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Ch. 11: Alyx: Stats
🕑 Added 2025-08-12 22:00:08 +0000 UTCAlyx did not stare as Velillia disappeared behind her. She did not watch as the walls shrunk from the impossibly tall barriers between the vulnerable lower district and the wild continent to a thin line along the horizon. She did not look back as the only home she’d ever known disappeared behind them.
The wind was cold as it whipped around them. But the sun was warm on her face and beneath her, Kelstor’s wings beat at an even pace against the aether-rich skies of the Continent.
Below them, creeping along the Old Road, drove the caravan. Seven wagons lumbered over the uneven road surrounded by two dozen horseback riders. Marco was among them, while Telis was seated on one of the wagons. Cass rode behind Alyx on Kelstor’s back. She probably didn’t notice, but she was making happy humming noises as the wind gusted past them.
Alyx, Cass, and Kelstor were keeping watch from above. They were still close to Velillia, so beasts or bandits were unlikely at this stage, but gryphons and serives (winged serpents) roosted in the countless spires of the Sea and bandits could make the poor decision to set up along the road at any time.
But for now, things seemed peaceful.
From her vantage, she could see the caravan master, Exavier, in his feathered cap at the reins of the lead cart and his regular guards positioned along the train to either side, mixed in with the two other mercenary companies who had joined the caravan.
To the right was the Striking Rapids, led by Sir Galden Desmer Kaiz on horseback. They were easy to pick out by their shining armor and navy bands on their equipment. He stood out further with his long cape whipping behind him and the matching pendant flying from the base of his spear point.
To the left rode the Black Aerons, distinguishable by their blackened armor and mismatched armaments hanging from their bags. Their leader, Captain Welha Jont, sat on top of one of the wagon roofs, her sword lying across her lap, her eyes watching the wilderness with palpable intent.
Between the two companies and Kelstor there were four combatants over level 36, another dozen over level 30 and no reason this caravan should have any difficulties reaching the coast and Belden.
Her heart pounded in her chest anyway, for reasons entirely unrelated to the inherent danger of leaving an established city.
Her hand ran through Kelstor’s mane, curling into the fluff of gold, and brushing against the warm scales beneath.
He was here. This was real.
He really wasn’t dead. It still felt impossible, like a dream she’d wake up from any moment now.
But she could feel the thrum of his heart. Could feel the weight of his soul beside hers.
He was alive. And he was hers.
I missed you too, Kelstor whispered back, his voice echoing directly into her mind.
Alyx flushed. She wasn’t used to the mental communication yet. Her thoughts easily slipped across to him.
She could feel his chuckle rumble through his body below her. You’ll get the hang of it soon.
She had to. This was the bare minimum a dragon should expect of his knight.
And she was his knight. She repeated that to herself. She was his knight. A Dragon Knight.
She pulled up her stats window, marveling at the changes.
[Name: Alyx Aretios
Race: Dragon Knight
Lvl: 30
Str - 103 Dex - 55 End - 100
Wll - 28 Ala - 25 Res - 18
Frt - 68 Per - 34 Vit - 24]
There was no arguing with that. Those weren’t the stats of an ordinary human. They were nearly double what they’d been before binding with Kelstor, and they would only keep growing.
A normal human got three Free Points per level. A Dragon Knight got three more points, distributed according to their dragon’s values. Most dragon-knight pairs worked together to pick them at the First Step.
In her case, he and her mother’s choice seemed to have carried over. “[Your dragon reveres Strength, Endurance, and Fortitude. This will be reflected in future growth.]” the system had said. She couldn’t have gotten luckier. For all Kelstor had worried about them matching, she couldn’t have asked for a better set of stat growths from him. With her First Step expansion into Strength and the two Free Points grace at the Gate, she now got Str +2, End + 1, Frt +1, Free Points +5 every level.
There would be very few at her own level who could match her now. Fioreya, as another Dragon Knight could, obviously. Cass, as soon as she finally closed that ever-shrinking level gap. Maybe Kohen, depending on what exactly the fallout of his demonic powers were.
Now, she just had to decide what to do with all this power.
She’d wanted this for as long as she could remember. First, out of blind admiration for her mother, the way all children want to be like the parent they admire. Then, after her mother’s death, it had become a desperate need to prove herself and her absolve her mother’s name.
And yet, she hadn’t really expected to get here. Not really. Not when Kohen and Fioreya were both better supported. Not while she was constantly fighting to even stand on the same starting block as them.
But she was here now. And she didn’t know what came next.
If she hadn’t been banished, she would have devoted herself to the city, as was right as a dragon knight. She and Kelstor would have been one of the hoard. In time, they might have been granted a territory to protect or a position in court.
Her position as her father’s heir would not be questioned. She could set her sights higher, to the duchess’s heir if she wanted.
Did she want that?
It didn’t matter. She was banished.
It would have been trivial not to have been. All she had needed to do was use her boon from the duchess, and her father wouldn’t have been able to do a thing.
It was a waste to use the boon on such a thing, though. So she hadn’t. That was obviously the only reason she hadn’t.
No, all she needed was a feat of valor or strength or strategic merit, to Vaisom and her grandmother would be more than happy to welcome her home. As a dragon knight with a fully grown dragon at her side, returning to Velillia was a matter of when she felt like it, not if she could.
Did she feel like it?
She would go back eventually. She owed it to Kelstor. Cass would go home eventually, and then what else would she do?
Not that she was just following Cass around. No. She snorted. They might be friends, and they might be traveling together just because, but she wasn’t just following Cass.
Then what was she doing?
Her mother’s homeland was on Cass’s way. They had plans to stop. And then what?
Alyx’s hands wound deeper in Kelstor’s mane.
It didn’t matter. He was here now. As unbelievable as that was. She pulled up his stats page, as if seeing the system’s description of him would make him realer.
[Name: Kelstor Aretios, of Kaidrach’s Hoard
Lvl: 38
Race: Bound Dragon
Str - 120 Dex - 57 End - 96
Wll - 53 Ala - 21 Res - 32
Frt - 78 Per - 31 Vit - 72]
[Draconic Scale (Racial) (lvl 37)
Dragon Fire (Racial) (lvl 26)
Absolute Might (lvl 20)
Full Body Fighting Mastery (lvl 36)
Suppressing Bellows (lvl 15)
Tail Sweep (lvl 30)
Flight (lvl 9)
Scorching Lance (lvl 19)
Bramble Surge (lvl 10)
Battle Cry (lvl 20)
Architectural Aesthetic Understanding (lvl 5)
Identify (lvl 9)
Shielding Wings (lvl 24)]
Alyx frowned. Are these all your skills?
Discomfort rolled over their bond. Oh. You noticed.
There was no way a dragon at his level should have so few and such low leveled skills. She had more skills. Cass probably had more.
And it wasn’t like skills devolved from disuse.
I don’t know why it’s like that, he admitted. But I think it is a side effect of what the cult did to me while I was feral. They sliced at my soul repeatedly. I don’t remember most of it now, but…
No, it’s fine. Don’t try to. Alyx shook her head, her fingers twisting tighter into his mane. She wished she had more Copper Crescent cultists to kill. She’d dealt with their captain too quickly in the end. She should have returned Kelstor’s treatment on him and then some.
I’m fine now, Kelstor assured her.
But you’re not. His skills had been decimated.
I’m with you now, he tried again, broadcasting calm against the burning in her chest.
Her hands clenched tighter.
Skills can be earned again. He’d moved on. She should too.
One finger at a time, she forced her hands to relax. The people who’d hurt him were dead. The people who’d killed her mother were dead.
They were alive and together. And that was what needed to matter.
