imperial celestial

Beneath the vast night sky, energy fluctuations pulsed across the horizon, casting multicolored glows upon a small, fortified clan settlement. Protective barriers of various hues shimmered like an aurora, surrounding the compound where figures clad in assassin-like garb moved with precision. At the heart of the settlement, a towering structure adorned with celestial star patterns stood tall, exuding an aura of ancient power.

The doors of the tower creaked open as an elderly man entered. The guards stationed nearby immediately straightened, bowing in respect.

"Patriarch."

"At ease," the old man replied with a gentle wave of his hand. His gaze shifted toward the fluctuating barrier in the distance. His eyes glowed faintly, reflecting the ethereal light.

"Is that boy still in the gravity field?"

"Yes, sir. He has been training since dawn. It appears he still struggles with those strange dreams."

The patriarch let out a low humph, a mixture of concern and amusement.

"That boy still believes the great one's calling is a mere nightmare. Perhaps I should tell him the truth..." He paused, then shook his head.

"No. This is the path the great one has chosen for him. Who am I to interfere?" he muttered softly before stepping into the barrier with ease, as though it welcomed his presence.

Within the field, a young man sat cross-legged, beads of sweat trailing down his pale face. His silver hair, tied back by a black headband bearing a paw insignia, cascaded to his shoulders. His white robes were reinforced with golden light armor, tailored for swift movements. Golden claw-like markings ran along the right side of his jaw—a mark of the celestial tiger's blessing.

Sensing the patriarch's approach, the youth opened his eyes, his voice strained yet respectful.

"Shin Ryu greets the patriarch."

The old man let out a hearty laugh.

"You, the pride of our Ancient Clan, blessed by the mighty Celestial Tiger who rules the stars... Named after his dearest companion, that wild dragon. Truly, what a loss for us all."

He sighed inwardly, lamenting the burden and destiny placed upon this youth. Shin Ryu lowered his head, clearly embarrassed.

"Patriarch, I've heard tales of Raikai's fierce nature. Are you certain we will find harmony like the legends of old?"

The patriarch smiled, pleased by the boy's growing understanding.

"So, you are beginning to comprehend your dreams. Good. As for your question—dragons respect only the strong. That is their pride. You possess a superior law of nature; it is your duty to surpass him. Earn his respect the way all warriors do—through battle. When next you meet, let the ancient clash of Dragon and Tiger roar once more. Prove to him why your era will rise together amidst the universe's great collapse."

He placed a reassuring hand on Shin Ryu's shoulder, releasing the crushing force of the gravity field. The boy sighed in relief and bowed deeply.

"Thank you, Patriarch."

"Enough with that, child. Let us leave this place and... perhaps play a few tricks on those captain guards," the old man grinned mischievously.

"Patriarch, I am no longer a child!" Shin Ryu protested, his voice cracking as he was dragged along by the elder—both vanishing into the night with laughter trailing behind them.

---

Later that night, beneath the stars, a lone shadow soared over the Ancient Clan, making its way to a mountain on the outskirts. Upon landing, the old patriarch stood, his white robes glistening under the celestial glow. His long, white hair, streaked with hints of gold, fell past his shoulders. He took a deep breath, admiring the sky one last time.

A low rumble disturbed the silence as another figure descended. Lightning crackled beneath his feet, causing the ground to tremble slightly. The man was muscular, his skin bearing faint scale patterns and covered in tribal tattoos that pulsed with latent power.

"Have you said your goodbyes to your son, Tors?" The lightning-clad elder—Shin Rai—spoke with concern etched across his weathered face.

Tors chuckled, the sound both weary and nostalgic.

"I see the sorrow in your eyes, old friend. But come, I brought my finest wine. Let us share one final drink before we fade from this era."

Shin Rai was momentarily taken aback, seeing his brother-in-arms, once the embodiment of discipline, now embracing the reckless laughter they often shared. Without hesitation, he produced his own flask.

"Then tonight, I drink to you, Tors. For grounding this dragon and tempering my bloodlust with your wisdom. No other tiger was worthy to call brother. When I draw my last breath, I will do so with pride, knowing I will wait for you in the Farshore—ready to resume our rivalry anew."

The two warriors poured their drinks, their cups brimming with both wine and memories.

Tors roared with laughter.

"At least you accept you'll die first, old dragon."

That night, atop the mountain, the echoes of their laughter rang through the valley—the sound of a bond forged through lifetimes of battle and brotherhood.