(SW of Celen's Fall) Hunting to Kill (17th Board)

Despite the effort that those earth magic wielding dragons of Maledictus Eice put into creating their replica sleeping fellows, as Irael’s spirit left the great dragon’s empty body, he- and Celen, the man quite outnumbered for all the dragons around him- had eyes and interest only for one another’s peace. Celen did not take his hands once from Irael’s phantom scales, moving alongside one great leg as some wordless communication took place between the two of them, hardly having to think to both decide they wanted away from these creatures.

Their forms flickered and crackled out of view as they passed from the huge chamber they had been fighting in, eyes looking a little now to the destruction caused to the walls, the great slabs laid across the floor that were cracked under the weight of fighting. A sad thing it was to see, such ancient architecture destroyed by such wanton negligence.

They came to a pause once into the hall of pictures, Celen sparing a brief glance for a ragged looking desert chaser that scarpered at the sight of them, before starting to look around at the nearest pictures; pictures of peace, happiness, the Guardians ruling over all. Ah, Celen only hoped for such things to prevail long into the future.

Celen stared up at the wall of pictures in front of him, although his eyes did not see them properly. His mind was preoccupied, saddened by the thought that such happy times might be coming to an end; would be coming to an end, with what these animals would do to the lightning stone. They obviously had no peaceful intentions, when they had struggled so hard to get to it. He had tried to put aside the worrying thoughts now he could do nothing, concentrate on Irael and things in front of him, but it was difficult. Difficult with the noise of dragons behind him, dragons who were trying to destroy his life's work. Dragons whom he should have banished from this place already.
Irael nosed down at his shoulder, drawing his attention to pat him on the cheek absently, even though it was more of a familiar gesture than one that gave either of them sensation, in this form.

A closer, clearer voice drew Celen's attention away from staring out in front of him, listening to the heavy sounds further away. He turned his head towards Rintho, his slow patting of his dragon pausing to see not a dragon, but a man stood in front of him. Or, closer to a man than dragons were; a lich, similar to himself.
"What brings you here, fellow? You are not dragonkind." He had not missed the way the dragons had rebelled so ferociously to the idea of humans. As if they were above all others. "This place is sacred, it should not be trespassed upon."

This man sought of the stone too, not merely to gaze upon it as the infrequent had over the years- and even then, not for many years- but to take of its magic. He was hardly better than these other intruders.
"There is always a choice. You understand this is hallowed ground, yet you still come here." But he had done it now, had slunk past Celen.   He could feel the magic on this man, most of it that which was a bastardised version of his own, but a small flicker of that he knew almost better than that which kept him alive. This man had stolen. What was the world outside doing, to bring monsters down to his own small land, to have the undead walk chained, and invaders hold the keys?
"Guardians we are, of this place, against those like you, who seek that which must remain undisturbed for peace. I am Celen, trusted friend and Elite of the Arch Mage. Irael is my closest companion, of the same standing. We are the protectors of the lightning stone."
And you should not be here, interloper.

"The Isle must remain in peace." Celen was quick to respond this time, without any of the mulling pauses he had had before. "There is no place for violence and death here. Peace must rule above all." He took a step towards Rintho at this, his point important. What was this, the disruption of peace? It could not happen. None of this had reached Celen and his dragon, locked away down here in their own sort of serenity, until this rude awakening.
"If you look around yourself at these paintings, and see only images, then the knowledge you have sought is far beyond your worth. They are here for a reason, to teach those foolhardy enough to quest down to these depths, of the story of the thing they seek." He reached out a hand to touch at the painted wall, his fingers slipping through the rock. "Take note of them, for they hold much more knowledge than that which I could tell you through words."
He feared for the Isle indeed now, when a man who sought knowledge asked such a thing; and there were greater intruders within his land that had ignored these painted warnings completely.
"The stone is a great and ancient thing, of which must not be destroyed. But it seems that there are those who wish to end the golden age of Dragons' Cove." He looked down past Rintho to his chamber, where the noises of the dragons echoed back to them.

