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A
juvenile Silver/Amethyst Dragon, checking out a trio of humans
that came close to his father's den, saw a wondrous item appear
seemingly out of nowhere before his eyes about 100 yards before
him, and about 200 from the intruders.
/I _should_ tell my dad of these three,/ he thought to himself,
/but that object may need protecting from them./
The
object spins in the air all on its own for a couple of seconds,
then falls onto the ground. Amethyst Dragon comes closer and,
after carefully prodding the thing with a stick, picks it
up with great curiosity and turns it around in his hand. It's
a smooth, fist-sized orb of a greenish hue, warm to the touch,
with a deep crack running right through the centre. After
holding it for a while, young Dragon feels as if the orb is
pulsating in his hand like a warm beating heart.
He
looks at it transfixed, until he suddenly remembers about
the three humans that are now just behind the tall shrubs
a few metres away. He can hear them, too, and they do not
sound at all dragon-friendly. Indeed, they behave just like
a bunch of dragon-hunters father often told him about, so,
pocketing the mysterious orb, he tiptoes back into the family
cave.
"Father,
there are three human men out there! I think they've got Dragon
Poison with them!"
"Do
they now?" replies the elder dragon, rising from his favorite
reading couch. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to use any
more of my spells so soon."
The
elder Dragon, like his son, is a Silver/Amethyst Dragon; however,
unlike his son, Argent was able to cast some of the highest
spells known in the universe (what they know of it that is)
using only his mind. It wore him out almost constantly when
intruders came nearby, but the necessity for security in those
mountains was paramount!
"Dad,"
Amthet continued, "I found something near the lookout spot
that I think you should see..." pulling it out from behind
his back, Amthet and Argent both stood in awe at the cracked
Orb, not knowing what it was.
"Anyway,
let's deal with those no-good humans first," grumbles Argent,
then sighs. "Why can't they just leave us alone?"
He
closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. With his inner sight,
he visualises a mantra so complicated it would shatter any
lesser mind, then he directs the generated energy towards
the ominous trio that are treading warily towards the main
cave entrance. All of a sudden, a silver cloud envelops them,
and before anyone can even gasp it whisks the would-be dragon
slayers to the other side of the world, straight into the
middle of a vast marshland.
"Nobody
can say I don't give people chances," says Argent with satisfaction.
"Now, let me look at that strange sphere again, son."
The
younger Dragon hands the object to Argent, and he begins to
examine it closely. As he does, a brief history of what has
transpired over the last 100 Millennia of its history, including
just passed events, washes over him like a flash flood of
knowledge. Stunned, Argent releases his hold on the Dragon
Orb, and Amthet barely catches it in time to hear him say:
"Four
will come to protect this orb from a great evil that is to
come.."
"A
great evil, papa?" Amthet asked out of curiousity, "What great
evil?"
"A
Dark Lord comes with the most foul of Queens at his side...
(Not that Brittanian story again! muttered the young dragon
angrily.) The Triad that was here was only the first of many
underlings that may try to find what you hold."
After
the prophecy was spoken, Amthet's father collapsed on the
floor, exhausted after his ordeal.
/Who'd
have thought that the Brittanian story would become real here?/
Amethyst thought excitedly to himself. /But taking care of
Dad takes first priority./
After
Argent was brought back to his senses, he got on the couch
with his son's help and stared blankly again at the Dragon
Orb sitting on a low desk in front of him.
"So
what are going to do, Dad?" ventured Amthet, but his father
waved impatiently at him: "Shush, son, I'm trying to think."
"So,"
he continued his thoughts, "A lost Dragon Stone of Casthellea
finally escaped its prison! But who sent those three wretched
hunters? I don't believe for a second that any self-respecting
Dark Lord or Queen would rely on pathetic feeble humans to
try and retrieve this most prized possession. And from what
I could gather neither Queen nor the four protectors know
of the Orb's whereabouts yet. No, some much lesser creature
has a hand in all this... somebody with a profitable trade
in mind, perhaps?" Argent smiles a grim smile as he realises
that the person in question may well be known to him.
***
Far
away, but same planet...
Three
objects fall unceremoniously through the roof of someone's
house.
"Now
do you believe me about the Silver Guardian?" the youngest
of the three said, rubbing his back.
"Yeah,
Leon," replied the others as one, also massaging their backs,
"Now lay off it awhile will ya?"
Looking
up, one of the elder hunters saw the hole in the roof and
gasped.
"What
are you looking at, Stephen?" asked another, then getting
a good look himself, "Gripes! If the Master saw that!"
"'If
the Master saw that!' what, Justin?" asked a sinister voice
from behind the trio. "Ah, the hole in the roof."
"Sir,"
Leon began, "the Silver Guardian caught us and... Please forgive
us!"
/Silver
Guardian now eh, Argent?/
"Was
there anything else to report, before I punish you?"
Stephen
took up that challenge by saying, "We saw, briefly, a green
orb hovering about a couple meters from our position before.."
