The Fell Star’s Return

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Calamity. Ruin. Despair. This is what awaits at the end, what the few remaining people in this once peaceful and glorious land are experiencing. 

Constant crying, as well as screams of despair and agony, echo all across the ruined kingdom before being quickly and mercilessly snuffed out, never to be heard in this world again. 

Monuments to the heroes and saviors of old are torn from their pedestals as the people’s pleas for their help go unanswered. 

Ultimately, the denizens of this land can only watch in horror as the skies part to bring down their wrath, while a beastly and savage army rides in to fell those that yet remain. The chaos consumes all in its relentless pursuit as formerly pristine streets flow with rivers of blood and mountains of bodies burn amidst the rubble.

While this tragedy is unfolding, the ground is constantly quaking as a battle that can tear open the skies and rend the very earth is taking place. 

In the ruins of a once magnificent and vast city, two armies are waging open war. One very large enemy host made up of beasts, machines, and powerful warriors numbering in the hundreds of thousands, while the remains of the ruined kingdom’s defenders have a much smaller group of people that is dwarfed by their foes one hundred to one. 

Despite the overwhelming numbers, it’s clear that the warriors that make up the kingdom’s forces are entirely elites as they valiantly fight back against the crippling odds.

Sword in one hand and powerful magic blazing in the other, a certain figure dances through the rival army reaping their lives as if he is death himself in physical form. Not even the massive war machines, built to withstand and combat the hero relics of old, are able to pin him down for very long on their own. 

Several other prominent figures fight alongside him, blasting off magic and cutting down their foes in a desperate bid to fight off the invaders. 

Wielding strange weapons suffused with a powerful red glow, the valiant men and women push forward against their foes even despite the odds. 

The figure leading them is none other than the ruler of this kingdom as well as the subject of the people’s religion. 

The enemy, sensing that he’s even more troublesome than they had anticipated, begin to direct some of their strongest constructs towards him.

Seeing the hulking automatons heading right for him, the leader pushes off on his own, knowing that his allies would be hard-pressed to fight them as he can. Welcoming them with a fierce attack, the earth trembles under the clash of the two opposing forces. 

Enhancing his body with magic, the king holds back the towering foes from the rest of his army the best he can but no matter how many he cuts down, two more always seem to arrive and take their place. Slowly being surrounded by the many elite machines, the man begins to push himself even harder, but is already greatly fatigued from the hours of high-level combat as well as the surprise attack the enemies initiated. 

The titan-like machines that begin to gather around him are slow but have an insanely sturdy defense and a powerful offense that makes them difficult for him to deal with while still preserving his energy to hold out for the rest of the war.

Deciding to use some of his sword arts and higher-level magic in order to escape the entrapment he begins to slice and blast apart the armor on the titans. 

Dodging a heavy blow that leaves a crater in the earth by jumping high into the air, he counters with his own strike to one of the machine’s heads. Infusing his sword with magic it begins to glow red as it elongates, splitting into a chain-like structure that slices open the exposed and damaged head he had been targeting. 

Coming out of the sword swing he sees four other weapons coming at him while still in the air. Using flexibility and reaction speed that doesn’t seem possible he manages to maneuver out of the way of three attacks but sees that he will be unable to avoid the last unscathed. Quickly placing his sword directly in the way of the attack it proceeds to barrel into him with unimaginable power and ferocity.

Despite managing to block the strike, he gets sent flying tens of meters before impacting the ground roughly and coughing up blood. 

Dazed and disoriented, he sees several titans rushing at him, but due to his state, he struggles to stand and confront them. 

Just as death seems ready to embrace him, the shouts of his allies reach his ears as a few of the approaching machines are blasted back. 

Through red-tinted vision he can make out several of his generals engaging the titans, managing to momentarily halt their advance. 

“My King, you need to get up! You can’t fall here!” 

The voice of his wife shocks him out of his stupor as he sees her join the fray. Her long hair dances in the wind as she darts between attacks but that doesn’t prevent her from sending a low-level healing spell his way. 

Feeling the warmth pulsing through his body as his natural regeneration goes into overdrive, he thanks her in his heart. 

Quickly he thinks on the countless lives that have already been lost as well as those that remain depending on him to prevail. The desire to protect the smiling faces of his loved ones causes the pain and disorientation to fade to the back of his mind. 