Celen had never been a man for giving any lowly explorer answers they did not deserve, and that Rintho would not even pause to consider what he said gave him no further reason to indulge the man. How else had he kept such secrets he held out of common knowledge, without his coldness for those who only begged for knowledge, and did not go the way to seek it?
"There are answers to be seen, but those who look for them do not do the Isle any favours. These walls tell the past, of things that have shaped the land as it is today and those within it. Of things that have been kept from man and dragon alike to protect them, and to protect this place from darker things again."
If the dragons destroyed these things, then it would do no man favour, no dragon favour. They could do as they pleased now and think themselves great for their deeds, but ancient things such as the lightning stone had a purpose. The destruction of anything so set in stone would never bode well for peace and prosperity.
"If those rage filled animals destroy the stone, then everything you look on today will cease to be as it is. Irael and I have done as we can, as is our duty and honour, but we cannot stand before what will come of such a thing and survive it. And when we cannot, who have lived more years than you might hope to, the losses of the rest of the Isle will be incomparable."

"I speak of history. I speak of those things that have shaped today, despite those that live knowing nothing of it. I speak of the things written on these walls, that fools who dare to trespass think they have the authority to ignore. Dragons' Cove retains its peace for the stones, and the Arch Mage's great power, and that knowledge can be learnt from these walls, these walls that tell of the things that will come to pass again if his work is undone. And still, a change is sought." Celen's figure shimmered a little in the air, then reappeared with less distance between himself and Rintho, holding one arm out to point beyond, to the chamber they had come from. Perhaps these dragons wanted something 'better', but to destroy age old artifacts that they could not hope to understand, that would not bring a better thing, only ruin.

Do you understand now, Wanderer? Irael spoke up now, standing behind by the wall still. In times of old, before those you know today and do not appreciate for not knowing any other, the world was in darkness. And then, from the shadows, came the Arch Mage. We, the brave, and good of soul, followed him to see the land alive again. Without balance, all will fall again.

Irael looked around himself to the painted walls, then behind him, where history stretched further back, and into chaos. This man had not taken note of any of what was shown there, to be so ignorant now. It frustrated Celen, that he demanded such answers, without even looking himself for knowledge that was before his eyes. It was looking, not seeing, that he was doing.
The peace has been well kept, for you to believe only of it. But as my dear companion as said, the past is for the taking, if only you were to take note of it. Fire and blood has rained down before, and it will rain again without balance.
The Arch Mage would have been pleased, to know that peace had lasted such an age, and that Dragons' Cove would never know of a war.

"How long we will last, I do not know. The last time, the stone was not harmed, only I. It was not an undue time before I returned as I was before. But this time..." Everything had changed. Both he and Irael were spirits, unable to do a thing, and the lightning stone... who knew what fate would befall it; corruption, destruction? Would they even last out such a thing, drag themselves together again with their source gone. It was not something that they had ever contemplated... it seemed too absurd, too impossible.

Dyavol calmed down rapidly once the violence was over; his mood crashing as he realised how many dragons they had lost. He did not approve of the images raised over their enemies, but he already knew that he was more bitter towards their foes than some of the other dragons. The Clubtails knew what they were doing, so if they thought their foes had done enough to warrant this kind of burial, he would follow their judgement.

From there, everything went very quickly. The stone looked impregnable – Dyavol had no idea how they could even scratch the surface. However, he was keen to try. He grouped in with the other wind-magic dragons, and stopped near the front of the group despite his weak magic. It was one more way to let out his violent side, which would keep his mind from wandering. He didn’t understand all the talk of magic types, or what the ex-human-associate Euphorn thought he was doing, but let himself be shepherded through the motions until he was arranged where they needed him. With that, the magical attack began. It was strange for Dyavol to use his magic rather than his teeth and tail, and he wasn’t sure what he thought of it.

--

Oceianna backed away quickly as the huge dragon went down, letting the other dragons move ahead of her. She understood killing the man, but she felt sorry for his mount. She had done her bit – now the fiercer dragons could take over. She was more than happy to be ushered over to the small cave, where the magical attack on the stone had already begun. She would have helped the Euphorn explain magic types quite happily – Eliza had been obsessed with them – but she didn’t want to reveal that she had a human – especially not now. So, that in mind, she quietly joined the dark magic group, well aware that their attack would have little effect.

