Rthyin - The Elder Dragon
The thought tore through the dragons’ consciousness with the clarity of a lightening bolt across a blackened sky. A dragons memory is for eternity and there was no mistaking the memory of the final battle fought, the pain of her enemies weapon as it buried itself between two plates of armoured scales in the small of her back. The foe had been underestimated and she had paid a terrible price, only the ability to fly had saved her life. She could still remember stretching her massive wings and thrusting for the sky, the dust storm created by the motion being enough to deflect what should have been a killing blow. Even then the hero had pursued her across the sands and her blood had given him an easy trail to follow for everything touched by it shrivelled and died as she sought to escape.
Falling.It had been her only hope for refuge, the volcano in the midst of the desert, an oasis about its edges, deep in the wastes where few ever dared to venture. She had crashed into the side of the Volcano and, with her last strength, dragged herself up the final climb before toppling slowly, like some broken thing, into the fiery abyss. The fire had saved her life, scorching her wounds closed but she had been to weak to do anything more than sink into the molten lava that welcomed and closed over her like a great blanket. Any other creature would have been incinerated but not she, not the Elder Dragon, not one born of the same fire. Instead it hid her, closed about her, protected her, and she had lost consciousness, she had lost much blood.
Consciousness. She was acutely aware that she was not dreaming anymore. The speed of her thoughts had slowed and she could not move, in her dreams she could do what she liked but now she could not even flex her talons. The lava that had welcomed her so long ago had cooled and hardened around her. The volcano had died, giving its own life so that she might live. She felt strong, hungry, but strong. She knew now that her wounds had healed, a dragons sleep is meant for little else than to heal, but how bad had her wounds been, how long had she slept to feel so complete again?
Humans.This thought came swiftly as she detected the slightest sound coming from above, the "chink" and "thud" of someone fighting above her. Who were they? How could they know she was near, if the Volcano had cooled around her she was certain several thousand years, maybe tens of thousands of years, had passed since she collapsed into its healing embrace. Without trying she knew she could not move her heard for a better angle to listen, she was encased in hardened lava after all.
Information.She reached out through the lava piled deep above her, tenderly touching the magical currents that she could feel surging throughout the land. It was stronger than she remembered. Interesting. It took her a moment to focus on the source of the humans above her but she had no trouble tapping into one of their thoughts so gently that he would not even know it was happening.
Pain and anger, the humans mind was swirling with them. He was fighting someone else, someone bigger than he, and he was loosing ground. It was clear as she delved deeper that they were fighting to become champions, but champions of what. She entered into his memories, searching for answers. When she found what she was looking for, it was not was she expected. The humans were fighting in her honour, the honour to call themselves champions, champions of the Great Fire, a tournament to honour her, a tournament that had been waged for 50,000 years.
His thoughts exploded into her consciousness and she felt a jolt of surprise ripple through her. 50,000 years. She had been asleep for 50,000 years. That was a considerable time for any dragon to sleep, even a wounded one. She had never slept that long before, certainly not in her memory, which carried back to creation itself. And they were planning to mine her corpse if they found it. Humans, such an industrious and idiotic species. She withdrew from the humans mind and focused back on her current state.
All this had taken the same amount of time it took the man above to swing his sword twice, roughly six seconds of human time. To a Dragon it was time enough to make a decision on what to do next.
I will fly again.She opened herself to the magic around her and felt herself grow stronger still as it coursed through her. For anyone who has fought even a small dragon they would know of their magical abilities but, she was Rythin, the Fireheart, the Elder Dragon, and she was greater than them all.
She flexed her talons now and felt the lava crumble at their touch. She blinked and the lava about her eyes turned to dust. Her legs were beneath her and she flexed her muscles, gingerly testing for any wounds that had failed to heal but all seemed well. She would live again. She thrust upwards.
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The two Champions who fought on the sands of the arena never knew that the Dragon they fought to honour had returned, they died instantly as the ground below them exploded into fire and smoke. For the fifty thousand spectators, the entirety of every desert tribe within five hundred kilometres, it was a sight they would never forget.
