Can I be on the pinglist for all slots?
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TOPIC | [WAIT][L&A] The Writ of Writing Shoppe
Can I be on the pinglist for all slots?
@KallyPaige - Absolutely! I'll get you added!
@Dragonderg @Aoroen @LostDreamer @Dartrix @Cats
Hey everyone. I wanted to give you all an updated. I got hit by some insomnia (AKA cats/dogs waking me up all through the night), and work was a lot more intense than usual. As a result... I'm sick. I can barely think straight and it's a struggle to stay upright... There's a tentative pause on work and I'm really hoping that I'll be back in action either later in the week or at least by next weekend.
>.< I'm so sorry, but please bear with me. Everyone on the list currently will receive an optional 10% discount for me having to push the wait back longer.
Thank you so much for understanding! <3
@Dragonderg @Aoroen @LostDreamer @Dartrix @Cats
Hey everyone. I wanted to give you all an updated. I got hit by some insomnia (AKA cats/dogs waking me up all through the night), and work was a lot more intense than usual. As a result... I'm sick. I can barely think straight and it's a struggle to stay upright... There's a tentative pause on work and I'm really hoping that I'll be back in action either later in the week or at least by next weekend.
>.< I'm so sorry, but please bear with me. Everyone on the list currently will receive an optional 10% discount for me having to push the wait back longer.
Thank you so much for understanding! <3
@KallyPaige - Absolutely! I'll get you added!
@Dragonderg @Aoroen @LostDreamer @Dartrix @Cats
Hey everyone. I wanted to give you all an updated. I got hit by some insomnia (AKA cats/dogs waking me up all through the night), and work was a lot more intense than usual. As a result... I'm sick. I can barely think straight and it's a struggle to stay upright... There's a tentative pause on work and I'm really hoping that I'll be back in action either later in the week or at least by next weekend.
>.< I'm so sorry, but please bear with me. Everyone on the list currently will receive an optional 10% discount for me having to push the wait back longer.
Thank you so much for understanding! <3
@Dragonderg @Aoroen @LostDreamer @Dartrix @Cats
Hey everyone. I wanted to give you all an updated. I got hit by some insomnia (AKA cats/dogs waking me up all through the night), and work was a lot more intense than usual. As a result... I'm sick. I can barely think straight and it's a struggle to stay upright... There's a tentative pause on work and I'm really hoping that I'll be back in action either later in the week or at least by next weekend.
>.< I'm so sorry, but please bear with me. Everyone on the list currently will receive an optional 10% discount for me having to push the wait back longer.
Thank you so much for understanding! <3
[center]Completed for Tinapie as a Memorial.
[img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/b67cc7b6139218f4fabe1e88c8ccc571/tumblr_plchv1xW6x1uyn897_640.jpg[/img][/center]
Completed for Tinapie as a Memorial.
@Dragonderg
LORE COMPLETED! I actually had a LOT of fun with this, and I hope you like it, too. Your payment due is 45 gems, so please send a 1-way CR whenever you get a chance. Thank you so much. ^w^
[i]Your word count is 1282 words![/i]
[quote=Weaver of Fate (Callon)]
Shapes drifted around him before disappearing into the void.
Some of the shapes he recognized. The faces of clanmates. Places he had been. Items he had touched.
Some of the shapes were confusing. Dragons he did not know soared past him. Places he had never been slipped past beneath his claws. Items he did not comprehend shot through the 'sky' like falling stars.
Sounds slipped around him. A mother's lullaby in a deafening crescendo. A cry of terror that slithered softly along his scales. Snippets of conversation passed as though the conservationists were strolling along with him in their wake. Someone sobbing. Someone laughing. A whispered adoration, a defiant shout, murmurs of hatred, whispers of loneliness. Every feasible emotion or word fell upon his ears and then left him.
All of the images and sounds roiled around him in a current that collided and parted again. It twisted and writhed, then darted in one direction only to quickly turn and take another. It surged with power for an instant before recoiling as swiftly as a Trick of the Light's tail. It was a sea in turmoil, in a primordial state of unrest.
And he was the focal point.
With gentle care, Callon reached out. His claws found a tiny thread, a fiber of such infinitesimal size that it could only be seen as it glimmered beneath the passing light of some image or other. He paid such things no mind as he very carefully pulled. His breath steady so that other strands would not become entangled he draw on his selection until there was enough to loop about his finger.
Then he waded into the madness.
If things had been chaotic in the eye of the chaos that was fortune telling, then attempting to navigate its constantly shifting environs was insanity at its most refined and laughable. Yet Callon moved forward; the further he traveled the more he felt himself weary from the constant onslaught of information that seemed to both beg for his attention and find incredible disdain in his presence. Though the sounds were the worst of it, especially when the past or future might surface with the terrors of violent combat or senseless brutality, he refused to let himself flinch lest the string be broken.
He could not tell how long he traveled for. Time, while the source of his path, held little meaning. Events rippled in space in all directions, the shocks of their creating lacking any kind of prejudice in where the energy went. It was not unlike how a storm would turn the surface of a placid pond into a wildly jumping creature subjected to the whim of the rain, thunder, wind, and lightning.
As clumsy as he was in the world of Sornieth, in the realm of Time... he was grace itself, a master of a world beneath the World. Here, he could See, and he could Know. He could walk on water, breathe great gales, slumber on a bed of stars, wield lightning as a toy... All it took was finding the right moments to observe and interact with.
In a way, he liked to think of himself as a Weaver of Fate. At first he had been childish. He would swat at images only to see how they would change, and he would shout or whisper back at the voices that had both delighted and terrified and confused him. But over the years he had understood that his choices had consequences. At one time he had found an image of a friend, Umbriel, who had been toying with something rather delicate. A swipe of his paw and the thing had shattered in her claws unexpectedly, wounding her. When he had returned and some weeks later the very event he had altered happened, the guilt had been overwhelming as the blood had poured from her injuries and had nearly cost her the mobility in her hands. He had promised himself at that point that he would be more careful and interfere as little as possible.
Sometimes, though... sometimes he could do good things, he had thought. He might whisper something kind to someone in sorrow, or nudge a cloud so children could play in the sunlight or fly a kite.
Yet even those small things he had learned could do harm. Cheering someone up denied another the chance, and that failed moment would destroy a bond of friendship or love that could only blossom in that moment. Nudging a cloud aside could create too much sunlight and dry the land out too much, which lead to dangerous fire that destroyed sources of food, and homes.
In the end, Callon learned it was best to not tempt things, to not interfere no matter what. Even if he had to shut his eyes and pin his ears against things that threatened to tear his heart from his breast. Or tears from his eyes.
A gentle tug on the string on his finger drew his attention. He paused and turned his gaze toward the source of the disturbance before smiling to himself. Yes, this was what he had been looking for.
Falling from the realm of Time was always disorienting. It was as if a great wind and waterfall poured over him, drowning him, uplifting him. He fell, or perhaps he rushed to the surface, but one moment there was a tremendous rush and the next he was once more in his own body. When he came to his senses he shrugged off his stiffness and discreetly worked a few of his joints to get them going again before shaking the lingering vestiges of dissociation from his foggy mind.
He breathed deeply and erected his ears. Through his sense of hearing he could tell that another person was in his lair, their breathing steady, but not the deep pattern of someone who was asleep. By his sense of smell he could almost pick out the dragon.
Some within the clan carried clean smells like soaps or fresh air. Others had tinges of spices about them, or others the lingering smoky wafts of being near a source of fire. More carried astringent scents of alchemical ingredients, and others the hints of growing things or certain metals or clothing materials.
Of course, it was also unlikely for someone not seeking a reading to linger around in his lair when he was in a Trance, so he chuckled deeply and lifted a claw to scratch at his cheek.
"Well, did you find out anything?" came an impatient question. The slight tremble in the voice gave away an uncertainty buried behind bravado. It was tempting to let the silence linger as resolutely as the darkness over his eyes, but he gave in after a moment and nodded his head.
Strangely, while anything he did in Time's Realm could leave a tremendous scar on the lives of others, Callon had found that knowing what the future would hold for dragons did little to alter that course or prevent it from happening almost exactly as predicted. Perhaps it was how he often forgot predictions until the moment they came true. Perhaps it was some sort of self-correcting paradox thing he did not really understand, or maybe it was something else like Fate, or Destiny. Then again, for all he knew, there was one more dragon god out there somewhere that made a game of rolling dice and their lives were little more than the results of where the dice happened to land.
"Well!?" prompted his visitor again.
Callon smiled deeply, revealing every one of his fangs beneath the draping material of his guise.
"Right, the dragon who is going to become your mate..."
[/quote]
@Dragonderg
LORE COMPLETED! I actually had a LOT of fun with this, and I hope you like it, too. Your payment due is 45 gems, so please send a 1-way CR whenever you get a chance. Thank you so much. ^w^
Your word count is 1282 words!
LORE COMPLETED! I actually had a LOT of fun with this, and I hope you like it, too. Your payment due is 45 gems, so please send a 1-way CR whenever you get a chance. Thank you so much. ^w^
Your word count is 1282 words!
Weaver of Fate (Callon) wrote:
Shapes drifted around him before disappearing into the void.