"Yes?"
"Before
a little dragon took it away and we flew here!" Justin finished
quickly, covering his head.
But
nothing happened. Nothing that is, except hysterical, happy
laughter coming from their master. "You idiots have done the
first thing right since you have come into my service!" He
rewarded them with treats of every variety, and left them
to wonder what they did right.
***
Back
on Casthellea...
The
Great Siberian Cousins and their companions were resting after
a game of Dodge Energy Ball, when Jacrose heard a strange
voice.
/The
time has come for you to find me... Although I may be far
away... Your Cousin may safely "thread" you... to
the Weyr of where I stay.../
/W..what?/
Jacrose asked, both out loud and in thought.
/Hurry!/
the plea continued, /my current protectors need assistance./
Quickly
waking from his nap, Jacrose morphs into Coldmist and begins
to wake everyone up.
"Whatisit,
Cousin?"
"Yeah
what's the deal with waking me up, Coldmist?"
"Patience,"
Altheus said with a yawn, "let him explain him self. Coldmist,
if you please."
"The
Dragon's Orb called to me, saying that it needs our help."
Nearly
everyone started to laugh at him at this point. "You don't
seriously believe that -the- Dragon Orb spoke to you, Coldmist?"
"Daria
may "thread" us to it so we may help its current
protectors..." he, Coldmist, continued despite the laughter.
Altheus
doesn't laugh, but looks thoughtfully at Jacrose, then at
Daria. "I think that perhaps Coldmist's mind isn't playing
tricks with him after all," he says, interrupting the hilarity.
"Altheus,
are you seriously suggesting I try to locate the Dragon Orb?"
says Daria incredulously as her face gets slightly drawn of
colour. "If so, it's sheer madness! The Spirits told me that
the Orb would shatter my mind and grind it to dust if I try
and pull its thread!"
"Coldmist's
mind would have crumbled if the Orb tried to communicate with
him, but your cousin still sounds remarkably sane if overexcited,"
replied the Guide. "I'm thinking of that explosion and what
it might have done to the Dragon Orb. If it suffered a great
damage and lost a part of its true power, then it could have
contacted mortal minds of the Dragons without causing destruction.
It has done so in the past."
/There's
still another possibility,/ says the Spirit, /the Orb has
gone down the drains and this is just a trap set out for you
by your enemies./
"True,"
sighs the Guide, "but I think the risk is worth it. However,
in case that every single of my assumptions is wrong, Daria,
withdraw your magic at the slightest sign of danger."
The
girl gives him a grim crooked smile, then sets out to work.
***
Back
at the Argent's cavern on the unknown world...
"So
who is this Firesting, Dad?" asks Amthet, looking nervous.
"Only
the biggest slimiest scumbag of a second-rate magician that
I had a misfortune to know, son," says Argent wearily. "He's
basically a scavenger with an unlimited ego and a limited
gift of future-sight. He uses it to sniff and poke around
in hope to put his hands on something valuable that he can
trade or sell. I just hope he doesn't know the full value
of this Orb..."
***
In
the Lair of Firesting...
/What news do you bring to us, minion?/ asks a sinister masculine
voice.
"My
servants have found the orb that we seek, my Lord; however..."
Firesting gulps. "However my long-time foe, Argent, and his
son currently have it." Cowering he awaits the reply of his
masters.
/Rise,
Commander Firesting,/ a sinister feminine voice replies. /You
now have control over more powerful minions than the three
mercenaries below./
"M...my
Lady?"
/GO!/
ordered the Dark Lord. /Retrieve the Dragon Orb from your
nemesis by any means possible and bring it back here!/
"As
you wish, My Lord!" Firesting bowed, and left to rejoin his
minions below.
/Soon
we will be able to walk amongst them, my love, and show them
our true power!/
/This
world will be the first to go, then Britannia! MWAHAHA!/
***
Meanwhile..
Daria tried to focus on the Dragon Orb's thread...
"I
found it!" she shouted to the others, "but it may be a good
idea to hold hands!"
/Just
link all of our threads to its thread, Daria,/ the Spirit
suggested. /We will hold hands anyway./
Everyone
held on to a hand, Coldmist, now Jacrose, making sure he held
on to Daria's.
"Everybody
ready?" Atheus asked the companions. With a nod as a response
from each, Daria "threaded" them to the Weyr of
Argent and Amethyst.
***
Firesting
the Magician's stomach feels knotted as he looks sideways
at the four dark figures that flank him on each side, with
an outward respect that doesn't fool him one bit. For the
umpteenth time he wonders whether it was a good idea to get
involved with... those two. Sure, "Commander Firesting" had
a very pleasant ring to it, but sometimes he longed for the
times when he was just a freelance magician unbound by servitude
to the terrifying masters that probably wouldn't take kindly
to a resignation. And that woman's laugh! It could drive a
man insane!
/Oh
well, better make the best of it, Commander Firesting,/ he
thought to himself as the three shapes sped towards the Perilous
Mountains.
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