Saga of the Dragon: Torrents of Fire

[Izvilvin]

“Call it what you will,” chimed the man in the black robe, “but I’m telling you that you’re gouging me.”

The shopkeeper laughed aloud, his breath overwhelming the man before him. Within his hairy-knuckled grasp was a wand that looked about a hundred years old, cracked and discolored like an ancient collector’s item. Peering through the hood of his robe, the man looking to purchase it – for what he’d seen as a reasonable price – could sense the magical power in it. This was no antique trinket, but a working magical item. The fact that the shopkeeper didn’t know that should have made the offered price more than acceptable, but on the streets of Radasanth, one always had to dodge unfair prices.

“A hundred gold ain’t a bad price, mate. This is an old antique I got from a skeleton down in the depths of the Kachuck mines! I spent that much just for the supplies to get myself down that low.”

His voice was cracked and old, though the shopkeeper didn’t look much older than 30. He spoke with a slight lisp and often licked his chops, fiddled with his beard or scratched himself. He was clearly nervous, for whatever reason. The robed man saw these all as signs of lying, and his grimace reflected that.

They stood in silence for just a moment as the crowd moved around them, the voices of a dozen other hagglers filling their ears. “Fifty is as high as I’m willing to go for a used up relic. If I didn’t collect them, I’d have left you and your greedy intentions behind me as soon as you even suggested a price above it,” the robed man said at length, crossing his arms in a defiant gesture of resolute.

Groaning, the shopkeeper slid the item over the old wooden counter of his ragged stall, flipping his hand over expectantly. The customer dipped his fingers into a pocket and produced five platinum coins, sliding them over and snatching the wand in one swift movement. He smiled under his hood and walked away, holding his new possession close to his face so he could inspect its more subtle characteristics.

Alurnes was his name, and knowledge was what he loved best. His brother had aspired to be a powerful wizard, but while Alurnes was somewhat capable with cantrips and enchanting magics, he had no real desire to obtain arcane power. He was more concerned with collecting old treasures and spreading what information he had obtained in his many, many years of study. He was, indeed, so much unlike Sasarai, who he hadn’t seen in years.

His hair was longer than his brother’s, growing a few inches past his shoulders, but the color was precisely the same. Alurnes didn’t care much for his aqua-toned locks, but never argued when he was given a compliment on them. His eyes were lighter as well, a more cement-like color than Sasarai’s. Their faces were alike, but Alurnes was noticeably older and less clean-shaven, with higher cheekbones and a more rigid jawline compared to his brother’s round face.

Despite how much time he’d invested in this sort of research, Alurnes couldn’t decipher what kind of wand it was that he held. Most could be identified by their shape, material, inscriptions or crystals, but this one baffled him. It seemed to be just a regular piece of old wood, but he could sense the power within it. Normally, with this sort of item, it was impossible to tell how many charges were left in it without a visit to an Archmage, and this wand appeared to be no exception. Despite how shrouded in mystery the wand was, Alurnes was more than satisfied with it. He would enjoy the next couple of days spent examining it.

Without even lifting his eyes, the man walked into the Silver Pub, pushing open the saloon doors with his rear and turning to look about. There were few customers so early in the day, but Martin was behind the bar milling about, cleaning dishes and mopping up listlessly.

“It’s a slow day, isn’t it?” Alurnes declared more than asked, pulling down his hood to reveal long blue hair that looked unkempt. “The sun is high in the sky, seeming to support a slow walk and a lazy way of moving. I’d feel bad if I was in a rush to go anywhere.”

Martin didn’t need to look up to know who it was. “Buying more trinkets at the Bazaar? Aren’t you getting a bit old for that now?”

“Trinkets they may be, but regardless of that, they are treasures. See for yourself,” he said, sliding the cracked old wand over to Martin’s quick hand.

The bartender looked quickly – too quickly, Alurnes thought – at the wand before sliding it back over to him. “Nice stick,” he said with a chuckle.

“Oh Martin, you lack the eye for detail that people like me possess. Can’t you look at this wand and feel the history within it? This item has seen days you and I are far too young to even know about, let alone have seen. How can that not fascinate you?”

Martin merely shrugged and slung a rag over his shoulder, looking up into Alurnes’ grey eyes for the first time thus far. “I’d ask how much you wasted on that thing, but since it’s probably a year’s worth of my wages, I don’t think I want to know. Don’t you have a speech to give at Istien today?”

Nodding, Alurnes had a pallid look on his face. To give a speech at Istien University was a dream to many people who sought knowledge the way he did, but he was not overly excited about it. There was something he disliked about telling people what he knew, for he preferred the hands-on approach to learning, through study and experience. Still, he was being paid an awful lot for the honor, and couldn’t deny the University his expertise on the particular subject he was to cover: Enchantment Magic.

“In a little while, yes, I do. I’ll be sure to spend my pay here and at your city’s lovely Bazaar, my friend.”

Rolling his eyes, Martin chuckled, and Alurnes turned to leave.

[Izvilvin]

It was the most exhilarating, otherworldly thing Sasarai had ever experienced. He’d flown a hundred times before under his own power, but on the back of the Blackened Fire, Glimmerfang, the great ancient dragon who once ruled the lands under his powerful maw, he felt positively elated. A drunken sense of unbridled power had accompanied his every move, his every thought, since the moment the great dragon had made it known that he was Sasarai’s beast to command. Nothing could withstand the sheer might of the golden creature’s muscle, even lesser so the heat of its breath.

All he needed was a place to begin his reign of terror. Surely after a few swift strikes at some of Althanas’ primary locations, word of Glimmerfang’s return would spread. From there, he would take the next step, and officially declare himself emperor of the world. It was a delightful thought.

The dragon flapped its massive wings once, bringing itself and its master up and above the clouds themselves. The light here was incredible, unlike anything Sasarai had ever witnessed. He felt so close to the sun, with no clouds to block it. Looking down upon them, Sasarai marveled at how the light shone atop the clouds, like something out of a dream. He’d completely forgotten that he hadn’t slept in two days.

