Friday, February 28, 2014

The Living Stone, Chapter 8.01 - The Dragon and The Devil

Well, instead of making you wait for full chapters, I decided that I will post sections as they are completed, up to three times a week. This gives me time to work on Twinsoul Part 2 as well.  Thanks for being patient, I hope you enjoy!

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Rage. Twisting, frothing, rending, scarring, vulcanizing rage was the only thing keeping Vengaralix alive. It pounded in his chest, keeping blood flowing to his broken limbs and wings. It burned the fog away from his bleeding eyes, searing red permanently into his vision. It roared in his mind so fiercely that it drowned out the echoes of pain.

Somehow, after crashing down off the mountains, he managed to drag himself into a crevice to keep safe. Days later, he had stopped bleeding but his ability to move was no more improved. Unable to change his fate, his mind had begun to distort. Death had spared his body, but left his mind ripe for madness.

Only one word remained coherent throughout his torment: kra. The nothing had done this, beyond all reason. The mere thought festered like a virulent rot in his mind, disintegrating his grip on reality.

So when a man stood in front of him as he faded in and out of consciousness, he took it as a hallucination. The reality of the man was made clear by the heel of his boot coming to rest between the dragon's eyes. Vengaralix growled and tried to bite at the offender, barely managing to snap his jaws defiantly.

The man scoffed. "Still alive, then. Not bad, for someone pitiful enough to be pushed of a cliff by nothing."

The gurgling in Vengaralix's throat was supposed to be a roar.

Now the impudent man laughed. "You're right to be angry, it wasn't very fair, was it? You are strong for your kind, in this age where your power wanes. The nothing should have never stood a chance. Why was he able to strike you down?"

"Goblin," Vengaralix hissed.

"No." The man's yellow eyes glinted from beneath long dark hair. "That was a lucky shot and you know it. The goblin was insignificant. The kra has power, power that his people cursed him for, just because he was different. He's better than you, even better because your people cursed him."

"Wrong ..."

"What's that?" the man put a hand to his ear. "Could you speak up?"

"Living stone are usurpers of what little magic remains," the dragon hissed out, somehow finding the ability to speak returned to him. "The world dies more with each curse that falls on us. They must return to stone or the world can never recover."

"So true," the man nodded. "But power is power. It's what made him strong and you weak, why he won, and you ..." he leaned in dangerously close. "...lost."

"He will die." Vengaralix managed to raise his head shakily, declaring his intent with as much strength as he could muster.

The man's grin was cruelly comforting. "I'm glad you feel that way." He swept down in a low bow. "Many call me the Forerunner. I have a vested interest in seeing this particular nothing made even more nonexistant. You and I seem to have common ground in that regard."

The dragon narrowed his eyes.

"If you want, I can lead you to incredible power, surpassing even the most powerful Kra."

"My people would never allow it," the crippled dragon said.

"What matters more, Vengaralix? Your kind's aversion to personal power, or putting that wretch in his place?"

"He will die!"

The cruelty in the man's grin gave way to maddening glee. He gestured a black gloved hand for Vengaralix to rise. Compelled to try and stand, the dragon found suddenly that his body was whole once more, rising elegantly off the ground, and out of the tiny crack he was hiding.

"It's time you met some friends of mine, Vengaralix. They will show you all you need to make the kra regret resisting his curse."

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