The Dragon who Feared Starlight

Once upon a time, two sibling gods became caretakers of the people, but disagreed on how to do it. Mila, the sister, suffused the land with abundance to ease their hardships and lead them to be kind. Duma, the brother, razed the land with fire to spur growth and resilience. The people thrived, but over time Mila became too protective, and Duma too harsh. They quarreled until the fighting bled into the realm of men, which brought great suffering. But in the end, the people rejected the control of their gods. In a final war between two kingdoms, Mila sacrificed her life to save a priestess, while Duma was felled by a future king. They were laid to rest on a hill side by side. Two trees were planted on their graves, whose trunks were entwined together as they grew into what would become known as the Mila Tree. It stands as a symbol of nature’s cycle, and of reconciliation.

“From what I heard” Tiki said to Nah, “Duma pleaded with his last breath that mankind learn from his mistakes and never repeat them. But as you can see in our time, some lessons must be relearned.”

“I don’t understand the lesson here” Nah leaned back and stared at the tree branches above for answers. “What exactly did Mila and Duma do wrong?”

Tiki thought for a moment before speaking. “They held power for too long. There comes a time when you must let go of the ones you love. As it is with parents and children, so it was with the Divine Dragons and their worshippers.”

“It was simply their time to go.”

“Exactly.”

Nah rested her head on a nearby root of the massive Mila Tree, its trunk spanning the horizon, its canopy dampening the sun overhead into a cool green shade. She tried to imagine what it would be like to be a god, overseeing the affairs of a whole people, wielding the power to foster them or ruin them. The myriad possibilities outnumbered the big leaves hanging overhead, and Nah closed her eyes. Her draconic bloodline must come with a terrible price. Will it consume her as it did Duma? Will she become complacent like Mila?

They leaned on each other warmly.

“I couldn’t let my friends go” Nah admitted. “I can’t let them die of age. My heart won’t allow it, and I’m scared of losing them.”

“Death will take your friends no matter what your heart says. But it can’t take away the love you share between them. And some day you might welcome death like a friend, like our ancestors did.”

“Immortality” Nah reckoned. “Well, I’m only half-manakete, so about how long do I have?”

“Hard to say” Tiki sighed. “Your situation is quite tricky. Never in my life have I encountered a half-blood…”

“Morgan.”

The name painted Tiki’s cheeks with red. “Oh, little Morgan.”

“She's your daughter from another timeline. That’s two half-bloods you’ve met so far.”

“You needn’t remind me. I meant in all my years before, I’ve never seen another manakete fall in love with a human, let alone sire children with them. Nowi and I are the only ones in history. Only time and fate will tell how long you’ll live.”

Nah calculated with a furrowed brow. “What does it even matter, anyways? Am I worrying too much?” She gripped Tiki’s pink collar, looking for answers. “Tell me, Tiki. Am I just going insane like the other dragons you’ve told me about? Medeus, Duma, Grima, will I end up like them?”

“Nah, you’re fine” Tiki sighed. “Just stay in the present, and immortality will pass you by pleasantly.”

“Hmph. If I’m fine, then that’s the end of it for now. We’re fine for now.” Nah’s pointed ears flicked in annoyance. “Would you tell me another story? I want to hear how you came to Valm in the first place. How did you reach the Mila tree?”

“Absolutely, let me just…” A soft yawn accompanied the rustling of leaves overhead. “…gather my thoughts for a minute…maybe give me a few years…”

“Tiki no!”

A month later, Tiki gathered a small audience to listen to her tale. Anna, the merchant with a family history long enough to rival Tiki’s, arrived with an entourage of her many sisters. Chrom, a king with the soul of a general, sailed the seas for seven days to hear her. Lucina, Nah’s friend and Chrom’s daughter, appeared from a self-imposed exile to learn more about the manakete who helped her save the world from ruin. Say’ri, Tiki’s bodyguard turned intimate friend, helped organize a party to celebrate the occasion. Robin, Tiki’s husband, made apple fritters and prepared to take notes. And of course, all the divine dragons attended. Nowi brought her husband Gregor, Morgan made apple fritters with her father, and Nah sat front and center in the audience.

The morning sun bathed the Mila Tree’s ceiling with bright blue. Everyone (except Gregor and Nowi, who continued to eat apple fritters throughout the morning) waited with overwhelming silence as they sat waiting in audience to a piece of the world’s timeless history. Nah wondered if Tiki was nervous, as her shut-eye countenance shrouded the sight of her heart like a fog.

Tiki yawned and rubbed her eyes. “This is the story I’ve neglected to tell you all for ages, the story of why I crossed the sea from Altea to the Mila Tree. Allow me to start at the very beginning, when I was a fledgling dragon put to sleep in a frozen temple. It was a time of tyrannical darkness, when the world was at war while ancient evils plotted to usurp the age of humankind. Gotoh, an older divine dragon and my old master, hid me away to stave off the dark’s corrupting influence. I wanted to help, to protect the world I’ve grown so fond of. And thanks to the Hero-King Marth, I got my chance. With Gotoh’s blessing, he woke me and asked to join his fight against the dark emperor Hardin. Of course, I jumped into his arms and said yes.”

Lucina clutched her chest when she heard the name Marth. Nah became skeptical of Tiki’s telling, as she heard of the episode in the ice temple before. Gotoh, she was told then, sealed Tiki away not as much to keep her safe from the world, but the opposite. It is the fate of some dragons to die in the mind before they die of age, Tiki always warned her. If Tiki went mad like Duma and Medeus did before, who knows what kind of destruction she could have wrought.

