For a moment, it had been glorious, truly glorious. The sky had been filled with so many dragons that it seemed as if it could not possibly contain them all. Scales of every shade and colour had glittered in the sun, and the beating of their wings had been mightier than any storm. What could stand against such a force? What foe could possibly withstand the gathered strength of all the dragons in the world? Such had been the thoughts running through the minds of the dragons Sovereign Flame had called for, but he knew better. He had known better from the moment that wretched Abomination had been born.

The Seven Gods themselves had made Sovereign Flame. He knew them better than any other dragon. They had called his soul from the Flame Ever-Burning, and they had forged his body with runes of power and dreams of sky and sun. If Mother Tree was their most beloved most daughter, then he was their most favoured son. So he had known immediately when the Abomination had awakened. How could he not? He was everything the Seven Gods were not, a twisted, corrupted, broken reflection of the gods he loved with all his heart.

And he was mighty.

He was mighty beyond the measure of any foe he could imagine.

He had seen him from afar with his soul and with his magic, a titan of twisted, corrupted, weeping metal whose very presence screamed hate and fury at the world. He had no mouth, no eyes, no face. Yet his screams echoed through every plane of existence, and his gaze burned into every soul. He wore the same shape as the Seven Gods, but only in cruel mockery. His limbs were too long and thin, and the markings upon his body were not sacred runes but insults and blasphemies that were written in no language Sovereign Flame had ever learned, yet their meaning was carved into his mind. It was not god-fire that dwelt within the Abomination. Instead, it was a deep, terrible, and all-consuming coldness, emptiness, darkness, and hunger.

The gods were the fire and light that birthed the world. This Abomination was born of what dwelt in the long dark before the world had been made, and it waited still in the long dark beyond even death. Sovereign Flame knew not what cruel twist of fate had brought it here, but he knew that it had to be stopped.

And so he had called for his kin, for all the dragons of the world.

And they had answered.

And he had led them, all of them, in a glorious flight across the sky.

If the gods were to do battle against this foe, then it would not be alone. Besides, if the gods fell, where would he and the others go? No. If this Abomination succeeded in slaying the gods, then it would come for all of them, and any foe mighty enough to slay the gods would make short work of even the greatest of dragons.

Deep down inside, he had known that he was leading his fellows to their deaths. Even as they closed in on the site of the battle, he could sense the fires of dozens of lesser gods being snuff out like candles in the wind. Even the Seven Gods were barely able to hold their ground, their gigantic, metallic bodies already covered with wounds. Even the gathered might of all the dragons in the world could not hope to tip the scales against so terrible a foe. All they could do was buy mere moments of time. That would have to be enough.

When he gave the order to attack, his fellow dragons did not hesitate.

The sky split as fire, lightning, ice, lava, and so many other attacks thundered down, a barrage that could have split the world in two.

It did nothing.

The Abomination - the Broken God - did not even look their way. Instead, there was only a surge of will, of nothingness made manifest, terrible and proud. And then Sovereign Flame was falling, and the rest of the dragons were falling with him, their shattered scales and broken bodies tumbling down like rain.

Darkness greeted him.

And in that darkness, he saw a crown, the details indistinct but its beauty unmistakable.

Then he woke, and when he looked around it was to find only desolation. Of all the dragons who had come with him, only the very mightiest had survived. His breath came in deep, ragged gasps, and for the first time he could remember, he felt cold. It was a strange sensation, and he glanced at his body. His scales were shattered, and his bones were broken, but he was still alive. And if he was still alive, he could fight. Despite the pain, despite the icy cold clawing at his limbs, he forced himself into the air once more.

The others joined him, the great dragons who had been with him from the start, the dragons who had been made by the Seven Gods themselves. They left behind a graveyard so vast he could scarcely believe it was real. He wanted to grieve. To howl and roar and weep. But there was no time. The gods were still fighting. There was still hope.

"We go to our deaths," Sovereign Flame rumbled.

It was Paradox Fang who replied. He had been like a brother to Sovereign Flame all these years, and there was no one he trusted more. "We do." Like Sovereign Flame, he could barely fly, and the words came through a broken jaw. "But what else are we to do? If we fled, that thing would hunt us down. Better to fight, better to die if it improves the chances of the gods by even the smallest margin."

Sovereign Flame laughed despite how much it hurt. "Mother Tree always said my bravery would get me killed." He bared his teeth. "I can only hope it will be a death worthy of story and song."

Once more, they entered the fray. The Seven Gods were being of unimaginable power, and yet they were being thrown back. Again and again, they struck, mundane blows of world-shattering force mixed with attacks that cracked reality and altered the very nature of existence. But against the Abomination, they could do little.

It was terrifying.