Some of the shapes he recognized. The faces of clanmates. Places he had been. Items he had touched.
Some of the shapes were confusing. Dragons he did not know soared past him. Places he had never been slipped past beneath his claws. Items he did not comprehend shot through the 'sky' like falling stars.
Sounds slipped around him. A mother's lullaby in a deafening crescendo. A cry of terror that slithered softly along his scales. Snippets of conversation passed as though the conservationists were strolling along with him in their wake. Someone sobbing. Someone laughing. A whispered adoration, a defiant shout, murmurs of hatred, whispers of loneliness. Every feasible emotion or word fell upon his ears and then left him.
All of the images and sounds roiled around him in a current that collided and parted again. It twisted and writhed, then darted in one direction only to quickly turn and take another. It surged with power for an instant before recoiling as swiftly as a Trick of the Light's tail. It was a sea in turmoil, in a primordial state of unrest.
And he was the focal point.
With gentle care, Callon reached out. His claws found a tiny thread, a fiber of such infinitesimal size that it could only be seen as it glimmered beneath the passing light of some image or other. He paid such things no mind as he very carefully pulled. His breath steady so that other strands would not become entangled he draw on his selection until there was enough to loop about his finger.
Then he waded into the madness.
If things had been chaotic in the eye of the chaos that was fortune telling, then attempting to navigate its constantly shifting environs was insanity at its most refined and laughable. Yet Callon moved forward; the further he traveled the more he felt himself weary from the constant onslaught of information that seemed to both beg for his attention and find incredible disdain in his presence. Though the sounds were the worst of it, especially when the past or future might surface with the terrors of violent combat or senseless brutality, he refused to let himself flinch lest the string be broken.
He could not tell how long he traveled for. Time, while the source of his path, held little meaning. Events rippled in space in all directions, the shocks of their creating lacking any kind of prejudice in where the energy went. It was not unlike how a storm would turn the surface of a placid pond into a wildly jumping creature subjected to the whim of the rain, thunder, wind, and lightning.
As clumsy as he was in the world of Sornieth, in the realm of Time... he was grace itself, a master of a world beneath the World. Here, he could See, and he could Know. He could walk on water, breathe great gales, slumber on a bed of stars, wield lightning as a toy... All it took was finding the right moments to observe and interact with.
In a way, he liked to think of himself as a Weaver of Fate. At first he had been childish. He would swat at images only to see how they would change, and he would shout or whisper back at the voices that had both delighted and terrified and confused him. But over the years he had understood that his choices had consequences. At one time he had found an image of a friend, Umbriel, who had been toying with something rather delicate. A swipe of his paw and the thing had shattered in her claws unexpectedly, wounding her. When he had returned and some weeks later the very event he had altered happened, the guilt had been overwhelming as the blood had poured from her injuries and had nearly cost her the mobility in her hands. He had promised himself at that point that he would be more careful and interfere as little as possible.
Sometimes, though... sometimes he could do good things, he had thought. He might whisper something kind to someone in sorrow, or nudge a cloud so children could play in the sunlight or fly a kite.
Yet even those small things he had learned could do harm. Cheering someone up denied another the chance, and that failed moment would destroy a bond of friendship or love that could only blossom in that moment. Nudging a cloud aside could create too much sunlight and dry the land out too much, which lead to dangerous fire that destroyed sources of food, and homes.
In the end, Callon learned it was best to not tempt things, to not interfere no matter what. Even if he had to shut his eyes and pin his ears against things that threatened to tear his heart from his breast. Or tears from his eyes.
A gentle tug on the string on his finger drew his attention. He paused and turned his gaze toward the source of the disturbance before smiling to himself. Yes, this was what he had been looking for.
Falling from the realm of Time was always disorienting. It was as if a great wind and waterfall poured over him, drowning him, uplifting him. He fell, or perhaps he rushed to the surface, but one moment there was a tremendous rush and the next he was once more in his own body. When he came to his senses he shrugged off his stiffness and discreetly worked a few of his joints to get them going again before shaking the lingering vestiges of dissociation from his foggy mind.
He breathed deeply and erected his ears. Through his sense of hearing he could tell that another person was in his lair, their breathing steady, but not the deep pattern of someone who was asleep. By his sense of smell he could almost pick out the dragon.
Some within the clan carried clean smells like soaps or fresh air. Others had tinges of spices about them, or others the lingering smoky wafts of being near a source of fire. More carried astringent scents of alchemical ingredients, and others the hints of growing things or certain metals or clothing materials.
Of course, it was also unlikely for someone not seeking a reading to linger around in his lair when he was in a Trance, so he chuckled deeply and lifted a claw to scratch at his cheek.
"Well, did you find out anything?" came an impatient question. The slight tremble in the voice gave away an uncertainty buried behind bravado. It was tempting to let the silence linger as resolutely as the darkness over his eyes, but he gave in after a moment and nodded his head.
Strangely, while anything he did in Time's Realm could leave a tremendous scar on the lives of others, Callon had found that knowing what the future would hold for dragons did little to alter that course or prevent it from happening almost exactly as predicted. Perhaps it was how he often forgot predictions until the moment they came true. Perhaps it was some sort of self-correcting paradox thing he did not really understand, or maybe it was something else like Fate, or Destiny. Then again, for all he knew, there was one more dragon god out there somewhere that made a game of rolling dice and their lives were little more than the results of where the dice happened to land.
"Well!?" prompted his visitor again.
Callon smiled deeply, revealing every one of his fangs beneath the draping material of his guise.
"Right, the dragon who is going to become your mate..."
Some of the shapes he recognized. The faces of clanmates. Places he had been. Items he had touched.
Some of the shapes were confusing. Dragons he did not know soared past him. Places he had never been slipped past beneath his claws. Items he did not comprehend shot through the 'sky' like falling stars.
Sounds slipped around him. A mother's lullaby in a deafening crescendo. A cry of terror that slithered softly along his scales. Snippets of conversation passed as though the conservationists were strolling along with him in their wake. Someone sobbing. Someone laughing. A whispered adoration, a defiant shout, murmurs of hatred, whispers of loneliness. Every feasible emotion or word fell upon his ears and then left him.
All of the images and sounds roiled around him in a current that collided and parted again. It twisted and writhed, then darted in one direction only to quickly turn and take another. It surged with power for an instant before recoiling as swiftly as a Trick of the Light's tail. It was a sea in turmoil, in a primordial state of unrest.
And he was the focal point.
With gentle care, Callon reached out. His claws found a tiny thread, a fiber of such infinitesimal size that it could only be seen as it glimmered beneath the passing light of some image or other. He paid such things no mind as he very carefully pulled. His breath steady so that other strands would not become entangled he draw on his selection until there was enough to loop about his finger.
Then he waded into the madness.
If things had been chaotic in the eye of the chaos that was fortune telling, then attempting to navigate its constantly shifting environs was insanity at its most refined and laughable. Yet Callon moved forward; the further he traveled the more he felt himself weary from the constant onslaught of information that seemed to both beg for his attention and find incredible disdain in his presence. Though the sounds were the worst of it, especially when the past or future might surface with the terrors of violent combat or senseless brutality, he refused to let himself flinch lest the string be broken.
He could not tell how long he traveled for. Time, while the source of his path, held little meaning. Events rippled in space in all directions, the shocks of their creating lacking any kind of prejudice in where the energy went. It was not unlike how a storm would turn the surface of a placid pond into a wildly jumping creature subjected to the whim of the rain, thunder, wind, and lightning.
As clumsy as he was in the world of Sornieth, in the realm of Time... he was grace itself, a master of a world beneath the World. Here, he could See, and he could Know. He could walk on water, breathe great gales, slumber on a bed of stars, wield lightning as a toy... All it took was finding the right moments to observe and interact with.
In a way, he liked to think of himself as a Weaver of Fate. At first he had been childish. He would swat at images only to see how they would change, and he would shout or whisper back at the voices that had both delighted and terrified and confused him. But over the years he had understood that his choices had consequences. At one time he had found an image of a friend, Umbriel, who had been toying with something rather delicate. A swipe of his paw and the thing had shattered in her claws unexpectedly, wounding her. When he had returned and some weeks later the very event he had altered happened, the guilt had been overwhelming as the blood had poured from her injuries and had nearly cost her the mobility in her hands. He had promised himself at that point that he would be more careful and interfere as little as possible.
Sometimes, though... sometimes he could do good things, he had thought. He might whisper something kind to someone in sorrow, or nudge a cloud so children could play in the sunlight or fly a kite.
Yet even those small things he had learned could do harm. Cheering someone up denied another the chance, and that failed moment would destroy a bond of friendship or love that could only blossom in that moment. Nudging a cloud aside could create too much sunlight and dry the land out too much, which lead to dangerous fire that destroyed sources of food, and homes.
In the end, Callon learned it was best to not tempt things, to not interfere no matter what. Even if he had to shut his eyes and pin his ears against things that threatened to tear his heart from his breast. Or tears from his eyes.
A gentle tug on the string on his finger drew his attention. He paused and turned his gaze toward the source of the disturbance before smiling to himself. Yes, this was what he had been looking for.
