The Power of Creation
Copyright© 2026 by Vasantrutu
Chapter 13: Dragon Lore
When I woke up this time, I felt refreshed—truly refreshed—as if every ache, every strain, had been washed away. My body felt light, brimming with energy. I yawned and stretched instinctively.
Then I opened my eyes.
And froze.
I was somewhere unfamiliar.
At first, my mind struggled to grasp what I was seeing. Above me was an endless sky—clear, vast, impossibly blue. No clouds. No sun I could pinpoint. Just open expanse. That alone was strange, but what unsettled me was everything else.
There were no trees.
No land.
No horizon.
No sound.
I turned my head left. Nothing.
Right. Nothing.
Below—only emptiness.
Alarm shot through me and I sat up sharply.
That was when the real shock hit.
Three figures were seated calmly in front of me—Varun, my sister, and a woman I immediately recognized as a dragon in human form. They were not standing. They were not floating freely.
They were sitting.
Wooden chairs. A wooden table between them.
All of it suspended in midair.
My throat went dry.
“How...?” was the only word that escaped my lips.
The moment she heard my voice, the dragon woman stood so abruptly that the air itself rippled. In the next heartbeat, she was in front of me, arms wrapped tightly around my body, pulling me into an embrace so fierce it stole the breath from my lungs.
It wasn’t hostile.
It was desperate. Warm. Familiar in a way that made my chest ache.
She held me as if I were something she had lost and finally found again.
After a few long moments, my sister cleared her throat pointedly.
The dragon woman laughed softly and released me, though she didn’t step far away. Instead, she took my hand firmly, as if afraid I might vanish if she let go.
She guided me toward the table and gently—but decisively—pushed me into one of the chairs.
Only then did I realize something unsettling.
The chair adjusted itself midair, sliding perfectly into place as though gravity itself had been negotiated rather than obeyed.
It took several seconds for my mind to catch up with reality.
Then, once again, I spoke the only word my brain could assemble.
“How?”
The dragon woman leaned close, still half-clinging to me, so my sister answered instead.
“It’s her domain,” she said calmly. “The sky itself. Don’t panic. Think of it as ... mental manipulation given form.”
That explanation didn’t fully satisfy me—but strangely, it calmed me enough to breathe again.
The dragon woman finally spoke, her voice warm and melodic.
“Welcome to my domain, my love,” she said softly. “You will understand everything once you meet MANA.”
My heart skipped.
“Love?” I echoed weakly. “And ... may I know your name?”
She smiled—a radiant, unguarded smile that made the empty sky feel warmer.
“My name is Light,” she said. “And you are my destined one.”
My brain refused to process that.
Before I could protest—or faint—she placed a cup in my hands.
“Drink,” she said gently. “Coffee first. Questions later.”
I hesitated, then took a sip.
Bittersweet.
Rich. Smooth. Perfectly balanced.
My eyes widened.
I drank the entire cup far too quickly and immediately held it out again.
“More,” I said without thinking.
She laughed—a sound like bells in open air—and refilled it without hesitation.
This time, I drank slowly, savoring every sip.
I looked at her with a questioning expression.
She sighed dramatically. “Okay, okay. Enough staring. Come—answers now.” She tightened her grip on my hand. “We’re going to MANA. Until you get your answers—real answers—you won’t settle. So let’s go.”
All four of us stood.
Light led the way, taking only a few steps forward before the space itself folded. A portal bloomed open in front of us—silent, flawless, as if the sky had simply decided to part.
We stepped through.
The world on the other side was entirely different.
This place was vast—far larger than the sky domain we had left behind. The ground, the structures, even the distant formations were all formed from Mana Crystal Stone, the same material as the village’s mana altar—but refined, purer, alive with slow, rhythmic pulses of light.
At the center of this expanse rested MANA.
He lay coiled in his true dragon form, massive beyond comprehension. His body was not flesh in the traditional sense but condensed, visible mana—streams of violet, blue, and silver flowing beneath translucent scales. Each breath he took caused the crystal ground to hum faintly.
When Light called his name, his eyes opened.