Renewing his resolve, he similarly casts another healing spell on himself to keep fighting, and once again throws himself at the enemy. 

Seeing their King rejoin the fight, the generals send out a few final blows before returning to their positions. The Queen similarly backs away, but not before flashing him a small smile that seems to bloom even amidst the ruinous battlefield. 

Blood pumping in his veins, the monarch uses his newfound determination and smites the weakened automatons in one fell swoop with a large swing of his chain-like blade. 

Let it be known that even one of these ancient constructs, a Titanus, is more than capable of fighting and defeating a small army on their own and yet the King is fighting multiple at once while still ultimately gaining ground. Surely this is a testament to his immense power and prowess in the field of battle. 

Slicing through yet another foe, the man suddenly senses great danger and looks up, only to see several purple spears of light enter his vision just before everything goes white. A massive explosion with him at the center rocks the battlefield, decimating everything in its path.

Some of the man’s allies are able to escape the blast due to their distance as well as the blessings their ruler had bestowed upon them, but countless enemy forces were not so lucky. 

Standing behind layers of magical barriers, sudden fear and disbelief is painted on the faces of those fighting alongside the monarch while many on the opposing side begin to laugh and cheer at the death of their oldest and greatest adversary. 

Just as the battle appears to be ultimately lost, a sudden and huge shockwave blows back the surroundings as a mighty roar shakes the heavens themselves, completely silencing the chaos. The dust quickly settles, revealing a large and imposing visage.

Shimmering white scales letting off a holy and divine radiance, large and intricate horns that seem to glow with every color imaginable forming the shape of an elaborate and mystical crown, as well as gleaming and bewitching emerald eyes that seemingly held all the mysteries of the universe within. 

Those eyes, however, are currently glowing with an unbridled hatred and fury. 

All those gathered can only watch, mesmerized, as the immaculate dragon stands upon his hind legs and unfurls his majestic and imposing wings as a myriad of colors begin to form into a compressed ball within the mighty being’s mouth. 

It is then let loose in a laser-like stream that leaves a deep scar in the land as it devastates a large number of the opposing army in one go. 

As if a spell had been broken, the battlefield descends into chaos once more. 

The man’s allies, relieved at their leader’s safety and emboldened by his recently awakened form begin to fight back in earnest. A select few even follow his example by transforming into their divine forms. Some take the shape of a dragon similar to the man, although less humanoid in appearance, while others look very different.

“So, they have decided to show themselves for what they truly are, mere beasts. As for the Fell Star, a king of beasts is still no better than a mutt needing to be put down. Soon we will eradicate all remembrance of these demons and take their place as the rightful rulers, as gods of our own making!”, says a man hidden deep within the middle of the enemy host. 

Watching as the monarch and his soldiers begin to wreak havoc upon his army, the man clad in shadow decides to finish what his ancestors started millennia ago, “Send in the Asuras, it is time to eradicate these filthy Nabateans once and for all!”

The king, along with his allies, push forward against the hostiles in a near unstoppable show of force now that they are using their full might. 

Although he didn’t want to show his hand this early, the man was forced to transform into his draconic form lest he take the previous attack with his weaker body and perish. 

Soaring above the battlefield while shooting down beams to destroy his enemy, he is set upon by a flock of large demonic beasts, each the size of a fully grown elephant, as he proceeds to engage in an aerial battle with them. 

Flapping his wings, he seemingly disappears from his spot before reappearing in the middle of the monstrous horde while those that he passed fall to the ground gushing blood. 

Following this, he imbues magic into his tail as he swings it in an arc towards the remaining forces. The attack projects out of his body, traveling at high speeds while severing anything it comes into contact with. 

Then, pure magic once again begins to condense in the king’s mouth, but instead of a highly focused beam, he instead lets loose a widespread barrage of sizeable magic bullets. Countless explosions akin to fireworks appear in the sky as the last of the horde is blasted out of the air, having been fully eradicated in mere moments.

Just as the monarch prepares to move forward, he spots several javelins of light heading for him once more, however this time his eyes only narrow in contempt. 

The ruler is prepared as he quickly shoots a barrage of magic bullets to intercept them before they get too close, causing them to detonate mid-air. 

A bit dazed by the large explosions happening right above him he fails to notice three enormous shadows speeding directly at him from below. Appearing in front of him in the blink of an eye, they manage to connect a few charged up and well-timed attacks directly onto the glistening scales of the immaculate dragon. 