Falling from the realm of Time was always disorienting. It was as if a great wind and waterfall poured over him, drowning him, uplifting him. He fell, or perhaps he rushed to the surface, but one moment there was a tremendous rush and the next he was once more in his own body. When he came to his senses he shrugged off his stiffness and discreetly worked a few of his joints to get them going again before shaking the lingering vestiges of dissociation from his foggy mind.
He breathed deeply and erected his ears. Through his sense of hearing he could tell that another person was in his lair, their breathing steady, but not the deep pattern of someone who was asleep. By his sense of smell he could almost pick out the dragon.
Some within the clan carried clean smells like soaps or fresh air. Others had tinges of spices about them, or others the lingering smoky wafts of being near a source of fire. More carried astringent scents of alchemical ingredients, and others the hints of growing things or certain metals or clothing materials.
Of course, it was also unlikely for someone not seeking a reading to linger around in his lair when he was in a Trance, so he chuckled deeply and lifted a claw to scratch at his cheek.
"Well, did you find out anything?" came an impatient question. The slight tremble in the voice gave away an uncertainty buried behind bravado. It was tempting to let the silence linger as resolutely as the darkness over his eyes, but he gave in after a moment and nodded his head.
Strangely, while anything he did in Time's Realm could leave a tremendous scar on the lives of others, Callon had found that knowing what the future would hold for dragons did little to alter that course or prevent it from happening almost exactly as predicted. Perhaps it was how he often forgot predictions until the moment they came true. Perhaps it was some sort of self-correcting paradox thing he did not really understand, or maybe it was something else like Fate, or Destiny. Then again, for all he knew, there was one more dragon god out there somewhere that made a game of rolling dice and their lives were little more than the results of where the dice happened to land.
"Well!?" prompted his visitor again.
Callon smiled deeply, revealing every one of his fangs beneath the draping material of his guise.
"Right, the dragon who is going to become your mate..."
@Aoroen
Hi! So uh... I got carried away and your lore piece became "Extra Long"... You have 3589 words to your story for Corrin.
I know you said I could write more, but before I post this I wanted to make sure that you still wanted it, and that you could afford it. ^^; Oops? (Uh, but seriously, I think it came out amazing and when I'm impressed with myself it has to be kinda rocking?!)
Please let me know! If you're ok with the length then go ahead and send a 1-Way CR with your payment of 180 gems or 180k treasure. Once I get a reply of some kind (or payment), I'll post your results!
Seriously, I'm excited to share. I hope you like it!!!
Hi! So uh... I got carried away and your lore piece became "Extra Long"... You have 3589 words to your story for Corrin.
I know you said I could write more, but before I post this I wanted to make sure that you still wanted it, and that you could afford it. ^^; Oops? (Uh, but seriously, I think it came out amazing and when I'm impressed with myself it has to be kinda rocking?!)
Please let me know! If you're ok with the length then go ahead and send a 1-Way CR with your payment of 180 gems or 180k treasure. Once I get a reply of some kind (or payment), I'll post your results!
Seriously, I'm excited to share. I hope you like it!!!
@Aoroen
Hi! So uh... I got carried away and your lore piece became "Extra Long"... You have 3589 words to your story for Corrin.
I know you said I could write more, but before I post this I wanted to make sure that you still wanted it, and that you could afford it. ^^; Oops? (Uh, but seriously, I think it came out amazing and when I'm impressed with myself it has to be kinda rocking?!)
Please let me know! If you're ok with the length then go ahead and send a 1-Way CR with your payment of 180 gems or 180k treasure. Once I get a reply of some kind (or payment), I'll post your results!
Seriously, I'm excited to share. I hope you like it!!!
Hi! So uh... I got carried away and your lore piece became "Extra Long"... You have 3589 words to your story for Corrin.
I know you said I could write more, but before I post this I wanted to make sure that you still wanted it, and that you could afford it. ^^; Oops? (Uh, but seriously, I think it came out amazing and when I'm impressed with myself it has to be kinda rocking?!)
Please let me know! If you're ok with the length then go ahead and send a 1-Way CR with your payment of 180 gems or 180k treasure. Once I get a reply of some kind (or payment), I'll post your results!
Seriously, I'm excited to share. I hope you like it!!!
@LostDreamer @Dartrix @Cats
I wanted to confirm that each of you is still interested in having your orders completed. Please respond soon. If I don't hear from you within 72 hours I'll assume your answer is a 'no'. Thanks!
I wanted to confirm that each of you is still interested in having your orders completed. Please respond soon. If I don't hear from you within 72 hours I'll assume your answer is a 'no'. Thanks!
@LostDreamer @Dartrix @Cats
I wanted to confirm that each of you is still interested in having your orders completed. Please respond soon. If I don't hear from you within 72 hours I'll assume your answer is a 'no'. Thanks!
I wanted to confirm that each of you is still interested in having your orders completed. Please respond soon. If I don't hear from you within 72 hours I'll assume your answer is a 'no'. Thanks!
@Wysteria
Hi there! I'm definitely still interested. I'm very excited to see what you come up with! :D
Hi there! I'm definitely still interested. I'm very excited to see what you come up with! :D
@Wysteria
Hi there! I'm definitely still interested. I'm very excited to see what you come up with! :D
Hi there! I'm definitely still interested. I'm very excited to see what you come up with! :D
@Aoroen
Thank you so much! There is a lot of room here to add on, so if you feel like making another commission for another dragon's perspective, we can definitely do that in the future! :D
Included is a song that I was listening to for inspiration aid.
Song: [url=https://youtu.be/o-ntxaXHIWo]"Ensei" by Yuki Kajiura[/url]
Truly, I hope you like this, and without further hesitation...
[i]Your final word count is 3647 words![/i]
[quote=The Fragment (Corrin)]
[i]The corridors were empty and quiet as the moons rose high into the sky. The silvery glows danced lithely along the expansive windows with their intricate carvings before taking on their colors; a veritable rainbow of hues delighted in caressing the pillars, floors, and decorative paintings and ornaments with their splendor. Shadows waltzed with the prismatic moonbeams in a surreal vision, threatening the overwhelming silence with dreamy promises of whispered love affairs and secrets merely waiting to be seduced from their hiding places.
A rhythmic sound subtly split the silence as a lone figure flitted furtively from one pillar to the next. Padded feet moved with only the breath of a noise, little more than the flutter of a butterfly's wings, yet it was enough to chase away the surreal promises that only stillness could offer. Rather than shattering the paired dance of moonlight and darkness the figure, with immense confidence, slid into the role of shadows. Gracefully, they took control of the movements; a step here, a turn there, a brief pause as some other night noise drifted into the courtyard, then a lusty few paces to twirl away into another darkened alcove.
Before long the figure came to their destination.
A wide, circular courtyard that was left open to the skies presented itself in an orderly fashion. Rings of alternating marble and neatly trimmed grass grew smaller and smaller toward a central pedestal while pillars along the edges supported overhead panels of intricately trimmed and etched glass to protect the glittering, black stone benches beneath. Upon the pedestal itself rested something truly rare and precious; as it threw the light away from itself, basking in a shrouding darkness despite the attempts of the moons, the figure could believe the rumors.
A scale from the Shadowbinder herself.
A tongue stroked over dry lips, but soon after a cocky grin revealed gleaming rows of teeth beneath an obscuring guise.
It never occurred to the figure that the task of infiltrating such a place was far too easy. At least not truly. After all, the map to this place had been a fluke discovery. A glimpse of a piece of parchment in the bottom of one of the countless busted, rusting chests that seemed to be buried all over the known world. Deciphering the archaic runes had been a different challenge once he had freed the map, and then, too, had been matching the old map from the Second Age to a current map. The journey had been another harrowing task, avoiding members of the Beastclans, and fending off other savage creatures. At least until they had reached this hidden place, had chopped and hacked away the lichen and spores that had grown over the obscured entrance and hidden the rubble. How dragons had not discovered the place merely by flying about overhead the cloaked figure were not sure, but assumed it had something to do with the Scale.
Little reason to waste more time.
Slinking across the open courtyard the figure cast their gaze about to be certain one final time that there were no traps, no hidden watchers, nothing amiss. Nothing stirred, nothing hinted at anything other than perfectly presented opportunity. So the figure reached out their hands...[/i]
[b]"FOOL!"[/b] [i]boomed an incredible voice. Harsher and more bone-clattering than a roll of potent thunder, it came at the same moment as the Scale leaped to life. It bubbled and writhed, began to grow as it popped and sizzled, pieces of it spurting out and drooping to the ground where they, too, began to double in size. The shroud of darkness about the thing deepened, grew, consumed. Even as the figure tried to backpedal, to claw the strange ichor off of their scales, to flee from the thing darker than darkness they were swallowed entirely. Their scream was equally and wholely consumed and the last glimpse of them was little more than the thrashing of the tip of their tail.[/i]
As Mei awoke with a gasp from her dream, she shuddered and choked back tears. A heartbeat later terror drew her from her bed. So hastened by the vision she had seen she left behind her adornments as she tore from her sleeping quarters and flung herself down the halls until she came to the office of the general, her tail beating wildly against the door. She pounded rapidly, but did not raise her voice; the moment the door opened she threw herself inside despite a surprised grunt and the start of Xander's protest. However, as he saw the look on Mei's features and her widened, wild eyes, he stopped and instead encouraged the unwilling Seer to breathe. Then...