“Dragon,” he yelled, fearing his voice would be lost to the wind. “Take us to Eluriand!”

Glimmerfang dipped immediately through the clouds. Sasarai needed to hold onto the dragon’s scales as hard as he could to avoid losing his footing. The world looked so tiny from their place above it, as if each mountain was but a small piece of the painting of the crust. It gave the wizard even more satisfaction in what he had attained.

****

Jhol Jhaedaes walked the thin hallway between the armory and the wizard’s sphere, his armor clinking gently with each light, graceful step. The walls around him were a marble so sleek and shiny they seemed new, though the old general knew they were the same walls that had protected Velicë Arta for generations. The stone was merely enchanted.

The man himself was a general in the building, a man charged with leading a substantial portion of the Raiaeran military and defending Eluriand. His hair was long, blond, and incredibly fine, as thin as piano string and impossibly straight. On his hips were two thin blades made of Mythril, and across his back were another pair, crossed under his longbow and mirror-images of the others.

His body was covered in a thin, enchanted chainmail which protected him from far too many things. The armor was Mythril as well, as white as ivory and light as a thick sweater. Even the general’s boots were enchanted, granting him the ability to run much faster than a typical elf could.

The archway leading into the wizard’s sphere was adorned with a hundred jewels of various colors. Johl passed through it without a glance at the decorations.

Inside, the wizard’s sphere was precisely that, a small chamber that held a massive sphere within it. In actually, it was a hemisphere that jutted out from the center of the room, with plenty of room to move about it. Most times, the globe was clear and held a grey smoke within it, but today it held the image of a golden dragon soaring downward through the sky.

“Now I see what you were speaking of,” Johl said aloud to a man who stood across the room, gazing nervously into the orb.

The elf across the way was Villandil Dos’Orlan, the wizard charged with watching over the lands around Eluriand for signs of trouble, using the wizard’s sphere as his telescope. He was shorter than Johl by about a foot, had short white hair that barely reached his eyes, and wore a forest green robe that hid his fragile frame. By his side was a yew staff, leaned against some boxed in the corner of the room. He looked up to see the general standing thoughtfully on the other side of the looking sphere.

“The creature seems to be coming toward us, so I thought it best to let you know as quickly as possible so you could organize some defense of some sort, or whatever it is you do. It’s possible it will just fly back up when it comes near, but we can’t be too careful.”

“Mm-hmm,” mumbled the general. “I’ll do so.” He said, but did not immediately move. After a moment’s pause, he spoke again. “This dragon is quite larger than a typical one, isn’t it?”

“Much so, I’d say, but it’s impossible to tell from this kind of vantage point.” He replied, nodding.

Johl sighed deeply and left the wizard’s sphere, ready to mobilize enough forces to drive the creature away should it decide to descend too low.

[Izvilvin]

Nothing could calm the nervous tension in Alurnes’ body. Despite having given a dozen similar speeches at this very auditorium on a dozen different occasions, the image of a thousand or so elves sitting in an audience, eyes locked on where he was to stand and present his teachings, was impossible to feel perfectly comfortable with. He held against his chest a large book with a scarlet cover, his notebook which detailed a few hundred of his wise observations and hypotheses.

A nearby elf, its eyes eerily cold and calm, the kind of pallid look that came from over a century of life, Alurnes imagined, presented the stage to him as he pulled back a red curtain. A chorus of clapping greeted the grey-eyed presenter as he stepped forward into the blood rush that was the beginning of his presentation. He swallowed hard and smiled, feigning comfort, as he approached the mantle ahead of him.

Silence soon fell over the crowd, so that even those at the back could hear the sounds of Alurnes’ book touching the mantle and the flipping of the pages. Before him was a circular green light, a sideways halo, which was in truth a magical device to amplify his voice to the entire chamber. He brought his lips closer to it.

“Today we discuss the intricacies of enchantment magic,” he said, clearing his throat immediately after. “The only kind of which can be used in all situations, at any time, to achieve any means, anywhere. Nothing within the realms of the arcane is quite as flexible, and I would argue, as useful, as enchantment magic.”

His words echoed long and loud, and Alurnes found that he needed to clear his throat again.

Meanwhile, outside of Eluriand, Johl Jhaedaes stood with a hundred soldiers behind him, their collective gaze turned upward at the clouds. Each of them was armed with longbows as a precaution, though in truth, the general thought the entire thing was a formality. Thus, he had not informed his captain of the situation. It was a decision he would regret, in the end.

The sky, apart from being blanketed by thick clouds, was clear. There was no dragon in sight, even to the trained, enhanced eyes of the elves.

“The wild dragon has left?” asked a soldier behind him, his high elven voice lending an almost innocent effect to the question.

Johl considered the possibility for a moment, and thought it the most likely conclusion. Dragons were uncommon in this day and age, especially wild, roaming ones, but the creatures were smart enough to avoid a whole lot of attention when they took the time to soar. The formality over, the general took his hands off of his sheathed blades and began to turn, when a unified gasp from his soldiers brought his gaze back upward.

The dragon, gleaming like a golden beacon in the sun the broken clouds had brought forth, darted downward like a downcast arrow, its wings folded behind it and its great maw extended outward. The wizard’s sphere had revealed the creature to be larger than a typical wyvern, but even from the distance it was at now, Johl knew that dragon’s size had been largely underestimated through the magical looking device. He estimated it to be as large as Istien itself, though he had no way to truly find out unless it approached. The general sincerely hoped that it would not do so.

As frightening a beast it was, Johl and his troops did not falter, nor did any of them flee. They stood strong as the dragon flapped its wings and came closer, moving slowly. It seemed to be considering things. Johl imagined it was sizing up the force that stood before Eluriand’s gates, but truly it was listening intently as Sasarai whispered in its ear.

“Slay the elves and move farther north, to Istien. We leave Eluriand’s palace and the elven homes for now. I would like for the city to dedicate itself to me without any damage sustained to it, except of course for that university of theirs.”

On cue, Glimmerfang beat its wings and burst forward with frightening speed, dipping down at Johl and his men.

