Chapter Text
Once upon a time, a Queen of Darkness sought to reign over the world. She schemed, manipulated, slaughtered, and waged her war against Mankind. Her Grimm Army, shadow monsters made of hatred and dark magic, seemed endless. The dark spread across the globe.
Warriors fell. Militias fought valiantly to their deaths. Villages burned. Cites crumbled. Countries turned to dust.
Her bloodlust was endless. Her savagery knew no bounds. The Queen of Darkness was Evil Incarnate.
Humanity’s doom was inevitable.
Then one day, mystical beings known as Myths rose from their places of hiding. From the deepest of caves. The tallest mountains. The bottom of oceans. The most remote forests. The forgotten places of the world.
Dragons, Witches, Werefolk, Vampires and more. You heard a legend about it, they rose to the occasion.
The Council of Myths and the Five Kingdoms of Remnant formed an alliance to last until the end of time, to be upheld by their descendants and their descendants after them until the end of time. And they all marched against the Queen of Darkness, Salem.
They pushed her forces off of their shores, and pushed the darkness back to the island nicknamed "The Never-Moors”. Named for the magic swamp pits of dark sludge filled with pure negative power that spawned Grimm.
After a hefty Campaign, the King of Vale launches his final assault on the Never-Moors for the island hosted Salem's Last Castle, “The Tower”.
Nicolas Schnee
The battlefield raged. Waves after waves of Grimm charged the Atlesian lines on the dusty plains. The Atlesian army was holding their ground, attempting to hold the beachhead a mile behind them. Poor men spent 3 days fighting Grimm to establish that beachhead, they weren't about to lose it in yet another counterattack.
The soldiers were heavily armored with steel plates and well armed with Dust Infused weapons and their new Garand rifles. They held strong their snowy banners and steel shield lines as they stood against the encroaching enemy. For they were facing a devastating foe, hundreds of Beowolves and Ursa.
The foot soldiers of the Grimm, these two are the bane of a warrior's existence not for their might, but the sheer number of the retchs. The Beowolves stood 7 feet tall with red eyes and sharp claws and teeth, a mockery of a Werewolf's hybrid form. You could tell their age from the young ones bearing only black fur and the older ones growing pieces of bone armor with red etchings all over their body.
The Ursa was a little larger, matching more the size of a grizzly bear with not as much a sweet side. One had to beware of its ferocious claws that cut concrete with ease, and nigh impenetrable armor. Then the older ones had spikes on its back like a porcupine.
The Atlesian lines were firing volley after volley, muskets and newly minted rifles mounted on the shields of their frontline brethren. They succeeded in slowing the horde, but the monsters still progressed nonetheless.
Some of the artillery cannons took the chance to fire their Fire Dust cannonballs. They launched the shots and the ordinance landed amongst the Grimm with devastating effect. Yet the enemy didn't falter as it advanced, barely making a dent.
Dust was a strange material. It was quite volatile, and charged with elemental energy, ranging from explosive fire to powerful electricity to great gusts of wind and more. Having been a common sight for most of history, only 200 years ago had anyone figured out how to use it.
For humans, that is.
Dragons could use it easily, and have for thousands of years. In fact, they could eat it, but only if it corresponded with their natural element. An organ inside them allowed them to store Dust Energy for future use.
In fact, Sebastian was crunching on an Ice Dust crystal right now. And loudly, as if he were eating a pane glass window.
“Could you eat that a little quieter please? I'm trying to concentrate.” Said Nicolas Schnee, leader of the Ice Dragons.
“Yeah.” Sebastian responded with his mouth full. “I'm gonna finish this though.” He proceeded to chew louder, annoying his brother, Nicolas, even further.
Nicolas stood upon the cliff on the nearby mountainside, observing the battle. Clad in his battle armor, a blue sash displaying his rank and his sword at his side, he was waiting for his moment.
His brother, Sebastian, and his sister, Clara, stood next to him. They were dressed similarly as Nicolas, all three of them bearing their long, snow white hair proudly in the wind. Their bloodline yielded several traits that they all shared, white hair and blue eyes some of them.
“They're about to reach the front line, Nick. Shall we do something about that and not pose dramatically?”
Clara’s sarcasm was not one of these traits.
“I can see that, Clara, and we will.”
“Then why don't we get down there and rough them up right now?” Sebastian asked. “I'm itching for a fight.”
“I fully intend on crashing into their ranks before they reach our men.” Nicolas explained. “I just don't want to scare them off. An Ice Dragon has the effect of scattering hordes, and I want to slay these beasts as fast as possible.”
“Don't want to leave your new friend, the King of Vale, out to dry?” Clara cooed at her brother. “He was so brave to offer to take the center line so you could sweep the north flank and swoop into the center, saving the day.”
It was no secret Nicolas was looking to make roads into the King's favor. He intended the Schnee family to be a great part of this world. But he wanted it through friendship, not violence. Not like what Salem was doing.
“Haha, Clara. Yes, I want to help the King. The alliance centers upon that man. And I have a feeling he is going to be even more important than even his title suggests.”
“Cryptic today, aren't we, brother?” Sebastian noted.
Nicolas frowned at that. “I'm merely alluding to-”
“CAAAWWW”
Nicolas shook his head, a little perturbed that a Nevermore would dare break his concentration. The giant, bone armored crow had risen from its resting place at the castle in the distance and flew over the horde. It was big, almost the size of the transportation ship that carried the humans here. The Nevermore was flying directly at the three of them.
