Ep 157. I’ve Been Here Before. (3)

Ep 157. I’ve Been Here Before. (3)

Ep 157. I’ve Been Here Before. (3)

Aymeia’s eyes remained fixed on the glimmering white scales beneath her feet.

Truthfully, the former deity was already far too busy shivering from the freezing winds rushing past her – so much that she had no mind to even examine the dragonlord’s proper form.

After an entire millennium, she’d somehow returned to her human self with only a simple cloak wrapped around her. And accompanying that return was a gradual realization of just how harsh Asarda’s climate was.

It certainly didn’t help that they were flying further North. The winds had grown at least twice as cold and sharp compared to how they were in Chell.

It also didn’t help that Light’s cold gaze had been fixed on her for the last half an hour...which Aymeia was avoiding like her life depended on it.

“...”

Feeling the former deity’s jittering vibration above her back, the dragonlord glanced towards the two riding on her back.

“The winds have grown cold. Are you two alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Even as Light answered, both hers and Serenis’ gazes remained fixed on the much-lighter-clothed former deity.

And through her clattering teeth, Aymeia forced herself to look up to nod her head.

“A...a, a, I’m...f, f, fineee....too...”

“...”

Serenis soon turned away from the two to face forward once more. But simultaneously, a small ember came to life in front of the shivering girl to provide her with a much-needed warmth.

“O, oh...t...t, t, thank...you...”

Who would believe that this girl, just a day earlier, was spewing flames left and right?

Instead of answering, the dragonlord merely let out a small snort. She was simply glad that all the shaking on her back was lessening.

But as Aymeia indulged in the newfound warmth, she looked up once more to face the dragon flying her.

“Um...dragonlord?”

“...Yes?”

“Why are you...being so...lenient?”

“...”

“I wouldn’t have found it so odd if you were out to kill me instead. The red dragon you were with...Light...and even the Asardans don’t seem fond of me anymore...”

“I need your guidance to follow Felicir. I do not know where this ‘temple’ is that he speaks of.”

“...Even then, it feels like you’re being too lenient. I...hurt your kin...”

“Is that so? Would you prefer I be callous and cruel, then?”

“Aymeia.”

“Huh? Uh, yes!”

At the dragonlord’s behest, Aymeia crawled forth a few steps, peeking over the dragonlord’s shoulder to the ground beneath them. When her eyes also confirmed the cavern beneath, she nodded her head affirmatively.

“...That’s it. It may not look like it, but...”

Aymeia bit her lips in hesitation. She hadn’t been outside for so long; in fact, she could scarce recall ever coming out in the first place.

What she remembered was a grandiose marble structure, adorned in decorations of gold and silver. The interior had been brimming with life, filled with beds of flowers and people: she’d long lost count of just how many people commented that the Star’s temple looked like it should belong to the deities of life or land.

Alas, now it was nothing more than a lightless tunnel, coated in layers of deep-blue ice.

“...It’s the entrance to my temple.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Felicir beamed a wide grin at the subtle noise.

The entire chamber lightly trembled. Waves of dust shook itself off from the ceiling, scattering onto the floors. The trembling would soon come to a cease, but he could nonetheless feel the looming presence above the ground.

“It seems she’s arrived. Didn’t take her very long, did it?”

Hissssssss!

“Haha!”

Grinning, the Reaper reached out with Karas’ clawed hand, pricking at the spider’s furry leg. He casually lifted it upwards, staring into its array of eyes.

“Not so big and strong anymore, are we?”

Instead of a verbal response, the spider pointed its rear at the Reaper.

Then, it proceeded to shoot out a string of webs onto Felicir’s face.

“...”

“...”

Felicir forced himself to maintain his grin, though it became crooked with evident hints of annoyance. He tossed the spider sideways, letting it hit the wall on the far side before dropping down to the ground.

The spider lightly chirped in pain as it plopped onto the chamber floors. Its legs wriggled about, trying to lift itself back unto its feet.

And the Reaper mockingly watched the display.

“My, did that hurt? Look on the bright side, you’re not dead.”

“...”

“How does it feel to be on the other side? You could squash a man underfoot before, but now, a man could squash YOU underfoot. Wouldn’t it be ironic if your precious lord accidentally stepped on you?”

He’d never let it happen, of course. At least not until he makes his case to the Historian.

Though, after that, Felicir couldn’t care less what happened to the annoying youngling.