only to see him moving. He turned her around before his mouth could form any words. The upper portion of the stone god remained stationary, but behind the falls, the giant lap area shifted and moved. Scales appeared within the mists, and Pelivor's mind finally registered the horror awaiting them.
Perhaps the largest feral dragon to ever exist on Godsland overflowed from the god's lap. It was as if it had chosen its favorite sleeping spot when it was smaller and had outgrown it over time. Everything about this dragon spoke of age and power. It was nothing like those young and fresh dragons, so full of their newfound vigor. The feral dragons Catrin had fought until now had been but babies. Now they faced the elder statesman. At least that was how it felt to Pelivor.
Come closer.
The command was palpable, and Pelivor found himself drawn to the water's edge. Catrin walked beside him. The gems reached out to them, calling for him to embrace them and draw from the deep well they provided. He did not know what kind of stones these were, but Pelivor sensed the energy they stored, much like dragon ore. He could feel the energy the shield trapped being intensified and concentrated and forced into the stones with tremendous resistance, unlike the way dragon ore simply absorbed light. The frequency of their vibration made Pelivor's joints ache.
That's close enough.
Peering from behind the waterfall, the dragon's head, like a living mountain suddenly awake and hungry, moved. Pelivor looked to Catrin, who was entranced. The herald globe in her hand now glowing brightly, he wondered if he dared tap the power contained within this cavern. Already he could feel his innate abilities warming in the light, like feeling returned to a sleeping limb.
Your kind forfeited this place long ago.
Pelivor heard the statement but he was getting only one side of the conversation. With lidded eyes, as if in torpor, Catrin appeared asleep. He had to trust she was communicating with this ancient dragon and that he should keep his mouth--or mind--shut.
I am much pleased that you've given me back my power. You'll be rewarded for this act once you've completed the task.
Not knowing what the task was, a bad feeling festered in Pelivor's gut. The dragon looked down on them greedily. Catrin had said this place was a prison. She'd been correct, and it was occupied all along. No ordinary dragon, this beast had full and skilled access to Istra's power. Pelivor could feel the intricate control and subtle touch the magnificent beast possessed. Catrin had once marveled at his control and the complex structures he'd instinctively created, but both were clumsy hacks in comparison to this creature.
Mael.
The name thundered in Pelivor's mind; he was helpless to resist such power and control. The chance to run was past, and Catrin appeared to be faring no better. The fear keeping the demons from entering this hall was real and warranted, but Pelivor now realized even that was futile. Mael had long been manipulating the people of the Godfist, preparing to use them as the instruments of his release from this millennia-old prison.
Even the Dragon's Wing had not been immune. Mael sent Pelivor visions of the events that brought them into the hold. So many random and otherwise unexplainable things began making sense, which terrified Pelivor more than anything else could. If this creature escaped from Dragonhold, no one in the world would be safe, and Mael made it clear he would have no mercy on the descendants of those who'd imprisoned him. It may have been thousands of years ago, but dragon memories are longer than those of trees.
If Mael had been able to exert that much influence from within the most powerful prison ever built, then he would be unstoppable in the unfettered light. What had once been Pelivor's will collapsed under Mael's influence, staying his hand. Pelivor's fingertips itched with power, the attack ready to be unleashed with a flick of his will, but
Perhaps the largest feral dragon to ever exist on Godsland overflowed from the god's lap. It was as if it had chosen its favorite sleeping spot when it was smaller and had outgrown it over time. Everything about this dragon spoke of age and power. It was nothing like those young and fresh dragons, so full of their newfound vigor. The feral dragons Catrin had fought until now had been but babies. Now they faced the elder statesman. At least that was how it felt to Pelivor.
Come closer.
The command was palpable, and Pelivor found himself drawn to the water's edge. Catrin walked beside him. The gems reached out to them, calling for him to embrace them and draw from the deep well they provided. He did not know what kind of stones these were, but Pelivor sensed the energy they stored, much like dragon ore. He could feel the energy the shield trapped being intensified and concentrated and forced into the stones with tremendous resistance, unlike the way dragon ore simply absorbed light. The frequency of their vibration made Pelivor's joints ache.
That's close enough.
Peering from behind the waterfall, the dragon's head, like a living mountain suddenly awake and hungry, moved. Pelivor looked to Catrin, who was entranced. The herald globe in her hand now glowing brightly, he wondered if he dared tap the power contained within this cavern. Already he could feel his innate abilities warming in the light, like feeling returned to a sleeping limb.
Your kind forfeited this place long ago.
Pelivor heard the statement but he was getting only one side of the conversation. With lidded eyes, as if in torpor, Catrin appeared asleep. He had to trust she was communicating with this ancient dragon and that he should keep his mouth--or mind--shut.
I am much pleased that you've given me back my power. You'll be rewarded for this act once you've completed the task.
Not knowing what the task was, a bad feeling festered in Pelivor's gut. The dragon looked down on them greedily. Catrin had said this place was a prison. She'd been correct, and it was occupied all along. No ordinary dragon, this beast had full and skilled access to Istra's power. Pelivor could feel the intricate control and subtle touch the magnificent beast possessed. Catrin had once marveled at his control and the complex structures he'd instinctively created, but both were clumsy hacks in comparison to this creature.
Mael.
The name thundered in Pelivor's mind; he was helpless to resist such power and control. The chance to run was past, and Catrin appeared to be faring no better. The fear keeping the demons from entering this hall was real and warranted, but Pelivor now realized even that was futile. Mael had long been manipulating the people of the Godfist, preparing to use them as the instruments of his release from this millennia-old prison.
Even the Dragon's Wing had not been immune. Mael sent Pelivor visions of the events that brought them into the hold. So many random and otherwise unexplainable things began making sense, which terrified Pelivor more than anything else could. If this creature escaped from Dragonhold, no one in the world would be safe, and Mael made it clear he would have no mercy on the descendants of those who'd imprisoned him. It may have been thousands of years ago, but dragon memories are longer than those of trees.
If Mael had been able to exert that much influence from within the most powerful prison ever built, then he would be unstoppable in the unfettered light. What had once been Pelivor's will collapsed under Mael's influence, staying his hand. Pelivor's fingertips itched with power, the attack ready to be unleashed with a flick of his will, but
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