The Great Arena, built within the long extinct Volcano, had seats set all up the sides, carved from the hardened lava. A great set of stairs opened into the crater from one side, guarded by great statues of desert heroes long past. Here, on a floor of fine desert sand, every year for fifty thousand years, the tribes had gathered and each had produced a champion. The winner would be crowned Dragonheart and given his or her pick of the breeding slaves as well as a champions purse contributed to by every tribe. Usually this meant camels, horses, cows, and the like, material wealth that would keep a champion in great comfort for a lifetime.
Those same spectators, gathered to witness this years fight, a grand spectacle for the fifty thousandth anniversary of the fights, now came to their feet as a giant wave, disbelief crying out from their throats as the middle of the stadium vanished into nothing. Some feared, at first, that the Volcano had awoken but then the screams of terror began as
Her head appeared and the Elder Dragon heaved herself onto the sands of the arena.
Black scales glittered and gleamed in the noonday sun as she stretched her massive wings, so vast that they reached from one side of the arena to the other. She craned her neck high, feeling the tension of fifty thousand years leaving her muscles. And then she roared, it had been to long since she heard her own voice. The earth shook beneath her and her long tail swept the surface of the arena, its barbed menace only made more terrifying for the great spike that formed the end of her tail. Fifty thousand voices fell silent as she challenged the sky with her own call. The Dragon Terror was upon them, they were frozen in their place. All but one.
She stepped into the arena, her step so gentle that it barely registered on the sandy surface. Blonde hair swirled about her face from the wind that now howled throughout the arena. She could feel the magic too, the currents that had been so steady here for generations were now snapping and almost popping as they seemed to surge towards the great beast that now towered above her.
The yellow dress that marked her as a Priestess of the Great Fire was billowing and shreding about her legs as she walked forward. The sand had become like so many small missiles, tearing at her clothes but not marking her skin. She opened her arms, completely unafraid for she, of all the people who had come to this scared place, had known that the Dragon had awoken beneath them. She had no connection with the great creature itself but she could feel the magic of this place bend and warp as something more powerful than she could possibly understand had suddenly come into contact with it again.
"Welcome Elder Dragon." Her voice was quiet, so quiet she barely heard it herself but the intensity of the Dragons gaze told her that she had been heard. For a moment it thrilled her to think that she might be consumed by fire but it did not come.
Who are you? The Dragons voice exploded in her head with such force it brought her to her knees.
"I am Celeanda, Priestess of the Great Fire. We have been praying for your return." She muttered, or thought she muttered, as the Dragons will beat upon her.
[i]Who do you serve?"[i]
"You." She tried to whisper though she could not say the word but the Dragon knew. The power that had been bent upon her suddenly released and it took all of her strength and stand again. The Dragon watched her as she moved, the huge eyes never blinking. No one in the stadium moved.
You are strong. Said the Dragon as it took a step closer to her, its huge head lowering towards her. The eyes and mouth were red like molten fire, the black scales about its face shimmering and shifting with every movement.
"I have spent many years channelling the magic that surround this place, I have much to learn." Celeanda found herself able to speak again and she drew herself up to her full height again.
These people. They are your kin?""No, they are the gathered tribes of the desert. I serve only you. My sisters do as well."
Sisters?"Yes, we have a temple here. We have long worshipped you and worked the magic bound to this place by your death."
But I am not dead. I live.The Dragons rage beat down upon her again and it took every ounce of her being to not collapse again.
"We thought you dead but we have protected this place. Only the Sisters truly believe."
Then these others are fools. I will show you much and you will serve me.Celeanda could only nod as she sank slowly into the sand at her feet, the Dragons will was slowly crushing her and she felt as though her body was about to explode. Then, as before, the pressure was suddenly released as the Dragon drew itself up to its full height.
Witness my return.Fifty thousand people stood motionless in the stands of the stadium, frozen with fear. The Dragon consumed them all. All but the Sisters.
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