TriVerse: Bloom of the Forgotten soul

tyrant's wrath( part 2)

The Colosseum trembled.

Not from roars. Not from stomps. But from the raw, vibrating silence that followed Olka’s knight defeat and his surrender .

His cracked gauntlet dripped blood onto the marble arena. His eyes—red as burning coals—locked onto Jena, who stood tall, calm, and blazing with soul light.

Olka: (growling) You shame me. You shame the flame.

Jena: (steady) I honored it. I fought with truth. You fought with rage.

Olka: Silence! I refuse to deliver the Crystal Nest to a cursed girl wielding twin soul.

From the Rune Throne above, the Second Prince stood. His expression was calm, but his voice sliced like a blade wrapped in silk

Second Prince: The Nest was promised. The oath was etched into drake's honour. You break it because you were broken by a child.

Olka: Don’t lecture me, half-breed. You wear your impurity like silk, hoping it’ll pass as strength. A Feydragon and Drake? That’s not heritage — that’s heresy.

Murmurs rippled. The council flinched. Even the Colosseum’s ancient runes pulsed with unease.

Second Prince: (stepping forward) You mistake mixed blood for diluted legacy. What I carry spans two worlds. What you carry... is a throne built on rot.

Olka: Only pure bloods deserve the crown! And if blood won’t silence your rebellion, power will.

With a roar, Olka tore the dullahan mana core from its forged casing and pressed it into his own chest. The fusion ignited instantly — veins turned pitch-black, his heart pulsed with corrupted flame, and he grown wings cracked open into jagged mana blades.

Olka: (snarling) Witness flame forged in grief!

He unleashed a blast — jagged, screaming with spectral energy — directly at Jena, intending to erase her soul .

She didn’t flinch.

Instead, she reached into her satchel and clasped the soul shard Kebla had given her — Salyra’s fragment pulsing with ancestral warmth.

Jena: (quietly) I remember her fire… and I won’t let it be silenced.

The shard pulsed once—then dissolved into her chest.

Suddenly, a crystalline aura erupted, webbing outward like strings of fate.

Runes spiraled from her feet. Threads of memory, rage, and promise etched into the air around her, forming a radiant Mana Circle. Her silhouette blurred, then clarified — taller, glowing, her wings now runic ribbons stitched with light.

She was no longer Jena alone.

She was EX Marionettist-tier Mana Dragonoid — bearer of two souls, controller of mana , and wielder of ancestral vengeance.

Kebla: (from the stands, awe-struck) She merged it. The shard—the soul—the prophecy. She’s real.

Second Prince: (softly) The threads answer her now.

Olka' blast struck her Mana Circle… and shattered into harmless particles, absorbed .

Olka: (staggering) What trick is this?!

Jena: (voice layered and calm) No trick. Just mana itself. Yours tried to erase. Mine chooses to honor.

She raised her clawed hand — strings of mana flaring like shooting stars — and twisted the mana forward. Her circle surged, rewinding Olka’s corrupted energy into its original form: fear.

Jena: Your rage was born of shame. Your strength, fused by stolen souls. I carry souls who chose to live.

Olka: (breathing heavily) You… can’t win. If I fall, I take the throne with me.

Jena: Then fall knowing it was held by someone who never deserved it.

She stepped forward, and her mana pulled Olka’s currepted energy from his core — to destroy. The corrupted shard  glowed briefly in Olka’s chest, then dissolved gently into light.

Second Prince: (whispers) olka… rest now.

Olka fell to his knees.

The Colosseum didn’t roar.

It knelt.

Vel'seran carry the egg and placed in Jena's hand and thanked her for saving the egg the second prince fulfilled drake's promise and gave the crystal nest  they part ways as Kebla begins training to become second prince's knight and look at the sky and wonder when they will meet again

jena and vel'seran travel through The Feydragon Forest looms. Ancient trees curve like guardians. Magic pulses faintly in the air — primal, fragile. Jena walks slowly, cradling the dragon egg close to her chest, her boots pressing into moss that glows faintly beneath the weight of old secrets.

Vel'seran thought (She’s changed.

This isn't the same girl who once sought only the Pillar. She’s walked through loss, betrayal, and wonder)

She’s  who faced ancient truths and bonded with beings older than legend. And now… she walks into a storm.

Jena (thoughts): Why does the forest feel colder than before… like it remembers blood?