"Wait here a few moments. I am going to rouse Corrin."
[rule]
Corrin sighed after her sword cut clean through a heavy, thorn-ladden vine blocking her path. She adjusted her grip after the reverberations of the strike passed away and then strode forward, further into the darkness. Her crimson eyes peered intently, but it was no use. Outside of the gentle, phosphorescent glow of the giant mushrooms and other such plants and creatures she was not able to see very far. Despite the pervading shadows she had no wish to create a torch or give life to a lantern. It was only going to draw attention to her, and she was already being noisy as she was having to cut her way deep into the recesses of the Foxfire brambles.
As something skirted just out of her line of sight and vanished with a whispering rustle of foliage Corrin felt her scales crawl a little. Yet she shook her head, heaved a silent sigh, and pressed onward.
After having listened to what Mei had to say two days prior a great discussion had come up among the Clan. It was believed that what the skydancer had seen was not, in fact, a scale of the Shadowbinder but likely a piece of the Shade skulking about on Sornieth. The only trouble was, how did they verify that? And if they did verify it what would their next move be? Even a small part of the Shade would be horrifying and dangerous to deal with. Moreover, thanks to the terrain of the brambles it was difficult enough for one dragon to get through safely, let alone an entire platoon or army that might be needed to deal with that serious of a threat. Thus, they had argued and eventually come to a decision.
One of the clan's fighters should follow Mei's shakily drawn map and see if they could locate the very odd alcove, hidden as it was, to confirm whether the fiery dragoness had merely had a bad dream or if they should all be preparing for a life-and-death brawl with the force that threatened their world.
Afterward, a more vigorous argument had taken place between herself and Xander.
[rule]
[i]"I am the General and as such it is my duty to handle something that could be this dangerous," he had insisted.
"Right. And if something happens to you then we have no military leader here. I need to go. I'm a good fighter, and I can handle myself. If something happens to me and I don't return then you'll be safe and you'll be able to round up all our forces, and allies, and their forces, and so on... You can come rescue me, or at least avenge me or something heroic like that."
"Like abyss I'll let you go alone," he countered, his anger rising.
At that point, Camilla had tried to insert herself into the argument. In Corrin's eyes Camilla had always been too overprotective and while she had initially only been arguing that it should be another dragon besides Xander it was Camilla's presence and protest that had stirred her temper until she'd changed her argument to insist that she be the one to go.
"Stay out of this," Corrin and Xander said at once.
Camilla huffed and thrashed her tail, but gave into silence, and after another hour or two of insults, retorts, emotional outbursts and so on Corrin had finally won her right to be the one to dive into the depths of the Tangled Wood to determine whether or not Mei had truly been granted a vision or merely eaten something she shouldn't have.[/i]
[rule]
The further she got from home the more the wildclaw was convinced that the skydancer ate a bug she probably shouldn't have.
The traveling was difficult despite being used to the Shadowbinder's realm, and being smaller than, say, a Guardian. True, perhaps Aoroen would have had an easier time. With her harder scales and the strength that came with her bulk she might have simply pushed and bullied her way through the stubborn, cloying thorns that made the way trechorous. Corrin also had little doubt that the few troubles she'd had from the creatures of the place would have had less effect on someone of her friend's size. Even so... Corrin felt her pride as a fighter surging forward, and reassured herself as a mantra of confidence that she could and would achieve her mission.
When a couple of days had passed Corrin rather suddenly came across an opening. Not unlike the way behind her, which was already quickly filling in with new, tangled growth, the path before her was sliced by a blade and claws, torn out of its neighboring spiny entanglements by force.
She moved into the trail cautiously, her sword drawn, and tentatively began to examine things. Though it took her some time she eventually felt confident of a few things. First, whoever had made the trail was about her size, perhaps only a little bigger. Second, they had passed recently because their efforts resembled her own -- were it another day or two later then the path might have already closed enough to be missed. Third, Mei had probably not eaten a bad bug. At least not recently.
Dread began to gnaw at Corrin's stomach, but she ignored it to the best of her ability. Even if she now had a hunch that the vision was a true one, and was likely already fulfilled, or would be soon, her duty was to confirm things. She had to press forward to find out for sure rather than turn tail and retreat back without any real information other than she had found a trail going in the same direction as Mei's map.
Though it was on the wildest end of optimism it could always be considered that another Seer had experienced the same vision and, like her, another dragon was on a reconnaissance mission. However improbable it was still in the realm of posibility, she assured herself.
After a brief rest Corrin did a final check on her gear and then set off at a slow trot down the way toward her destination, sword at the ready.
[rule]
When Corrin arrived at the entrance to the cave, though shaft seemed the more appropriate term, she felt an unhealthy chill run down her spine and take a turn to punch a hole in her stomach. Truthfully, Corrin felt herself a braver-than-average dragon, but as dark as the shadows behind her had been they paled in comparison to the gaping maw of oblivion that snarled at her in silent, ravenous hunger. Teeth of palpable pitch stretched toward her, ready to devour her without a trace, without mercy. Such a weighted, oppressive feeling left her almost breathless and threatened to make her sick.
She gripped her sword a little tighter, and then sheathed it. Casting about she eventually found a long branch she felt was capable of giving her ample distance. She stretched it as far as she could and ever so tentatively... she poked the end of the stick into the entrance of the cave.
Nothing happened and so she took a step forward, prodding a little deeper.
Still nothing.
This action repeated with agonizing slowness until half of the branch vanished down the hole. When still nothing startling or apparently dangerous happened she threw the branch aside and considered her options.
Mei's vision had been right in that it had lead her to a place that matched the description shared with the clan. It had been right that something other than the Shadowbinder was lurking in the hole... Or had it been? True, Corrin was used to the shadows and miasma that lingered around their home, but what was the darkness around the Shadowbinder like, and could this simply be that? What if she returned now and they sent a force to deal with a threat that didn't actually exist?
She could feel her scales darkening with embarrassed shame merely at the thought and her chin kicked up slightly as she clenched her jaw and tightened her hands into tight fists. Xander could scold her later if needed, but she was not turning back until she had some definitive answers.
Steeling her resolve, Corrin strode into the enveloping darkness of the cave and surrendered herself to what might lie ahead.
After navigating the Pitch -- which was the name she decided to use to refer to the excessive darkness -- for some time Corrin felt her fear giving way to irritation. What trepidation lingered deep in the recesses of her thoughts was countered by building agitation as she continued to collide into things. She had numerous scrapes and bruises all over, she was certain, from the simple fact that she was blinded by utter lack of any perceivable light. She continued to refuse to strike a torch and so every stalactite hanging a little too low greeted her head with exuberance, and every hole or stalagmite greedily sought out her steps for company. She was certain that if she was to go much further then she was going to grind her fangs into the flat teeth that Snappers tended to boast. And then what? The world's only Wildclaw that had to munch on pre-mashed food?
The temptation to snort was nearly overwhelming, but her attention was caught by something that glimmered in the darkness ahead.
Drawn forward inexorably, almost as if she were suddenly embraced by a dream, Corrin's caution was overwhelmed by curiosity. What could be making that kind of light this deep in the ground and surrounded by darkness as she was?
One moment she was in the Pitch and in the next moment her claws struck a soft note on beautiful marble as a corridor opened in front of her. To her left banks of windows basked in moonlight, drinking in the beams like some thirsty herd of critters that spat out enchanting rays of prismatic colors in exchange; the vibrant beams highlighted tall columns and all manner of valuable treasures, displays, and even ornately carved doorways. The view was enchanting and lifted her spirits so that she nearly forgot the tribulations of her journey up to that point. As she took a step forward though her nose caught a familiar scent and visions of Xander flooded her thoughts.
Most particularly she could envision his scowl face as she debated going forward to see what rested on the other end of the elongated hallway. But how could she be entirely sure there was danger to be found if she did not see it for her own two eyes? What if some other band of dragons had already taken care of the problem? Then they wouldn't need to come after all, and they could save their energy and resources.
Yes, she was absolutely sure she needed to see the Courtyard for herself. She would merely need to be careful. Far more careful than the figure in Mei's vision. With that in mind, Corrin took to the shadows. Carefully, though with less grace, she stalked her way down the halls until she came at last to the Courtyard of Rings. It was exactly as Mei had described, only... there was no Scale. No sign of the Shade or a fragment of it, either. By all appearances the place was simply another abandoned ruin in the world. The pedestal stood empty in the middle and there were no signs at all of any kind of struggle or clash or anything amiss, really.
She would be hard pressed later to say exactly what it was that made her turn, made her reach to draw her sword, and raise it in a protective, sliding guard.
One moment she was debating striding into the courtyard and in the next she was whirling about, her feathered ridge prickling painfully on edge as she guided a heavy blow to her left. The shock sent a numbing tingle up her arm and her claws dug into the ground and stone as she was pushed backwards from the brunt of the blow. It took a moment for her vision to catch up with her body but when she was able to focus on the writhing mass of... something... stalking toward her she could read its intent very clearly -- it wanted to be sure she did not make it out of here.
