#V;; YieldToTheFlame (Dragon)

[rakshakarana-blog]

OOC. If anyone wants to read this AU then it’s below the cut and its VERY LONG as a warning. Context; Symmercy && Lena/Emily world building history. Dragon!Symmetra and Werewolf! Lena with a god touched twist ;D 

Aka. They’re both children of the gods and Lena is more of a grim type doggo but yes!

To begin with there was one strong standing deity, no other could stand up to it's might and let alone rival it for dominance over the world. It was a benevolent beast, a creature of peace. The original god if one were to ever label the first to spawn; Overwatch. 

 It kept the monsters, the humans, the godly beings and all living upon the earth in check and brought it's wrath upon those that dared to oppose it but as time ticked by, Overwatch grew... lonely. They watched from their perch as life went on whilst they rested alone and, for the first time, Overwatch stepped down to walk the earth-- To find companionship.

It came in the form of a sailors daughter, a girl of the sea with a fiery personality and the gift of magic within her. She caught the godly beings attention with her affinity for healing, the balance she held and, well, Overwatch could never quite figure her out. She held their curiosity tighter than most other mortals ever had. But she was still. 

Mortal. 

And life blinked by faster than Overwatch wished. So they offered her their power, a taste, a blessing for their permanent company. So the fiery haired witch with a sharp tongue was gifted with immortality and became the first vessel. Sentient and free from constraint, Moira was still free to do as she wished. Overwatch would not force another to remain in their company but Moira was a woman of her word even if it was not binding; gave words the power they hold. 

Years fell into decades into centuries and humanity expanded. With it came war, came more monsters into life-- Came more godly beings and more chaos.

Overwatch was becoming aware that this was not something they could do alone. They needed help-- They needed another being of their power, another being like them to do what they could not but they had never been gifted with the powers of creation. 

 So, Overwatch turned to their vessel and asked for their aid in creating something new. Something powerful that could help them.  And she did.

Created from golden blood, from ash and earth-- With Overwatch's power and Moira's skills, she gave the god a son. She gave the god a Name. If ever her creation grew out of control, the Name would quell them but a Name was not a thing to be taken lightly and Moira was a fickle creature with her own agenda. So she kept the Name from Overwatch; hid the knowledge of it's existence. For all intents and purposes, this creature had no Name, yet. But it was called Blackwatch.

And Blackwatch did as it was created to. It did everything Overwatch could not. It's style and methods were... questionable but never did they step over the line to warrant interference from their paternal deity.  

Certainly, the whispers from the witch of the sea did not help; soft words of encouragement to push further, to become their own being away from what their father wished.

Eventually, breaking point rose. Blackwatch broke away from their father's wishes and took the matter of justice into their own hands. It was their job to see to peace, it was their job to do what their father could not and that meant making the choices they could not even if they refused.

And with it, the land was razed to keep the peace. Lives of innocent were taken in the crossfire and Overwatch was disgusted at the actions their son had taken behind their back. With further whispers from Moira, who remained a free entity-- A godly deity within her own right after centuries of honing her powers, a women with powers that could rival most minor and major gods that were starting to bloom into being-- 

 The pair fought.  The heavens were ablaze with fire and fury.

But Overwatch could not... kill their only child. For all that they had turned Blackwatch into, they loved the being. So when it came to striking the final blow, they could not. 

 Badly wounded and crippled, Blackwatch was sealed away with the aid of Moira and left to sleep for eternity. Overwatch, stricken with grief, fractured and crumbled under what they had wrought. Their body split and their power took the form in new bodies;

The sun and skies-- A benevolent deity of justice and righteousness. Touchable by those who walk the mortal world but her presence is felt by all. The maternal goddess, warmth gracing all who are blessed by her. A recluse though. It is says that she and the moon bare most of Overwatch's guilt for their actions. 

The moon and stars-- A wanderer, A soldier, cloaked in mystery. A just protector of the innocent but haggard, worn. It is said he is patron of the vagabonds, he roams the cities and keeps peace in Overwatch's wake. The night is a safer place for his light, a reflection of the sun yet strong within his own right. He act on vigilance, atoning for the mess left by Blackwatch and in hopes it redeems himself.