“Arrows!” the general cried aloud, for though the creature was close, he knew he and his men could each fire at least a single arrow before it was within range to blow its fiery breath. Perhaps the attack would be enough to drive the dragon away.

A hundred twangs of string cracked through the heavy air, launching iron-tipped arrows at the incoming beast. To Johl’s complete horror, the arrows seemed to do nothing to harm the creature, which flew through the volley without a sign of pain. “Scatter!” he demanded, running off to his left as the dragon’s gaping mouth snapped down. It could have easily swallowed him and several of his troops in one go.

Rolling to his knees, Johl had to lay backward at the last moment to avoid the dragon’s tail as it swept by him. The gust of wind which followed Glimmerfang’s path physically pulled him a few feet along the ground before he stood, bow in hand and arrow immediately notched. He took a brief survey of his men, noted a few missing and many more downed, and clenched his teeth.

Now he could see the blue-haired Sasarai sitting upon the dragon’s back, arms crossed as he seemed to somehow keep himself in place. Johl didn’t have time to consider the man’s role in the attack as he barked his next orders. “Aim for the eyes when it comes in for another sweep! We protect Eluriand until death!”

Nobody argued, despite the sheer horror Glimmerfang had induced in the elves. They each notched another arrow and spread out horizontally, by Johl’s orders. On his name, they would repel the creature.

[Izvilvin]

“By Selana,” Villandil muttered as the dragon came into full view. The wizard’s sphere was not a tool well used to gauge size, but when Glimmerfang dove down through the scores of elves, the wizard gained a sense of just how massive the creature truly was.

He did not hesitate in taking up his staff and walking briskly down the hallway which led to the armory, turning at the first opportunity and climbing the old cement steps. From there it was another few turns and some long passages to a room he knew well, where half of the wizards of Eluriand spent their time in study, doing little else. Through their extensive research, it was not only possible to memorize spells for future use, but actually learn then permanently and discover different ways to use them. It was no wonder this was the main hobby of many of the magic-slinging elves.

Villandil entered with his eyes opened wide, breathing heavy. “Attention!” he called, commanding the full attention of all nearby, which thankfully was a substantial number of wizards and budding mages. “The safety of Eluriand is compromised. Follow me immediately to the gates of the city.”

He paused as the elves within the room readied themselves, not a single one of them raising their voice to argue. “There’s no need to explain why… You’ll see.” He muttered grimly.

***

Alurnes had the crowd in the palm of his hand, like so many times before when he paused for the purpose of drama. He’d perfected this art of crating a story out of his information, knowing just how to provide insight and entertainment at the same time.

He’d been telling the story of himself as a young man, several years ago, when he had obtained a tome that unveiled to him to intricacies of demonite magic – a kind of spellcasting where the wielder sacrificed pieces of a living demon’s body in order to enact the effects listed within. However, upon opening the cover he’d been assaulted with the will of the tome, which sought to transform him into a demon.

What came next was an enthusiastic recounting of the battle of wills between a young Alurnes and the tome. Using naught but his spells at hand and his power of mind, the young wizard had battled with the book, fighting off the mental and physical intrusions the magical curse tried to place on him. His enchantments protected him from mental deterioration as he countered each spell cast, all the while trying to place a ward of subservience upon the sentient book.

With flair one might have thought foreign to the one with blue hair, Alurnes slammed his hand against the altar, completely beyond the fear and nervousness that had plagued him earlier. “The tome, for all its power, could not break the ward of mind I had placed on myself earlier. For an ill-prepared man, the competition with the book would have turned him into a walking demon, a subject for the evil spells found within the book’s pages! But when prepared, even a young fletchling like myself, years ago, could deal with the powerful artifact.”

“Without the enchantments of protection I had, I would not be standing before you today in this vain attempt to teach elves, elves who will live hundreds of years longer than I will, about the importance of these magics,” he followed, seeing a few uncomfortable movements in response to his bold declaration of his mortality.

He began to continue, when a crash shook the audience chamber. Alurnes turned his gaze to the ceiling, where he thought the source of the movement to be, but he saw nothing. Gasps rose up in the chamber due to the sudden noise.

A second crash took him from his feet and knocked over the altar, his book, and the amplification device. A loud ring deafened the elves in the area as the magical thing hit the ground, and Alurnes himself blocked his ears.

The ceiling, before his very eyes, buckled and bent, torn away by the talons of some creature he could yet see. As if it were a house of paper, Glimmerfang playfully ripped off the thick roof, before sticking his great maw into the audience chamber and giving a great roar. If the amplification device were able to make such a sound greater, Alurnes was glad that the roar had broken it instantly.

He thought to rise and run, but was simply paralyzed with fear. The dragon, eerily calm as its golden eyes peered at the elves running about, was large enough that its entire head could not fit into the massive chamber. It radiated a power unlike anything he’d ever felt, ever considered! Like the stuff of legends, that killed the noble heroes and the innocent bystanders alike.

“Elves of Eluriand!” called a confident, boastful voice, the voice of a man who thought himself a God among mere mortals. “Now begins the rule of Sasarai Azhere and his loyal subject, Glimmerfang of Blackened Fire!”

A collective gasp escaped those of whom knew the name of the dragon. The others merely continued to run and scramble, desperate to escape the imposing creature and his maniacal commander.

“Brother?” Alurnes mouthed, his eyes locked on the tiny figure atop the golden dragon’s neck. From here he could see the familiar blue hair of Sasarai, but the idea that he was atop the great dragon Glimmerfang was incredulous.

Yet there he was, and it was unmistakable.

[Elrundir]

A shadow raced across the windswept plains of Raiaera, plunging westward toward the gleaming jewel of civilization that was Eluriand. Despite its wyvern-like shape there was no body to accompany the blackness. From the sky it must have appeared some kind of terrestrial beast swimming beneath the crust of the earth, ready to surface at any moment. It was, however, no such thing. This shadow was none other than Elrundir Galadhrim, controlled by the festering taint within him.