And suddenly she was sure that Mei's vision had been a true one and that she, Corrin, was too late. No doubt that what she saw before her was a dragon consumed body and soul by the Shade.
The Fragment gave her no quarter. It assaulted her with a flurry of swiping claws and gnashing teeth that reached out of a chasmal maw; it battered her with a tail that seemed to be one, then many, and it set her on edge with horrifying noises she would never be able to describe as anything other than bone-clawing and worse than any nightmare that could be dreamed up. She felt wounds open up, felt her strength wane even as she tried to circle her way back toward the corridor to try and make an escape.
Only...
What if it followed her? Or worse... What if by swallowing her it would find out about her clan? About Aoroen? About Camilla? About... Xander...?
With a potent scream of absolute anger, terror, and so much more, Corrin lashed out, switching from defense to offense. Fueled by the need to keep this thing away from her Clanmates she tried to turn the tides, tried to overcome her own lagging strength to take out the abominal thing that wanted to devour her world, her life... her love. She would not have it!
Only the creature wriggled away from a downward stroke, its near-fluid mass giving it an advantage she did not have. She stumbled as it lashed unexpectedly at her feet, lurching forward into a motion she knew was going to expose her back, was going to give the Fragment the brief moment it needed to consume her as it had done the dragon in Mei's vision.
She closed her eyes so that she could picture Xander's face one more time before that came.
Except the Fragment screeched, a horrible cry that made her teeth ache and her sword hum in her grasp. She felt its presence retreat away. Quickly, she opened her eyes and turned about. Relief and terror washed over her.
"Xander! No!"
"I couldn't let you do this alone, Corrin. Find your strength! We're getting out of this together."
There was so much she wanted to shout. She wanted to throttle him for his idiocy. She wanted to kiss him for joy that he had come anyway. The Fragment gave her no time for any of it. As Xander helped fend the thing off she roused herself, only to find that even they were not alone.
"Aoroen! Camilla!"
The two females flashed Corrin a pair of smiles, and even others from the clan poured into the Courtyard, each one set with grim determination. The Fragment of the Shade howled angrily, defiantly, enraged at being denied its victim, of being defied in a place it had secured for itself. The dragons all cringed, but quickly they circled the Shade and the true battle between dragons and Fragment began.
[rule]
When the fight was over the Courtyard was in shambles. Corrin decided that she and the others did not look much better, but it did not matter much.
They were all alive. The Fragment had been purged from the Courtyard, and the dragon that had been consumed was being tended by one of the clan's physicians. They were a strange thing, the dragon, and it was clear that they were going to carry scars for the rest of their days, but all Corrin could really do was watch Xander. He was tired, like the rest of them, but he was still standing, giving orders to the rest of the Clan as they cleared away rubble to make a clean, open space. When she had the strength, and a moment where no one was approaching, she moved to his side.
"What now?" she asked him.
He sighed and looked to her, his stern features softening deeply. She felt her heartstrings hum as she gazed on his features.
"We move in," he declared. "We won this territory, and nearly at a high price. This will be ours, now, and we will fix it up and continue life as usual once everyone arrives. Corrin, I-"
"No," she said, interrupting him and lifting her tail to cover his maw. She could already feel her scales warming on her face. If he said anything nice to her she was bound to give in to some kind of outburst like tears, or worse, hug him. "I'm glad it's over. We can... talk about it later."
"Alright," Xander promised her, yearning in his eyes. She looked away, her cheeks hot. "When you're ready."
With a quick nod, Corrin made her way to her friend and tried to prepare herself for the next chapter of her, and her clan's, story.
--The End ... ?
[/quote]
@Aoroen
Thank you so much! There is a lot of room here to add on, so if you feel like making another commission for another dragon's perspective, we can definitely do that in the future! :D
Included is a song that I was listening to for inspiration aid.
Song: "Ensei" by Yuki Kajiura
Truly, I hope you like this, and without further hesitation...
Your final word count is 3647 words!
The corridors were empty and quiet as the moons rose high into the sky. The silvery glows danced lithely along the expansive windows with their intricate carvings before taking on their colors; a veritable rainbow of hues delighted in caressing the pillars, floors, and decorative paintings and ornaments with their splendor. Shadows waltzed with the prismatic moonbeams in a surreal vision, threatening the overwhelming silence with dreamy promises of whispered love affairs and secrets merely waiting to be seduced from their hiding places.
A rhythmic sound subtly split the silence as a lone figure flitted furtively from one pillar to the next. Padded feet moved with only the breath of a noise, little more than the flutter of a butterfly's wings, yet it was enough to chase away the surreal promises that only stillness could offer. Rather than shattering the paired dance of moonlight and darkness the figure, with immense confidence, slid into the role of shadows. Gracefully, they took control of the movements; a step here, a turn there, a brief pause as some other night noise drifted into the courtyard, then a lusty few paces to twirl away into another darkened alcove.
Before long the figure came to their destination.
A wide, circular courtyard that was left open to the skies presented itself in an orderly fashion. Rings of alternating marble and neatly trimmed grass grew smaller and smaller toward a central pedestal while pillars along the edges supported overhead panels of intricately trimmed and etched glass to protect the glittering, black stone benches beneath. Upon the pedestal itself rested something truly rare and precious; as it threw the light away from itself, basking in a shrouding darkness despite the attempts of the moons, the figure could believe the rumors.
A scale from the Shadowbinder herself.
A tongue stroked over dry lips, but soon after a cocky grin revealed gleaming rows of teeth beneath an obscuring guise.
It never occurred to the figure that the task of infiltrating such a place was far too easy. At least not truly. After all, the map to this place had been a fluke discovery. A glimpse of a piece of parchment in the bottom of one of the countless busted, rusting chests that seemed to be buried all over the known world. Deciphering the archaic runes had been a different challenge once he had freed the map, and then, too, had been matching the old map from the Second Age to a current map. The journey had been another harrowing task, avoiding members of the Beastclans, and fending off other savage creatures. At least until they had reached this hidden place, had chopped and hacked away the lichen and spores that had grown over the obscured entrance and hidden the rubble. How dragons had not discovered the place merely by flying about overhead the cloaked figure were not sure, but assumed it had something to do with the Scale.
Little reason to waste more time.
Slinking across the open courtyard the figure cast their gaze about to be certain one final time that there were no traps, no hidden watchers, nothing amiss. Nothing stirred, nothing hinted at anything other than perfectly presented opportunity. So the figure reached out their hands...
"FOOL!" boomed an incredible voice. Harsher and more bone-clattering than a roll of potent thunder, it came at the same moment as the Scale leaped to life. It bubbled and writhed, began to grow as it popped and sizzled, pieces of it spurting out and drooping to the ground where they, too, began to double in size. The shroud of darkness about the thing deepened, grew, consumed. Even as the figure tried to backpedal, to claw the strange ichor off of their scales, to flee from the thing darker than darkness they were swallowed entirely. Their scream was equally and wholely consumed and the last glimpse of them was little more than the thrashing of the tip of their tail.
As Mei awoke with a gasp from her dream, she shuddered and choked back tears. A heartbeat later terror drew her from her bed. So hastened by the vision she had seen she left behind her adornments as she tore from her sleeping quarters and flung herself down the halls until she came to the office of the general, her tail beating wildly against the door. She pounded rapidly, but did not raise her voice; the moment the door opened she threw herself inside despite a surprised grunt and the start of Xander's protest. However, as he saw the look on Mei's features and her widened, wild eyes, he stopped and instead encouraged the unwilling Seer to breathe. Then...
"Wait here a few moments. I am going to rouse Corrin."
Corrin sighed after her sword cut clean through a heavy, thorn-ladden vine blocking her path. She adjusted her grip after the reverberations of the strike passed away and then strode forward, further into the darkness. Her crimson eyes peered intently, but it was no use. Outside of the gentle, phosphorescent glow of the giant mushrooms and other such plants and creatures she was not able to see very far. Despite the pervading shadows she had no wish to create a torch or give life to a lantern. It was only going to draw attention to her, and she was already being noisy as she was having to cut her way deep into the recesses of the Foxfire brambles.
As something skirted just out of her line of sight and vanished with a whispering rustle of foliage Corrin felt her scales crawl a little. Yet she shook her head, heaved a silent sigh, and pressed onward.
After having listened to what Mei had to say two days prior a great discussion had come up among the Clan. It was believed that what the skydancer had seen was not, in fact, a scale of the Shadowbinder but likely a piece of the Shade skulking about on Sornieth. The only trouble was, how did they verify that? And if they did verify it what would their next move be? Even a small part of the Shade would be horrifying and dangerous to deal with. Moreover, thanks to the terrain of the brambles it was difficult enough for one dragon to get through safely, let alone an entire platoon or army that might be needed to deal with that serious of a threat. Thus, they had argued and eventually come to a decision.
One of the clan's fighters should follow Mei's shakily drawn map and see if they could locate the very odd alcove, hidden as it was, to confirm whether the fiery dragoness had merely had a bad dream or if they should all be preparing for a life-and-death brawl with the force that threatened their world.