Taking the full brunt of the unforeseen attacks, the king is sent barreling towards the surface below, crashing heavily into the ground and creating a substantial crater that attests to the raw power behind those hits. 

Rising from the earth, he glances at the small cracks on his scales where he was hit as he shakes off the debris and looks around to spot this new enemy that was able to catch him unaware. What he sees makes his blood run cold as a deep sense of fear, disbelief, and dread begins to rise up in his chest.

Before him are three very large figures, almost the same size as him, with a very dangerous and savage air about them. Despite their differences in shape, they all share the same dark black coloration with a sinister black and purple aura swirling around them, as well as gleaming red eyes full of blood lust. 

These features are not what the man fears however, that would be because, although not obvious, he can tell that these figures are all full-blooded draconic beings descended from the goddess herself. The King can even feel a slight connection to them calling out to him, but it is twisted and malformed, as if it had been tampered with and corrupted. 

But this shouldn’t be possible. All the children save a select few died on that horrible day millennia ago so how can there be three more appearing before him now, and siding with the enemy no less?Not only that, but they seem to have been experimented on and deformed in some way, their bodies and mind broken and restructured countless times until loyal and mindless slaves were created.

Feeling the state of their minds through the link they have is enough to send shivers down his spine. Just thinking about the constant torture they must have been through during the countless centuries since they were lost, it’s almost too much for him to bear.

As all these thoughts are racing through the king’s head, the corrupted dragons lunge at him with full intent to kill. Snapping out of his thoughts and attempting to swallow his fear and sadness, the man prepares to shield himself from the unified attacks of his lost brethren. 

The three attacks ram into him with an unstoppable force and vigor that once again launches the monarch away despite having put up his defense. 

Managing to fly into the air to avoid a land battle that would devastate both armies, he turns towards his new foes and shoots a laser similar to the one he first used, although slightly weaker due to his rapidly decreasing energy and magic reserves. 

Noticing the deep cost of the attack, a large sense of urgency rises in him. He had yet to get used to this new form and because of that he could feel the constant drain on his magic and stamina to maintain it. 

Seeing the beam barreling towards them, the three opposing dragons react to his attack by gathering energy themselves and firing their own beams that merge together and clash with his head-on. What results is an explosion that shakes the battlefield below and releases a shockwave that sends countless people flying.

Afterward, a frightening battle ensues as the king and his enemies enter a fierce and deadly clash. Claws meet fangs as a ferocious brawl is broken out by the four large dragons. His deadly tail whipping out and dangerously sharp teeth biting at another, the king is fighting for his very life. 

Many of those on the ground can only watch on as a battle between titans is fought above their very heads. 

Seemingly blinking around the battlefield due to their insane speed, the foes are locked in a fast-paced dance of death where one slip up means the end. 

Occasional blasts of energy clash in the sky as they use breath attacks in conjunction with their deadly body parts. Some attacks don’t get intercepted and hit their intended targets, or even descend to the ground causing widespread death and destruction to the armies as well as the last remaining bits of the kingdom below. 

Every so often one of the corrupted dragons will be expelled from the fierce fight, having taken a considerable attack from the king, but they only dive right back into the fray as if they don’t even feel pain or fatigue.

Those on the ground are also experiencing a tough battle as well. With the appearance of the monstrous fiends fighting the monarch came dozens upon dozens of strangely powerful enhanced demonic beasts that are beginning to overrun the king’s forces. 

***

Holding back a large demonic wolf, Yuri can feel the beast’s hot breath on his face before he seemingly disappears and runs his sword through the creature’s neck. Ripping out his blade while panting, he can’t help but wince from the deep gash on his chest. 

Cursing under his breath he surveys the surroundings. He takes note of the generals still standing, but even they arebeginning to break under all this pressure. 

Taking a deep breath, power suddenly surges through his body from the strange relic on his hand before he bursts forward with unmatched speed. 

Blinking around the battlefield he does his best to relieve the pressure on his fellow allies. Despite his speed, he’s surprised to find that many of these larger demonic beasts can somehow react to his movements, but their desperate attacks are all nullified by the protections of his relic. 

Shoving his sword through the gleaming red eye of a bear type monster, he suddenly senses great danger as he tries to jump back. 

The barriers on his gauntlet activate, but even they are hard pressed to block the attack as the purple haired man gets sent flying through the air. 