“Haha, Party Time.” Sebastian punched his gauntlets together. His siblings didn't stop him as he charged forward and hopped off the cliff.
They knew they didn't need to.
His form changed and grew, white scales rippling over his body, his hands and feet growing claws. His magically enchanted armor grew with him, morphing to cover the body of the newly transformed Ice Dragon Sebastian became. 40 meters long, with a wingspan almost as long, he was now a force of nature.
He flapped his wings, powerful as they launched him directly at the Nevermore, almost matching him in size. But he was stronger, vastly stronger. He did a barrel maneuver to avoid the Nevermores talon strike and grabbed it's back. He somersaulted forward and threw the crow directly to the ground. It crashed into the ground with a crash as rocks and dirt flew away. Before it could get up, it was quickly crushed by Sebastian, who followed it down.
The body of the Nevermore began to dissolve into a smoky darkness, as all dead Grimm do. It certainly helped with cleanup.
The siblings nodded in approval of Sebastian's efficient takedown. Nicolas patted his sister on the back. “Well, I think it's time we join him, sister.”
“Ladies first.” Clara jokes, gesturing forward.
“That won't catch on.” Nicolas said, exasperated at his sister's sense of humor.
“Oh, I think it will.” Clara said confidently.
The two of them run forwards and begin changing before they run off the mountain. By the time they reach the edge, they leap and ascend into the sky. Sebastian had to spend some time catching up.
Nicolas led the way towards the line, his siblings in formation. The horde was about to reach their army. They circled around until they were at the right edge of the flank. He waited until the moment was right.
…
…
Now!
Nicolas closed his wings to dive towards the Grimm. Clara and Sebastian followed. The three felt the wind rush past them as they saw the ground approach. A feeling every Dragon cherishes.
The Grimm were almost 100 yards away now from the first shieldman. The siblings took a deep breath and opened their wings, quickly pulling out of the dive. The Grimm looked up, and saw it was too late to escape.
The Dragons opened their maws and blasted the front half of the horde with their Ice Breath, one of the many Draconic Magics the Schnee family was capable of. It poured from their jaws, akin to liquid nitrogen, and onto the horrid beasts. Flying over the entire front line, hundreds after hundreds of Beowolves and Ursa were frozen solid. The rear of the Grimm horde was baffled, and tried to push past their frozen brethren towards the Atlesian army, with no avail.
Grimm weren't the brightest of monsters.
But even they could realize when they needed to run. But before they turned and retreated at the sight of the Dragons, the Schnee's launched a second wave of ice onto the horde. The ice billowed out and the area was soon reminiscent of the snowy fields of Atlas, their home.
There was soon no Grimm left after the attack, the remainder being shot down by the sharpshooters of the army.
Good. That takes care of the northern flank. Hope the southern flank doesn't face too many obstacles.
Nicolas and his siblings flew towards the Atlesians, and transformed back into their human forms. They landed gently in front of commander Yosif, a spry man despite his obvious age shown in his gray hair and wrinkled olive skin. As the Schnees approached, he saluted Nicolas.
“Good job luring them, Commander.” Nicolas clasped the man's hand as he congratulated the officer.
“Well, thank you. That Ice of yours really helped. Don't know if it could have gone as well without ya.”
“Come on. With you here, we probably weren't even needed. Only stopped your men from needing to resharpen their axes.”
“Thank you for the compliment, good sir.”
“Ya gonna kiss or something?” Sebastian asked, arms crossed.
This little…
“Manners, Sebastian. Manners.” Nicolas gestured to the south. “Pleasantries aside, the King needs us. Who knows what Salem has up her sleeve.”
“Understood sir.” Yosif turned and waved to his men. “We're moving out, hustle now! Gunners, make sure to rearm your ammo!”
The army mobilized and the Schnee's transformed and flew once more. They needed to cross a river nearby, nearly 200 feet across.
Clara stepped towards the lake and conjured a massive glyph, a magical power unique to the Ice Dragons. The glyph took the shape of a 2 dimensional circle with a complex snowflake pattern inside the edge. It was spread over the river and then reached the other side. It was a slightly more complex spell that allowed the dragons to freeze the surface of the water and allowed the army to cross with ease.
They flew over the soldiers as they progressed, making sure no Nevermore or Wyverns made them a quick snack. After an hour, they finally reached the area where the main army was.
Atlas took the north flank, and Menagerie took the south. But the center was truly a great host of warriors. Vale, Mistral, and Vacuo made an army to be reckoned with.
The Ice Dragons saw the Alliance and the Horde were already locked in combat.
The Alliance marched their forces forward, soldiers of the Kingdoms making the bulk of their army. Werefolk, and Vampires stood with them in the front, carving through the Grimm with blades, hammers, bullets, claws, and teeth. Witches, Warlocks, and Sorcerers were in the back, slinging elemental spells of destruction upon their foes. There were also healing witches, pulling the injured back.
There were several large horned Oni, wood armored Dryads, and one-eyed Cyclops throughout the ranks to help deal with the larger monsters. They held the ability to transform from their human forms as well, similar to the dragons. There were many more smaller Myths that rose from the shadows to save this world among the crowd.
There was also the Nikos family Iron Dragons, who hailed from Mistral. Nicolas saw their leader, Francis Nikos, slaying the enemy lines with his magnetism as swords and hammers flew in and out of their foes.