He had been infected by the shard of darkness during a purification attempt on a tree in the Red Forest some months ago, and once it took over his body it had been loath to return to the great elven nation ever since. The taint, whatever it was and wherever it came from, was well aware that the purification songs of that grand city and its pompous elves would be enough to drive it out and banish it forever. As an honoured friend of the elves, Elrundir would find many of Turlin’s bards at his aid if given the chance. The taint was not willing to release its hostage, though.

And yet, today the grand darkness had decided to make an exception. There was a power rising in Raiaera, a might so terrible and powerful that even the taint had to quiver as the normally-imperceptible tremors of its aura rippled throughout the world. Approaching Eluriand, the beacon that it had avoided for so long, was a justifiable risk in this case. It would find the source of the power, destroy it or take control of it, and make its next move thereafter. If the situation turned out well, it would no longer need this comparably-pitiable host, and thus Turlin’s bards would be of little consequence.

The tremors of power grew only stronger, exponentially, as the shadowy Elrundir approached. Occasionally the taint forced him to stop, lifting its head off the surface of the earth to get a good look at Eluriand in the distance; its upper half swirled like a chaotic maelstrom when it did so, for shadow was such a disconcerting thing to see in all three dimensions. Elrundir, for his part, did little to resist the taint this time – though he rarely could put up much of a fight against it anyway. It was bringing him closer to Eluriand, his home, and a chance at freedom from the menace. He had waited this long; it was worth putting up with the taint’s control for just a while longer.

Glimmerfang’s magnitude was barely comprehensible until Elrundir got truly close to the city walls. From his vantage point, it seemed as though the mighty dragon was comparable to the grand Velice Arta itself… as though it could latch onto it and use it as a roost from which to rule the world if that was its desire. More peculiar still was the blue-haired human atop. To think that such an impudent human could control a force like this! The taint pulled Elrundir’s mental reins and urged him forward with redoubled speed.

It was not long before the elf reached the Istien University. Loath though he was to admit it, Elrundir realized he was no match on his own for the dragon or its rider – well, he was fairly certain about the former at least, but may have had his doubts about the latter. It was lucky, then, that he would not have to test its strength alone. The city was, not surprisingly, mounting a defence against the mighty Glimmerfang, even as its rider’s words boomed through that section of the city:

“Now begins the rule of Sasarai Azhere and his loyal subject, Glimmerfang of Blackened Fire!”

For a moment, Elrundir had to consider which was Sasarai and which was Glimmerfang. The latter hardly seemed like a human name, idiotic though the race was on the whole, so he had to (grudgingly) assume that Sasarai was indeed the impudent little blue-hair who called himself lord and master. Little wretch, the elf thought; for once, both his mind and the taint were in perfect agreement. He rose out of the shadows, forming himself on the roof of another building on the university campus where several Dagorlin elves were preparing a battle chant. His appearance, not to their credit, startled several of the elves who recognized him as one who fought against Xem’zund’s armies during the undead invasion and the first appearance of the Obsidian Spire. It was not long after that when Elrundir had disappeared, however, but perhaps it was not surprising that he had returned now.

If only they could have known it was not Elrundir in control. They had no time to see that there was a certain darkness in his eyes, a certain swirling malice deeper than time, that belonged to something far older and greater. It was to the taint’s misfortune that it was limited by this vessel; otherwise Glimmerfang might have had a sporting match yet.

The elf’s lack of response to their surprise was taken as intense determination and focus on the task at hand, and so any elves that had separated themselves from the song quickly joined back in. Elrundir melted into it as well as soon as he was able; it was a chilling song of frozen wastes and the legendary warriors who dominated it. According to the stories, they fashioned their weapons out of the diamond-hard ice itself and slew any who drew near.

Accordingly, the joint efforts of the mages and their song called into being a storm of icy spears, surrounding Glimmerfang in an inescapable formation. The bringers of pain hovered in the air and glittered briefly in the sunlight before they raced towards their shared target. All the elves expected to see blood, hear cries of pain, watch the arrogant little Sasarai choke on his own words.

Their expectation failed them. Spear after spear of ice shattered into nothing more than a fine powder, and while Glimmerfang flinched uncomfortably under their constant barrage, there was no reason to assume it had taken any considerable damage. The great beast had even shielded its rider with its massive wings, and even those appeared barely harmed despite their relative vulnerability.

“How fascinating,” Elrundir said aloud, though he lacked any sign of amusement to follow it. His voice croaked through the mixture of elf and taint. “It appears I may not need you much longer after all.”

[Izvilvin]

Initially, Sasarai seethed as the song picked up in power, the taste of powerful magic rising in the air and wafting up to his nostrils, as if he could indeed smell it. Spears of ice materialized and he readied himself to deal with any that would approach him, but he did not need to after all. The great wings of the dragon rose up to catch any of the projectiles that would have harmed its master, each spear snapping apart as they struck Glimmerfang's powerful golden scales.

The wings lowered to reveal Sasarai once more, laughing madly as he drank in the dragon's essence of power. "How fun!" he cried, forgetting any fear he might have had earlier about approaching Eluriand so boldly.

"Dragon, do teach these elves some manners. Strike fear into those who would ignore my demand for servitude!"

At the word, Glimmerfang moved away from the roof of the Istien University and landed thunderously on the ground, his maw stretching toward the group of bards that had sung their attack upon him. The elves scrambled as the massive teeth of the dragon snapped at them, desperate to escape the fate the beast promised.

Meanwhile, Alurnes climbed desperately up the wall of the auditorium, his hands sticky like those of a spider's due to the enchantment he'd placed upon himself. He shook with each movement, heart pounding nervously as he considered what he meant to do. Reaching the top of the gash Glimmerfang had torn in the ceiling, Alurnes pulled desperately with his adhesive fingers to reach the top.

Standing, the blue-haired man rushed to the edge of the roof to gaze down upon the attacking dragon, his heart caught in his throat. "Sasarai!" he cried as loud as he could, a fluttering in his chest making the sound waver.

Sasarai looked up, half-interested, then grinned as he saw his brother standing above. "Brother!" he called, somewhat jovially. He stood on the dragon's back and soared upward, rather certain that the elves were too busy dealing with Glimmerfang to bother with him.