Suddenly, the trees tremble.

A presence slices through the forest  calm but frightening.

The ground splits.

A roar — twisted, guttural, not quite a voice — echoes. Branches snap. Roots curl. A creature bursts into the clearing, wings dragging shadows behind it.

Kaelor, the Dragon-Dullahan. Once wise. Now broken. His jaws drip ether-black flame. His eyes… hollow voids where words no longer exist.

Kaelor (growling): "GRRUHHHHHHHHHHH."

Without the olka's command Kaelor gone berserk

Jena stumbles back, shielding the egg.

Then — a gleaming flash of wings.

Vel’Seran descends, flames trailing from his breath, eyes locked with Kaelor’s.

Vel’Seran: “You shouldn't be here, Kaelor. Your war is ancient. This body will make you a lost soul.”

Kaelor: "GGRRRRHHHHHHHHHH."

Vel'seran concluded he lost all sense of reasoning.

He charges.

The clash is thunderous.

Fire crystal meets necrotic flame. Mana barriers shatter. Trees ignite and scream with old magic. Vel’Seran tries everything — spiral dives, heart-beam strikes — but Kaelor is relentless. Endless.

Jena can only watch, trembling.

Jena (whispers): “You said you’d survive this…”

Vel’Seran (mid-flight): “I lied. To protect you.”

Kaelor lands a brutal strike.

Vel’Seran crashes to the earth, breathing raggedly. His body glows with unstable energy — his dragon heart flaring uncontrollably.

Jena (shouting): “What are you doing?! Vel’Seran — stop!”

Vel’Seran: “I am. I’m stopping him.”

Vel’Seran locks his eyes on Jena one last time. His voice is faint, almost fading beneath the roar of Kaelor's advance.

Vel’Seran: “When the egg hatches… tell him who I was. Tell him he was born of light — not vengeance.”

Jena races forward but mana pulses shove her back.

Vel’Seran’s body detonates in a radiant flare — like a dragon-shaped nova. Kaelor shrieks — more a death-wail than roar — and disintegrates into shadow fragments.

The forest goes silent. No wind. No whisper.

Just dust.

Jena stumbles into the ash. Vel’Seran is gone.

She kneels, body shaking, heart broken.

The egg pulses. Glows. Cracks.

And then… emerges a hatchling. Tiny, crystal scales. Eyes big as dawn. He looks at her — with Vel’Seran’s gentleness.

Hatchling: “Mama?”

Jena sobs, pulling him close.

Jena: “You’ll never be alone. Not again.”

She sobs with full of guilt and powerless ness of stopping the sacrifice

but the hatching with a soft voice

“Mama?”

Jena blinks — stunned, breath halting.

Jena (softly): “Don’t call me that. I… I was just supposed to protect you. That was the promise. Carry you. Deliver you safely. Just the guardian.”

She runs her thumb gently across the hatchling’s head, feeling his heartbeat. It pulses against hers.

Jena (voice catching): “But he... Vel’Seran... he gave everything. Wings, breath, soul. I didn’t ask him to die for me. He should be here — you should be saying that word to him.”

Tears begin to fall, quiet and hot against her cheeks.

Jena: “I was chasing the Pillar, trying to understand who I am. And along the way, I met people who believed in me more than I believed in myself. Vel did. Kebla did. Even the Second Prince saw something.”

She holds the dragon closer.

Jena (with rising strength): “But it was you — you said it aloud. You gave me a purpose

I never expected. Not warrior. Not guardian. Not chosen. Mama.”

She exhales slowly, grounding herself against the pain.

Jena:

“So maybe it’s true. Maybe I’m not just chasing relics anymore. Maybe I’m building something. A legacy. A life.”

She smiles — shaky but real.

Jena (softly): “I’ll teach you about stars and promises and how memory can be both weapon and gift. I’ll tell you who Vel was — not just how he died, but how he lived. How he waited for you.”

The hatchling nuzzles her chest, releasing a low purr — bright and pulsing like starlight reborn.

Jena (firmly): “You won’t be alone. And neither will I. From this moment forward, we walk together. Through ash. Through flame. And one day… I’ll find the Pillar. Not for me. But for us.”

She wraps her wings around the hatching.