They were old friends of the Schnee's, redheaded with a cool composure. Their iron scales were indeed tougher than Nicolas’ own, but at least he could fly. Iron scales were more than triple the weight of an Ice Dragon. Not to say he would spar with old Francis anytime soon. Nicolas was glad they were here, for the Nikos stood amongst the alliance as they fought a devilish foe.
The Grimm Horde. Truly a terrifying sight. Thousands upon thousands of Beowolves. Ursa were sprinkled amongst them, but they didn't even compare to their more advanced cousins.
Deathstalkers marched against the alliance, armored scorpions as big as a small house, with claws that could cut a horse in half. King Taijito’s slithered to fight, snakes with a head on each end whose size challenged the Deathstalker. Beringals, impossibly strong Grimm made to look like Gorillas, smashed shields and tossed even the large Oni aside. Goliaths, abominations made to be the size of the elephant but infinitely more evil, crashed into the Alliance's ranks and caused havoc.
There were even more types of Grimm, creatures of darkness made for the end of the world. Too many to describe. More than Nicolas would like.
Cyclops smashed open Deathstalkers as the beasts attacked their teammates with massive stingers. Some deflected it with shields, some were caught and stung. The wounded were dragged away for the healers. Dryads stomped the Beringal’s with their oak tree legs. The melee was brutal.
The Nikos flung themselves at the King Taijito’s, their iron scales immune to the fangs of the snakes. They crushed them with ease, but there were more to fight.
The humans fought valiantly, carving and blasting away at this endless horde, determined to not let it be their end.
And in the front of the Allied Army was the King of Vale. He stood tall, and nigh invincible. Few could explain it, but he wielded a power that almost rivaled that of a Dragon. At least as much as Nicolas was willing to admit.
The King was currently cutting down a Deathstalker, the giant scorpion trying to stab him. Nicolas was readying himself to dive towards the Deathstalker, then he saw the King cut off the arm of the monster and fling it away. He did a spin move and his sword was deep in the Deathstalkers face, killing it and sending it toppling to the ground.
The King and his Elite Warriors were carving a bloody path through the Horde, devastating their enemy. ‘Who were these Elites?’, you may ask.
At his side were the Hunters. Twenty-nine human men and women who were the evolution of warriors. They were also called Dragon Blood, for their skin emanated something called Aura, the soul's power manifested in the form of a personal force shield covering the body and strength that exceeded even the strongest human. The only other creature that has Aura are Dragons that were born with this power, hence the nickname despite having no relations with the mythical creatures.
Each Hunter had a unique power of their own called “Semblances”. One could physically blend into the shadows, another could channel fire in their fingertips. The possibilities are endless.
And the King was the first Hunter, his power making him invulnerable, and to channel his strength into the warriors beside him, Human and Myth alike. That said, he has to pay attention, as a King Kaiju has snapped him up in its jaws.
Invulnerability doesn't matter if you're sitting inside a King Taijito's stomach. Maybe. But Nicolas wasn't about to let a snake eat the King and find out.
The Atlesian army crested the hill and proceeded to blast away at the Horde. The rifleman fired steadily as the frontline charged into the enemy's right flank. Axes and spears soon fell onto their foes.
Nicolas descended into the center, landing and immediately biting the head off of the King Taijito, the King falling out of its mouth. He threw its body towards the Horde, the immense body crushing dozens of Beowolves. Before it got up, he raised his hand, conjuring a small glyph that fired an ice spear into the beast's second head, killing and disintegrating it.
Nicolas turned and greeted the King. “Hello, your Majesty.”
“Gah.” The King sat up. “Hello, Nick. What took ya’ll so long?”
“What do you mean?” Nicolas asked, brow raised even though as a dragon he doesn't have one. “We're here ahead of schedule.”
The King got up and dusted himself off. “Just making chatter.” He picked his sword up. “Let's win this, shall we?”
The Ice Dragon smiled. “Let's.” And Nicolas turned and blasted the incoming monsters with a blast of his ice breath.
Sebastian joined him on the frontline, shoulder to shoulder with Nicolas and the King. Clara took up position with the Witches and Warlocks, firing Ice Shards and Ice Spears at incoming Nevermore and Griffons, as well as Icebergs as artillery into the Grimms backline.
One wave after another, they cleaved through the Grimm as the army progressed to their objective.
The Tower. It was massive, and quite intimidating. It stood thousands of feet tall, all of it dark stone and mortar. Spikes adorned everywhere, and Grimm stood and watched from every balcony and battlement.
The home of the Queen of Darkness.
Fighting their way to her would be a challenge. It would take days, maybe weeks to ascend the dreadful Tower. But luck was on their side. For Salem was confident she could defeat them all herself.
Nicolas saw her standing at the peak of her Tower. And he saw her transform. She morphed and molded into a beast of immense size. For she was the world's only Dragon of this type, A Dark Dragon.
“Fools!” Her voice echoed throughout the battlefield. “You may have reached this far! But today is when you die. This Battlefield shall be your graveyard!” Her wings lifted her up, and she descended towards the field.
“Brother! With me!” Nicolas yelled.
“Got it!” Sebastian readied for take off.
“Right behind ya!” Nicolas heard as he flew up. He didn't realize that someone had climbed onto his back.
“Hey, I'm about to fight Salem, no piggyback rides!” Nicolas yelled to his unexpected passenger.