"Giving another of your interesting speeches at the esteemed Istien University?" Sasarai asked as he reached Alurnes' level, standing on the roof beside him.

"What are you doing, brother?" Alurnes asked incredulously, baffled by his brother's casual demeanor. "You are going too far... Are you lost in your thirst for power?"

Sasarai looked genuinely hurt for a fleeting moment, before he barked out a laugh. "My thirst is quenched, Alurnes. I have what I've been seeking all these years. All that's left is to make Althanas aware of it, and the world will be mine to rule over. The question is, will you be with me at the top?"

"No." Alurnes said quickly. "Who wants to rule with an iron fist? No one man can run the planet. You cannot control the entire world with a single dragon as your weapon!"

"Of course not," Sasarai surprised him. "There are a myriad of demons from the Nether that I may control. Do you think me so stupid to believe Glimmerfang, alone, can defeat every warrior of this world?" The shorter of the two smirked and slapped his older brother on the arm. "Do reconsider, Alurnes."

He leapt down into flight, heading back to Glimmerfang, who had effectively scattered the elves and was merely waiting for him to return.

Alurnes looked on with wounded eyes, knowing his brother had gone too far to turn back now. I should never have left him to his own devices, he thought, pangs of regret shooting through his heart.

[The Madd Hatter]

When fate intervenes in the world, certain people across the planet can feel its strings being pulled. As if some giant metaphysical hand is being placed on the tapestry of the universe, everyone attuned gets the strange sensation of being pulled, tugged, or even ripped to the epicenter of change. The wheel spins on and on, weaving new threads and new possibilities, changing history in every second, but the massive changes, the ones nobody will ever forget, are the ones that draw so dearly. With greater power and greater understanding of the threads, the more vast the effect of the pull; as such, the dreams of a certain being were shredded instantly and all conscious thought left except for one thing, I must go.

Thus in short seconds a wisp of imagination swept across the land, escaping from its watery home in the back of a waterfall and gliding across the land, moving at speeds only possible in dreams. At moments, when denizens of reality were near, they saw glimpses and snatches of it, seeing not a person but a piece of their nightmares. Anger surged through it, anger and malice and an extreme need. Fear struck deep into the heart chords of the unlucky souls that spotted it that day, for though it was not awake, when it woke it would have the fury of all the angels.

Nothing, nobody, no one dare takes the dreams away!

Eluriand rose up, a beacon of hope and yet a perch for dread, the horizon dominated by that solitary city. Beautiful in all its simplicity, a work of nature yet made by hand and song, the city was not encroached upon by a creature that nature has spit out. A piece of bile in the expanses of the universe, the dragon-kin of darkness; the beast that, in all its great power and magnificence, did not understand for a moment the desire of the mind’s realm for freedom. Reign of this was not an option.

The Madd Hatter simply couldn’t allow it.

Standing statuesque on a nearby roof, watching the massive dragon roar and crash and destroy, the Hatter growled. His voice was unnatural, something that would drive a mortal mind to insanity if heard. Whispering to himself, he vowed in that instant to end the reign of the demon king before it ever started. The threads of fate were tugging hard, and even as he stood there he struggled not to be drawn into the maelstrom that was forming. The tapestry was being ripped apart at its deepest, and soon his own realm would begin to be effected. Taint and destruction must end here, in the physical, before it was allowed to take root in this world and become a menace.

Heroes would rise up, it was no doubt. When a power like this came, and the strings were drawn, then many would give answer to the call. The Madd Hatter knew himself not to be alone, and for now, he could do nothing. In this form, in this body, and in this world, his powers were for naught. As an individual, he would be but a single needle in the demi-god’s foot.

“Come heroes, come legends, come lovers, come demons. All of you come, and see this, see your fate. Understand what is at stake. I shall join you, Legion, if you raise your fists in defiance. Emerge from your lives and give, for one moment, your power to a collective. Bring down the fire that rides on wings here.”

It was a magnificent speech, but nobody was there to hear it. A silent prayer and whisper to the powers that be, and nothing else. Falling to his knees, hoping and wishing, the Madd Hatter for the first time in his existence here, cried. Ripping his hat off and crimping it between his hands, he watched in horror as the dragon ripped and shredded. Many were dying, many more would die, and the dragon might not.

“Now begins the rule of Sasari Azhere and his loyal subject, Glimmerfang of Blackened Fire!”

[Elrundir]

Elrundir paused after the initial magical onslaught to ponder his options, and much to his chagrin the rest of the bard-mages with him were futilely casting their most powerful songs in an uncoordinated cacophony. There was no harmony, and where there was no harmony, there was no power against a creature of this magnitude. Did they not realize that together they barely put a dent in those golden scales, and therefore alone they might as well have been shooting rubber bands at it? The taint remembered why it had chosen Elrundir Galadhrim among the elves of Eluriand.

The wheels of his mind raced, but they were constantly clogged by the droning voices of the elven defenders. Song after song ripped through the air, each one different than the last. It was like a hundred different people were singing a hundred different songs, and yet no matter how talented each of them is, the final product is disgusting to the ears. Rah! How am I supposed to concentrate with all this noise? the taint thought. It was flustered now, even frightened perhaps, and this brought Elrundir some small measure of amusement. He knew that it was not frightened for his existence, not at all; if his body perished it would simply find another. But he also knew that it wanted this body – Glimmerfang, the lord of dragons and soon, it seemed, of the world. How much more powerful would Glimmerfang become in the right hands – the hands of a force older than any elf rather than those of some piddling human?

If only it were as simple as that. If the taint could simply leap from body to body as it pleased, it would have done so already, and Glimmerfang would be its newest possession. Elrundir would then have his own body back, and he would be well-equipped to slay two birds with one stone by eliminating the possessed dragon. Alas, Glimmerfang’s mind was too strongly fortified. Elrundir had felt it, as anyone with magical tendencies could. The taint would even have trouble infesting its rider, Sasarai, without first weakening him. It was only able to obtain Elrundir’s body in a moment of weakness, after all.

