Aku

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It was the kind of darkness one could almost feel. To a lesser being, it might’ve felt choking, smothering, but to Aku it was as soft and comfortable as satin sheets, and he glided through it without fear. His pale eyes were fixed on the ceremony taking place ahead.

A newcomer, a Pearlcatcher. She crouched before a Skydancer who blended in with the shadows. The Skydancer spread her claws, then her wings...and as she did, extra limbs extended along her sides. They reached for the supplicant, beckoning her closer.

Aku clearly felt the moment the Lightweaver’s divine connection was cut. It had previously tied her to the Pearlcatcher—but the mortal dragon had turned her back upon the deity, choosing to serve Shadow instead. Median, herself previously a servant of Light, had only been too willing to help. She snapped the thread that had been woven by the Lightweaver, and now the Pearlcatcher was Shadow’s to command.

Nothing changed—outwardly, anyway. But with his supernatural sight, Aku saw the darkening of her golden eyes, the cloudy sheen that crawled across her pearl. Deep within her, something was lost....That empty space would need to be filled soon, by a connection to another deity, perhaps. Or it could grow and grow until it consumed her...Aku had to say that he preferred the latter option.

“The Darkening is complete. Welcome the Shadow into your soul,” Median pronounced. The Pearlcatcher bowed one last time, and then she turned to leave the chamber. She did not see Aku, who was tucked into the shadows of the ceiling, crawling across the stone like a vast, twisted lizard.

Median was about to follow, but then she paused. The orb upon her brow contracted...and then it blinked. “I know you’re there,” she hissed. “You’re here to annoy me again, Aku?”

“Now, Median, ‘annoy’ is such a strong word.” Aku’s voice creaked tauntingly through the shadows. As Median watched through her many eyes, the darkness in the ceiling shifted, and a portion of it flowed away and then down a wall. When Aku finally stepped into the candlelight, it was in the shape of a short, squat kitsune with ebony fur. His generous whiskers gave him the appearance of a kindly grandfather—but his eyes still glittered with malice.

“The Darkening is over. There are no more supplicants for today. Take your bag of tricks and go home.” And Median snuffed out all the candles with a single vast beat of her wings. Her eyes shone yellow in the darkness as she strode grumpily onwards. Aku kept pace with her, flitting or slithering or flowing, never maintaining the same shape for long. It gave the Darkener a terrible headache (though she would never admit it out loud).

“Come now, Median, you despise the gods as much as I do. Share the tools of the Darkening with me. Let me borrow a bit of your awesome power.”

And Median whirled on him, her jaws parting to reveal serrated teeth. She snapped, “Incorrect; I am an instrument of the Shadowbinder, guiding those who seek her divine wisdom. The Darkening is not a plaything or a gimmick for a godless shapeshifter like you. Leave me be.” And, despite that last sentence, it was Median who went, her golden wings launching her through the branches, away from Aku’s taunts.

Aku’s chuckle was echoed by a deeper laugh rumbling up from the ground. As the shapeshifter turned, he noticed how the forest had grown quiet, how the nearby trees were being swallowed up by a surging mass of blackness. The mass paused before him, and as it did, it ran through many different shapes, each one more horrifying than the last. They would have twisted an observer’s mind within minutes, but Aku was immune, and he broke into a big, fanged smile.

“Well, if it isn’t my old friend, the Crawling Chaos! Have you come to aid me in my schemes, Nyarlathotep?”

“Aid you? What a presumptuous idea. I am here merely to observe, Aku. Your plots against the Eleven intrigue me.” The darkness stilled, and the shape consolidated itself into an enormous Guardian, his hide and wings spangled with stars. He stared down at Aku with eyes that glittered in a thousand impossible colors.

Aku bared his fangs, in a grimace this time. “With our cunning, we could cast the deities down, take control of this planet. Our chaos would be law.” But even as he spoke, his mind was whirring, examining plan after fiendish plan.

He remembered the Pearlcatcher who’d undergone the Darkening. Median had removed the Lightweaver’s foul influence from her soul, leaving a gaping void...

