelled as she ran towards Vur. The pope swept his axe to the side, knocking Michelle over with sheer wind pressure. She tumbled along the ground and stopped when she crashed into the wall.

  “Shatter!” the pope shouted. His loose white robes disintegrated as a wave of heat poured out of his body. Cracks formed in the air, distorting the axe’s image as it swung downwards towards Vur. Vur shifted his body back, dodging by a hair’s breadth. The pope bared his teeth as the axe slammed into the ground, creating a web of fissures that radiated outwards.

  Vur tilted his head. A second later, his masks shattered into pieces, revealing his golden eyes. The ring that saved his life in the nagas’ arena more than ten years ago split in half and dropped to the floor. Lust’s blade disintegrated, and its hilt fell from its sheath.

  Vur frowned at the fallen hilt. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said as his eyes narrowed. His knees bent and his shoulders hunched over as he swiped his right hand horizontally. A black dragon claw, interlaced with bands of golden scales, materialized in the air a few meters in front of him. It raked towards the pope who blocked it with his axe’s haft. Vur slammed his left hand into the ground as the pope was sliding to the right from the previous impact. Another claw materialized above the pope and rushed downwards, forcing the pope to his knees. The pope’s gauntlets absorbed the damage from the blow even though the attack struck his back and head. Fractures formed along the armor on his forearms, but they disappeared a moment later as a white light covered them.

  Vur’s frown deepened, and he alternated slamming the ground with his right and left hands. A barrage of dragon claws rained down on the pope. The pope’s face turned red, and the veins on his neck bulged as he raised his axe above his head while he struggled to stand. More and more cracks appeared on the silver armor as if the regeneration couldn’t keep up with the destruction.

  “Stop! Both of you, stop!” Lillian shouted as she raised her bow. The tip of her arrow shone as bright as the sun, blinding everyone in the room. A final crashing noise resounded through the chamber before it fell silent. The light dimmed, revealing a single figure in the center of the room. Vur stood with his forearms shielding his eyes. The pope was on his knees in front of the wall across from Vur. A human-shaped web of cracks was imprinted on the surface behind him. The golden light in the pope’s eyes shone brighter as he lunged forwards, swinging his axe towards Vur.

  “Stop!” A wall of yellow smoke rose up in front of the pope, halting his forward movement. The smoke converged into a human-s
haped figure which placed its palm on the pope’s forehead. The golden light in his eyes dimmed as his irises returned.

  “Grandfather,” the pope whispered as his eyes focused on the golden spirit. “I—”

  A slap echoed through the room. “I didn’t raise you like this,” the spirit said as it retracted its hand. The pope touched his cheek and lowered his head, his eyes wide.

  The spirit turned to face Vur. “Forgive my grandson,” he said. “He was too impulsive. His devotion to us clouded his rational thinking.”

  Vur paused before nodding and standing up straight. “I know that feeling,” he said as an image of Yella flashed through his head.

  The pope raised his head and frowned at Michelle who was standing with the support of her staff, guilt clouding his heart. He winced before lowering his head again, staying silent. After a moment, his eyes widened and his head snapped upwards to stare at Vur. “You’re the dragon child!”

  “What’s going on?” Lillian asked as her grip on her bow and arrow tightened, pointing in between Vur and the spirit. The pope opened his mouth to speak but stopped when his grandfather sighed.

  “A portion of Lady Solandra’s soul entered your body, granting you the blessings of increased perception and the right to manifest her weapons,” the spirit said to Lillian as he pointed at her bow. He gestured towards Vur. “We tried to do the same with this young man, but there’s a monster living in his soul. It latched onto Sir Edward and consumed most of him along with every other soul in that room. We only know this because a tiny bit of the collective soul returned to us and relayed what occurred.”

  “What are you going to do to him?” Lillian asked with a quavering voice, arrow still nocked. Vur frowned and crossed his arms across his chest.

  The spirit shook his head. “You needn’t worry. It’s not his fault that a monster is living inside of him,” he said. “There’s no permanent damage done to us; it’s not even a minor inconvenience.”

  “Why do you call it a monster?” Vur asked as he bared his teeth. His eyes narrowed. “It’s my mother’s imprint.”

  The spirit stroked his chin. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” he said as his gaze fell on the pope. He looked back at Vur. “I assume you were imprinted by a dragon.”

  Vur nodded.

  “What was inside you wasn’t a dragon; at least, not one that we’ve ever seen,” the spirit said. “It had horns shaped like a demon’s, four wings, and a blade attached to the end of its tail. Unleash its aura and you’ll see.”

  ***

  Lindyss frowned as a chill ran down her spine. She stopped etching runes on the tree in front of her and turned around.

  “What’s the matter?” Tafel asked. Her body was covered with sweat as she poured mana into the tree. Lindyss had asked her to help set up a few spell formations. Tafel didn’t know what they did, but she complied anyway.

  “It’s Vur. He unleashed his awakening,” Lindyss replied and knit her eyebrows. Grimmy’s eyes opened as he smiled.

  “What exactly does that mean?” Tafel asked as she wiped her brow with her sleeve.

  “Either he’s really, really angry, or he’s in dire straits. It’s a lose-lose situation no matter which you pick,” Lindyss said.

  “I’m coming with you,” Tafel said.

  “Me too,” Grimmy said as his wings flared outwards. Floofykins growled on top of his head and mimicked him, spreading her wings. “I want to see my newest modifications in action.”

  “Alright,” Lindyss said. A pair of skeletons gathered the fallen magical equipment that she had lying around. Tafel stood behind Lindyss, taking one last look at the trees she helped inscribe.

  “How are we getting there?” Tafel asked. Grimmy and Lindyss turned to look at her.

