Part V — Derpy: Too Calm Is a Warning

  In the throne hall, Derpy walked calmly.

  Too calmly.

  Mia’s three heads snarled low, each throat choosing a different threat.

  Sphinx crackled with lightning that had nowhere to go.

  Vemi whispered, “He’s not here.”

  Vambasta’s jaw tightened. “He’s somewhere else.”

  Derpy didn’t answer.

  He didn’t look at the banners.

  He didn’t look at the throne.

  He didn’t look at the people who were waiting for him to become a story they could survive.

  Two figures blocked the center aisle.

  One spat at his feet.

  “You froze our sister.”

  Magic fired.

  Derpy didn’t blink.

  His gaze stayed forward, unfocused, like he was watching a memory instead of a room.

  “So I was supposed to be your mother’s tool?”

  A sound left him.

  It might have been a laugh.

  It wasn’t amused.

  It was empty.

  Vaeloria was already moving.

  Not to attack.

  To anchor.

  Her hand landed on Derpy’s shoulder, firm enough to be a claim and gentle enough to be a warning.

  “Amy. Lyn,” Vaeloria said without turning her head. “Stand down.”

  Amy’s hat brim dipped.

  Lyn’s staff lifted—then stopped.

  Vaeloria’s eyes stayed on Derpy’s face.

  His eyelids were heavier than they should have been.

  His breathing was too slow.

  He looked like someone holding himself upright by habit alone.

  Vaeloria felt it then—

  that thin, dangerous edge.

  Derpy was about to collapse.

  And if he collapsed here, in front of Seraphine—

  Seraphine would call it proof.

  Seraphine would call it permission.

  Seraphine’s shadow opened.

  Lyra emerged.

  Berserker followed—massive, brutal, built like a consequence.

  They moved fast.

  Too fast.

  A clean strike.

  A brutal follow-through.

  Amy and Lyn went down before the room could decide whether to gasp.

  Vaeloria’s fingers tightened on Derpy’s shoulder.

  “Stop,” she said.

  Seraphine didn’t.

  Lyra and Berserker pivoted.

  Toward Derpy.

  Derpy’s eyes didn’t sharpen.

  They dulled.

  His eyelids lowered.

  Derpy didn’t choose to sleep.

  He was pulled.

  Celica’s presence tightened around him first.

  Then Phantasm.

  The world tilted.

  His knees buckled.

  Before Lyra or Berserker could strike, Derpy’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed.

  Vaeloria’s crest flared.

  Pink ice erupted.

  Not creeping.

  Arriving.

  Lyra froze mid-step.

  Berserker froze mid-roar.

  Encased so quickly Seraphine didn’t realize what happened until she was staring at her two heavy hitters trapped in translucent rose.

  Silence hit the hall.

  Hard.

  Part VI — Reality Returns: Some People Want the Collar

  Derpy opened his eyes.

  The attackers were unconscious.

  Lyra and Berserker were statues in pink ice.

  Amy and Lyn were down—breathing, alive, furious in the way only the living can be.

  Seraphine stood too still.

  Vaeloria stood too close.

  Derpy blinked, slow.

  Like he’d been dropped back into his own skull without being told what happened while he was gone.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  He lifted his hand.

  Snapped his fingers.

  The crest vanished from Seraphine’s neck.

  The collar dissolved from Vaeloria’s throat.

  Vaeloria froze.

  Then—

  she clutched her neck.

  “Put it back.”

  Her voice was small.

  Derpy blinked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Put it back,” she repeated.

  Her breathing grew shallow.

  “It was warm.”

  Seraphine stared at her.

  Vaeloria’s eyes went unfocused, like her mind was trying to find its rails again.

  “I didn’t have to think,” she whispered. “I didn’t have to choose.”

  Something cold crawled up Derpy’s spine.

  “I’m not your crutch,” he said quietly.

  Vaeloria looked at him like he had taken something precious.

  “Give it back.”

  Her hands shook.

  “Give it back.”

  Derpy stepped away.

  He had never intended this.

  Control was supposed to be a tool.

  But some people didn’t want freedom.

  And that terrified him more than rebellion ever could.

  Vaeloria’s throat worked.

  Her pride tried to stand.

  Her body didn’t let it.

  “Please,” she said, and the word scraped.

  Derpy’s jaw tightened.

  He reached into his pocket.

  Slowly.

  Carefully.

  He produced a simple collar.

  Not magic.

  No glow.

  No crest.

  Just leather and metal.

  He held it out.

  Vaeloria stared.

  She didn’t realize it wasn’t hers.

