Original Forum Post by Kaerisk on June 13th, 2009

Maurger left behind a steaming pile of goo near Chiconis after his rapid flight from the lair. His sister had insisted that he had the shadow of Maekrux all over him, and he felt rid of it now, finally, that the Blue Phoenix was dead and digested.

His prize still rested inside him: the Egg of the Phoenix.

It had been a strange experience, to form the internal functions necessary to sustain it another week to term; he came to understand how his victims felt a little better and it made him feel quite pleased with his work. The egg had undergone no small amount of trauma already, having been taken when Maekrux was crushed and then altered by the goo-dragon’s unique Dark Primal properties in order to fit through the air vents of Maekrux’s stolen lair. The life was still within it, though; Maurger could feel it. This would be his first child, one he would begin raising to adhere to the ideal society.

His ideal society.

Tirelessly, he had transformed Waere Ulhar Ausixen into his testing grounds, to learn what his society must need – huntresses, breeders, soldiers, guards, leaders, crafters – and all had played their roles perfectly. He learned that ancients reacted more strongly to the transformation and that male hatchlings were better off killed outright. He learned that loyalty could be garnered through special treatment and love to the loyal and cruelty to the disloyal. He learned how to turn his victims into his puppets by invading their brainstem and taking their nerves – perhaps what he may have to do with his future leaders.

And of course, for the second time in his life, he felt what it was like to be the one in control, who called the shots, who got what he wanted, and had all the power.

Had his experiment been completed, he’d probably have left Maekrux to live with his shame, but he wasn’t ready when Amethyr and Daza stormed the lair. This turned out to work in his favor, as he found that, within Maekrux, there was a great and untapped power that Maekrux himself did not even realize he had – the nexus energy of an entire world. Now he would master this power and he would be unchallenged in his own home again. He would have his ideal society.

Nevertheless, he wanted the egg to hatch first. He’d complete the experiment on his own.

At last, the time came. Maurger didn’t lay the egg, by any stretch of the word, but merely expelled it from his gel-like body, traveling through an arm and resting on the created nest. The fluids of birth followed shortly after, drenching the egg in them. Maurger leaned down to stare at its strange and wispy looking surface. “Daughter, you shall become the first of a great society…” he trailed off, sniffing the egg. He snarled viciously at it, roaring his anger to the heavens.

It was male.

He knew what he learned. He lifted his claw to smash it, as he had other male eggs. He loved the feeling of their gooey insides oozing through his fingers, the malformed life within, so delicate and crunchy when fried after being extracted from amongst the shells. This he told himself to make him strike with his claw. He could not. This had become his egg, in a way. He would leave it to die, exposed to the elements. He snuffed his frustration and took to the sky, leaving to begin study of his new-found power.

Amethyr looked at her son, then back at the pile of goo, "Trace elements indeed." Amethyr and Daza looked at the spoor left behind by their quarry, but he had long since escaped. The attention instead turned to what they hoped was the kill and its return. Daza didn’t say much as Amethyr began drawing a circle of runes around the goo. She sprinkled the circle with blood she collected from Kaevaeri; this would serve as a base for the recreation of a body. “Ready, son?”

“I'm supposed to do something?” he asked.
“Stand at the south point and face the circle. I want you to think solely about Maekrux - hold his image in your mind,” she said.

Daza rolled his one good eye. “Alright.” He sounded so inconvenienced.

Amethyr placed a paw against the circle and began to pour power into the runes, far more power than would otherwise be necessary. Perhaps she did not wish to take any chances. The goo had decimated Maekrux’s body and soul, the former utterly gone, the latter in tatters. The small shreds of it began to rise from the goo like little drops of water, floating upwards and slowly beginning to coalesce under the power of the spell. Between the focus of the two, Maekrux’s spirit formed into its correct shape and size but something about it, to anyone but those focused on completing the process, would have seemed a little off somehow. It was as if there was something still missing, despite the powerful runes, the blood, and the will of the two at the circle.

At last, the blood was infused with the energy, and the spirit had formed. Amethyr cast her Primal Rebirth, and light erupted over the two, momentarily blinding as the spell activates. But Maekrux was incomplete, and all the energy of the spell filtered into him like a sponge. He reformed, but not as he was.

Where an ancient should have stood was a small blue hatchling, holding his head which rang with such pain. He hissed like a feral at the two nearby, stumbling as if he had never used his legs before. Amethyr and Daza looked on with confusion at the hatchling, wondering what had gone wrong – she had poured enough power into the runes to resurrect an army! Daza denied any blame and suggested that Maekrux didn’t want to come back. But no, Maekrux loved his family and wanted vehemently to return.

Maekrux spoke, though moments after speaking he couldn’t remember what he was saying. Everything was a blur in his mind, alternating between his past memory as an ancient and his current experience. He started at his paws again for the first time, wondering and marveling at them. They decided to take him to Daza’s lair and his son, Kaevaeri.