Afterward, a more vigorous argument had taken place between herself and Xander.
"I am the General and as such it is my duty to handle something that could be this dangerous," he had insisted.
"Right. And if something happens to you then we have no military leader here. I need to go. I'm a good fighter, and I can handle myself. If something happens to me and I don't return then you'll be safe and you'll be able to round up all our forces, and allies, and their forces, and so on... You can come rescue me, or at least avenge me or something heroic like that."
"Like abyss I'll let you go alone," he countered, his anger rising.
At that point, Camilla had tried to insert herself into the argument. In Corrin's eyes Camilla had always been too overprotective and while she had initially only been arguing that it should be another dragon besides Xander it was Camilla's presence and protest that had stirred her temper until she'd changed her argument to insist that she be the one to go.
"Stay out of this," Corrin and Xander said at once.
Camilla huffed and thrashed her tail, but gave into silence, and after another hour or two of insults, retorts, emotional outbursts and so on Corrin had finally won her right to be the one to dive into the depths of the Tangled Wood to determine whether or not Mei had truly been granted a vision or merely eaten something she shouldn't have.
The further she got from home the more the wildclaw was convinced that the skydancer ate a bug she probably shouldn't have.
The traveling was difficult despite being used to the Shadowbinder's realm, and being smaller than, say, a Guardian. True, perhaps Aoroen would have had an easier time. With her harder scales and the strength that came with her bulk she might have simply pushed and bullied her way through the stubborn, cloying thorns that made the way trechorous. Corrin also had little doubt that the few troubles she'd had from the creatures of the place would have had less effect on someone of her friend's size. Even so... Corrin felt her pride as a fighter surging forward, and reassured herself as a mantra of confidence that she could and would achieve her mission.
When a couple of days had passed Corrin rather suddenly came across an opening. Not unlike the way behind her, which was already quickly filling in with new, tangled growth, the path before her was sliced by a blade and claws, torn out of its neighboring spiny entanglements by force.
She moved into the trail cautiously, her sword drawn, and tentatively began to examine things. Though it took her some time she eventually felt confident of a few things. First, whoever had made the trail was about her size, perhaps only a little bigger. Second, they had passed recently because their efforts resembled her own -- were it another day or two later then the path might have already closed enough to be missed. Third, Mei had probably not eaten a bad bug. At least not recently.
Dread began to gnaw at Corrin's stomach, but she ignored it to the best of her ability. Even if she now had a hunch that the vision was a true one, and was likely already fulfilled, or would be soon, her duty was to confirm things. She had to press forward to find out for sure rather than turn tail and retreat back without any real information other than she had found a trail going in the same direction as Mei's map.
Though it was on the wildest end of optimism it could always be considered that another Seer had experienced the same vision and, like her, another dragon was on a reconnaissance mission. However improbable it was still in the realm of posibility, she assured herself.
After a brief rest Corrin did a final check on her gear and then set off at a slow trot down the way toward her destination, sword at the ready.
When Corrin arrived at the entrance to the cave, though shaft seemed the more appropriate term, she felt an unhealthy chill run down her spine and take a turn to punch a hole in her stomach. Truthfully, Corrin felt herself a braver-than-average dragon, but as dark as the shadows behind her had been they paled in comparison to the gaping maw of oblivion that snarled at her in silent, ravenous hunger. Teeth of palpable pitch stretched toward her, ready to devour her without a trace, without mercy. Such a weighted, oppressive feeling left her almost breathless and threatened to make her sick.
She gripped her sword a little tighter, and then sheathed it. Casting about she eventually found a long branch she felt was capable of giving her ample distance. She stretched it as far as she could and ever so tentatively... she poked the end of the stick into the entrance of the cave.
Nothing happened and so she took a step forward, prodding a little deeper.
Still nothing.
This action repeated with agonizing slowness until half of the branch vanished down the hole. When still nothing startling or apparently dangerous happened she threw the branch aside and considered her options.
Mei's vision had been right in that it had lead her to a place that matched the description shared with the clan. It had been right that something other than the Shadowbinder was lurking in the hole... Or had it been? True, Corrin was used to the shadows and miasma that lingered around their home, but what was the darkness around the Shadowbinder like, and could this simply be that? What if she returned now and they sent a force to deal with a threat that didn't actually exist?
She could feel her scales darkening with embarrassed shame merely at the thought and her chin kicked up slightly as she clenched her jaw and tightened her hands into tight fists. Xander could scold her later if needed, but she was not turning back until she had some definitive answers.
Steeling her resolve, Corrin strode into the enveloping darkness of the cave and surrendered herself to what might lie ahead.
After navigating the Pitch -- which was the name she decided to use to refer to the excessive darkness -- for some time Corrin felt her fear giving way to irritation. What trepidation lingered deep in the recesses of her thoughts was countered by building agitation as she continued to collide into things. She had numerous scrapes and bruises all over, she was certain, from the simple fact that she was blinded by utter lack of any perceivable light. She continued to refuse to strike a torch and so every stalactite hanging a little too low greeted her head with exuberance, and every hole or stalagmite greedily sought out her steps for company. She was certain that if she was to go much further then she was going to grind her fangs into the flat teeth that Snappers tended to boast. And then what? The world's only Wildclaw that had to munch on pre-mashed food?
The temptation to snort was nearly overwhelming, but her attention was caught by something that glimmered in the darkness ahead.
Drawn forward inexorably, almost as if she were suddenly embraced by a dream, Corrin's caution was overwhelmed by curiosity. What could be making that kind of light this deep in the ground and surrounded by darkness as she was?
One moment she was in the Pitch and in the next moment her claws struck a soft note on beautiful marble as a corridor opened in front of her. To her left banks of windows basked in moonlight, drinking in the beams like some thirsty herd of critters that spat out enchanting rays of prismatic colors in exchange; the vibrant beams highlighted tall columns and all manner of valuable treasures, displays, and even ornately carved doorways. The view was enchanting and lifted her spirits so that she nearly forgot the tribulations of her journey up to that point. As she took a step forward though her nose caught a familiar scent and visions of Xander flooded her thoughts.
Most particularly she could envision his scowl face as she debated going forward to see what rested on the other end of the elongated hallway. But how could she be entirely sure there was danger to be found if she did not see it for her own two eyes? What if some other band of dragons had already taken care of the problem? Then they wouldn't need to come after all, and they could save their energy and resources.
Yes, she was absolutely sure she needed to see the Courtyard for herself. She would merely need to be careful. Far more careful than the figure in Mei's vision. With that in mind, Corrin took to the shadows. Carefully, though with less grace, she stalked her way down the halls until she came at last to the Courtyard of Rings. It was exactly as Mei had described, only... there was no Scale. No sign of the Shade or a fragment of it, either. By all appearances the place was simply another abandoned ruin in the world. The pedestal stood empty in the middle and there were no signs at all of any kind of struggle or clash or anything amiss, really.
She would be hard pressed later to say exactly what it was that made her turn, made her reach to draw her sword, and raise it in a protective, sliding guard.
One moment she was debating striding into the courtyard and in the next she was whirling about, her feathered ridge prickling painfully on edge as she guided a heavy blow to her left. The shock sent a numbing tingle up her arm and her claws dug into the ground and stone as she was pushed backwards from the brunt of the blow. It took a moment for her vision to catch up with her body but when she was able to focus on the writhing mass of... something... stalking toward her she could read its intent very clearly -- it wanted to be sure she did not make it out of here.
And suddenly she was sure that Mei's vision had been a true one and that she, Corrin, was too late. No doubt that what she saw before her was a dragon consumed body and soul by the Shade.
The Fragment gave her no quarter. It assaulted her with a flurry of swiping claws and gnashing teeth that reached out of a chasmal maw; it battered her with a tail that seemed to be one, then many, and it set her on edge with horrifying noises she would never be able to describe as anything other than bone-clawing and worse than any nightmare that could be dreamed up. She felt wounds open up, felt her strength wane even as she tried to circle her way back toward the corridor to try and make an escape.
Only...
What if it followed her? Or worse... What if by swallowing her it would find out about her clan? About Aoroen? About Camilla? About... Xander...?
With a potent scream of absolute anger, terror, and so much more, Corrin lashed out, switching from defense to offense. Fueled by the need to keep this thing away from her Clanmates she tried to turn the tides, tried to overcome her own lagging strength to take out the abominal thing that wanted to devour her world, her life... her love. She would not have it!
Only the creature wriggled away from a downward stroke, its near-fluid mass giving it an advantage she did not have. She stumbled as it lashed unexpectedly at her feet, lurching forward into a motion she knew was going to expose her back, was going to give the Fragment the brief moment it needed to consume her as it had done the dragon in Mei's vision.
She closed her eyes so that she could picture Xander's face one more time before that came.
Except the Fragment screeched, a horrible cry that made her teeth ache and her sword hum in her grasp. She felt its presence retreat away. Quickly, she opened her eyes and turned about. Relief and terror washed over her.
"Xander! No!"
"I couldn't let you do this alone, Corrin. Find your strength! We're getting out of this together."