So, to a degree at least, Elrundir’s and the taint’s goals were one and the same, and coincided with the rest of the elves so bravely defending their home from this unprecedented threat. The trick would be for Elrundir to take advantage of the situation when his and the taint’s goals began to diverge. That brief window, when the taint was no longer in his body and not yet in Glimmerfang’s, was the moment he would need to strike.

That, however, was still far in the future. They had yet to deal any serious harm to the mighty dragon and as such they had an arduous journey ahead of them before there would be time to think about the next step. The taint was content to give Elrundir back some free reign over his own body; he turned and faced the singing elves, overpowering their voices with his own.

“Together!” he bellowed coldly in his normal voice, raising his hands to command their attention. He knew that the dragon’s scales were too thick to be pierced physically, so other, more cunning means needed to be employed. “The Concord of Storms!”

There was a moment of silence and preparation, and then the voices of the elves rose up in harsh, quick song. The sky above flashed in response to their melody, and arcs of lightning flared even where no clouds stood to birth them. They began to gather at a point over the top of the mighty Glimmerfang, and slowly, ever slowly, they coalesced.

But the dragon and its rider were not about to risk another magical assault such as the rain of ice spears from before. With a mere fluttering of his wings, Glimmerfang created a gale that scattered the elves and sucked the wind from their lungs. The rapid melody of the Concord of Storms was lost amidst coughing fits, and the energy that they had gathered in the sky was dissipating back into natural entropy.

Elrundir was one of the unlucky few who took the brunt of the gale at his back, and he was thrown forward. Were it not for a quickly-thought burst of telekinesis, he might have found himself flattened against the wall of the university, but he was able to reverse course and land solidly on his feet. The taint was awash in anxiety and excitement, but as this was Elrundir’s first moment of real freedom in ages, he ignored it and thought up a new plan.

[Izvilvin]

Sasarai was beyond elated with his pet's power. As much as he had read, and as much as he'd imagined it earlier, Glimmerfang's sheer force was beyond anything he had expected. A simple bat of his wings scattered the elves, ruining their song. A simple snort of his breath sent piping hot air at whomever was close enough. Each rumbling step shook the entire section of the city, and each step filled Sasarai with a surge of adrenaline.

"That's right!" the wizard screamed aloud, having heard the proclamation of a nearby man who'd screamed his name. "And you will be spared for knowing what this day is!"

He laughed for a few moments as Glimmerfang stalked about, demolishing small structures with his tail and brushing against buildings on a whim. The beast was taking enjoyment in it, and Sasarai could tell.

The power of magic brought the wizard's attention behind him, and no sooner did he turn about in his seat did he see a grand fireball travelling through the air at him. Glimmerfang's tail whipped up just in time to block it, before coming to a rest on the ground once more.

Sasarai sneered. No more than two dozen feet away was Villandil, six wizards on each side of him who were all chanting. The Elf has coordinated them, he sneered, rising to stand on Glimmerfang's back. He, too, began to chant, and when the elves were ready, so was he. Half a dozen blue tendrils came at him, glowing a profound neon blue as they reached forth. Sasarai cast his hands out, a shield spawning to block each and every one of them, reducing them to ash.

"You amuse me, elves, but I grow bored of your silly efforts. Amass your army so I may crush it, moments after my beast brings your arrogant structures down from the sky."

"You speak of arrogance?!" Villandil spat, stepping forward. "You are a prime example! How you came to command such a creature, I don't know, but Eluriand will not allow you to have your way!"

"But you have no choice, fool," Sasarai responded. A mental command got Glimmerfang to turn slowly around, smashing nearby foes without even trying. The wizard sat back in his perch and lifted a hand, sending a disk of white light hurtling at Villandil.

The elven wizard dispelled it before it could reach him, grimacing as the mighty dragon's head came about to face him. It's eyes bore into his soul, ripping him apart simply with its gaze.

The dragon puffed a cloud of smoke from his nostrils, blowing the old wizard onto his behind.

[Elrundir]

Elrundir’s plan needed little thought, as it revealed itself to him some time after Villandil and his legion of wizards appeared to attack Sasarai and Glimmerfang. While their power in itself was meaningless against the might of such a mighty beast, it gave Elrundir and the mages at his side the opening they needed, for indeed Villandil’s attack had distracted the attention of the ancient dragon and its rider. Glimmerfang was making an about-face, focusing its energies entirely on the senior wizard. Elrundir gestured for another song from the choir.

This one started off quiet and quick, sort of a hushed, suspenseful beat that gradually rose to its peak. In all the commotion, the quieter part of the song was barely audible even to Glimmerfang’s trained ears, and by the time it reached a volume that could overbear the howls and laments of Eluriand’s frightened citizens, it was too late. A peal of thunder erupted in the sky, accompanied by a downward bolt of lightning that raced toward Elrundir’s outstretched arm. Even if Glimmerfang noticed the impending assault and turned, Elrundir knew it was too late. The massive beast could not manoeuvre quickly in such a crowded metropolis; though it could simply crush any buildings in its path, even that took time.

So, the bouquet of lightning bolts came to a point near Elrundir’s hand, and from there they arced downward and swooped underneath Glimmerfang’s tail and belly. Rising at last in a sudden spike, the electricity contained within dispersed as it is wont to do, penetrating the dragon’s more vulnerable belly easily enough and coursing through its neurons, macheteing their way with no remorse. There was a howl, and though Elrundir could not say how much damage had truly been dealt, he knew there had been some measure of success there. Their opponent was indeed not invincible. It was a step forward – insignificantly small, perhaps, but so begins every journey.

“Do you not realize how rude it is to turn your back on your host?” the elf inquired, smirking at the dragon and its master. Whatever confidence poured from his voice was, for the most part, a façade. He needed to convey, to drive the point home, that Sasarai and his little pet were not invincible. As long as some small seed of doubt was planted, it would continue to fester and take root. That would be the human’s downfall.