“Sorry.” Nicolas glanced back and saw a Hunter riding his back. He tipped his physics defying cowboy hat that somehow stayed on his head. “Harold Brawren, at your service!” He bore a large scythe and a massive shotgun. He was being held on by a rope he tied around his waist to the base of Nicolas' wing.
When did he…? Oh, Clara is never going to let me live this down.
“Fine! Consider yourself deputized as the first and last dragon rider! Just don't get in the way!”
“Oh, I think you’ll be pleased with my performance.” Harold yelled into the turbulence that was the brothers' flight.
The two dragons ascended, beating their wings hard in the wind. They did have the disadvantage, for Salem was above them.
“So, the Ice Dragons want to go extinct first? With pleasure!” Salem opened her claws and swiped at Sebastian, who was already dodging.
“Too slo- AGHH!” He had been caught by her tail wrapped around his throat. Salem spun and flinged him towards the Tower, crashing into the brick. He, unfortunately, didn't even scratch the surface. He latched onto a balcony, biting into a Ursa that was standing guard. A few more jumped on him, but Nicolas didn't have the luxury of worrying about him.
Salem rapidly changed course. Nicolas fired off another breath attack, only for Salem to clamp his mouth shut, the breath chilling his cheeks. Then she flung him too. He crashed against a spot close to where Sebastian hit, and latched onto the other side of the balcony, now clear of Grimm.
“Ouch.” Sebastian was bleeding a little from a gash on his shoulder.
“Yeah. Ok. She hits pretty hard.”
“Mmmpphhh.” Nicolas remembered something and moved his back a little. “Bah. You're lucky I'm tough, ya coulda squashed me!”
“I didn't ask you to- Oh.” Nicolas and Sebastian let go and fell away as Salem blasted her breath attack at the balcony.
As he fell, Nicolas saw new Grimm on the battlements. For that was her power, to create these monsters of darkness.
He righted himself and flew back up, his brother taking the other flank.
“Too easy!” She yelled.
Salem spun in a barrel roll and tossed two Beringals at both. Sebastian had been knocked off course by a mad gorilla, but the one launched at Nicolas was blown away into dust by a massive boom. Harold's shotgun landed a great shot, allowing Nicolas to attack.
“What?!” Salem yelled in surprise.
He grabbed her shoulders and bit down on her neck. Salem yelled in rage and hatred as they fell from the sky, their wings unable to open in the melee.
Harold jumped from the Ice Dragons back and onto Salem's. He used his scythe to cut her wings. Salem screamed Bloody Mary as Harold hopped back onto Nicolas.
The Ice Dragon let go and opened his wings to catch the wind.
Salem tried to as well, but they were gone. Nicolas could see they were regenerating. He was surprised. If she was capable of regeneration, she was unstoppable.
But she didn't have the time, for she impacted the ground, crushing dozens of her biggest creatures in her crash landing.
“Come on, before she gets back up!” Sebastian flew by at rapid speeds, and his brother followed. The two descended at a breakneck speed, and Salem didn't even have the chance to get her footing. The two blasted her with a full helping of their Ice Breath. Everything around her was frozen solid.
“Spears! Hit her with Spears!” The brothers conjured ten glyphs each and formed massive Ice Spears, nearly 30 meters long. They fired them all into Salem, riddling her torso with the deadly weapons. They saw the spears hit the dirt below. The damage was was fatal.
The brothers flew around in a holding pattern, looking upon the battlefield.
Oh. My throat. *Cough* Too many breaths. *Cough* Too much Magic.
… Oh No.
The pair stared in horror. Salem wasn't dead. In fact, she only looked perturbed. They've never seen something other than a Dragon survive a Dragons Breath, much less twenty spears to the chest. Even worse, she has shaken loose the spears, ejecting them from her body like a booger from her nose. They saw she only considered it an inconvenience.
She got up and regrew her wings, dark magic drifting from her body like smoke and reforming into solid, real wings. Several Beowolves threw themselves onto her, melting into her body and healing her other wounds.
“She can't be stopped…” Sebastian said in despair.
“Kings got a plan!” Harold yelled.
“What do you mean?” Nicolas asked.
“You'll see! Drop me off and I'll let him know! You keep her busy!”
Nicolas nodded and flew back towards the front line. “Wait for me, Sebastian! Don't do anything reckless!”
Nicolas did a barrel roll as he flew over the King, dropping his Hunter right next to him. Then he flew back towards Salem.
This is gonna hurt.
She was almost fully healed. They had no time. Nicolas threw himself into the fray, straight at Salem. Crashing through a dozen variations of Grimm. His wings smacked away several more and his claws stomped down dozens of smaller Grimm.
He crashed into Salem, launching her back. He charged again and grabbed her legs, flipping himself forward, and throwing her forward. She crashed into the ground and looked angry.
“Kill him!” She pointed at Nicolas with intense hatred. Multiple Grimm charged at him. He spun around and fired another Ice Breath, turning all the Grimm around him into an ice wall.
A giant Goliath crashed through the line of iced Grimm, the unstoppable monster looking to kill the offending Dragon. Then a Nevermore descended towards him, hate burning in its red, dead eyes.
He tried to fire another breath, but it was too many, too soon.
Oh no.
It got close, then Sebastian crashed into the Nevermore, crushing it under him. Then another dragon crashed into the Goliath. Francis toppled it, then used his foot to smash it's head.
