| Under Construction |
| Beneath the Clouds |
| The storm was mighty, the
force of it's lightning great. Overcome by the pounding gales, drenched in
the rushing torrents pouring down upon you, you are nearly blown by the
forceful winds into a large cave. After wringing yourself out you notice a
smoky stench hanging in the strangely still air. A soft fluttering could
be heard behind you, then a metallic sound, rather like the unsheathing of
a sword. You turned around, to see a cloud draik eyeing you intently with
dark midnight blue eyes. His wings, abnormally large, were folded about
him, shielding his forepaws from view. Pupils were strangely dilated, as
if he were in a trance, but when he spoke, his voice seemed relatively
normal, "Good eve-- I mean, hello." He remarked, looking at the stormy
skies outside. After a short moment, he added with a toothy yawn, "You can
stay, if you like, until the storm abates. I've no problem with it." He
turned to recede once more into the miniature maze of caverns that
comprised his haven. As he turned you saw something silver glimmer in the
darkness, and could see that the outermost juts of his wings were bladed,
and assumed that they had been the author of the metallic clang
earlier. Feeling your eyes intent upon his back, he turned and looked at you, his wings cleaving themselves to his back, revealing his forepaws, and what they were holding. It was an orb that was nestled precariously between those large claws of his. It may once have been magical, filled with power, but now? Now it was dull, opaque, and with a large crack running down it's middle. If it had not been for it's glossy surface and symetrical features, it would have only been assumed a rock. He blinked, and after a rough moment of silence broken only by the faint clashing of thunder outside, he spoke, "I suppose you'll be wondering about this?" he lifted the orb slightly, a grim look settling about his features, "Once upon a time I would have simply told you to leave, and in fact wouldn't have let you in here at all, more for your own safety than anything else. But that was then, and this is now," he smiled ruefully at this, "Now I can tell you anything you like, for the Dragon Orb is broken, it's power long gone...." |
| The Dragon Orb |
What is the Dragon Orb? I cannot tell you all, not because of secrecy; the need for that has long since passed. It is because I myself do not know, but I will tell what I can. The Dragon Orb is a magical artifact, one which contains the essence of all dragonkind: good, neutral, and evil. There is supposed to be an even balance between the three, but the Orb would usually tend toward the side of the user. I cannot say owner, as none can truly control it. It takes control over you. Not so long ago, there was a war, my clan against another's. The reasons for it were petty, merely old blood feuds stirred for the umpteenth time. But the rewards for victory were great, and so my clan leaders threw themselves whole-heartedly into the din, sure of an easy victory. Why? Because of the Dragon Orb. With it, communication was fast and easy, all that was needed to do was convey the words to the Orb and the Orb would then convey them to the desired receiver. But that was not the complete reason they were sure of victory. The most important factor about the Orb was that it could foretell the future, and divulge the secrets of the past, although most of the time the information was garbled, and more than once in it's long history had it attempted(and succeeded) to fool the user. Always seeking to put them at a disadvantage, the user could not be weak of heart, easily intimidated, nor having a low self-esteem, for the Orb had a mind of it's own. One could be ensnared by it, as they were shown things he'd want to be shown, seeing things of perilous beauty. And so, as much as they wanted to keep it with them, my leaders placed it in our care, "our" being myself and my best friend. Of course, it would have been easy putting one to care for it rather than two, but they thought that the Orb wouldn't be as likely to take hold upon one of us if we were accompanied by another. We didn't think much of our duty, and were rather irked at having to live in separation in those, I mean, these, caves, the ones which you now stand in. I never noticed the firm grip the Orb was gaining upon my friend. Not even when he told me I could forsake my duty and leave, that caring for the Orb was a job for one only. I suppose I never really detected anything in his words, was only too glad to get out of these blasted caves. But for a few months, I was free, wandering where I would, sleeping under the comforting stars. During those months I was gone, no message was sent to me from him, but I worried little. Finally there came the message from our leader telling us to return the Orb to him, as he had a decision to make. I immediately flew back, and from the point of my entering the cave, was slowly sent reeling into the pits of hell... He was there, waiting for me, except it was not my friend that I saw; in fact, he didn't even seem remotely like the friend I had known before. I would have thought him dead had it not been for his eyes, eyes filled with a gleeful malice and insanity I had never though possible. The Orb was in one claw, held up as far as he could manage, and it was obvious that during those months I had been away, the Dragon Orb had sucked his life away. He cackled evilly, screaming incoherent words that only he could understand, but I got the gist: Keep away or risk the destruction of the Orb. I kept away, indeed, I even backed up a step. Slowly, knowing that his feeble, energy-depleted hands could hold the Orb for only so long, I attempted to negotiate, telling him that he could keep the Orb and we could set off, away from those god-forsaken caves. Of course, I never mentioned the place we would "set off" to--our leader's headquarters. Grudgingly, he agreed. But we were never to set off, for as he did, he let out a blood-curdling shriek, and keeled over to the floor, the Orb rolling out of his dead claws, the colors withing it's glassy depths spinning more