Groaning in pain, the new hole on the side of his chest began to gush out blood.

“Yuri!” With blurred eyes he can see someone with green hair rush over to him, beginning to inject his body with warm yet gentle waves of healing magic. 

Opening his mouth, he tries to warn about the coming danger, but rather than words, only blood comes out of his mouth. 

“Please, don’t try to speak. Everything will be all right in a moment!” 

After a few seconds his hazy vision begins to clear as he makes out the gentle smiling face of the seemingly young girl above him. 

“You’ll be better so-” She never gets the chance to finish her words as before Yuri’s horrified eyes a deep black arrow penetrates her skull, exploding out the other side amidst a shower of gore. 

Reaching out a hand towards the girl that always seemed like a beacon of light in everyone’s life, the purple haired man never reaches her as a similar arrow pierces his chest once more, right where his heart is. 

Watching his two accursed enemies drop to the ground dead, a sickly-looking man lowershis pitch black bow, the sinister red light slowly fading from the weapon. 

Next to him stands nine other figures, all holding midnight-colored armaments similar to the man with the bow as they gaze out at the remainder of the enemy army with savage smiles, already enjoying the hunt.

***

Continuing the fierce exchange that has gone on for roughly half an hour now, powerful attacks are used both by the king and his three foes that creates a blinding flash of light and sends them all barreling away in different directions, finally breaking apart the intense ball of death and destruction that was their brawl. 

After the long exchange, the king’s body is aching in pain, having taken substantial damage. Heavy and labored breathing is accompanied by a wounded body as deep gashes and cuts liter his form. His previously white and pristine scales are now cracked and broken as well as dyed black and green due to the blood spilled from both himself and his enemies. The once gleaming horns now seem to have lost much of their radiance and even show a few cracks here and there. 

The corrupted dragons look worse, however, missing limbs or large chunks of their flesh. It is a miracle that they continue to fight and surprisingly live, but they act as if they feel nothing, not even seeming to be fatigued.

The king, not willing to give any repose, prepares to dive back into battle and lay his brethren to rest at last. Just as he begins to move forward, a loud and pained scream enters his ears as he takes his focus off his enemy and looks down at the battlefield that he was fighting over for all this time. 

The world seems to slow to a crawl as his eyes widen to take in the scene that lay below him. 

Countless craters and gashes in the land, mountains of bodies, whether human or otherwise, as well as a sea of red, black, and green due to the immeasurable blood spilled. There is almost nothing remaining of the sprawling and beautiful city he called home, there is nothing except a war-torn wasteland. 

More than that though, something that causes him even further pain lays just below him. 

There on the ground is his wife, impaled.

Fear, along with fatigue, cloud his thoughts as he immediately goes into action. 

Moving faster than ever before, the king flies desperately towards the body of his wife, hoping to save her before she is lost. Reaching out a claw in order to recover her body and heal her, he is just about to reach her but instead gets violently blasted away. 

The monarch launches himself back towards his wife without a moment to spare, however, the three corrupted dragons stand in his path, blocking the way towards his lover.

“Move!”, he angrily and desperately screams at them while attempting to get past, only to once again be prevented from reaching her. 

Locking eyes with his wife he can only watch, powerless, as the large spear is roughly pulled from her body and she falls to the ground. As her eyes begin to lose their shine, she only gives him a loving and gentle smile before she breathes her last, the life leaving her body. 

Unable to bear the thought of a future without his beloved, the king gathers his remaining energy and attempts to use his oldest and most powerful ability. It’s one that he has not dared to attempt ever since that fateful day all those years ago, turning back the hands of time. 

Everything seems to pause as the flow of time is laid out before him in an ever-branching tree of possibilities. 

Horns and eyes gleaming with a cosmic radiance, he begins to weave the flow into a power that would rewind to the past but finds himself struggling as the ancient magic encounters a strange resistance. 

Not giving up, he throws every remaining ounce of his magic into the endeavor and grins as the world around him begins to shift. Suddenly, though, the very space surrounding him starts to crack, and he can only watch as it suddenly shatters. 

Thrust back into the present, the king collapses while coughing up blood and slowly reverts back into his human form. The failed cost of manipulating the flow of time is too much for his body to bear, having gone beyond his limits long ago he now finds even the simple act of moving brings unbearable pain shooting through his crippled form.

Putting aside all of those thoughts, he recognizes this as the end and simply desires to hold his loved one yet again. 