“Hey, uh, remember when you told ‘me’ to not do anything reckless?”
“Right…” Nicolas nodded at his brother's remark.
“Well, no time for “I told ya so”, get her!” Francis charged with Nicolas and Sebastian at his flanks.
“You think even the three of you can stop me? You're all Fools!” Salem counter charged. Her claws ripped the earth beneath her, and she dashed forward. She fired her breath, and dozens of Ursa joined her charge. Nicolas and Sebastian stopped and started slashing at the ones attacking them. Francis didn't and charged right on through, crushing Ursa beneath his feet.
“You think you're bad!? Come get- *CLONK*” Francis didn't get far as Salem backhanded him upside the head, grabbed his horns, and knocked his head against the ground, knocking him out. She easily picked him up and chucked him at Sebastian.
He didn't evade in time and got stuck under the impossibly heavy dragon. “Aghh, you're… heavy… gah!” Sebastian couldn't move.
Nicolas finished off the Ursa and charged again.
“You!” Salem and him clashed in a flurry of claws and teeth. He bit off a chunk of her shoulder, and she slashed his flank, blood coming from his wound.
“Frickin’” He punches her in the face. “That hurt!”
“So will this!” She bit his leg, and he yelled in pain. She lifted him and chucked him away. He landed with a thud, his leg unable to support him. He had landed on an Ursa. The beast was dead, but several of its spikes were sticking in Nicolas' back.
Multiple Beowolf jumped onto Nicolas, trying to bite past his scales, but we're unsuccessful.
Salem approached with anger dripping from her lips. “Time for you to die, cold one.” Her head was lowered, teeth bared, and ready to kill.
There was nothing Nicolas could do. She was simply too strong and fast.
There was a symphony of trumpets that sounded from the alliance ranks. Salem stopped in her tracks and raised her head to see what the humans were doing.
“Queen of Darkness, your end has come. We have you right where we want you,” yelled the King of Vale.
“You have nothing, pretender.” Salem shouted. “You all die today, and that will be your only story.”
“Not quite.” The King raised a silver flag, prompting nearly two dozen humans to jump onto the shoulders of a dozen Dryads. They all wore monochrome capes, ranging from black to white, with hoods hiding their faces.
“SILVER COMPANY! ATTACK!” The King's voice rang out and these humans threw back their hoods. From them came a massive silver flash that poured over the Horde and Salem. The Alliance was unharmed by this new ally. The light covered Nicolas, feeling like a wave of fresh woodland air was coming over him.
The Grimm? Not so lucky.
Beowolves disintegrated on sight, Ursa were blasted into smoke. Deathstalkers staggered along with other large Grimm, partially turning to stone, then shaking it off.
But Salem. Salem frothed with anger as she was blown back by the flash as if she had been hit by a tidal wave. She landed and rolled to a stop. The Grimm around her tried to reach her, but either crumbled into smoke or were too weak to help her.
She rounded with rage. “AGHHH! KILL THEM! KILL THEM ALL!”
Flying Grimm, coming from the higher floors of the Tower, descended towards the Alliance. Winged Griffons made to be the mythical creature. Insectoid Lancers made to be like the hornet but the size of a house. Chimera's that bore spear tails and razor claws.
The King gave another order. “Hit Them Again!”
The Silver Company launched another flash of silver light that poured out and above. All of the Grimm in the air were vaporized. Even more of the Grimm on the ground were destroyed. Salem was pushed back even further, her scales disappearing in the attack.
“Again!” They fired another flash. Even the Goliaths were having trouble staying in one piece. Deathstalkers attempted to shake off the stone, but many lost a claw or their tail. There wasn't a King Taijito that still had both heads.
“Again! Battalion, forward!” The company fired another flash, with their Dryad companions marching forward along the army. There barely stood any Grimm in the Horde. Salem was sent flying again. This time, after she lands, she launches her breath attack to create as many Grimm as possible. Nearly a hundred Ursa charge out to quickly attack the front line.
“Again!” The Silver company launches another flash. The Ursa are blown away before they can even close the gap. Some of the company expends too much effort and have to be taken off the Dryads shoulder and pulled back to the healers
The Alliance reaches the trio of Dragons, their ranks enveloping them. Healer witches begin treating Nicolas’ wounds, with others on his brother and Francis.
Salem, pushed against the wall of her Tower, begins to be surrounded by the Alliance and their mysterious company. The last of her Grimm in the field have fallen and more Grimm jump from the battlements in an attempt to hold them off.
Nicolas, not content with staying in the back, wobbles forward towards the scene with his healers trying to pull him back.
He sees that Salem is attempting to channel a magic spell. “She's about to attack with magic! Make a Ward!” Nicolas yells.
Salem smiles. “Too late!” And she activates it, launching thousands of spikes from the walls of her fortress.
“Again.” The King orders. The Silver Company launched another flash, turning all of the spikes into harmless smoke. The Grimm jumping from the battlements are destroyed, and Salem is pushed into the wall of the Tower.
“Again” Another flash. Salem is pinned against the stone, powerless and unable to move. “Again.” Another flash. More Silver Company warriors have to be pulled back. “Again.” Another flash. More and more are fired. Finally, Salem is half turned to stone and the Company stands at a dozen still standing.
Nicolas has turned to his human form, with a walking stick to support his bad leg. Clara's helping him along, and they approach the King, who is standing directly in front of the Queen of Darkness.