Finally, the lumbering beast turned to face Elrundir and his companions, and it let out a defiant snort of anger. Its master shook his head. “Rude? That’s a matter of opinion – and I’m afraid mine is the only one that matters now.” Glimmerfang was now easily face-to-face with Elrundir, but the elf would not allow himself to waver even slightly. As if defying death itself, he merely quirked an eyebrow at the dragon whose eye was as large as his head.

As soon as Sasarai began to sing, Elrundir loosed a melody of his own. Like all songs dealing with the realm of shadow, this was dark and unpleasant, and it was one that only Elrundir was singing. It was obvious that the other elves, more sensitive than most to music, were not at ease; but the elf knew they would thank him in short order.

Both songs finished at the same time: Sasarai launched another disc of white light at Elrundir and his companions, larger than the last one, but before it connected, their bodies blackened and wavered, taking on the properties of shadows themselves. The white blade did little more than scatter their shadowy forms as they sank into nothingness.

It was a disorienting journey for the other elves, but for Elrundir it was one he had taken far too many times to mention. He kept it brief for their sake, and within moments they were back under the gaze of the sun once more, standing on a building some distance behind the invaders.

“Raiaera seems a little advanced for your level of power,” Elrundir called out to catch the human’s attention, smiling serenely. He was tiring, that was true, but there was no reason to let his opponent know it. “Perhaps Alerar would be more suitable? You might be a match for those barbarians.”

Now it remained to be seen if Sasarai would fall for his insult. And if the mighty Glimmerfang did indeed see fit to level the mighty Valsath d’ Isto, then who would Elrundir be to stand in its way? Icing on the cake, the elf thought, his mind digressing. It was, perhaps, with much irony that he continued: Those Drow egos could stand to be taken down a notch.

[Izvilvin]

Sasarai tried not to show any concern as the lightning bit into Glimmerfang's hard underbelly, but in truth, he wasn't sure whether the dragon was any more resistent to electricity than other creatures. When the spell was done, only the faintest of grunts passed through the dragon's stomach, just barely audible to the wizard. Glimmerfang was fine, but the lightning had hurt him in some small way.

The wizard didn't let it bother him. Rather, he casted his spell to do away with the annoying mage. When it didn't quite work, he sneered but kept his cool. There was no point in letting his emotion get the best of him, not when everything was going the way he'd planned.

With this Elrundir and his bards ahead, and Villandil chanting once again from behind, Sasarai thought his point made. "Perhaps you've read my mind," he muttered, not biting onto Elrundir's insult. He knew the extent of his own power, and was certain it rivaled Villandil's and Elrundir's alike.

A single beat of Glimmerfang's wings carried them into the air, the magnitude of the gust blowing both living and dead elves about. Even the sound was immense. Villandil had to abandon his casting and shield his eyes from strewn pebbles and dirt.

"Brother!" Sasarai called, his grey eyes meeting Alurnes' form atop the roof of Istien University. His voice was augmented by a minor spell he knew, so Alurnes could hear him even over the deafening flaps of Glimmerfang's wings. "An army, I will raise, and I could use the company of family. Give it some thought!"

The dragon rose, his stomach slightly singed from the lightning, and was above the clouds in only a few seconds. Alurnes could hardly believe the speed with which it could move, considering just how large the dragon was.

"Brother," he choked.

Villandil lowered his arms and watched the silhouette of the dragon fade away. He was shaking. The elf could hardly believe he'd witnessed the dragon and his master, and even less so could believe that he was still alive after it. Glimmerfang had an aura about it that struck profound fear into Villandil's heart.

He could hear heavy, quick footsteps approaching from behind him, but Villandil didn't turn to look. Johl Jhaedaes got to his side, followed the wizard's staring eyes to the clouds, and knew Glimmerfang was gone.

"He was driven away? Then we've succeeded. Thank the Gods for the bards of Eluriand!" Johl said, but Villandil was shaking his head after the elf's first few words.

"No, they just left. Off to other places, I suppose."

Villandil's voice was low and quiet. It caused Johl to look at him and frown, somewhat confused. He'd get an accounting of the exact events later, he supposed. He took a quick look about the area, stumbling over debris. There were several dozen dead, a spattered mix of civilians and troops. Some were wounded but were quickly being healed. Istien itself was a mess, with a large crack down the side of the building from Glimmerfang's tail. Johl couldn't see the roof, but half of it was twisted up into the sky like discarded aluminum.

All this had occured in a span of minutes. Whatever the reason the dragon left, Johl wanted to know it, just in case he could exploit it in the future somehow.

[Elrundir]

Sasarai had not faltered beneath the insult, but he was changing course. Elrundir knew the damage had been done. Glimmerfang’s invincibility, and with it, Sasarai’s “supreme authority,” had been called into question. The seed was planted. The petulant infant’s downfall was a calculated guarantee now; the only variable was time. Loath as he was to admit it, the Dark Elves were resourceful; they at least stood some small chance of defending themselves against the mighty dragon and further quivering its master’s confidence.

After Glimmerfang’s speedy departure, Elrundir turned to the bards that had been assisting him, and called down to Johl and Villandil as well, slamming the foot of his mythril staff against the roof of his perch to catch their attention. “Prepare for the next assault,” he commanded with a clear voice and steady hand. Despite his lack of official authority, perhaps his experience, and his relations with the Council, would be enough. “His attention has been diverted, but it appears that it is, as this was, merely a show of power. That impudent child will return. We must be ready.”

“And what of you, Master Galadhrim?” Villandil called up from one of the city’s roads.

Elrundir thought for a moment on what the best course of action would be. Although he had a fleeting desire to watch Sasarai’s path to destruction himself, his only real interest was the well-being of Eluriand and Raiaera. Besides, he still had confidence that he would get to see the human wizard’s downfall with his own eyes – and perhaps bring it about with his own hands. Neither the beasts of Alerar nor the barbarians of Corone would stand much chance against Glimmerfang. It would undoubtedly fall upon the mighty High Elves to be Althanas’ bastion of strength, staunchless and unbreakable in their resolve.

“I will—” But the taint had other plans.

