Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

Valerian flinched when the butterfly turned to him and spoke.

"D-do I have a choice?" He asked meekly.

The butterfly remained silent, hovering in the air.

The young dragon gulped nervously. Then, he turned towards Adam with a concerned look, and couldn't help but ask, "Before that, can you… can you help my big brother? Please? I... I have gold coins... I can pay..."

Towards the end, his words trailed off into a whisper.

A moment of silence ensued before the butterfly spoke again, "Worry not, little one. Your brother will be all right."

Valerian opened his mouth to argue, but the words never came. In the end, he simply let out a quiet sigh and nodded his head.

With heavy steps, he turned and walked back into the temple, settling beside the unconscious Adam. The mystical white butterfly fluttered in after him, her wings glowing faintly as she came to rest atop a broken pillar.

Valerian felt relief in the company of this mysterious butterfly. With the shadow of death now no longer looming before him, he could finally relax. He cast his curious gaze at the butterfly. He wanted to ask her so many questions. But in the end, he simply asked:

"My lady… will you tell me that story?"

The butterfly's wings stirred ever so slightly, scattering silver glitter into the air. Then, she seemingly smiled… a presence more felt than seen.

"Yes, little one," she said, her voice like the hush of wind gently drifting through the branches of Yggdrasil.

"It begins long before you or Adam were born…"

The world around them shifted, and as the butterfly began her tale, the story sprang to life. Valerian's eyes sparkled like the brightest stars, captivated by every word.

This was a story that sprouted in the past and bloomed into the future.

"Long ago, little one, this snow-laden island was the sacred home of a forgotten people, the four-armed kin of frost and storm, known as the Jarnsmrimir. They were said to be the descendants of the ancient frost giants themselves.

"They were children of winter, and in their hearts they carried laughter… for they worshiped the Laughing God.

"Upon the highest peak of their land stood a temple, carved of marble and prayers. And at the temple's heart lay a relic, a gift left behind by their god. But it was no trinket. No, it was wrapped in flames, not of fire, but of soul. To reach it, one's spirit had to endure its sacred burn.

"Then came the horror…

"From the far reaches of the spirit world, a formless fog slithered, unknowable and silent. It had no shape, no self. Yet, it yearned for one. And when it learned of the relic, it saw its only path to flesh.

"But the soul flame denied it.

"So, with monstrous hunger, the fog devoured the Jarnsmrimir, one by one, to feed its growing soul. The more it consumed, the greater its strength. Only a few survived, and among them was one who sewed shut his eyes, so the fog could never pierce his mind.

"He resisted. Again and again. But he never triumphed. And though the formless fog could not touch his soul, neither could he banish it from his homeland.

"Then came the destined one…

"He was not born of that land. Yet he offered himself, his very soul, as bait. The fog, greedy and blind, took the bait. It entered his spirit sea, and there, it was consumed instead. The predator became the prey.

"And when the silence returned, the destined one, guided by a young dragon, walked into the temple's heart. The soul flame embraced him, but it did not burn him. Whether by fate or ancient design, only he could withstand its trial.

"And so, he laid claim to the relic of the Laughing God.

"The Jarnsmrimir with the once-sealed eyes offered no words, only gratitude. His kin had been avenged. And when he opened his eyes again, he was free.

"The destined one and the young dragon departed soon after, their journey far from over. For beyond the snowy island, past the ethereal veil and into the material world, a storm was gathering… and their greatest trials were yet to come."

Valerian didn't just listen to the story, he felt it, he saw it. The butterfly's melodious words had brought the story to life, and the young dragon witnessed it all.

At first, he found it deeply fascinating. But soon, his eyes gradually widened in utter disbelief. He was stunned to realize that the story the butterfly had told wasn't just a tale… it was a prophecy!

Valerian's little frame trembled in shock. He opened his mouth, but could never speak the words forming in his mind. He had several questions he wanted to ask.

What was the true identity of the butterfly?

How did she know about everything?

Who was the Laughing God?

Why did she refer to Adam as the destined one?

As if sensing his thoughts, the butterfly spoke once again, "Little one, the answers you seek come at a great cost, one far too heavy for you to bear. You may only ask one question. Choose wisely."

Valerian's beautiful topaz eyes flashed with indecision. The questions about the Laughing God, the identity of the butterfly, and the future that she prophesied… these were ones that he was most curious to know.

But from what the butterfly had said, he was not ready to hear the answers. Or rather, he was too weak to know them.

Weak, he thought with a forlorn expression.

I'm still too weak…

I'm tired of being weak and powerless…

I want to become strong…

His topaz eyes flashed with resolve, and he immediately asked the one question that came from a place of deep yearning.

"How can I become stronger?"

The white butterfly remained silent for a moment, then smiled. Once again, it was not seen, only felt.

"You are impatient. Just like your brother," she said.

But Valerian remained steadfast. He put on a very serious expression, which turned out to look quite adorable. He intently stared at the butterfly, desperate to learn the answer.

The butterfly said at last:

"You must understand, little one… you are a dragon. And dragons are not bound by haste. With time, you shall grow, as all dragons do. But now, you are but newly hatched. How, then, can you expect power meant for those who have weathered the ages?"

"I refuse!" Valerian spoke with conviction. His eyes started to tear up, and his lips quivered. Then, he whispered, "I'm tired of being weak… I'm tired of being a burden… I want to be strong! So please… help me…"

The butterfly remained silent for a long time. Then, she said softly:

"I admire your resolve, little one… but even I cannot sway the currents that govern all things. What is woven into fate shall come to pass, as it must."

Hearing those words, Valerian's ears drooped. He slowly lowered his head as tears trickled down his furry cheeks. Then, he murmured:

"…I see."

But the butterfly's following words breathed new hope into the young dragon.

"That said," the butterfly whispered as it took flight and gently settled on Valerian's head. She flapped her wings, enveloping the young dragon's mind with a silvery veil.

"Your unwavering heart, your love for your brother… it has moved even one as old as I. And so, I shall grant you a gift, glimpses of what your kind may become, the echoes of power your bloodline holds."

And when the images unfolded within his mind, Valerian's breath caught in his throat. Ancient memories, that were not his own, bloomed within him.

Dragons weaving illusions vast as worlds, bending thought and spirit, walking between dreams and reality.

In that moment, he finally understood…

He understood his lineage.

He understood his potential.

He understood who he was.

Valerian was one of the rarest and most mysterious of his kind…

A Mind Dragon!