  Didn’t realize it was Sphinx’s.

  Her hands moved anyway.

  She took it.

  The moment it touched her skin, her shoulders dropped a fraction.

  A breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding finally escaped.

  It worked.

  For the moment.

  Enough for Derpy to think.

  Enough for Derpy to plan.

  Enough for the room to pretend it hadn’t seen a queen beg.

  Derpy swayed.

  His gaze slid past the hall.

  Past Seraphine.

  Past the frozen bodies.

  As if he was listening to something none of them could hear.

  His eyelids lowered again.

  “Derpy—” Vaeloria started.

  He didn’t answer.

  He tipped forward.

  And the air tore.

  A seam opened.

  Not a door.

  Not a portal.

  A rip in reality like a wound that remembered how to split.

  Derpy fell into it.

  Gone.

  Vaeloria screamed.

  A sound too raw for court.

  Like she’d lost her lover.

  Like she’d lost her property.

  Like she’d lost the only piece on the board she hadn’t finished understanding.

  Her head snapped to Seraphine.

  “You took him.”

  Seraphine’s fan didn’t move.

  Vaeloria’s crest ignited.

  The air behind her split with summoning light.

  Two elemental beasts formed—wolves made of oath and hunger.

  One ice.

  One fire.

  They hit the marble with claws that sounded like verdicts.

  Vaeloria’s voice dropped.

  “I’ll make you pay.”

  Part VII — The Seam: Quiet Between Teeth

  Derpy did not fall into darkness.

  He fell into quiet.

  A place between places.

  Floating.

  Weightless.

  Mini Sphinx and mini Mia rested on his chest like comfort turned into mascots.

  The collar on him disappeared.

  At first, relief hit hard—

  no noise.

  No hum.

  No leash-sense.

  Then the emptiness arrived.

  Four small presences drifted near him.

  Not books.

  Not beasts.

  Something he had made when he couldn’t carry himself.

  “A cat.”

  Small. Fast. Sharp.

  “A cow.”

  Strong. Steady. Grounded.

  “A rat.”

  Clever. Observant. Quiet.

  “A ram.”

  Stubborn. Forward. Leader.

  He didn’t know their real names.

  So he made them up when and became solid when he said their names.

  Velra.

  Maribel.

  Silette.

  Brimelle.

  Celica drifted close.

  Phantasm followed.

  “How are you going to get out?” Celica asked.

  Phantasm’s voice cut in, velvet-edged. “And don’t blame me. This was your doing, not mine.”

  Derpy swallowed.

  He wanted to talk.

  He wanted answers.

  “Why can I wield two… or more calamity books?” he asked.

  Celica hesitated.

  Phantasm didn’t.

  “We all agreed,” Phantasm said. “If we ever met you, we’d tell you.”

  Derpy’s brow furrowed.

  Celica’s presence tightened, reluctant but steady.

  “Your mother was Lunara,” Celica said.

  Phantasm finished it, like a blade sliding into place.

  “The dark dragon god.”

  Derpy stared at them.

  Then shook his head.

  “That’s a great joke,” he muttered. “For the past thirty years I grew up in a human world. That’s not true.”

  Phantasm moved.

  Violet light folded.

  A dragon form unfurled—night-purple wings with star-glow along the edges, horns curved like polished obsidian, a violet chest-mark pulsing like a heart that didn’t belong to flesh.

  She floated to him.

  Wrapped around him.

  Careful.

  Possessive.

  Warm.

  “We’ll talk more about this later,” Phantasm said into his hair.

  Derpy’s eyes fluttered.

  And somewhere in the quiet, a dream tried to form—

  a mother’s face he had never seen.

  Part VIII — The Thread Tugs the Others

  Far away, calamity presences stirred.

  Pyro informed Lenora without ceremony.

  Blight-Vain informed Lewd with a sharper edge.

  Derpy had disappeared.

  Lenora and Lewd felt it.

  They shook it off.

  Not because it didn’t matter.

  Because stopping wouldn’t bring him back.

  They continued the chase.

  Ace finally came to a stop.

  Hina stood in front of him.

  Face to face.

  Lewd’s hand tightened around her book.

  Then she felt it—

  Blight-Vain vanishing.

  “Where are you going?” Lewd snapped.

  A seam opened.

  Lewd jumped.

  She caught her calamity book—

  Blight-Vain’s voice thinned. “I’ve tried to tell you. But you didn’t listen. I’ve given you warning something was wrong. I tried to get you to go to Derpy so you could talk things out. I’ve tried everything. There are things at play here that you don’t understand. If you can’t listen and follow advice from your calamity book, I feel we should no longer be partners.”