Once the correct magic system had been arranged, she loosed her attack on the stone vigorously. Her strength was in magic, so she was much more at home with this form of attack. It was much gentler on her injured wing too, which was really starting to throb now that the thrill of the fighting had gone.

The walls are truth and history, Irael agreed.
"History that should not have to be known, that should not be spelled out in every syllable," snapped Celen, glaring both at Rintho and his dragon too. "What else have we had to do down here for the past thousand years? The lightning stone has not changed, as there has been no threat to it. Unlike now, when you and those dragons bring all your destruction down here in the thought that you know best." He snorted disdainfully, stepping stiffly around Rintho so he could look at the lich from all sides, portray all his dislike for what had come with him- even if the man had not caused any of it. "Those dragons need to be stopped. They are foolish children, meddling in things they do not understand. Is it so hard to leave alone those things that have been put in place for good, even though their secrets may be unknown?"
The man was finally becoming irate about this whole situation, frustrated that he could do nothing more now, yet Rintho was not doing anything physical himself at this moment. It would have been completely irrational of course, but he did not think of that. "Of course it is a disatrous thing. Why else would we die over and again for its protection?"

Celen continued to walk up and down, feeling his dragon watching him and his attention close by. It felt strange not to have their mental connection in this state, so used to hearing the dragon's thoughts filter through his own easily. Like this, he felt half blinded against what Irael was feeling.
More positive than his companion, for certain. Celen always got like this when they lost their bodies for a while, suddenly disheartened and much more negative. It was a failure against the Arch Mage's wishes every time, he said. With Rintho close, he couldn't speak quietly to Celen and give reassurance however; and there had always been safety for one of them in the past. He understood his rider's switching moods, but it did not make the man look quite as great as he was to onlookers.
Celen, Irael rumbled, stopping the man from continuing his tirade for now. It could wait for later- it would. At least the man listened to him. Our magic is strong. It will take time, but we will return to our bodies and guard this place again, one or both of us. Then, we will protect what is left of the stone and its magic. The other stones cannot become corrupted or destroyed. If the lightning stone is, then they must be protected. They are of far more importance than any one life, even yours, prolonged through your state as it is.

Dyavol never once left the group responsible for the main attack on the stone – although he was a very weak magic user, he offered all the help he was able. However, once the stone showed signs of wear, he felt a hint of dread wash over him. The untamed magic ws brutal, and as the explosion of lightning forked through the group, he pulled back slightly. He missed the bulk of the attack, but a branch off the main fork struck the furthest pinin his tail, sending a shock up his spine. It hurt, and almost stunned him out of the air, but the metal took the worst of the strike, and he wasn't hurt as badly as many of the others.

He didn’t quite manage to retain his position in the air, and fell a few feet in the process, but he refused to leave the group to go with the injured. He insisted he was still fine – the red heat of the fight beforehand was still numbing his body, and his mind was fixed on their main objective: destroy the stone that enslaved their magical capabilities.

Everything was a bit of a blur beyond that. The stone began to let out magic at a startling rate, and the force of it did actually blow his wings off course, sending him spiralling uncontrollably through the cavern until he found himself with the injured dragons. Before he knew what was happening, they were all fleeing. He managed to fly some of the way himself, but then his wings refused to do any more, and it was all he could do to cling onto the nearest larger dragon and hope they could escape alive. After that, he didn’t recall anything until they reached the jungle again.

---

Oceianna’s wing began to throb more andmore as the magical struggle continues, and soon her energy reserves were too low to offer any great help. She retreated to the group of injured dragons, and slumped with the others, gritting her teeth against each pulse of pain through her wing and front quarters.

Her old master had once said something about what might happen if a stone was damaged, but until the wave of raw magic actually hit her, she had no idea what it would be like. She withstood the magical blow better than some dragons, but it quickly became clear that they wuld have to leave before the cavern fell down around them. She helped some of the other injured dragons to their feet, and led them back as far as she could, before the main force joined them in a dash to the point they had entered the Fall.

Her injury was too painful to fly up the fall again, but Ocei was a smaller dragon, and light besides, so a kindly dragon amongst the ranks must have helped her out of the great pit. She remembered a lot of the journey away from the Fall too, although others claimed that their memories were too hazy. Maybe she only thought she remembered.