But beneath the terror and grief, Sovereign Flame felt only growing rage. He had called his kin to battle, and so many of them had perished. Even now, his fellows, the oldest and greatest of his kind, were falling one by one. And still... and still they had not been able to leave even a single wound on their foe. That... that was more than his heart could bear, more than his soul could endure. Deep within him, he felt the cold clawing at his limbs begin to ebb away as the fire within him, the fire that he had been told would burn always and forever, began to blaze with a heat and fury he had never known.

"We are the last," Paradox Fang muttered. "You and I."

Sovereign Flame looked around. His friend was right. It had been only a few minutes, and already, the others had fallen. Titans who would have stood supreme on almost any other battlefield, and they had given their lives without leaving even a single wound on their foe. "I... am sorry." He gave a low rumble. "I have led us all to our deaths."

"You have," Paradox Fang replied. "But we all knew we were going to our deaths. You didn't have to tell us. We knew. And we chose to follow you anyway."

"Why?" Sovereign Flame asked.

"We dragons recognise no king, but you have always been the greatest of us, not merely because of your power but because of that great heart of yours, a heart so vast, so greedy that it would claim us all. We were all part of your hoard, my friend, and you prized us above all the other treasures in it. You would not have asked us to follow you unless there was no other way, for what true dragon would give up their hoard needlessly?" Paradox Fang's eyes narrowed. "The fire in you burns hotter than it ever has. If only we had more time... just a year more would have been enough, I think. you know of what I speak."

Sovereign Flame stiffened. He had achieved his Fourth Awakening long ago, but the Fifth Awakening had eluded him. The gods themselves had not told him what to do, only saying that it was a truth he would have to discover on his own. For the past decade or so, he had felt that he was making progress, that he was finally beginning to understand what he needed to do. Now, at last, he understood. He only wished the cost had been smaller and that he had possessed more time.

"I dare not try, not now," Sovereign Flame said.

The battle was still ongoing, the Broken God's attention momentarily stolen by a group of lesser gods who had arrived to distract it, so the Seven Gods could regroup. They died, all of them, but their deaths bought the Seven Gods the time they needed to find their feet again.

"You must," Paradox Claw replied. Tears of blood trickled down his cheeks. "I have seen more dragons die today than I could possibly have imagined. I have seen the dragons I have called brother and sister for thousands of years fall. And they have not left even a single wound upon their foe." His claws clenched. "I am not strong enough to avenge them. I am not strong enough even to leave a mark. But you... old friend.. you will be."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"If our foe senses what I am doing..."

"He will try to strike you down." Paradox Claw laughed. Magic gathered around his claw, and then he drove the limb deep into his own chest. Magic flared, and his soul ignited. His flesh began to burn, raw power bleeding through his broken scales. "I will die. But I will buy you the time I need."

"You are burning your own soul to boost your strength..." Sovereign Flame could not imagine the pain his friend must be feeling. To remain conscious was already a marvel, to stay airborne and to begin weaving defensive magics was beyond words. "Very well. I give you my word, old friend... brother, even if it costs me my life, I will wound this foe of ours. I will show all of our dead kin that their sacrifices were not in vain."

"Good." Paradox Fang smiled. "Then do what you must... and may our next lives be kinder than this one."

As the Seven Gods drove the Broken God back, at least momentarily, Sovereign Flame looked inward.

There was pressure building within him, an unstoppable tide that would not be denied. It was born of countless things: the years he had lived, the battles he had fought, the treasures he had collected. Those were the fuel, but the spark was the grief, the rage, and the sorrow he felt. The overwhelming sense of failure that filled him, the desperate need to avenge the fallen and honour their sacrifice, the duties held by the dragon hailed as the strongest - all of these and more...

His First Awakening had forged his body. The Second Awakening had forged his mind. The Third Awakening had forged his soul. And the Fourth Awakening had freed his soul.

What could the Fifth Awakening be?

For so long, he had pondered that idea. For so long, he had looked for a way to channel the awesome power he possessed, the awe-inspiring might he wielded. Without a direction, he could not hope to Awaken further, and he had travelled far and wide, consulting with anyone he thought might help him. Only now, at the very end of his life, did he understand.

The Fifth Awakening would reveal who he was.

It wasn't about how others saw him, or what others expected of him. It wasn't about what the gods hoped he could become or what destiny had laid out before him.

It was about who he was, at the very core of his being. It was about what he lived for and what he was willing to die for.

No wonder no dragon had achieved their Fifth Awakening.

The world itself had expectation of them, for their very natures had been determined by the gods. Sons of wind and fire. Engines of wrath and ruin. Lords of sky and battle. All of these were titles and expectations, and all of them had been bestowed by others. It made dragons mighty, for even the world recognised them, and so they embraced them. They embraced all they had been made to be, never thinking of what they themselves truly wished to be. They heard the stories and the legends, and they became beings worthy of story and song, of legend and myth. They put on those chains because those chains made them mighty, but the hardest chains to remove were always those that were put on willingly.

