Eartakiel: He stood within the vastness of space, staring off into the distance, inhaling sharply before placing his hand on the base of his warhammer. Runic symbols glowed a bright orange on the metallic parts of his hammer, glowing brighter before transporting his being to Valkun's Kingdom.
His arrival's glow faded, and Eartakiel stood on the verge of a world born of flame.
Overhead stretched an infernal scarlet sky veiled in black smoke, where embers drifted like dying stars. Heat swelled through the air, a heavy, living warmth that made every exhale taste of ash. Beneath his feet, molten rivers coursed through the cracked obsidian plains, glowing like veins of burning blood pulsing through the body of the world.
Mountains of volcanic glass jutted upward like crippled talons, their peaks melting beneath the relentless glare of the planet's core. Bursts of light from distant eruptions split the horizon in violent flashes, their echoes rolling like thunder across the barren expanse. The ground quivered in erratic rhythm, keeping time with the fiery heartbeat that throbbed below.
Across the molten fields, dragonoid beings labored in chains. Smaller, frail figures gathered shards of lava crystal and chunks of volcanic ore while towering enforcers, ancient scarred dragonkin clad in scaled armor, loomed over them.
Their cracked maws panted heat as they swung whips of molten metal, each hiss and snap cutting through the air with brutal authority. Work faster. Harder. Never rest. That was the language of their roars.
Caves riddled the land like gaping wounds, flickering inwardly where some lesser lifeforms curled together, either sleeping in exhaustion or taking refuge from the overseers' wrath. And large above that cruel, blazing empire towered Valkun's citadel, a dead indicator of blackened stone and rivers of lava, beating light down into the land below.
It seemed to breathe with the planet, alive with rage, power, and a promise of fire unending. This was Valkun's domain, a planet born in rage and ruled by fire.
"Good heavens... what kind of world is this? Is this why Valkun won't let us come here?"
He whispered, the sound almost muted by the endless roar of flame. Each step sent waves of heat rippling beneath his giant rocky feet, and molten light danced across his armor in shades of gold and orange.
Before him stretched a massive stone bridge suspended above living rivers of lava that moved like a raging sea. Jagged spires of blackened rock rose from the depths, and the citadel loomed in the distance, carved from volcanic obsidian, its veins swirling with molten light.
He walked forward steadily, gripping his warhammer tight, and raised his voice into the smoldering air. "Valkun! Are you here?! I have something very important to tell you!"
His echoes fled into the fiery abyss. Then came a heavy groan, iron grinding against iron, reverberating from deep within the citadel. The ground trembled as the magma veins stirred awake, pulsing with a low, living hum in response to his call.
Inside, Valkun's throne room opened before him, immense, like a cathedral of fire and fury. Obsidian pillars spiraled upward, their surfaces wrapped in molten streams that slithered like serpents through the air. The floor shimmered with glass born from heat, each of Eartakiel's steps softening it beneath his feet.. Shadows twisted across the walls, alive and restless, as if the flames themselves bowed to the one who ruled them.
At the center of the chamber stood Valkun's throne, a jagged monument forged of scorched metal and emberstone. It towered like the crown of a dying god, blackened and burning in quiet majesty. Upon it sat Valkun, a silhouette of raw, chaotic power, his form radiating waves of unbearable heat. His molten eyes glowed faintly through the curls of smoke spiraling upward around him.
Valkun: He leaned forward slightly, resting one hand against the arm of his throne, his fingers carving shallow grooves into the molten stone beneath. The air shimmered around him, distorting his shape. "What is it, Eartakiel..." A couple of female dragonoids were on their knees next to his throne, chains shackling their necks as they leaned into Valkun's legs. "Make it quick, I already don't like you being here."
Eartakiel: "I have discovered something, very unfortunate."
Valkun: "What did you find?"
Eartakiel: "Monse and Wiliaquo have fallen in love with each other. I confronted them on the outskirts of the timeline."
Valkun: His hands gripped his armrests, crushing the stone beneath as he stood, rage boiling in his eyes. The female dragonoids shrank back, murmuring uneasily. "They... What?" He strode down the hall toward Eartakiel, each step sending small tremors through the molten floor. "Are you certain of what you saw?"
Eartakiel: "Yes. They were on a human-like date. I heard a bit of their conversation."
Valkun: "SUCH DISGUSTING BEHAVIOR!" He erupted suddenly, lava and fire bursting from the pits on his shoulders, the heat bending the air around him. "We must strike them at once for their actions against nature!"
Eartakiel: He lifted a hand slightly, the runes on his warhammer glowing faintly in response to his tension. "Now wait, should we not just simply confront them? This is their first-ever action against our civilization. I understand your rules, but-"
Valkun: He slammed his claw into the armrest, sending sparks flying across the chamber. "Then you understand enough, love is a direct violation of the natural order, ALL ELEMENTAL forces should be created by the flow of the laws, not through love. Do not let their delusions cloud your judgement, Eartakiel. You should have killed them immediately, but I understand why you came to me, so I will not hold that against you."
Eartakiel: He lowered his head, gripping the handle of his hammer, the glow reflecting in his eyes. The sharpness in Valkun's words weighed heavily, and his silence stretched, almost echoing off the molten walls. "..."
Valkun: "If you won't help me deal with this, then just stay here, I do not need such uselessness to stand in my way..." He turned sharply, walking past Eartakiel toward his volcanic runic gateway, sparks flying from his claws with every step.
Eartakiel: He straightened his posture, the heat of the room pressing against him as he took a deliberate step forward. "What really happened to Gena..."
Valkun: He froze mid-step, head snapping toward him. "What?..."
Eartakiel: His fists clenched around the warhammer, the runes brightening with tension. "You said that you were attacked, both of you were, yet they barely injured you and killed her? The way you spoke of her at her funeral was blatantly disrespectful; you hardly even mentioned her name. This mystery figure has attacked once, and never again? Only to you two? Your story has holes, Valkun...What really happened?"
Valkun: His eyes narrowed, glowing molten bright, smoke curling from his nostrils as heat warped the air around him. He turned slowly, the fury in his posture radiating outward, fire licking at the edges of his form. "You dare question my word? I am a LORD, and so are you; we are practically brothers and yet you disrespect me so?!"
Eartakiel: He slammed the handle of his warhammer against the ground, shaking the throne room, embers and dust leaping from the cracks. "We are all family! You disrespect all of us with such hateful speech! If you will not reveal the truth to me, then I have no choice but to assume you staged it and murdered Gena yourself! And if that is the case, then I will act upon my own will."
Valkun: He stared him down in silence, chest heaving, the floor vibrating under his weight. Slowly, a roaring aura of burning red fire erupted around him. Magma-like claws formed on his hands, glowing like molten steel as he took a step forward. "So be it."