The Mountains, the earth, the stalwart protector-- They say this fragment of Overwatch is a colossus being. He rests within the mountains, laughter booming and shaking the lands. When an earthquake occurs, it is often commonplace to say it is Reinhardt moving and children grow up wishing to meet the gentle giant. Legend says that the only being capable of reaching the sun and moon is Reinhardt who stands tall enough to touch both. 

 The heart of the mountain, the fire and fury, the original maker-- The constant companion to Reinhardt, it is said that they were both created together for you cannot have one without the other. Reinhardt remains impenetrable because Torbjorn remains at his heels with the gift of fire and crafts. Out of all of Overwatch's fragments, he remains the most ingenious. He remains the only to create despite Overwatch being unable to himself. It is said the dwarves were created by him and the golems are his patron beasts. 

 Lastly, there is the wanderer. There is little known about this one. Some say he is a fragment of Overwatch, some say he is merely a monstrous being. He roams the sandy dunes, striking down the bandits and the criminals that make home within his domain. Some claim to see a mere man upon a horse when visited by this one but others? A calamitous wolf with razor teeth, skin as coarse as the sands he roams.

Blackwatch remained asleep as the new gods adapted to their world. They remained entrusted into Moira’s care. Moira who has no deity to report back to, no god to reign her in nor hold sway over her. She was left completely unchecked with raw power asleep at her finger tips.  And what a waste it would be to merely... leave Blackwatch, her prodigy creation, to go to waste.

 So she begins work on re-birthing it a new in quiet whilst the world recovers from Overwatch’s ‘death’ and Blackwatch’s banishment.

It takes years, decades-- The gods have settled in their ways, they're known and legends among the people. It is easier to find some than others. The sun and moon vanish during the third decade of existence but Reinhardt, Torbjorn and Jesse? They're there. They protect the world and they live on as intended. 

The world recovers, the incident is forgotten. New powers and names rise in Overwatch's absense. A beast of control that once lurked in the shadows, greedy for power now that there remains few that can stop it. A faceless beast of scale and fur-- 

 There in rises the creatures of earth and water and fire and winds-- Elements taking life in mortal form, the lands flourishing. Life is certainly not ideal but it is calm and right for once.

But there is no warning of despair, no prophecy that allows anyone to predict the creature that slithers forth out of the husk of Blackwatch. It resembles the prior deity but it is... warped, twisted. Black gas oozes off of it and colour has bled from it's form. There is no love nor care in their eyes any more, swirling black hardened by anger and hatred. Unleashed upon the world and within the bonds breaking Blackwatch, it is reborn a new. 

 Talon.

The creature is weak to begin with, feasting upon little more than small villages and towns that it passes through. It remains close to the sea, close to it's creator and 'guardian'. A woman whose hands give and take. Life and death balanced precariously upon her finger tips.

And she is smart.  She knows allies are needed, she knows Overwatch's strength even if it happened to be in pieces. If reforged, those pieces will rekindle the sleeping deity and that would be... problematic even with Talons new strength found so Moira seeks out allies in the darker places of the world. She seeks out the beast greedy for power in it's lair of shadows and grants it a seat besides them in their reshaping of the world. 

Vishkar is all too pleased to accept, crooning at the possibility for more.There are some among the clay born, the golems, that would defect and the sea belongs to her. It's creatures will bend to her whim or she will destroy them too.

It starts as rumors. A tale to scare children into returning home before dark--

There is Something out there that will get you. A bogeyman. And then there are sightings, survivors, as Talons strength grows and it's allies do too in kind.

There is this air of unease but nobody knows the answer, nobody knows who to beg for help-- Overwatch is gone and the pantheon fragmented with half of them vacant of their seat. 

It is only when a young god, born from strife afar, calls up to the heavens and prays for Overwatch's help. The beast, hardly man yet intelligent beyond any human's grasp, pleas for just a voice to answer-- begs for an answer, anything! 

 'The world is slowly succumbing to the shadows and this is your legacy yet you hide like cowards!' The primate yells into thin air, unknowing if the words were even heeded. If they do not answer then who will? The thought makes him want to vomit.

