=P
I said the title's On The Horizon. I didn't say I wouldn't add more to it. You'll see why I added that.
Continue on. ^_^
After their mirth had decreased enough, they went back to more serious matters, mainly if Miasmador was powerful enough to carry them all, which drew a laugh from the large lavender dragon.
"Do you see my size, little ones? I can easily be mistaken as a mountain," Miasmador replied, rolling growls escaping his throat, his pale imitation of a laugh. Althalos did his own laugh too, albeit shaky.
"There is no mistaking your size, dragon," Katelyn said, sounding as awed as she looked. "However," She stopped, pointing to the crude saddle that was now a mess before continuing on,"There is still the matter of flying. We want to keep our legs, you know?"
Fendrel nodded, grabbing their attention with a snap of his fingers. "We can make a replacement saddle. Wolves and many more flock these fields, I know, and we can use their pelts to make it."
"Can you not just defend your legs against my scales?" The dragon now asked.
Althalos ran a hand down Miasmador's side, feeling the dragon's scales with the tip of his fingers, observing how hard and resilient they are. "We can, but such a spell would drain someone in a minute of flying."
Fendrel pointed at the two Champions of Merec, an idea forming in his head. "I think we have an alternative to that. Both of you have a limitless amount of energy, and there is no doubt that you can sustain it until we get close enough."
Althalos looked at the sky. Droplets of water had already started to pierce through the dark gray clouds, falling to the brown earth, and soon enough, it would become a storm of massive proportions.
Althalos thought that maybe even Miasmador wouldn't be able to handle a storm bearing down on him, even if his size was relevant.
Althalos now took their attention, pointing up to the sky. "There's the matter of the sto.."
Miasmador quickly interrupted him. "There is no need for that, tiny one. I can easily fly over the clouds."
Althalos raised an eyebrow. "You're really rubbing it in our faces that we're extremely tiny compared to you, aren't you?"
All but Althalos and Miasmador gave a nod, chuckling at the young man's words, which caused the dragon to innocently say,"I have no idea of what you're speaking, Shadow Champion. I am merely saying that you are tiny, compared to me."
With a roll of his eyes, Althalos said,"Well, now that that's out of our list of problems, there's also time."
Fendrel interjected, having already calculated it,"With the knowledge I know of dragons, a large size is ironically faster when in flight. So it may only take us a few hours or so. No less than a day. A full dragon can traverse this whole country in one day, and Miasmador is one."
"I'm suspecting you're exaggerating," Althalos replied, sighing as he held his head with his hands,"but for the sake of Ayleth, we'll do it."
His heart pounded when he mentioned the Death Maiden's name, Ayleth Hadriandsdotter. It's been so long since he had seen his trusted companion, and he's grown to miss her with every passing second. He sighed again, this time filled with melancholy and longing.
Fendrel too sighed, looking away. "Alright. Let's do it. Anyone of you object to the plan?"
None did, and then they commenced their plan.
Only the shadows know if their plan is going to fail or not, Althalos thought to himself, shaking slightly as the Lord of Shadowy Death's voice rang in his ears, resonated through his mind.
It will. For once, you were smart and thoughtful.
But then, Merec of course wouldn't let such praise pass without an insult placed in a very subtle manner.
Of course.
Lord Merec.
I expect success from you, mortal. Do not even try to fail me.
Minutes later, and they were off. Miasmador reared up and took to the air, unleashing forth a titanic sound akin to thunder that shook all of who he carried within their core. A laugh emanated out of his throat as the dragon saw the surprised and slightly terrified looks the others exhibited, especially Alianor and Althalos, who looked shaken, to say the least.
Earlier, Althalos and Katelyn talked over what words were to be used, while Fendrel and the others prepared for an hour-long flight. The Nightwalkers saved them all the trouble by inventing a spell that made them stick to Miasmador's scales for the time being, unable to fall and have a terribly gruesome death.
Althalos took the liberty of conjuring up a small orb of flame by whispering,"Eldrih."
With that one ball of fire, they were extremely grateful for him, for the biting cold practically freezed their limbs, and having a source of heat was next to impossible in this kind of temparature.