The battle was over. The Alliance had won.
Now, the leaders assembled around Salem to hear the King's verdict.
The King of Vale raises his sword, holding it upright. “For too long, you have plagued the people of this world. Your monsters have left a great many dead and many more grieving. Your ambition has burned the land and bloodstained the fields. Your hatred had poisoned the hearts of your followers, who sought destruction to please you.”
“Go to hell, pretender.” Salem spat on the shoes of the King. He was unperturbed.
“For your crimes against humanity. For your crimes against our new friends, the Myths. For this island shall be named “The Never-Moors”, never again to be inhabited and blockaded forever. For you, you shall be executed immediately. Beheaded by my hand.”
The leaders assembled nodded their approval.
Salem merely laughed. “Kill me?” She laughed some more, coughing up blood as she hackled in what appeared to be a very funny inside joke. “Fools. Fools! The lot of you!”
“Fools? And why are we fools? You're the one who lost. And is the one dying today.”
“I can't be killed by your paltry mortal weapon.” Salem chuckled some more. “You can try. I will outlive you all. And when your precious world is at its weakest, I will return. And I will raze it all to the ground. The blood of your descendents will flow in the streets. And I will have my victory.”
“... Does the Guilty have any ‘other’ last words before her sentence is carried out.”
“... Go ahead. For I will have the last laugh.”
The King marched forward, and with a swing of his sword, lopped Salem's Dragon head off. It turned to smoke before it hit the ground, along with her entire body. The smoke coiled and spun, flying upwards. It kept going until it reached the top floor of her Tower, where it entered and locked the window behind her.
“Well… That's that then.” The King sheathed his weapon and turned towards the Alliance leaders. “We’ll have the Warlocks place a mighty barrier spell around this Tower, just in case she wasn't lying. She won't be going anywhere. As for the island, we saw the pits are still expelling Grimm. We’ll need to blockade the entire thing. I’ll need all of you to assist Vale in this task. Is that acceptable?”
“Aye, sir.” Nicolas approved. The others have their approval and their vow of allegiance.
“Thank you all. Today marks a new chapter for our world. Today, the world is free. And.” The King approached Nicolas. “I hope that the Myths become a greater part of our world.”
“We will. You Humans ain't half bad.” Nicolas reached his hand out, and the King shook it in friendship.
Later on, the Army made camp to spend the night around the Tower. The Warlocks needed time to place the spell. Sebastian was stuck in the healers' tents, and Clara was busy mixing potions in a small party of witches and Fire Dragons, so Nicolas decided to sate his curiosity.
He made his way towards the Silver Company quarters. For he was curious as to who they were.
He got to the tent, and someone was stepping out. Harold Brawren.
“Oh, it's you.” Nicolas said in disgust.
“Oh, come now, partner. We did great out there.” Harold patted Nicolas on the back.
“It is dishonorable for a Dragon to allow someone to ride them. You humiliated me.”
“Hey, what about them stories of Human riding Dragons? Ain't they also dishonored?”
“... There is only one exception. A Dragon,” Nicolas held up a finger, “may only be ridden by their spouse or romantic partner. That's the one rule.”
“Ohhhh… I understand. That's an intimate thing. For your wife.” He stood in front of Nicolas. “My apologies. I am willing to make it up to you.”
“*Sigh* Well, at least I don't have a wife yet. And honestly, you already have. Shooting that beringal was a nice piece of work.”
“Thank you.”
“But… maybe if you could tell me about those silver lads.”
“Hmm… don't see why not. Walk with me.” And the two walked down through the tents and towards the dinner area.
“So, who are they?”
“They're Hunters, like me.”
“I thought there were only thirty of you?”
“Well… there are actually 54 of us, the King included. But two dozen of us, earlier in the campaign, had been sent to clear out this nest of Grimm Griffons in some forest or whatever. But when they got lost for about 2 weeks. But they came back, and they all had magic Silver eyes that could blast Grimm apart with a glance. The Hunters couldn't explain how though.”
“Amazing.” They walked a little further. “I look forward to seeing how their future unfolds. Times are changing, Harold.”
“That they are.” Before Nicolas could ask some more, there were men running with buckets of water towards what appeared to be a fire in a tent. The same tent Clara was partying in.
“Oh, come on.”
300 years later.
Klein Seiben
Klein flipped the page on the storybook, reaching the part where the children's great-aunt Clara accidentally burnt down a tent in the process of trying to make a combination of Fire Dragons Breath, Whiskey, and Phosphorus.
“Then, Clara had to make amends by building them a new tent.” Klein read. “Unfortunately, she didn't realize most people don't sleep on ice cubes, as she made the tent out of Ice Magic. The Fire Dragon simply stood next to it, and the whole thing melted.”
The three Schnee children sitting around him giggled at the shenanigans. Whitley, the youngest, might have been listening but he was too busy chewing his teething ring sitting in Klein's lap. Weiss, the middle child, was looking over his shoulder to see the pictures, her feet on several pillows to reach it. Her tiny arms were grasping his shirt, giggling in delight at the good ending of the story. Winter, the eldest, was sitting to the right of Klein and reading along with him.
They all had the same white hair, blue eyes, and snow white skin as their ancestors did, as well as their growing blue dragon horns on the top of their head. And their developing dragon powers. The three of them were dressed in their pajamas, ready for bed, but getting to the end of their story book.
