Chapter 1411 The Sorrow Of Andar And Nivi (1)
Andar had created a platform from a swirling ball of earth, and in it lay Staff who was still passed out after tearing the Great Desert dimension in two. He did not go past what was expected of him, but Staff had been filled with rage when she struck out against the desert. Her emotions, as he had learned over the years, were fiery, and her temper ran as hot as her warmth.
Clustered around the platforms were tongues of fire in their hundreds, these were the Angels tasked with following them, but Andar believed they were here more for Staff than him, her friendship with them was a well-known secret even if she believed that it was a private affair, Staff had never learned not to wear her heart on her sleeves.
He could still hear the dreadful crash as a dimension that had existed since the end of the Primordial Era, holding great horrors that most minds could never fathom was broken by the might of this sleeping woman who had her staff close to her like a body pillow. Her talents were damned impressive, and Andar sometimes wondered between them who was stronger, they sparred now and then, but he never allowed it to go too far.
Maybe one of these days he would go to the limits with her, but something was holding him back; he needed to settle the affair that had been on his mind for more than a million years before he could allow himself to fully exercise the fullness of his might and luxuriate in his talent.
Both of them had sorrows in their hearts and weight in their soul, and every day was a journey to relieve them of that load.
Sleeping beside Staff was the miniaturized form of the white dragon, Vraegar, this was formed by a body spell created by the dragon to watch over them, especially his favorite Nivi. He almost appeared to be cute, with his pearly white scales and his tiny red claws that clutched the air in his sleep as a light snore escaped from his opened mouth filled with tiny sharp fangs.
Vraegar had a weird sense of possession that all great dragons seemed to have, and Andar had it on good authority that the dragon had left thousands of these clones to those that he favored. Knowing Vraegar, Andar could not help but think this was also a form of politicking; the dragon's lust for power was only bounded by the implacable might of his father, and so he had to work within the confines of what Rowan had given him.
However, with the rate by which Rowan develops, it is quite possible that no matter how much the dragon tries, he will never reach the confines of Rowan's ever-expanding power, and the more he seizes, the more there is to take. After Andar had witnessed the might of Rowan's Aether, he understood the gap that existed between his Creator and everyone else. The dragon was fated to struggle all his life, and at the height of his power,, he would realize that everything he had was considered nothing before the might of his father.
Andar shivered. He knew that Rowan's ultimate target was the Primordials; could it be that perhaps this was what Rowan felt when he thought about these mysterious, all-powerful entities? Did Rowan think that with all his powers he was nothing before a Primordial? He simply let those thoughts die, there were some things that he was not yet qualified to understand.
Vraegar was among the few of Rowan's children who did not enter into hibernation to wait for the elevation of his dimension. Instead, he had set out into reality, knowing the risk involved as Rowan would not be there to save his soul if he died, all so he could fight for his advancement. It would have been an easy thing to sleep away the years and wake up in a more glorious era, but the dragon pursued power and would not be still for so long when there was so much out there to discover.
Andar had a thought as he glanced at the sleeping form of Vraegar who was muttering in his sleep and scratching his scaly stomach with a claw, 'perhaps this clone of his that the dragon had spread to all of them in the guise of protecting them was not meant to protect them, instead, it was to protect Vraegar if he died during his journey.'
This would be just like the dragon, always hedging his bets, and if anyone was foolish enough to believe he was nothing but a brute, then their eventual suffering in the hands of Vraegar was their fault.
The dragon groaned in his sleep, and Staff, even while unconscious, patted him on the head, and pushing his head closer to her hand, the dragon settled deeper in his sleep.
He smiled at this sight as he glanced at Staff, he did not believe how close to her he had become. It was a companionship born from sharing life experiences, and all the ups and downs that such a thing entails. They had fought, laughed, lived, and grown together, and at this point in his life, no one was closer to him than her.
After close to a million years of life, some memories faded in the background while others were still painted in vivid shades, and he knew he would keep these memories till the day that he died.
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