“The soul. Evil from outside is easily erased, but one that starts within has time to take root, to grow strong. That’s where the greatest evil starts.” Aku’s form began to contort as his next scheme took shape. “It starts in the soul.”

~ ~ ~
The Southern Icefield was gripped in a hard, cold winter. The sun went unseen for months at a time, and the dragons that remained here didn’t live so much as struggle, moving from one bitterly cold day to the next.

They were wary of outsiders, but there were those who were greeted more cordially, particularly if they had something the Icefielders needed. So when a skinny old Longneck came through one clan’s territory, the dragons converged, more curious than threatening.

The old Longneck held up his hooves. “Please! I am a traveling peddler, only passing through. My assistants have abandoned me and I am trying to get back to the coast....Won’t you spare me some food? Perhaps purchase some of my wares, that I may make my living?”

As he spoke that last sentence, he unlatched the side of his cart. It flipped down, revealing shelves lined with covered jugs. They must have been kept warm with magic, for steam wafted from them, smelling of sweet herbs and spices. The dragons craned forward eagerly.

“It does my old heart good to see your interest! Form a line, everybody, there’s enough for all of you, I promise.” The Longneck chuckled creakily, and beneath his whiskers, his fangs gleamed like knives. His potions sold well—he returned change in handfuls of strange green gems, which the dragons were only too eager to pocket—and then he went on his merry way.

It took some time for the potions’ effects to manifest. Well, they did warm the dragons’ bodies nicely, but that wasn’t all. A different sort of heat flared up in their minds, their souls. The world seemed to become tinged with red....

“Where’s my bag of gems?” the Wildclaw lady growled. She looked around her den; she didn’t see the bag, but she did see her brother sleeping soundly atop a pile of hides. Perhaps too soundly. Her eyes narrowed, and she strode over and gave him a vicious kick.

He awoke with a yelp. “What’s the matter with you?!”

“The gems, the one the old peddler gave away as change.” She sneered down her snout at him. “He was too old and addled to realize how valuable they were. Raw jade...Give them to me. I’ll sell those in the coastal towns and I’ll be set for life. Give them back!”

“I haven’t got your crummy gems! You’re as addlepated as that ungulate—”

All over the clan, little disagreements were flaring up. The dragons were used to greater hardships; these should not have caused them to complain. But they were feeling so warm, so...unruly. It felt right to pick a fight. Each one thought, “I’ve worked so hard in this clan! What’s in it for me? Surely I deserve more!”

“Help me out of here!” the Snapper gasped. He stood, frozen in fear, in the middle of an icy lake. He’d gone out to check the lines he’d baited, and the ice had cracked beneath him. One wrong step and he would tip into the icy water....He’d expected his partner to bail him out, but the Ridgeback remained firmly planted upon the shore, watching with fierce eyes.

“It’s your own darn fault; you know you’re too dense to walk on the ice!”

“I’ve been fishing at this lake for the past twenty years! The air’s been a little warm recently—”

“What’s in it for me?”

“What?” The Snapper’s head jerked up in alarm. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“What’s - in - it - for - me?” the Ridgeback growled. He sprawled upon the snow, his tail lashing in agitation, and he put on an ostensibly bored expression and began examining his claws. “You know, I’m the one who prepares your nets and sets your lines. Got to do it, since you haven’t got any talons. I think I’m tired of working with you. What say I get a new partner? It’s no big loss if we let you go, hey, hey...?”

“You ungrateful snake!” snarled the Snapper. In spite of himself, he felt a rush of heat flow through him; he had the urge to hurl himself upon his clanmate, fasten his jaws around that skinny neck....

“Hey, watch it!” the Coatl snapped. He couldn’t help it; the words just came out. Normally he would’ve turned and helped the cook clean up the mess, but he didn’t feel like it, just not today....

“What did you say?” The Imperial’s eyes narrowed. She lowered her vast head, snaking it around so that she was eye-to-eye with the Coatl. The bowls of stew he’d jostled lay forgotten on the floor.

A part of him yelled, “It’s madness! She’ll demolish you; she’s a hundred times your size!” But another part of him, an alien part burning in his heart like a hot coal, whispered, “Indeed, it’s madness. Such beautiful, beautiful madness...”