They sat on Winter's bed in the children's room, a large bedroom that was bigger than a regular apartment. There was a play area, complete with two toy boxes and a short but long bookcase, in the corner. A bathroom to the side. Two full sized beds and two dressers, one each for Weiss and Winter. In the other corner opposite of the play area was a crib and a third dresser for Whitley.
They each could have had their own room in the Schnee Manor, but their mother insisted on them sharing a room in their youth.
“After the war, Nicolas started the Schnee Dust Company. He led with wisdom and perseverance. Through the hard times and the bad, he and his siblings stood together through thick and thin. The Company grew and gained renown around the world, cementing the Ice Dragons family in the world stage for years to come. And they all live happily ever after. And may their descendents live happily ever after as well.” Then Klein gently closed the book.
“Aw, is that it?” Weiss asked, eager for more action in he story.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. And that means, bedtime, little ones.” He picked up Whitley and carried him to his crib, with Weiss and Winter following behind. Winter held the end of Klein's vest while Weiss ran circles around all three of them.
“Um, Klein? I have a question.” Winter asked.
“Yes, of course. You can ask me anything.” Klein set Whitley down and pulled the covers over the sleepy child.
“Is… is she coming back?”
“Who is?”
“Salem…”
“No way!” Weiss exclaimed. “Grandpa and the allies totally defeated her, and she's never coming back.”
“Weiss. Klein needs to answer.”
Klein knelt down to be at Winter's height. “Oh, darling. I know it's scary. But the Warlocks truly did their job very well. She's not been seen in 300 years, nothing has entered or left the Tower, and the world is stronger and more peaceful than ever.”
“Yeah, and she’ll never come out of her Tower, because then Winter will summon her birds to knock her down, then I’ll blow her away.” Weiss tilted her head back and blew some cold breath into the air. Klein was soon covered in small bits of snow.
“Oh ho ho, yes indeed. She truly has great adversaries waiting for her out here, doesn't she?”
“I suppose…” Winter looked down in uncertainty.
“Oh, come here, Dove.” Klein pulled in Winter for a comforting hug. “You too, Snowflake.”
Weiss jumped into Klein's big arms, her arms trying to hug both him and her sister, yet her arms were too small. Klein let them go, yet still kneeled, a hand on each girl's shoulder.
“Even if Salem was to escape, she would have to contend with your mother. And Willow’s even stronger than your great uncle Sebastian, better with magic than your great aunt Clara, and wiser than your Grandfather Nicolas.” Klein booped both Weiss’ and Winter's nose, making them giggle a little. “She often goes to the Watchtower with your grandfather to make sure everything runs smoothly. And I know one day, it’ll be your turn to join your mother on those trips.”
Klein stood up, taking each girl's hand, leading them to bed. “And while I know that you’ll never have to fight Salem, I also know that if you did, she wouldn't stand a chance against any of you. Not Winter, not Weiss, not even little Whitley.”
They had reached the other side of the room, and each girl climbed into their beds. Winter pulled her covers over her lap, but still sat up in bed. “You don't know that. We're still little.”
“Oh, Winter dear. I know you're talented, both of you. After all,” Klein tapped Winters hand, “you've already mastered summonings. That's not an easy thing to do.”
Winter didn't respond, but lifted her hand, palm upwards. A white glyph appeared in it and it spun rapidly. Once it reached its apex, it conjured a turtle neck dove. Not the genuine article, but a creature that was made of magic energy pulled from Dust. Its feathers were snow white, its eyes blue.
“I did master it, yet Father says that's not difficult…” Winter stated, a little saddened by her father's words.
“What a load of rubbish,” Klein exclaimed. His iris had turned red, and his semblance had turned to him into Grumpy. “He’s da typa dunderhead to say countin’ ta 10,000 is difficult, yet will tell ya that buildin’ a house is a breeze.”
“Klein. I know you're just defending me…” Winter replied.
“No way!” Weiss had stood on the bed, hand on her hips, whispering loudly to not wake Whitley. “If summonings are easy peasy, then how come you're the only Schnee besides mom who can do them?”
“Weiss. I-”
“No buts!” Weiss pointed at Winter with a fire in her eyes. “You are amazing. You're really strong. And I will not allow more bad mouthing of you, especially from yourself!”
“Wise words, Snowflake. Also, you must know you're amazing too, don't you?”
“What?” Weiss tilted her head in question. “Uh, well, I can't summon at the moment…” Her hands behind her back as she had trouble maintaining eye contact.
“Preposterous.” Klein stood up and walked over to Weiss. His iris had turned to blue, meaning he was Doc now. “Why, your elemental spells are incredible. From making the smallest ice cube to conjuring a full blown frost storm. You have full control over your ice spells proficiency. Why, I’ve even noticed you dabbling in other elements. Wind as well?”
“Oh, yeah! I can make my ice bigger!” Weiss said as she spread her arms wide.
“Excellent, Excellent!” Klein exclaimed as he picked up Weiss by the armpits and gently swung her around in circles. “A true master of spells, and I'm sure you're to be scrappy too. Both of you.”
Klein put Weiss on his shoulder, and while holding her hand to keep her steady, he reaches a hand to Winter. She hesitates, yet throws the covers off and takes Klein's hand, lifting her up to his other shoulder.
He spins around and around, holding the girls steady as he goes. “Why, a master of spells and a master of summonings, and so young too.” Winter started giggling and Weiss was hugging Klein's balding head as she laughed her heart out. “Not to mention you're both top of the class in school. What you can't accomplish, not even I know.”