The moment he recognized us, his form shifted effortlessly. Raw mana folded inward, reshaping itself into a tall human figure with calm, ancient eyes.
With a casual gesture, five chairs and a round table formed beside us. A tea set appeared next—simple, elegant, unmistakably deliberate.
“Sit,” he said gently.
We obeyed without question.
He poured the drink himself, handing each of us a cup. “Drink first,” he instructed. “Then we speak.”
I took a sip.
It was coffee—but different.
Stronger. Deeper. Bitter in a way that lingered, yet beneath it was warmth ... and something else. Power. Calm. Focus.
As if reading my thoughts, MANA smiled faintly.
“Yes. Coffee. Stronger. And infused with mana.” He leaned back slightly. “Now then ... the fact that you’ve come to me this early means only one thing.”
He looked directly at me.
“You require knowledge before anything else.”
He paused, allowing the weight of his presence to settle over us.
“Then let us begin at the very beginning.”
His voice was steady, timeless.
“Every form of life is born from mana. Every object carries it. Every grain of dust contains it—living or not, moving or still.”
He lifted one finger, and a mote of light formed above it.
“Before creation—before worlds, before time, before even this universe—there was only mana and elements. Pure. Raw. Unshaped.”
The mote expanded, becoming a shifting storm of light.
“There were no gods. No order. No balance. Only vast clusters of mana, endless storms, rifts tearing open between planes that did not yet understand separation.”
The light flickered violently.
“Existence was chaos.”
He lowered his hand, and the vision dissolved.
MANA leaned forward slightly, his eyes sharp now.
“And from that chaos ... dragons were born.”
He paused deliberately, allowing the truth to sink deep.
“There were countless mana clusters—vast, formless, and ever-shifting—each differing in size and intensity. Most drifted endlessly, colliding, dispersing, reforming. But among them existed one cluster so immense that its mere presence disrupted all others.
Chaos, unchecked, could not sustain existence.
For life to emerge, chaos had to settle.
That was when something awakened.
No being—not even God Mother—can fully explain it. We call it the Primordial Consciousness. In simpler terms, the System.
The System did not create life directly. Instead, it imposed purpose.
It reached into the greatest chaos-mana cluster and forced it to stabilize—not by suppressing it, but by giving it a reason to exist.
That purpose ... was balance.
And from that stabilized chaos, the first true being was born.
God Mother.
She was the first dragon.
The first consciousness.
The first lifeform to manifest with intent.
Her power was not domination, nor destruction—it was balance itself.
Balance between life and death.
Between justice and transgression.
Between order and freedom.
Between creation and annihilation.
The System entrusted her with a singular task—to stabilize existence.
But she was alone.
So the System granted her a privilege no other being would ever possess.
Creation of guardians.
God Mother is the only being capable of creating new true entities—beings not born of flesh, nor forged by chance. She can rewrite the rules of reality itself, bending the laws of existence as naturally as breathing.
When she accumulated enough power to begin her task, she created the first guardians.
Seven dragons were born.
First came me—Mana, the embodiment of raw existence.
Then, simultaneously, Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Light, and Void.
Together, we assisted God Mother in stabilizing the fractured chaos—guiding mana currents, sealing rifts, calming storms that tore across planes.
Yet as balance spread, the task grew greater.
More forces were required.
So God Mother created more elemental dragons—each a refinement, a specialization.
Many of them chose different paths, different universes, different duties.
But thirteen of us remained.
Healing.
Mist.
Lightning.
Poison.
Crystal.
Metal.
And now... you.
Creation.
In the dragon realm, names are not titles—they are truths. Each of us is named after the concept we embody.
Together, we formed a council by God Mother’s blessing.
It is known as The Sanctum of the Twelve Dragons.
Though we are thirteen, only twelve are counted.
I stand apart—not as superior, but as custodian. I maintain a council of my own, yet every matter of true importance is first brought before the Sanctum.
For in the Sanctum, the highest authority is not me.
It is God Mother.
Remember two rules, Creation.
First—every dragon is her child.
Before her, we greet each other as ’Well met, God Mother’ and ’Well met, brother’ or ’sister’.
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