There was so much she wanted to shout. She wanted to throttle him for his idiocy. She wanted to kiss him for joy that he had come anyway. The Fragment gave her no time for any of it. As Xander helped fend the thing off she roused herself, only to find that even they were not alone.
"Aoroen! Camilla!"
The two females flashed Corrin a pair of smiles, and even others from the clan poured into the Courtyard, each one set with grim determination. The Fragment of the Shade howled angrily, defiantly, enraged at being denied its victim, of being defied in a place it had secured for itself. The dragons all cringed, but quickly they circled the Shade and the true battle between dragons and Fragment began.
When the fight was over the Courtyard was in shambles. Corrin decided that she and the others did not look much better, but it did not matter much.
They were all alive. The Fragment had been purged from the Courtyard, and the dragon that had been consumed was being tended by one of the clan's physicians. They were a strange thing, the dragon, and it was clear that they were going to carry scars for the rest of their days, but all Corrin could really do was watch Xander. He was tired, like the rest of them, but he was still standing, giving orders to the rest of the Clan as they cleared away rubble to make a clean, open space. When she had the strength, and a moment where no one was approaching, she moved to his side.
"What now?" she asked him.
He sighed and looked to her, his stern features softening deeply. She felt her heartstrings hum as she gazed on his features.
"We move in," he declared. "We won this territory, and nearly at a high price. This will be ours, now, and we will fix it up and continue life as usual once everyone arrives. Corrin, I-"
"No," she said, interrupting him and lifting her tail to cover his maw. She could already feel her scales warming on her face. If he said anything nice to her she was bound to give in to some kind of outburst like tears, or worse, hug him. "I'm glad it's over. We can... talk about it later."
"Alright," Xander promised her, yearning in his eyes. She looked away, her cheeks hot. "When you're ready."
With a quick nod, Corrin made her way to her friend and tried to prepare herself for the next chapter of her, and her clan's, story.
--The End ... ?
Thank you so much! There is a lot of room here to add on, so if you feel like making another commission for another dragon's perspective, we can definitely do that in the future! :D
Included is a song that I was listening to for inspiration aid.
Song: "Ensei" by Yuki Kajiura
Truly, I hope you like this, and without further hesitation...
Your final word count is 3647 words!
The Fragment (Corrin) wrote:
The corridors were empty and quiet as the moons rose high into the sky. The silvery glows danced lithely along the expansive windows with their intricate carvings before taking on their colors; a veritable rainbow of hues delighted in caressing the pillars, floors, and decorative paintings and ornaments with their splendor. Shadows waltzed with the prismatic moonbeams in a surreal vision, threatening the overwhelming silence with dreamy promises of whispered love affairs and secrets merely waiting to be seduced from their hiding places.
A rhythmic sound subtly split the silence as a lone figure flitted furtively from one pillar to the next. Padded feet moved with only the breath of a noise, little more than the flutter of a butterfly's wings, yet it was enough to chase away the surreal promises that only stillness could offer. Rather than shattering the paired dance of moonlight and darkness the figure, with immense confidence, slid into the role of shadows. Gracefully, they took control of the movements; a step here, a turn there, a brief pause as some other night noise drifted into the courtyard, then a lusty few paces to twirl away into another darkened alcove.
Before long the figure came to their destination.
A wide, circular courtyard that was left open to the skies presented itself in an orderly fashion. Rings of alternating marble and neatly trimmed grass grew smaller and smaller toward a central pedestal while pillars along the edges supported overhead panels of intricately trimmed and etched glass to protect the glittering, black stone benches beneath. Upon the pedestal itself rested something truly rare and precious; as it threw the light away from itself, basking in a shrouding darkness despite the attempts of the moons, the figure could believe the rumors.
A scale from the Shadowbinder herself.
A tongue stroked over dry lips, but soon after a cocky grin revealed gleaming rows of teeth beneath an obscuring guise.
It never occurred to the figure that the task of infiltrating such a place was far too easy. At least not truly. After all, the map to this place had been a fluke discovery. A glimpse of a piece of parchment in the bottom of one of the countless busted, rusting chests that seemed to be buried all over the known world. Deciphering the archaic runes had been a different challenge once he had freed the map, and then, too, had been matching the old map from the Second Age to a current map. The journey had been another harrowing task, avoiding members of the Beastclans, and fending off other savage creatures. At least until they had reached this hidden place, had chopped and hacked away the lichen and spores that had grown over the obscured entrance and hidden the rubble. How dragons had not discovered the place merely by flying about overhead the cloaked figure were not sure, but assumed it had something to do with the Scale.
Little reason to waste more time.
Slinking across the open courtyard the figure cast their gaze about to be certain one final time that there were no traps, no hidden watchers, nothing amiss. Nothing stirred, nothing hinted at anything other than perfectly presented opportunity. So the figure reached out their hands...
"FOOL!" boomed an incredible voice. Harsher and more bone-clattering than a roll of potent thunder, it came at the same moment as the Scale leaped to life. It bubbled and writhed, began to grow as it popped and sizzled, pieces of it spurting out and drooping to the ground where they, too, began to double in size. The shroud of darkness about the thing deepened, grew, consumed. Even as the figure tried to backpedal, to claw the strange ichor off of their scales, to flee from the thing darker than darkness they were swallowed entirely. Their scream was equally and wholely consumed and the last glimpse of them was little more than the thrashing of the tip of their tail.
As Mei awoke with a gasp from her dream, she shuddered and choked back tears. A heartbeat later terror drew her from her bed. So hastened by the vision she had seen she left behind her adornments as she tore from her sleeping quarters and flung herself down the halls until she came to the office of the general, her tail beating wildly against the door. She pounded rapidly, but did not raise her voice; the moment the door opened she threw herself inside despite a surprised grunt and the start of Xander's protest. However, as he saw the look on Mei's features and her widened, wild eyes, he stopped and instead encouraged the unwilling Seer to breathe. Then...
"Wait here a few moments. I am going to rouse Corrin."
Corrin sighed after her sword cut clean through a heavy, thorn-ladden vine blocking her path. She adjusted her grip after the reverberations of the strike passed away and then strode forward, further into the darkness. Her crimson eyes peered intently, but it was no use. Outside of the gentle, phosphorescent glow of the giant mushrooms and other such plants and creatures she was not able to see very far. Despite the pervading shadows she had no wish to create a torch or give life to a lantern. It was only going to draw attention to her, and she was already being noisy as she was having to cut her way deep into the recesses of the Foxfire brambles.
As something skirted just out of her line of sight and vanished with a whispering rustle of foliage Corrin felt her scales crawl a little. Yet she shook her head, heaved a silent sigh, and pressed onward.
After having listened to what Mei had to say two days prior a great discussion had come up among the Clan. It was believed that what the skydancer had seen was not, in fact, a scale of the Shadowbinder but likely a piece of the Shade skulking about on Sornieth. The only trouble was, how did they verify that? And if they did verify it what would their next move be? Even a small part of the Shade would be horrifying and dangerous to deal with. Moreover, thanks to the terrain of the brambles it was difficult enough for one dragon to get through safely, let alone an entire platoon or army that might be needed to deal with that serious of a threat. Thus, they had argued and eventually come to a decision.
One of the clan's fighters should follow Mei's shakily drawn map and see if they could locate the very odd alcove, hidden as it was, to confirm whether the fiery dragoness had merely had a bad dream or if they should all be preparing for a life-and-death brawl with the force that threatened their world.
Afterward, a more vigorous argument had taken place between herself and Xander.
"I am the General and as such it is my duty to handle something that could be this dangerous," he had insisted.
"Right. And if something happens to you then we have no military leader here. I need to go. I'm a good fighter, and I can handle myself. If something happens to me and I don't return then you'll be safe and you'll be able to round up all our forces, and allies, and their forces, and so on... You can come rescue me, or at least avenge me or something heroic like that."
"Like abyss I'll let you go alone," he countered, his anger rising.
At that point, Camilla had tried to insert herself into the argument. In Corrin's eyes Camilla had always been too overprotective and while she had initially only been arguing that it should be another dragon besides Xander it was Camilla's presence and protest that had stirred her temper until she'd changed her argument to insist that she be the one to go.
"Stay out of this," Corrin and Xander said at once.
Camilla huffed and thrashed her tail, but gave into silence, and after another hour or two of insults, retorts, emotional outbursts and so on Corrin had finally won her right to be the one to dive into the depths of the Tangled Wood to determine whether or not Mei had truly been granted a vision or merely eaten something she shouldn't have.
The further she got from home the more the wildclaw was convinced that the skydancer ate a bug she probably shouldn't have.
The traveling was difficult despite being used to the Shadowbinder's realm, and being smaller than, say, a Guardian. True, perhaps Aoroen would have had an easier time. With her harder scales and the strength that came with her bulk she might have simply pushed and bullied her way through the stubborn, cloying thorns that made the way trechorous. Corrin also had little doubt that the few troubles she'd had from the creatures of the place would have had less effect on someone of her friend's size. Even so... Corrin felt her pride as a fighter surging forward, and reassured herself as a mantra of confidence that she could and would achieve her mission.