Kaevaeri had missed his father greatly since he watched Maurger kill him. Perhaps it was at the hatchling’s urging that Maekrux be brought back. He was saddened to find his a’meo did not remember him and had lost his memory and perhaps his mind. Nonetheless, he brought Maekrux to his grandson, Ausixen, who Kaevaeri shared everything with. “Ausi! A'meo is back!” he proclaimed.

Ausixen looked at the hatchling, initially confused. Maekrux smiled wide at his grandson, almost as if he had any idea who he was. Ausixen looked back to Kaevaeri. "That's not a'meo."

“Use your nose,” Kaevaeri said.
Ausixen shooks his head. He hated when Kaevaeri said that – it always made him confused and angry. "D'na. You always say that, you have since I first met you. It doesn't matter what I smell, he's not your a'meo."

“He is,” Kaeveri insisted, “Daza said his mother brought him back, though something went wrong.” Maekrux was initially confused by the exhange, but then shrugged his wings heavily. He was no longer wearing any runes. He went to lays down beside Daza, churring lovingly at his son, though this only illicit irritated growls from the black.

Ausixen sighed, shaking his head. "D'na... Ieo don't know what to believe Kaevaeri.” He paused for awhile, lowering his head. “Ieo am going back home.”

Kaevaeri looked somewhat dejected at this. “I will bring A'meo home once he is ready...”

Ausixen nodded, looking at the hatchling once more, who seemed hurt at Daza's tone and shifted away from him. "A'na. Ieo will do the same." With this, he walked out, returning to the now fallow Waere Ulhar Ausixen.


The plan to extract Maekrux would never have made it past the entrance if it were not for Maekrux’s purple grandson, Ausixen. He was born from Nidhogg and Maekrux’s eldest daughter, Aerioch. In some ways, he and Maurger shared much in common – both had lousy childhoods and both felt entirely abandoned by their sires. But Ausixen had always had something Maurger never did: his grandfather. He learned everything from his grandfather, who he adored more than the stars themselves: what it was to be a Dragon, the history of the race, the complexities of Primal magic, the joy of rending prey and devouring it, and even the traps and passages of Maekrux’s lair, where he had lived near all his life. Ausixen had lived comfortably without being detected by any, and he was pleased with it that way – he saw most of his kyn as having fallen from what it was to be Dragon, the only gift left to him by his parents who broke their Bond.

Indeed, even when Maurger overtook Maekrux’s body and controlled his brainstem, forcing him to reset every ward in the lair, Ausixen continued to live there, only leaving to try to find someone who was Dragon that he could beg for help. Ausixen had settled on helping Amethyr, who was the only dragon who knew about him. He had disengaged all of the wards without Maurger realizing they were done – not realizing that another dragon would go marching up to the brood chamber and force the trap to spring.

“Why was I so foolish… I should have trusted Maekrux to free himself. My grandfather was just waiting until -” Ausixen held a paw to his chest. His heart hurt, though it was not physical. “Until Kaevaeri and I were safe…” He could have done something to save Kaevaeri, and then it would have been alright. Everything would have been alright.

It was no longer alright.

No one knew Maekrux’s lair better than him, except perhaps Ausixen. In fact, Ausixen knew not only the secrets of what the murals did, but the secrets of what the secrets did. That is why, when Daza stormed the unprotected lair, he reactivated the ward in the foyer: the Runic Dragon.

He stood before the mural again, placing his paw on it. The Runic Dragon erupted from the mural with a frightening roar of pain and anguish, its body a swirl of blue energy, rings of runic letters that were tiny and glowed, obscuring their form and making him appear as wires of brilliant blue energy. The Runic Dragon shook its head, looking down at Ausixen. “Grandson? I must have been killed and had the Gift taken, then,” the dragon said.

“A’na Keir A’meo. Do you remember what happened?” the purple asked.
“Everything except the murder. I last remember Daza facing down Maurger,” the Runic Dragon said. He looked at his wire paws. “I hoped would never have to use this.” Maekrux’s soul had been captured by the runic dragon mural – a failsafe in case the gods found a way to circumvent the Gift and kill him. “Strange – that shouldn’t happen.”

“W-what?” Ausixen asked, fearfully. He couldn’t take any more bad news.
“Part of the Gift has come with me. I do not need the mural to sustain this form.” Maekrux the Runic spread his brilliant blue wings and took to the air of the lair, flying around it and laughing merrily as the air rippled through the rings of his body. “Perhaps with this, I can do some good in the world.”

“Keir a’meo?” Ausixen asked, not understanding.
The Runic landed, smiling a glowing smile at his grandson. “When I died, I wondered if I had ever done any good with my life, and I feel like I haven’t. Now I need to do it. That is what is Dragon.” Ausixen looked up at him, confused. He had the soul of a Dragon, but no longer the shape. Did that not preclude him from being Dragon? “Secure the lair, Ausixen. I’m going to go out for awhile.” With this, the Runic left the lair.

“Wait! I haven’t told you -” Ausixen’s words were too late. Ausixen knew he’d be back as long as he secured the lair, and so began reactivating all of the wards once more.