The Kingdom of Sagely - Legacy of a Dragoness
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It was clear the Mother Goddess had other plans. Much better plans. As always. She reached the final corridor that would lead her to one of the many landing areas for the multitude of dragons that came and went from the castle daily. This corridor had arched windows every few feet that looked out over the city far below. The sun shone bright inside at this time of day. It was a lovely place www. Knights often paused here to settle their packs on their backs when they came in from patrol or a longer journey.
Shanya was about halfway down the corridor when she felt the distinct lightheadedness that usually prefaced a strong vision. She stumbled for the closest seat but was too far away to make it before the vision hit her full force. When she would have fallen to the stone floor, a pair of strong arms came around her, catching her as she swooned. That was all she knew until the vision released her some minutes later. Her eyes blinked twice, able to see the real world once more—no longer seeing the future possibilities. She was confused as the faces above her came into focus.
Prince Darius stood close, concern on his handsome face. He let her go as she caught her breath. The vision came upon me suddenly. It was very strong. I would have fallen had you not caught me, Prince Connor. I thank you. I just need to catch my breath and get my bearings. This was a strong portent of the future I have seen before.
It is even more solid now. You will go far. Both of you. There is very little magic, but what is there is potent. You must find it, and the one who waits. The weapons you retrieve will be vital to the defense of the Citadel, the place of power where the wizards imprisoned their enemies in ice many centuries ago. If we are to maintain the integrity of that prison, and return life to a dying breed, you will need this foreign magic.
It is your task to perform. No other may follow your path. It was clear they were skeptical of her words. They would come to see she was right in the fullness of time. She only hoped they would remember her instructions and seek the magic when they found themselves on their journey. The gryphons would take care of her, they well knew. She seemed very sure of herself. For all we know, Rol or Nico could tell us to pack our bags tonight and head out to some foreign land.
Honestly, I doubt it.
Nothing exciting ever happens to us. All we do is watch over the youngsters and fly patrols. Not old enough to rule over lands or spies, not young enough to need a keeper. I am heartily sick of flying boring patrols over the capital region. I want to stretch my wings and go someplace more exciting. Be careful what you wish for, brother. Days later, they were flying to the Northern Lair, as scheduled, when a freak storm came upon them.
The sky burned black and green, a roiling mass of clouds and electricity. The two black dragons powered through the gusts that threatened to down them. Their task was clear, their mission imperative. They had to make it through the storm to their destination.
Turning back was no longer an option. They were too far into the storm. The elder of the two—by minutes only—cried out as a jolt of electricity rode up his left leg and through his entire body. His brother came to his aid immediately, only to be hit by the same bolt of lightning, traveling from the cloud, through the first black dragon, arcing into the second and back to into the angry black and green clouds. Time ceased to exist as the two dragons were tossed into a vortex and spun.
Sky became earth, and earth became sky. Over and over they tumbled, each certain the hard landing to come might be their very last. Their massive wings beat franticly, trying to regain some equilibrium, but neither of the two dragons could discern what was up and what was down as they were pulled and stretched by currents greater than even their own immense strength.
One wing was badly damaged, bloodied and torn undoubtedly from his trip through the leafy canopy. He craned his long black neck to seek a similar pattern.
His brother had to be nearby somewhere, but the trees here were too dense to navigate in his bulky dragon form. Marshalling his strength, he changed from dragon to human, willing his clothing back from wherever it went when he changed. While some of his injuries improved in the magical transition, his left arm was still a mess. Nothing broken, thank goodness. Only a long, shallow gash graced his arm from shoulder to elbow.
He looked around, trying to get his bearings. Nothing looked familiar. Nothing at all. This pine forest was familiar, yet not. It looked different, sounded different and even smelled different. He also scented something that immediately raised the short hairs on the back of his neck.
The air reeked of the residual scent of massive and powerful magic.
Connor was in better shape than Darius, with no visible injuries. The trees really were too dense to allow grown dragons to walk Dragon Storm comfortably among them. He shifted form and appeared once again human, wearing black leather leggings, boots and a vest laced up over his solid muscles, just like his brother. So, what is our strategy? Perhaps we can find help there— or at least someone to tell us where in the hells we are.
He felt it as well. It burned like fire. Not the good, cleansing sort of dragon fire.