You will proceed to Alerar, the shadow hissed, interrupting his train of thought, and with it, his words.

Elrundir paused, confusing those around him with his apparent indecision. He quirked a brow. I’m afraid that’s not an option right now, he retorted. But perhaps he had forgotten just how little control he truly had.

And I’m afraid your opinion is of little consequence!

Suddenly, the elf’s mind was once again overcome by blackness. His vision was clouded for several seconds, and when it returned, he knew he was once again relegated to a dark corner of his mind, a prison within himself. Elrundir’s eyes became dark, broken only by occasional blue flecks, and when he spoke again, his voice was a tone hoarser. “I will follow the dragon and monitor its progress,” he croaked to his companions. They were already suspicious, but the taint had to allay any further doubt. “I will report back with any significant changes.”

Though Elrundir had no intention of doing so, the words were enough to sanctify the apparent plan. Having sated the curiosity of its host’s compatriots, the taint commanded the elf’s body to sink once again into shadow – alone, this time. And like a leviathan diving beneath the crust of the earth, it once again made its way across the sweeping landscape, this time to Alerar. It would monitor Glimmerfang’s progress from a distance this time. Soon, it knew, the time would be right to strike.

Patience, they say, is a virtue.

ICly Elrundir will be watching from a safe distance, probably from the shadows - quite literally. But don't worry, I'm not going to steal any further posts. ;) It's all yours!

[Izvilvin]

((Awesome, homes!))

If Sasarai had any festering doubts about how much power Glimmerfang's subservience lent him, they were blown away by the deafening winds of the dragon's flight. The wizard was pondering, even as they flew high above the clouds, the best way to deal with that irritating mage back in Raiaera. He had plenty of time, so Sasarai didn't dwell on it for long.

The wind whipped about him, pushing hard as the dragon cut through the air like a knife. Sasarai's knuckles were white, his fingers bent around a single golden scale on the dragon's neck, which did not budge except for when Glimmerfang wanted his neck to move.

"We make for Ettermire," the wizard said, his voice made louder by a cantrip. "We can make our point in Alerar before the night falls."

Glimmerfang didn't respond, but he'd heard.

*****

Alurnes waited some time before he tried to make his way down from the ruined roof of Istien University. His grey eyes were turned upward at the sky for a long time, and they remained there long after Glimmerfang's image had disappeared. His brother had changed, had become something inhuman. What fool man could think he could dominate the world? Althanas had too many males of virtue to allow an emperor to take over.

Sasarai's goal was a foolish one, and he would meet his end having followed it. Alurnes regretted not watching over his little brother and guiding him better, but after the death of their parents, the young mage had not wanted a thing to do with his older sibling. It had been years since they'd spoken.

Now Sasarai commanded an ancient dragon, one Alurnes had read much about in his days in Istien University. Glimmerfang was a legend among legends, a beast that defied Gods and crushed countries. Alurnes feared his brother more than he feared death.

A simple spell made him light, and the stringy wizard climbed down the side of the battered building, his feet meeting crumbled stones and broken asphalt. Villandil was waiting for him, having spotted the human as he made his way down.

"You bear a striking resemblence," Villandil said evenly, and Alurnes knew what he meant.

"The dragon rider is my brother. I had not seen him in years." His eyes were downcast, but his voice was honest. Alurnes was going to need more than just a few moments to come to terms with what he'd just witnessed.

Villandil nodded. Behind him, the central area of the city was in shambles. The ground was broken, left a series of large granite plates by Glimmerfang's heavy limbs. Alurnes could still hardly believe what had happened.

"May we palaver for a time?" Villandil asked, though Alurnes knew he'd have to. He nodded.

[Izvilvin]

The dragon’s speed was truly frightening, but Sasarai was growing used to it. They cut through the air like missiles, diving down toward the Aleranian capital. In the darkness of Ettermire, the dragon swerved nimbly between tall spires of black stone, casting a black shadow over the shocked citizens below.

Glimmerfang passed the industrial sector and came to Valshath d' Isto, the ebony palace of the Alerar hierarchy. Tilting its golden wings to soar upward, to the very top of the structure, Glimmerfang hardly reacted to the barrage of icy projectiles that came his way from the defenses. With agility remarkable for a creature so large, the dragon turned and landed delicately on the highest roof of the palace, a frightening beacon looking over all of Ettermire.

Sasarai rose, a chilling wind setting his blue hair and robe to dance. Standing on the nape of the dragon’s neck, the wizard lifted his hands to his temples and concentrated, sending his thoughts out to the whole of Ettermire.

“People of Ettermire, the time to lay down your arms against the elves has come. Under the rule of Sasarai Azhere, you are all equal. To refuse my rule is to bring destruction and death upon your land. I’m sure you’ll need convincing beyond just words, so behold this example.”

Levitating easily, Sasarai came to rest on the dragon’s head, two feet from an eye that was bigger than he was. Pointing to a tower off in the distance, the wizard made a cutting motion. An ear-splitting sound rang in the air, and the top half of the tower slowly began to slide from the bottom half, breaking off and tumbling down to the city below. He made the same motion with several other structures, a maniacal smile growing wider with each.

Soon most of the buildings in the area had been cut in half, lying in wreckage on the ground of Ettermire. It wasn’t enough, though, Sasarai decided, so he pulled a scroll from deep within his robe. Holding up a hand to guide the spell, the wizard read the cryptic words as quickly as he could, summoning a red portal just above the highest steeple of Valshath d' Isto. Screams of anguish escaped from within, seconds before the first of a hundred demons revealed themselves. With wings of black, leathery flesh, the massive creatures took one look at the city and knew it was time to play.

Once again, the wizard put his fingers to his head. “Just a sampling, dark elves. Please me and this will not need to happen again!”

When his casting was done, an exhausted Sasarai turned and made his way back to the dragon’s neck. Glimmerfang pumped his wings once and was in the sky once more.

“I need rest, dragon. Take us to a warm place where we can both sleep. Tomorrow will be the biggest day of them all for me.”

With the screams of the demons fading to the distance, Sasarai held tight and considered where things were going.