He needed to cast all of that side.

Who was he?

Now, here, at the end of his life, he knew who he was.

He was Sovereign Flame.

He was the oldest of all dragons and the greediest. No dragon had ever had a hoard so large as his, for no dragon dared to claim all other dragons as part of their hoard! And not just dragons! Was he not the most beloved son of the gods? Should not all other things be his? Yes! Everything beneath the skies, everything below the waves, everything upon the earth, all of it was part of his hoard!

And should not a dragon protect his hoard? Should not a dragon cherish his hoard?

That was his true nature, his true purpose. Not an engine of destruction and mayhem, but a guardian whose wings spanned the sky, whose fire lit the night, who scales would weather that blows meant for those beneath his aegis. Let Mother Tree spread her branches up to the sky and shelter all beneath them. He was the same, but instead of branches, he had wings.

And now... now so much of his hoard was gone. The ones he had sworn to protect, he had failed. He had led them into battle, knowing they would die, all in the desperate hope that they could tip the scales of a battle that was far beyond them. It had been necessary, for they would die regardless if the Broken God was victorious, but still... but still it was a failure. And that failure burned within him, it burned and burned and burned. He had failed because he was weak. If he wished to protect what he had left, if he wished to honour those he had failed, then he could not be weak any longer.

He had to become strong.

Strong enough to seize the world. Strong enough to protect it. Strong enough to honour the fallen. Strong enough to lay claim to it all... and keep it.

At the very core of his being, there was a fire. It had burned from the moment of his birth, and it would burn until the moment of his death.

The surging tide of power flooded into the fire... but it was not enough... it was just short... just shy of some threshold he could just barely glimpse...

"No..." Sovereign Flame growled. "Not like this... I refuse to fail like this..."

And then he saw it again, the crown shining in the dark. It wasn't meant for him. He knew that, somehow, but he knew also that if he failed here, it would never come to be. The one who was meant for it would die before they ever got a chance to earn it. And so he prayed, not to the gods locked in battle, not to the spirits of the fallen who had followed him, but to the world itself, to the earth, the sea, and the sky, to the Fire Ever-Burning and the stars shining in the heavens.

He prayed to them all... and they answered.

Power flooded through his veins, raw might and force, and the fire within him roared. His soul burned and burned and burned. And then the dragon fire at the very core of his being went out.

But only for a moment.

And when it reignited, it was dragon fire no longer.

In its place, burning with a strength and fury that Sovereign Flame had never known was something else.

God-Fire.

Paradox Fang fell.

He hit the ground and lay still, scarcely able to breathe. His soul had all but burnt out, and the great power he had gained was gone. But he laughed. He laughed because he saw the sun that had been born in the sky above him.

It was Sovereign Flame.

A crown flashed in and out of being above his head, a ghostly circlet of radiant flames. But those flames... impossible...

"God-Fire?" Paradox Fang laughed. "So that is it!" He laughed and laughed. "A soul freed from the shackles of time... where else could it go beyond that but the divine?"

His eyes began to drift shut. "This is as far as I go, old friend... the rest... is up to you."

Sovereign Flame glanced down at him. "I'll see you soon." The god-fire spilling out of him blazed. "Because even this won't be enough. Still.. it's funny."

"What?" Paradox Fang asked.

"You were the first one to call me the Uncrowned King. And yet... I'll die with a crown upon my head."

"Hah!" Paradox Fang laughed one last time and then fell still.

Above him, Sovereign Flame lifted one claw and then drove it deep into his own chest. As Paradox Claw had done, so would he. A Fifth Awakening still wasn't enough, especially not one so new and still so unstable. Instead, he would boost himself even further, burn the very god-fire he had just obtained as fuel.

"A few minutes," he rumbled. "That's all I'll have. But it will be enough. It will have to be." He paused. "I wish I could see the crown I've borrowed when it's finally given." He bared his teeth. "Which is why we have to win. At least that way, perhaps my daughter will get to see it."

With a roar, he streaked toward the battle, flying faster than he ever had in his life. Below him, the whole landscape burned, the mere shadow of his passage enough to set the land ablaze. Stone liquefied, and the clouds evaporated. Even the seas parted, their waters boiling away in an instant. Around him, reality sizzled, the immense heat within him searing away the borders between different planes of existence. Ahead, the Broken God looked away from the Seven Gods, and Sovereign Flame felt the weight of the Abomination's attention fall upon him... but this time, he held firm.

It was the crown, Sovereign Flame realised. The Broken God... was he... afraid of the crown?

Sovereign Flame laughed. "So you can feel fear?" He bared his teeth. "Good. Now... I want to know... can you bleed?"