  Lewd retorted, grabbing Blight-Vain. “I can’t face him. I feel I’m not ready.”

  Lenora shouted, but faint.

  The seam closed behind Lewd.

  “I can’t face him yet,” Blight responded.

  She glowed—turning into her human dragon form.

  Carrying Lewd, she squeaked.

  Blight’s chest was bigger than hers and she was a little taller than her. Also, her dragon appearance was pretty but seductive.

  “It seems in this space I’m able to be in my deity form… but why?” Blight said.

  “Our physical forms were left and turned to stones many centuries ago,” Blight continued, “during the fractured wars with the factions… when we couldn’t decide on an heir. Could it possibly be that he’s—no. It couldn’t be.”

  Blight shook her head.

  Mist formed.

  “Excuse me,” Lewd said, coughing.

  “Right,” Blight said. “You’re still here. Why do you continue to follow me and hold me like I’m your belonging? When you found me, I didn’t want to be found. Wars tend to follow when I’m awakened.”

  Lewd puffed out her cheeks while being carried by Blight.

  “My life wasn’t the greatest, Blight. Before I found you, I was bullied. Fired from my job due to smelling from being chased into the sewer. I always stunk due to that, so it was always hard to keep a job. When I met you, the smell went away for a brief moment. I had a thing called happiness. Like my life wasn’t in shambles. I didn’t have to worry about smelling or eating out of a trash because money was tight. It was more a relief. You may not know it, but I keep you close because you make things a tiny bit better for me.”

  Blight let out a chuckle. “I see,” she said as her green dragon wings flapped. “Well, if we’re going to be together for a while, you need to follow advice and listen to me when I tell you something’s wrong. Our brother Pyro is a bit thick-headed, but Phantasm and Celica and Eco are all together on this… so she should be awaking soon and coming to this space.”

  Suddenly, without warning, a crackle of lightning and ice shot down and hit Blight.

  “Seems we’re not the only ones here,” Blight said, clutching Lewd.

  A rat floating on an orb hovered above Derpy, who was laying there sleeping.

  Floating.

  A rat with a witch hat drifted above him.

  She moved to Derpy.

  “Do you want to get out?” she asked.

  Derpy’s voice came distant, groaned with a sleep bubble.

  “Not right now.”

  The rat-witch squeaked.

  “Yes, master.”

  Celica and Phantasm looked at Blight carrying Lewd.

  “Well, if it isn’t the short stack,” Phantasm said. “Seems like you got your hands full.”

  Another crackle of ice and electricity flew at Blight and Lewd.

  “Would you like a hand?”

  Pink puff clouds wrapped around the rat witch—holding her in place just enough for Blight and Lewd to make it near Derpy, who was asleep.

  Celica looked at Derpy, then wondered out loud, “I wonder what would have happened if she found him first.”

  The three dragons looked at one another.

  Phantasm’s smile dropped. “I’m not sure… but I assume it would be bad. I mean, war already starting to break out due to this boy here. The heir to the dark dragon god Lunara… the only deity to produce an heir.”

  “So, Celica,” Blight said, floating close to Celica, coming to about her waist. “I see you changed a tiny bit. A red dress. Did you match your sister’s son’s preference?”

  Celica blushed and roared—shooting ice magic at Blight.

  It missed her and hit the clouds that bound Silette.

  Silette floated down and put a protective barrier around Derpy and his pets.

  Derpy shifted.

  Out of his back, chains flew through seams—pulling Lieam with Eco, another pulling Lenora with Pyro, another pulling Ruby with Tempest, and Mina with Marionette.

  The chains disappeared.

  Derpy mumbled, “Mother,” and a chain flew upwards—shifting to Derpy’s world.

  The book searching its heir floated.

  Lunara groaned. “It should be here. My heir. It smells the strongest here.”

  The book phased into the building—seeing Derpy’s sisters arguing.

  “Why would he leave?” the first one said. “It’s your fault for always sending him errands. Maybe he took off due to you.”

  The second sister argued back.

  The arguing went on for an hour—till they both started crying.

  “Derpy, come home,” they wailed.

  “Hm,” Lunara said. “Seems my heir is named Derpy.”

  A seam opened.

  A chain wrapped around Lunara and pulled her book into the seam where the seven calamity books reside.

  “What the heck is going on?”

  The book landed on Derpy’s chest.

  “Mother… I can’t wait to meet you one day.”

  All seven calamity books were in one place—

  with one that didn’t belong.