wildly than ever. It had taken him, completely. It was with trembling hands that I took the Orb from the grass, unsure of whether it would decide to take me as it had done my friend. But it was only putting off that certain day , and only thrummed harmlessly in my grasp, crackling with the power it had obtained from the life force of my deceased friend... I could not take it to my leader that day, and instead paced back and forth all night, the light of the Orb casting my shadow against the cave's wall. Days went by, and although I received constand messages requesting for it's return, and threats to come themselves to get it, which they eventually did, but much too late. Like my friend, I felt it's grips upon the corners of my mind, yet despite the fact I knew it was dangerous, I could not rid myself ot it, always looking at it from the corner of my eye, but never able to rest my gaze upon it fully. Finally, the night came where I chanced to look upon it, curiousity battling and winning against my common sense. I carefully placed both hands upon it, feeling that nails-upon-chalk feeling as my claws scratched against it's surface. At first, I felt nothing, then sensed a presence moving about the Orb, then, although nothing seemed to happen that I could see, I felt claws grip me, as vision upon vision filled my head. And then, the Orb spoke, in my head, using the voice of my dead friend. "Elekar...."' I started, clearly caught off guard, and was about to take my hands away when the invisible grip upon them tightened, and I thought I was able to see the faint beginnings of an outline, an outline of claws, entwined against my own. I recognized my mistake, and said sharply to the Orb, "I wish to speak to my leader!" For a moment, the hold on me loosened, but did not let go. An insane, hysterical laughter rang through my mind, yet my ears registered no sound. "Thee thinks we would take orders from a mortal such as thyself?" the same voice of my friend seared through my brain, leaving it pulsing with pain. In a panic of fear, I attempted to wrench myself free of that grip, a grasp I now realized as a death-grip. Slowly, yet surely, the faint outlines began to solidify around my hands, and I recognized them to be that of my friend's, just as the voice had been. "Too late, too late!" they cackled with glee. With a gasp, I realized that the invisible grasp wasn't invisible anymore, and that their claws were digging through my hands, blood was now running down my claws, and being absorbed hungrily into the Orb. I frantically attempted to escape, but just as the voice had said, it was too late. A sharp stab of pain ran through my hands and up my arms as the claws tore a hole through each, but that pain was nothing compared to that which was being caused by the scathing laughter of thousands of dragons boring through my head. I felt something unpleasant fluttering throughout my mind, like a roach was squirming in my head, and a shudder went through my spine, but that was the last of the actions that I could then master. The claws loosened their grip upon me, and even let go. I immediately sought to take my chance and leave, but couldn't. To my horror, I could not move an inch, yet as I watched I saw my own claw lift from the Orb, mastered by me no longer. Darkness quickly rushed up upon me, seeking to envelope me in it's warm darkness. I fought it for as long as I could, but nonetheless, I was overtaken, the last thing heard from me was a loud crack echoing in the black... I woke, hours later. Drip... Drip... Drip... Drip... Slowly, groggily, I stood, seeking the source of the sound, but did not have to look far. My blood had pooled at the lip of a massive crater, and was slowly dripping into it's bottom. How that crater got there, I did not know, how my body was suddenly riddled with gashes I did not know. The Orb lay not too far away, a large rip running through it's glassy depths, it's light extinguished. I picked it up and ran, ran as fast as I could, as both my wings had been broken. They came, my clan leaders I mean, and I watched them enter, hidden away. They called my name, and my friend's, yet I never answered, only looked down upon them from above. Curious changes crept upon my body, I almost immediately noticed that the clouds dappling my scales had dulled to a grey, the skyblue darkening to a midnightblue, so that my coat resembled the night sky rather than the day's. But it was a while before I saw my eyes, in the reflection of a lake. They too had deepened from their former light greyish-blue to a dark blue, my pupils strangely dilated. Even if I had been spotted by my leaders, chances were they would not have recognized me. After they left, believing us dead I presume, I returned to the caves, although not that specific one which once housed the Orb. I never went in there again. I haven't talked to many; the caves here are many, and I could retreat to any number of them should a wanderer stumble upon the entrance. And why are you the exception? Do you really expect me to hear anything coming above this din? Either way, that is my tale, and the end of it, or as much as I know. |
| The Storm Abates |
Assuming that he had finished, you got up and yawned, as yes, admittedly, parts of his tale had been rather boring. You looked outside to see if the storm had finally relented, and saw that the pouring torrents had calmed to a slight drizzle. You looked back at him expectantly, and he snorted, "Don't ask me for permission to leave, don't you have a mind of your own? Just go." With a shrug, you got up and traipsed off through the springy grass, which was nearly unable to be seen through the thick mud. Unseen to you, the Draik's dark eyes followed your movements as you left, and for just a split second, a maniac glint could be percieved in his gaze, as he clutched the Orb to himself. During that same split second, the Orb seemed to glimmer, but weakly. Had Elekar been able to see the look in his own eyes, he would have recognized it as the same look he had seen in his friend's as he died, the day that Elekar himself had in a way died... The Orb eats at him still... |