When a couple of days had passed Corrin rather suddenly came across an opening. Not unlike the way behind her, which was already quickly filling in with new, tangled growth, the path before her was sliced by a blade and claws, torn out of its neighboring spiny entanglements by force.
She moved into the trail cautiously, her sword drawn, and tentatively began to examine things. Though it took her some time she eventually felt confident of a few things. First, whoever had made the trail was about her size, perhaps only a little bigger. Second, they had passed recently because their efforts resembled her own -- were it another day or two later then the path might have already closed enough to be missed. Third, Mei had probably not eaten a bad bug. At least not recently.
Dread began to gnaw at Corrin's stomach, but she ignored it to the best of her ability. Even if she now had a hunch that the vision was a true one, and was likely already fulfilled, or would be soon, her duty was to confirm things. She had to press forward to find out for sure rather than turn tail and retreat back without any real information other than she had found a trail going in the same direction as Mei's map.
Though it was on the wildest end of optimism it could always be considered that another Seer had experienced the same vision and, like her, another dragon was on a reconnaissance mission. However improbable it was still in the realm of posibility, she assured herself.
After a brief rest Corrin did a final check on her gear and then set off at a slow trot down the way toward her destination, sword at the ready.
When Corrin arrived at the entrance to the cave, though shaft seemed the more appropriate term, she felt an unhealthy chill run down her spine and take a turn to punch a hole in her stomach. Truthfully, Corrin felt herself a braver-than-average dragon, but as dark as the shadows behind her had been they paled in comparison to the gaping maw of oblivion that snarled at her in silent, ravenous hunger. Teeth of palpable pitch stretched toward her, ready to devour her without a trace, without mercy. Such a weighted, oppressive feeling left her almost breathless and threatened to make her sick.
She gripped her sword a little tighter, and then sheathed it. Casting about she eventually found a long branch she felt was capable of giving her ample distance. She stretched it as far as she could and ever so tentatively... she poked the end of the stick into the entrance of the cave.
Nothing happened and so she took a step forward, prodding a little deeper.
Still nothing.
This action repeated with agonizing slowness until half of the branch vanished down the hole. When still nothing startling or apparently dangerous happened she threw the branch aside and considered her options.
Mei's vision had been right in that it had lead her to a place that matched the description shared with the clan. It had been right that something other than the Shadowbinder was lurking in the hole... Or had it been? True, Corrin was used to the shadows and miasma that lingered around their home, but what was the darkness around the Shadowbinder like, and could this simply be that? What if she returned now and they sent a force to deal with a threat that didn't actually exist?
She could feel her scales darkening with embarrassed shame merely at the thought and her chin kicked up slightly as she clenched her jaw and tightened her hands into tight fists. Xander could scold her later if needed, but she was not turning back until she had some definitive answers.
Steeling her resolve, Corrin strode into the enveloping darkness of the cave and surrendered herself to what might lie ahead.
After navigating the Pitch -- which was the name she decided to use to refer to the excessive darkness -- for some time Corrin felt her fear giving way to irritation. What trepidation lingered deep in the recesses of her thoughts was countered by building agitation as she continued to collide into things. She had numerous scrapes and bruises all over, she was certain, from the simple fact that she was blinded by utter lack of any perceivable light. She continued to refuse to strike a torch and so every stalactite hanging a little too low greeted her head with exuberance, and every hole or stalagmite greedily sought out her steps for company. She was certain that if she was to go much further then she was going to grind her fangs into the flat teeth that Snappers tended to boast. And then what? The world's only Wildclaw that had to munch on pre-mashed food?
The temptation to snort was nearly overwhelming, but her attention was caught by something that glimmered in the darkness ahead.
Drawn forward inexorably, almost as if she were suddenly embraced by a dream, Corrin's caution was overwhelmed by curiosity. What could be making that kind of light this deep in the ground and surrounded by darkness as she was?
One moment she was in the Pitch and in the next moment her claws struck a soft note on beautiful marble as a corridor opened in front of her. To her left banks of windows basked in moonlight, drinking in the beams like some thirsty herd of critters that spat out enchanting rays of prismatic colors in exchange; the vibrant beams highlighted tall columns and all manner of valuable treasures, displays, and even ornately carved doorways. The view was enchanting and lifted her spirits so that she nearly forgot the tribulations of her journey up to that point. As she took a step forward though her nose caught a familiar scent and visions of Xander flooded her thoughts.
Most particularly she could envision his scowl face as she debated going forward to see what rested on the other end of the elongated hallway. But how could she be entirely sure there was danger to be found if she did not see it for her own two eyes? What if some other band of dragons had already taken care of the problem? Then they wouldn't need to come after all, and they could save their energy and resources.
Yes, she was absolutely sure she needed to see the Courtyard for herself. She would merely need to be careful. Far more careful than the figure in Mei's vision. With that in mind, Corrin took to the shadows. Carefully, though with less grace, she stalked her way down the halls until she came at last to the Courtyard of Rings. It was exactly as Mei had described, only... there was no Scale. No sign of the Shade or a fragment of it, either. By all appearances the place was simply another abandoned ruin in the world. The pedestal stood empty in the middle and there were no signs at all of any kind of struggle or clash or anything amiss, really.
She would be hard pressed later to say exactly what it was that made her turn, made her reach to draw her sword, and raise it in a protective, sliding guard.
One moment she was debating striding into the courtyard and in the next she was whirling about, her feathered ridge prickling painfully on edge as she guided a heavy blow to her left. The shock sent a numbing tingle up her arm and her claws dug into the ground and stone as she was pushed backwards from the brunt of the blow. It took a moment for her vision to catch up with her body but when she was able to focus on the writhing mass of... something... stalking toward her she could read its intent very clearly -- it wanted to be sure she did not make it out of here.
And suddenly she was sure that Mei's vision had been a true one and that she, Corrin, was too late. No doubt that what she saw before her was a dragon consumed body and soul by the Shade.
The Fragment gave her no quarter. It assaulted her with a flurry of swiping claws and gnashing teeth that reached out of a chasmal maw; it battered her with a tail that seemed to be one, then many, and it set her on edge with horrifying noises she would never be able to describe as anything other than bone-clawing and worse than any nightmare that could be dreamed up. She felt wounds open up, felt her strength wane even as she tried to circle her way back toward the corridor to try and make an escape.
Only...
What if it followed her? Or worse... What if by swallowing her it would find out about her clan? About Aoroen? About Camilla? About... Xander...?
With a potent scream of absolute anger, terror, and so much more, Corrin lashed out, switching from defense to offense. Fueled by the need to keep this thing away from her Clanmates she tried to turn the tides, tried to overcome her own lagging strength to take out the abominal thing that wanted to devour her world, her life... her love. She would not have it!
Only the creature wriggled away from a downward stroke, its near-fluid mass giving it an advantage she did not have. She stumbled as it lashed unexpectedly at her feet, lurching forward into a motion she knew was going to expose her back, was going to give the Fragment the brief moment it needed to consume her as it had done the dragon in Mei's vision.
She closed her eyes so that she could picture Xander's face one more time before that came.
Except the Fragment screeched, a horrible cry that made her teeth ache and her sword hum in her grasp. She felt its presence retreat away. Quickly, she opened her eyes and turned about. Relief and terror washed over her.
"Xander! No!"
"I couldn't let you do this alone, Corrin. Find your strength! We're getting out of this together."
There was so much she wanted to shout. She wanted to throttle him for his idiocy. She wanted to kiss him for joy that he had come anyway. The Fragment gave her no time for any of it. As Xander helped fend the thing off she roused herself, only to find that even they were not alone.
"Aoroen! Camilla!"
The two females flashed Corrin a pair of smiles, and even others from the clan poured into the Courtyard, each one set with grim determination. The Fragment of the Shade howled angrily, defiantly, enraged at being denied its victim, of being defied in a place it had secured for itself. The dragons all cringed, but quickly they circled the Shade and the true battle between dragons and Fragment began.
When the fight was over the Courtyard was in shambles. Corrin decided that she and the others did not look much better, but it did not matter much.
They were all alive. The Fragment had been purged from the Courtyard, and the dragon that had been consumed was being tended by one of the clan's physicians. They were a strange thing, the dragon, and it was clear that they were going to carry scars for the rest of their days, but all Corrin could really do was watch Xander. He was tired, like the rest of them, but he was still standing, giving orders to the rest of the Clan as they cleared away rubble to make a clean, open space. When she had the strength, and a moment where no one was approaching, she moved to his side.
"What now?" she asked him.
He sighed and looked to her, his stern features softening deeply. She felt her heartstrings hum as she gazed on his features.
"We move in," he declared. "We won this territory, and nearly at a high price. This will be ours, now, and we will fix it up and continue life as usual once everyone arrives. Corrin, I-"
"No," she said, interrupting him and lifting her tail to cover his maw. She could already feel her scales warming on her face. If he said anything nice to her she was bound to give in to some kind of outburst like tears, or worse, hug him. "I'm glad it's over. We can... talk about it later."
"Alright," Xander promised her, yearning in his eyes. She looked away, her cheeks hot. "When you're ready."
With a quick nod, Corrin made her way to her friend and tried to prepare herself for the next chapter of her, and her clan's, story.
--The End ... ?