“You owe me an apology,” he hissed, and sigils of pink light appeared around his claws as he summoned his own magic. “Apologize to me. Now!”

The little deeds of civility and kindness that kept the clan together were all forgotten or cast aside. Life here was hard; it was so easy to give in to the pressures of that hardship, to take what one wanted and to demand more. Slowly, the clan began to fray from within. Madness taking root, deep within each dragon’s soul...

A great bird perched atop a promontory, looking upon the dragon’s squabbles with glittering eyes. It wrapped its wings around itself, and its shape trembled as it laughed and laughed.

~ ~ ~
Aku didn’t know how it happened, but the Icewarden must have noticed that he was there. A few days after he put his plan into motion, the wardens came. He watched, still in the shape of a black bird, as the wardens tore his scheme apart, and his irritation turned into dismay.

Their methods were brutally direct. They simply stormed out of the wilderness and into the lair. A Bogsneak, made ornery by Aku’s magic potion, swaggered forward to meet them. “What’re you doing here, huh, wardens? You wanna fight?!”

Without another word, the warden in the lead swung her staff. It hit the Bogsneak’s face with a terrific whack! and he reeled backwards. Before he could recover, the other wardens pounced on him. They shackled his legs and tail and roped his wings against his sides as the other townsdrakes watched in consternation.

“He’s under the influence of some hostile enchantment. It seems to be similar to something the Shade would do....” The squad leaders discussed the problem in harsh, hushed voices. Meanwhile, one of them strode towards the Bogsneak’s head. She uncorked a bottle, shouting a magical command as she did so, and sparkling, blue-white fog poured from the bottle, covering the Bogsneak completely. He spluttered in indignation, but even from this distance, Aku could see how his eyes cleared, could feel the rancor caking away from his heart...

Foiled by the gods again! Aku prepared to leap upon the wardens. He would transform into a great beast, rend those arrogant drakes limb from limb...Something must’ve alerted the leader, however, for she spun, and Aku found himself staring not at an Ice dragon’s pale eyes, but the scarlet gaze of a dragoness from the Plaguelands. She gripped her staff and tugged on it, and it split into two pieces, revealing a concealed blade.

He could feel the magic emanating from it; this weapon must’ve been enchanted by some deity. The Icewarden, perhaps, or maybe even the Plaguebringer. He was not equipped to face a divine weapon, not here, and he fled, gnashing his teeth all the way back home. In the Tangled Wood, he brooded, his claws stroking his short red beard. “Those gods, those blasted deities,” he fumed. Scarlet flames leaped from his eyes as he raged, “Always undoing my evil plans!”

“One can learn a thing or two from the gods, however.” It was a quiet voice, albeit a familiar one. It took Aku a moment to find the source: Nyarlathotep had shifted into one of his favorite forms, a biped much like certain Beastclans. He leaned against a crooked stone column, idly observing.

“Learn from the gods? Learn from the gods!” It left Aku’s mouth in a roar. But as was always the case, his mind was flitting ahead, analyzing the possibilities....

The Lightweaver? Certainly not; he despised her and everything she stood for. Brightness, knowledge, truth...The others were not much better. The Earthshaker, the Gladekeeper, the Stormcatcher, the Plaguebringer...

He remembered the warden’s bright red eyes. He shrank from the memory of the blessed blade, but he did recall the enchanted mist wafting from the bottle. How it had settled onto the Bogsneak, leaving marks like frost flowers...

Nyarlathotep saw the smile snaking across Aku’s face. The Crawling Chaos queried, “Yet another magic potion, Aku? After the last one failed so soon?”

“Nay, Nyarlathotep. No more silly potions and tacky, tawdry charms.” This new spell would take over the body as well as the mind. It would leap from Aku and permeate helpless dragons, turning them into his minions. Then he would be able to control them, forcing them to do as he pleased. It would spread like a wildfire...or perhaps an infection.

And once he had perfected it, there would be no erasing it from whichever soul it had taken root in. No help from outside—not even from the gods.

~ written by Disillusionist (254672)
all edits by other users



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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_KUlbPV_BeM

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