  Grimmy tilted his head. “What do you mean? You’re teleporting us. Obviously.”

  “What? Me?” Tafel asked. Her lips parted as her eyes widened. Were they serious?

  “Of course,” Lindyss said as she dragged Tafel by her arm to Grimmy’s side. “Who else? It’d take too long to fly there.”

  “But I don’t know where we’re going…,” Tafel said as she bit her lower lip. “And I’ve never teleported a dragon before. I don’t have enough mana to do that.”

  “It’s fine,” Lindyss said. “We’ll pour mana into your body while you set up the spell. We want to teleport about 2,000 kilometers in that direction.” Lindyss pointed to the northeast.

  “I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Tafel said as she took a step backwards.

  “What’s the worst that could happen?” Grimmy asked as he stretched his front legs. “That wacky human does it all the time.”

  “We could end up hundreds of meters underground and suffocate,” Tafel said as she took another step backwards. “We could end up hundreds of meters above ground and—”

  “Fly. Because I’m a dragon,” Grimmy said as he grinned. “If we teleport below ground, we’ll dig. If we teleport into the water, we’ll swim. If we teleport into lava, we’ll … well, you’d probably die, but I’d be fine.”

  “I am very much against dying,” Tafel said as she lowered her head.

  Lindyss raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to save Vur? How can you hope to walk alongside him if you can’t even reach him? If ever a time came when Vur needed you to save him and we weren’t around to help, what would you do?”

  Tafel ground her teeth. “Alright,” she said and clenched her hands. “I’ll do it.”

  ***

  “W-what is this?” Lillian whispered. She was sitting with her knees folded under her; her hands were on the floor, supporting her body from behind. Her head was tilted upwards with her lips parted and eyes wide. Cold sweat rolled down her back, and she gulped. Michelle, Roy, and Rudolph were in similar positions as Lillian, their backs to the walls. The pope was kneeling with his body shielded by the spirit standing over him. Trent stood in front of Rudolph with a grin plastered on his face.

  “Amazing,” Trent whispered as his body shuddered while licking his lips.

  Vur stood in the center of the room with his eyes closed. Waves of black light cascaded out of his body, washing over the inhabitants of the room. A layer of black mana obscured the finer details of his body. Scales formed along the aura, and two pairs of wings sprouted from his back. The pair on his shoulders looked sharp and dragon-like while the ones above his waist were rounded and similar to a fairy’s. A bladed tail extended from his coccyx, and claws covered his hands and feet. The aura around his head took the shape of a dragon with a pair of horns growing from his temples, similar in shape to the ones Yella had. The faintest hint of a golden mustache glowed below his nostrils. His golden slit eyes opened and shone through the dark aura.

  The spirit in front of Vur sighed. “It’s really no wonder why you were able to consume us so easily,” he said. Vur glanced at his hands before craning his neck to inspect his wings. The spirit walked in a circle around Vur. “We’ve seen hundreds of elves unleash auras during the wars, but we’ve never seen any that looked like this. There’ve also been a few of us who have been imprinted, but we never managed to awaken at all.”

  Shouts sounded outside the temple, and shrieks echoed through the air as the ground shook. Dust rained down from the temple’s ceiling as cracks spread down the walls. Rays of light pierced through the room as the roof was ripped away, revealing a black dragon’s face.

  “Eh?” Grimmy blinked his eyes. “Why aren’t you killing anything?”

  Lindyss peaked over Grimmy’s snout. “Maybe he just finished transforming? It always takes a while the first time,” she said. “Let’s wait a bit and see.”

  Grimmy nodded while sitting down. “Right,” he said and placed the roof back on top of the temple as if he was covering a pot with a lid. He looked down at Paul, who was sitting in a puddle of urine near Grimmy’s feet. The other humans in the vicinity were in the midst of hiding or running away.

  “What are you looking at
?” Grimmy asked as a wisp of smoke drifted out of his nostrils. “Never seen such a handsome creature before?” He lowered his head towards Paul, squinting at him. “Why aren’t you running?”

  “M-my f-friends a-a-are t-there,” Paul said with a pale face as his shaking arm pointed towards the temple.

  “Oh?” Grimmy tilted his head. “I guess you’re not too bad of a human. Good thing I didn’t squish you on accident. You should do something about wetting your pants though. It’s not very manly.” Grimmy’s tail thumped against the floor as he sighed. “I wish Vur would hurry up. I really want to see how he uses that leviathan tail.” He lay on the ground with his belly on the road, staring at the door to the temple.

  Tafel hugged Floofykins as she paced around in front of Lindyss on the steps. Paul purified his robe and cleaned up the mess he made, but he was still sitting on the floor since his legs wouldn’t stop trembling.

  “U-uhm.” Paul squeaked. “Wasn’t there a pact made a long time ago forbidding dragons from entering the capital?”

  “Hah?” Grimmy squinted his eyes at Paul.

  “I’m sorry!” Paul squealed as he covered his head with his arms and curled up into a ball.

  Lindyss scratched her head. “Yeah, there was something like that, wasn’t there?” She rummaged through her bag. “I think I still have it somewhere here…”

  “What?” Tafel asked as she stopped pacing and looked up. “Why would you have that?”

  “Because I wrote it?” Lindyss raised an eyebrow. She pulled a rolled up piece of laminated paper out of her bag. “Why else? And it’s just a copy so it doesn’t matter if you burn it.” She glared at Grimmy who shut his mouth and swallowed the flames on his tongue.

  “Let me see that,” Grimmy said as he held out his claw. Lindyss placed it on his palm. He scanned the document and nodded. “There’s no issue with me being here then.” Grimmy grinned at Paul who was still hiding his head. “It clearly says, ‘Dragons will not invade any human establishment that has a scion of the royal family.’”