“At the time,” Tiki continued, “Marth had two jewels from the Fire Emblem in tow, the Lightsphere and the Starsphere. They looked about the same as they do now, shining jewels of blessed power that combine to make a shield that can repel any dragon’s attack. I asked Marth if I could play with them. Of course, Marth was wiser than to let a child play with a world-saving artifact. But his future wife Caeda allowed me to look at it under her close watch. And that’s when I found something within myself that fascinates and haunts me to this day.”

“If you look closely into the blue hues of the Starsphere Azure, you’ll find a chart of the stars as can be seen looking up at a cloudless night, each twinkling point of light exactly in its place. And inside that vast expanse of stars, I found a vision reflected to me, more like a dream forced into the mind. I saw the faces of all my friends etched into the stars, connected by faint lines which gave them form, constellations. There was Marth, Caeda, everyone I knew, living and dead. The stars, I was taught by my old friend Bantu, welcome the spirits of those who die. And all at once I first realized my fear of starlight.”

“The night after I reunited with my precious Mar-mar…I mean Marth…we camped in a snowy forest clearing close to the temple. The trees over our heads suddenly became stars, like I saw in the Starsphere, and I cried. I remembered the souls of those who left me before and dreaded the day Marth would leave me too. And after many joyous years after defeating Medeus, it happened suddenly.”

“When we laid Marth to rest, I cursed the Starsphere and the world, though I told no one. Every night since Marth’s death I hid myself away from the stars, hiding behind covers, closing my eyes to them whenever I could. It made my heart bleed with sorrow, as I could see Marth’s face trapped above me, never to be seen again. For ages on, I lived under a curse, my childish tenancies buried under melancholy.”

Nah felt Tiki’s gaze centered on her. “This is the curse of dragonkind, to outlive a world full of frail humans, to watch them sprout from the earth like dandelions, then disappear into the wind.”

“Centuries passed. Altea and its people rose and fell like the tides. Yet I kept to myself, only waking every so often in times of great need. And then one day, I awoke from an especially long sleep to find that Altea itself had been reformed into Ylisse. A hero blessed with Naga’s pact approached me asking for my aid. He sought to kill a monster called Grima. Not in the mood to fight another evil dragon, I challenged him to a duel to test his strength. He held the dragon-slaying Falchion in hand but tossed it aside and refused to fight. Then we became friends.”

“We assembled the Fire Emblem, marched to the Dragon’s Table and defeated Grima handily, as it’s been told before. The First Exalt and I spent many of summers together after the war. We were so close that I babysat his daughter. But then The First Exalt became much more involved with the politics of his kingdom. The Fire Emblem was too much power for one nation to hold, he said. So he scattered four of the Fire Emblem’s jewels across four kingdoms. I objected, as it would be nearly impossible to reunite the jewels should they be needed again. We quarreled fiercely over this, and it all ended when he gave me one jewel to keep for myself, Azure, the Starsphere, my object of scorn. I nearly bit his head off at the gesture. He pleaded that I take it to the Mila Tree for safekeeping. I was very hot-headed and spiteful back then. I told him I would go there and burn the tree down for his trouble. But we left on bittersweet terms. He watched me take the first ship to Valm, and I waved back across the harbor. The Starsphere rested in a small strongbox on my hip, locked with a key, out of sight and out of mind.”

“Days later, a terrible storm capsized our vessel. The captain went down with the ship, but everyone else made it to the lifeboats. It was dark when the storm subsided, and the clouds obscured the night sky. The sailors were lost without the stars to guide them. I basked in the calm of a starless night, free from the trauma of dead friends haunting me from above. But if we couldn’t get the lifeboat pointed in the right direction, we were doomed.”

“It was a hard choice, whether or not to allow the sailors to hold the Starsphere and use the stars to chart our way home. I was perfectly content with dying over enduring the sight of the stars over that dark and foreboding ocean. Fortunately, the other sailors snapped me out of it and had me open the box. But when I held it in my hands the visions of constellations and death invaded my head again. I saw Marth, felt him hold my hand as I held the sphere. I wouldn’t let go of him, even while grief destroyed me.”

“I decided to compromise and take a middle path. Fighting the urge to clutch it close to my chest, I lifted the stone up to the sailors and we held it together. They saw their loved ones etched into the stars like I did. But unlike me, they rejoiced at the sight. It gave them hope and steeled their resolve. With a complete star chart to guide us, the sailors rowed our lifeboat to Valm’s shores before the sunrise. From there, I travelled on foot to the Mila Tree, where the people of Chon’sin welcomed me with such love that I was able to put the fear of starlight behind me for a while. The Starsphere Azure, and the visions of dead friends contained within, tormented me no longer.”

“Later on, the First Exile died in battle while I was gone. The Starsphere still imparted pangs of sadness as I guarded it. The Fire Emblem remained separated. But I had time to reconcile these burdens and make a new life with you all. And I must give thanks to everyone present for making it all right, even if it’s only for a thousand years or so.”

In the festivities that followed, Anna related that the boat which took Tiki across the sea was captained by one of her distant ancestors, a successful merchant named Anna. Lucina and Chrom talked at length about Marth and the First Exalt, their own blood relations. Say’ri was so moved that she renewed her vow to protect Tiki from harm (which she does almost every month out of affection). Robin and Morgan stuffed several apple fritters into Tiki’s face, so she wouldn’t fall asleep on the spot. Nah played with Nowi, running circles around the Mila Tree, hanging from its branches, and finally basking in the sunlight atop the canopy.

An eternity spent like this, Nah concluded, would drive her mad with joy.