Only one answer, he wished for and yet the chorus of many answered. Many but not all. 

The mountains tremble and move for the first time in decades, erupting with a fire that promises to spark action. The hot desert sees billowing sandstorms sweep across the dunes with a figure riding lone at the center-- 

 Even those who do not fall from Overwatch's blood heed the call. An aquatic young god trying to save his home from an ally of Talon and his human vessel blessed with an impervious shield of harsh pink. 

The dragon of the south wind turns tail upon his raging war with his brother to plead help to the cause. The centaur clans of the plains and their young god pledge an army.

And yet, the sun and moon remain absent. Not even the mountains, himself, can reach them. He never could.

But it is something. It is hope and the young ape god is never more thankful for his Name than in that moment. 

They have something.

It takes time for them to co-ordinate.  Time they do not have as a wave of death and destruction slowly washes across the world. Any population that is not safely walled up is lost. Quickly. Humanity retreat to fortresses, retreat below the earth and to safety. 

The godly blacksmith raises armies of clay and stone to protect them. Bastions and bulwarks. A line of defense for life across the planet.

A reunion between fragments is always tearful when Reinhardt is involved. Jesse is welcomed back with open arms and the world becomes aware of him properly, become aware of his nature and that the large coyote wandering the dunes was not a beast nor a burden but a god within his own right.

They are not ready when Talon's attention falls upon them. Moira says they cannot be allowed to amass more power nor influence. They must be quashed, broken-- They must be destroyed and their power? That will be ours.

The ghastly beast is a formidable foe upon his own rights and with the aid of the witch and the creator, their combined powers makes the world tremble that day.

The mountain crumbles, so many lives are lost and there is still no answer from the sky. There is no gentle caress of moonlight nor scorching sun whilst they bleed--

So they are forced to retreat and Reinhardt offers a final sacrifice to permit them to escape. His powers? Breathed into one of Torbjorn's own blood with the promise of returning another day.

There, Reinhardt remains. Collapsed into the earth he nurtured from his first breath. The tree's, the grass, the ground-- It silently weeps his sleep.

The power shift is felt by all. It passes over every deity and every creature under Reinhardt's expansive shield--

There would be no laughter that night, no smile nor hearty chuckle. Only wounds to lick and the fleeting strings of hope unravelling.

That is hardly to say that their retreat was an entire loss. Blows were struck, their army weakened and time bought.

Strength was needed again. Vishkar and Talon split ways, taking their path of war in separate directions. Moira, as ever, remained in the shadows-- Close to her creation and revelling in the chaos caused.

The young water god, splitting away from the group with his vessel and the aid of the blessed child of Torbjorn-- The new mountain, powers still fresh and new. Vengeance was to be exacted and Vishkar had been weakened by the battle. Lucio would not see an opportunity to bring down the beast to pass him.

Catching the haughty beast was of no issue, speed was always his forte-- Beating the beast, however, was no feat of it's own. Blood of all parties was spilled but, ultimately, it was the vessel that offered the killing blow. Her sword brought down to decapitate the monster.

And collectively, they breathed relief. Vishkar's power was split in two--... 

 His head and his heart, into two beings. The head formed into scales, small and coiled; eyes calculated even upon birth. Curious. 

The body? It fell back into fur. Bright eyed and eager at the world. 

 A puppy and a drake, hardly bigger than their heads. Vulnerable children... Babies.

They were weak and to take their power meant Vishkar would never return again. Lucio would never have to fear the beasts return nor worry if his home would be destroyed or corrupted under their influence but they were children.

They were infants and the group was certainly not monsters in their own right. The pair were taken with intent to return to the group. Chaos and Order birthed into the world, bathed in the blood of their sire.

Talon, however? Talon was about to stumble into the gravest mistake of it's existence.

Feeding off of the essence of life to strengthen itself lead it to untouched areas-- Lead it to a large village that thrived despite the chaos and death that circled it. The air was... different here. It was static with power but no god nor monster fell from the sky to fell it so onwards it pressed, hunger insatiable.