Feylight Province, one year after Olka’s fall

Jena's days were filled with light, laughter, and the occasional burst of crystal-sneezes from the hatchling nestled in her pack. Missions across fractured lands brought her honor, whispers of her feats, and moments of joy

no scroll ever could’ve predicted. She became a symbol — the Tyrant Killer — her name etched into tavern songs and feydragon's banners.

But it was the hatchling’s silence that finally halted her stride.

She noticed it one morning: his eyes just as curious, his scales just as radiant… but he hadn’t grown. Not a horn thicker, not a wing longer.

In the mist-tangled hills, she sought out a Green Dragon Mage — known for healing growth-stasis among common dragon.

Jena: “He hasn’t grown since last solstice. He should be able to talk by now.”

Mage: (after a long scan, runes shimmering along her claws) “His soul-thread is intact. But it’s locked. He needs a Blue Crystal — pure, uncorrupted, bonded to crystal starlight.”

Jena: “Then I’ll find one.”

Mage: “You can’t. Not now.”

The Blue Crystals grow near the ancient Pillar of Wisdom

the very relic Jena once pursued before fate redirected her.

But now the Pillar is under tight lockdown… guarded by Prince Kaiser, the King's favored son and an obsessive defender of sacred relics.

He is volatile. Paranoid. Some say he’s begun rewriting the Pillar’s own runes to suit his vision of order.

Mage: “He fears anyone touched by prophecy. Even you. If he senses you're near… chaos won’t just break loose — it will hunt you.”

Jena looked down at the hatchling, curled gently around her hand.

Jena: (softly) “Then let chaos come. If that’s the price of keeping him alive… I’ll pay it.”

the green dragon mage used her appraisal magic and she ask.

Green Dragon Mage: (voice cutting through the hush) “You’ve not given him a name.”

Jena: (startled, eyes flicking up) “No. I was waiting… I didn’t know it was urgent.”

The Mage tilted their scaled head, robes rustling. Their eyes—silver-veined with age—narrowed, then widened with genuine disbelief.

Green Dragon Mage: “Urgent? Child, it’s essential. His path bends the moment you speak it aloud.”

Jena: (slowly stands) “But he’s so young… what power could a name possibly hold?”

Mage: (approaches) “Power older than bloodlines. Each soul walks longer than any flesh can carry it. Naming isn’t choice—it’s remembrance.”

Jena looked back at the sleeping hatchling. A claw twitched. A wing flicked.

Jena: “Remembrance… of what?”

Mage: (crouching beside her) “Some souls arrive quiet. Clean. But others? They arrive bombarded. Fragmented. As if bits of old selves trail after them, echoing unresolved lives.”

Jena: (softly) “Are you saying he’s lived before?”

Mage: “Not lived—been. Essence doesn't tether to time. A soul may weave for an epoch a dozen ways before ever finding form. Dragons, especially… they carry two : a mana heart, which controls flow; and a mana soul, where power nests.”

Jena’s voice dipped with awe.

Jena: “then why are you hesitant suggest a random name .”

Mage: (nods) “Without alignment, the bonding fails. A mismatched name seals his soul, like a door locked from both sides. But a true name…”

Jena: “ will It opens the flow.”

Mage: “It ignites it.”

Jena let out a breath, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as memory struck her. The day the hatchling emerged from the cracked emerald shell, barely formed yet fully aware. The first sound he made wasn’t a screech, or a chirp—

It was “Mama.”jena whispered

She taught after vel'seran's death the only hope in her life is the hatchling

The word had seared itself into her heart.

"A light " Jena whispered

Jena: “So if he’s carrying light, then the name… be luca”

She explains it's meant bringer of light

              

The pendant in green dragon mage hand vibrated faintly. A song—just beneath audible range—whispered through the stones in the pendent

Mage:  a right choice

Jena continues with a question

Jena: “You said something about ‘it carry two ’… What happens when a dragon soul collides with another?”

Mage: “Sometimes, it merges. Creates a twinsoul, a dual thread weaving through one vessel. If there’s three, a trisoul—rarer still. But in such cases, if all threads align…”

Jena: “…the soul gains a mana flow.”

Mage: (nods) “And that flow grants resilience. Longevity. Even near-immortality. Not because the body lasts, but because the soul persists beyond normal bounds. Reborn, remembered, refined.”

Jena: “And the name steers the flow.”

Mage: “Names aren’t just words. They’re keys. Codes buried deep in the soul itself.”