He stopped spinning and slowly flopped both onto Winter's bed, letting them both settle down. The three giggled for a few more moments, then heard Whitley stir in his sleep and froze. They kept still, and Whitley became a quiet sleeper again.
“Alright, now it's really bed time…” Klein told the girls. They nodded in agreement, and Weiss hopped out of Winter's bed as her sister moved to get back under the covers.
“Thank you, Klein.” Winter said, her shoulders held a little higher.
“Anytime, dear.” Klein tapped Winter's hand. She laid her head on the pillow as Klein tucked her in. He pulled out Winter's blue wool mittens that he fit on top of her horns so she didn't tear into the pillow.
He turned to tuck Weiss in too, yet saw she was sitting up still. He walked over and sat on the bed next to her, for she was deep in thought. “It’s a little hard to put you to bed if you're not laying down.”
“I know. But I had a question.”
“Ah, a question. I’d love to hear it.”
“...”
“What's wrong?”
“Father says I shouldn't ask silly questions outside of class.”
“Oh, Snowflake, no question is silly to me. Unless it's a question about the tickle monster. Is it about the tickle monster?”
“No…”
“Then it's not silly.”
“... Ok.” Weiss took a deep breath, and grabbed Klein's hand with both of hers. “You know how in the story, Grandpa Nicolas said only his wife was allowed to ride him?”
Klein nodded, a lot more serious now. “Yes.”
“Father says that only a girl can ride a boy dragon, and only a boy can ride a girl dragon.”
“He does say that, even if it's not true.”
“And you know…” Weiss' face scrunched up in thought. Then she looked up at Klein. “Wait, it's not true?”
“Of course not. After all, Harold rode your Grandpa, and he was a boy.”
“Oh. I guess he did.” Weiss looked up thoughtfully. “But no, I meant… like… the word is too big…”
“...Romantically.” Klein guessed.
“Yes. That one.”
“What about it?”
Weiss clutched Klein's hand tightly. Her eyes were downcast to her lap. “... What if… instead of a story… where Prince Charming flew off on his Dragon Wife’s back… I instead had…”
Klein put his second hand over Weiss', feeling he knew what she was going to say next.
Weiss continued. “What if… I had a Princess wife ride my back instead…?” She went silent as she waited for Klein's response. “A girl is prettier after all…”
“Oh Snowflake.” Klein held up Weiss’ hands. “No need to be nervous. That's perfectly acceptable that you could feel this way for a girl.”
Weiss looked up at Klein with sparkles in her eyes. “Really? Is it fine? What about what Father said?”
“Of course it's fine. Love knows not the fabric of reality, but the heart and soul of two spirits in love. If you find yourself a wonderful woman to love for yourself,” He stopped to think for a moment, “and she's not a dastardly villain in disguise, don't let anything in the world keep you apart. Even your Father.”
“Oddly specific about the villain.”
“Ex girlfriend in highschool. Long story. I might tell you when you're older.”
“Hmm. So…” Weiss looked a little nervous again. “Should we tell Father that I like… girls?”
“...” Klein knew he was a terrible liar to these children, so he didn't bother.
“Oh…” Weiss deflated a little, knowing her father was a stubborn man.
Klein got an idea. “Why don't we tell your mother? I'm certain Willow will support you.”
“But Mom tells Father everything…”
“Oh, yes… I suppose she does.”
“Klein. Would it be okay if you kept this between us?”
“Of course. Your secret is safe with me.”
Klein spotted Winter, still awake, pointing to herself and mouthing “Me too.” He smiled at that.
Weiss nodded. Then she tapped his hand again. “Another question. Um, what if it ‘was’ a boy? I think they're cool too. I just think a girl would be pretty, and smell nice.”
“Both are good. Girls, Boys, Dragons. What matters is who ‘you’ love.”
Weiss flopped down to the bed, her head planted on the pillow and her eyes wide. “Whoa.”
“Whoa indeed.” Klein pulled the covers up to her chin and tucked Weiss in. “I appreciate that you came to me with this. It truly means the world that you felt you could come to me with something big like this.” He then fit on Weiss’ horns the mittens.
“Well, that was easy. You're Klein after all.” Weiss said as she smiled at him.
“Oh, darling, I’m the Butler though.”
“You're more than that. And you always will be.”
Klein’s eyes watered at Weiss' words. “Thank you.” He said as he clasped his hands together against his chest.
Weiss smiled, then she closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep.
Klein stood up and proceeded to walk out of the room. “Good night, children.”
“Good night, Klein.” Weiss said.
“Good night, Klein.” Winter said.
He walks out, and closes the door behind him, happy at the secret Weiss entrusted to him.
Though, now he had two to keep. Weiss likes both genders. And Winter likes both genders as well, a secret she told him 3 years ago. An interesting combo to be sure. He wondered if Whitley would tell him the same thing.
The day Jacques finds out will be tragic, however. The old toad has never accepted the real world. Only his own reality and whatever reality gets him more money. What Willow saw in that man, he’ll never know.
Klein stood in the hallway of the immense mansion and promised himself to stand by the children when the time came. He may have been an employee, but as a man, he wanted these children to have at least a father figure that accepted them. Until then, he hoped Jacques would become a better man by the time Winter and Weiss came out to him.
Heaven only knows what will happen after that.