Fire licked the buildings, smog thick in the air and the screams of innocents deafened the sky.Talon REVELED in the pain, in the chaos as it rampaged down the streets. It watched as people fled in terror, watched as parents sent away children running unto the cruel world-- 

It watched as they cowered in corners and begged the sun, the sky and the gods themselves to please save them.

Toppling a building and snapping its maw down, devouring any within it's reach, Talon took no prisoners. Two humans torn away from their child and murdered-- 

Bright blue eyes and pale blonde hair watched in silent horror before a scream...

The sky bleeds in colour, hues of red and yellow drowning out the soft blue. The moon curls over the sun and darkness softly washes over the land. A harsh flash of white cuts through the inky blackness and rising up to meet Talon with claws and teeth bore.

The moon passes and an owl passes over head, feathers pure white with hints of yellow washing at the tip-- Talon only gets a fleeting snap before a lion-like beast is at it's throat. The battle is almost too painful to look at, too bright but blood splatters the grounds regardless.

From the fray, the powerful beast retreats for the first time in it's life leaving battle worn and tired deities in it's wake. Fur and feathers stained in golden blood as they heave. Only seconds break taken before attention falls back to their people-- The burning buildings and destruction.

It is the sun who shrinks to a more humanly form first, who offers a kind and familiar smile to the village. Offers them calm, safe haven and sanctuary as the moon aids in pulling survivors from the wreckages.

They can no longer hide.  The battle has curled up on their doorstep and their guilt, to be faced.

So it is with a small village of dirty and trembling humans does the sun and moon appear. 

Never once had Overwatch been reunited and, again, today was not meant to be. The sun mourns the loss of the mountain harder than the moon, her chest aching deep to her bone but now is not the time to mourn nor hide-- 

Now is the time to act. 

 The bloodied four pieces of Overwatch with the old and new gods rallied at their side take the fight to Talon this time. The beast is wounded and Moira can only heal so fast--

This fight is bloodier, harder-- Everyone aches and the initial fire held is a dim ember in comparison.

 But they fight on. 

It is the moon who slays Talon in the end.  The moon with claw marks down his face, spitting blood and legs trembling who crushes the beast--

And Talon's fall is the fall of all.  Not even Moira holds strength enough to stand up against the number of gods against her.

It is the sun who exacts justice against Moira, banishing her to her birth place and binding her to the sea to never step foot on land again. Let her be locked in the waves, cursed to watch humanity thrive but never once touch it again.

The moon, the sandy desert wanderer and the heart of the mountain watch as Talon's form breaks apart, watches it fragment into four--

The infants born are their responsibility as Blackwatch was overwatch’s and they failed their son.

The choice to kill them is heavy on their minds, they should but this is redemption. This is a fresh start for all of them.

So the four are taken and split.  To be kept apart but alive.

The moon takes death, takes the reaper.  He will know of his creators sins but the moon hopes he will grow to be better. However, darkness is feared again because of death. The moon is a blessing of comfort but the inky blackness that clings to it gives chills--

War is taken by the desert wanderer.  There will be no better place for something of this magnitude to thrive than a place where there is nothing but bandits that seek a fight. He hopes he can instill honour into the creature, hope he does not fail the young chaotic deity like so many others had before him.

The heart of the mountain takes pestilence.  She is a joker, a trickster but she is family. She adapts into the family and is, arguably, the happiest of the four. She is a wanderer but always wanders home. There is no judgement found at the heart and her curse is not held against her here.

And lastly, the sun reluctantly takes famine.  And she returns to hiding. She remains at the coast to watch the witch of the sea, someone must keep vigil. The sea is stormy here, the waves brutally lap and wash at the shore in anger and Ana rarely sees the sun but never does she fail to smile. A family is raised. Famine, her own blood and herself--  Food is scarce at best from fishing here but the village is warm, welcoming. They thrive despite their struggles and Amelie, well. She grows well, she grows good but she is stolen too soon. The sea claims her a few years into a happy marriage, a well loved member of the village, a dancer. A daughter--

The world recovers, stronger but warier.  They are less quick to trust the gods and lesser quick to put faith in magic. They had all bled enough from those horrors. 

Some of the gods return back into hiding, others more openly in the light but one thing is certain, if Moira breaks free from the sea then Talon will return--