The twisted dragons finally let him pass as he slowly crawls over to the body of his wife with his remaining energy and grabs her into an embrace. 

Having already seen and felt that his forces are all but destroyed, the king knows that the end is nigh. His people are dead, his kingdom destroyed, his army routed in battle, his loved ones killed, and he has no power left in his body or soul to avenge any of them. 

As footsteps approach the fallen ruler, he looks up to see an imposing figure. He’s a giant of a man, tall and well-muscled, he has snow-white skin and hair with piercing black and red eyes while shadows seem to cling to him as if he was a part of them. 

He’s wearing majestic black and gold armor with the emblem of an eye surrounded by some kind of intricate circle and branching pattern, a crown adorns his head with the same central eye figure, and at his side is a dark and gleaming spear that crackles with power, fresh with blood. 

Although he can’texplain it, the mere sight of the man is enough for the King to feel a deep sense of disgust, unease, and anger. Feelings that seem to come from the very depth of his being. 

Strangely though, there’s also a hint of something strange, familiarity. 

Stopping a bit away from the defeated king before taking in the sight of him on the ground, the man clad in shadows proceeds to let out a sinister laugh.

“So, this is all that the Fell Star amounts to when faced with the might of Agarthan technology, how pathetic. It pains me to believe that you once brought our mighty civilization to its knees.” 

The man’s cold eyes study him for a moment before looking to the bloody corpse of his wife cradled in his arms. 

A savage grin finds itself on the snow-skinned man’s lips as he plays with his spear and points at her body as well as all the others strewn across the battlefield, “This, false-goddess, is your just deserts for everything you have taken from us. For what you have taken from me!” He snarls out the last sentence before returning to silence once more. 

Savoring the image of the king’s defeated form he turns his head to look at the surviving warriors that have begun to gather around him now that the battle is over. 

“My fellow Agarthans! On this day let be known that I, Damasias the Mighty, King of New Agartha and Destroyer of the Fell Star, have brought vengeance and honor to our people!” Those that are beginning to gather around let out a mighty cheer, beginning to chant his name. He revels in it for a moment, before raising his arm to entreat silence.

“Long ago, that beast that fashioned herself a goddess fell from the stars and attempted to wrest these lands from us, and when we spoke out against her, she attempted to destroy us all to the last man, woman, and child. US, the true owners, and denizens of this land, were cast aside and butchered like savages, all because some overgrown animal thought herself our better!” Shouts of anger ring about, and Damsias is no different as his voice contains unconcealable hatred.

“For millennia we toiled underground, struggling to survive, while the false goddess and her loyal sheep claimed these lands and lived a life of peace and plenty. But let me tell you, brethren, that they were just fattening themselves up for us like pigs before a slaughter, because today, today we have returned all she did to us and more. Here what remains of the false goddess lays at my feet struggling to draw breath while her precious kingdom lay in ruin around her. The blind sheep that lived by her word and followed her rule have been silenced, never to spread their hypocrisy again! We, the Agarthans, have won! No more will we live underground like animals! No more will we live in fear of an invader from the stars! No more will we suffer at the hands of the Fell Star and her faithful! Today, the sun rises on a new dawn and WE are the rulers of this land! WE are the masters of our fate! WE are our own gods! WE ARE AGARTHA!” 

So loud are the cheers and cries let out by the Agarthan armies, they seem to be heard all across the continent of Fódlan and even throughout the neighboring lands as well. As they bathe in a baptism of fire and blood, the end of the former reign is at hand.

Laying on the ground as the enemy army cheered and celebrated with their new leader, the previous King of Fódlan sits with his dead wife in his arms, staring out at the horizon. He watches as the sun begins to peek over the mountains in the distance and the first rays of morning come shining down upon him, illuminating his glowing green hair and eyes. 

A small smile plays on his lips as he reminisces about words he heard in the past from a certain white-haired princess, “…I fear the edge of dawn knowing time betrays…” A tiny chuckle escapes his lips as tears begin to roll down his cheeks. 

Closing his eyes, he replays the many events of his life that led up to this moment. So many lost over the years, could things have been different? ‘If only I was stronger back then… I would make it all right…’, this thought echoes in his mind as he watches the sun slowly rise. 

And so, just as dawn began to edge over the horizon, Byleth Eisner, God-King of Fódlan, the Goddess Reborn, perished.

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