Though if magic was of the relevance...
Althalos fed the fire with his energy, manipulating it to the point that it was hotter than newly-forged steel, but still having the same size as before.
"I don't understand why this dragon's fire did not reach us," Katelyn remarked, describing Miasmador's body heat.
A low grumble, and Miasmador replied,"At this conditions, even we are challenged."
The woman was now silent, understanding his statement, as did the others who also possessed the same curiosity earlier.
They--Miasmador--flew up, far above the clouds themselves, and then most of them gasped.
"This is..." Althalos struggled to finish, his eyes fixated on the scene, so Justin finished for him, also struggling.
"Astounding."
"They always said looks can be deceiving," Fendrel told himself, wide-eyed at the spectacle before him.
"How right they were," Althalos replied, even if it was uneeded, still looking at this spectacle that would have been only glimpsed once in a whole life.
Dragons.
Dragons of all sizes, of all colors, sailed through the seas in the sky, basking in the glow of the sun, radiating their gleaming scales. They shone like a beacon of hope in a world of darkness, and most were only young ones, just like the dragon Miasmador was once was.
They were all wide-eyes and jaw-dropped at this scene before them, but perhaps the most surprised would have been Miasmador himself.
The dragon's eyes were fixed on the rest of his kind. Red dragons, yellow dragons, green dragons, black dragons, white dragons, by the fire within his veins, no color was spared to be the dragon's hard scales. Some young ones basked in snow-capped mountains, and Althalos saw with his red eyes some eggs that were kept warm and safe in caverns in these same tall mountains.
A red full-grown dragon darted past them, going at a speed so unnatural that only the demons' sight can hope to see them, and even then it was but a blur in the clear azure skies.
The dragon roared, like a sort of greetings, and then Miasmador roared straight back, his rugged tones showing his absolute gaiety.
"So pretty," Alianor commented, and the others agreed, smiling. She reached out her fingers, as if hoping to touch them, the rainbow of colors the dragons did.
"Dys ty qyol swy riezy ab o talsod," The Nightwalkers Seere and Astarte whispered, and at once, they turned into human equals of themselves. Astarte had long red hair, and black eyes, which was different for Seere, who had ebony black hair, but dark ruby orbs.
"Smart idea," Fendrel remarked, nodding. The Nightwalkers' replies were but a nod also.
Miasmador flew past most of them, still feeling overwhelmed at this. Having been raised by two elven assassins, cooped up in a cave, he hardly had time enough to see any one of his kin, and in some rare times, he believed himself to be the last of his kind, but now, such thoughts that can only linger in his mind was.
I cannot believe this. They are all so... beautiful.
A large blue dragon who could've only be a young one flew right in front of him, halting him in his tracks. She blocked his way, staring at him with narrowed eyes.
The dragon had a sleek body unlike Miasmador, but also had defined muscles like Miasmador's, and elegantly curved horns sprouted from the dragon's head. Althalos stared at the dragon, marvelling at its beauty.
"Kes merzi ni?" The dragon asked, raising one of its scaly eyebrows, her tone of voice noticeably lighter than Miasmador's. She grumbled slightly when she took sight of the humans aboard Miasmador, her eyes focused on Althalos alone. "Kaerz?"
"I cannot understand you, my kin."
With that, a roar erupted from the dragon's maw, and Althalos had the inkling that perhaps this time, it wasn't a sort of greetings.
"How can an old dragon such as yourself not understand our language?" It sounded very angry, and in their case, rightly so.
Miasmador shook his head, of course not allowing herself to be privy as to why he was a full-grown dragon. "I was isolated from my kind..."
"Seraith," The dragon replied. "I am a dragoness, a ruler of the skies, a terror of the seas, as you are also. What is your name, great one?"
"Miasmador, Seraith. I am Miasmador," Miasmador replied, introducing himself to Seraith. He took the title of 'great one' vey willingly, Althalos noticed, his stance showing pride and arrogance that befitted one of his status.
"Now why were you isolated from your kind?" Seraith asked.
"Is it your right to intrude upon my life?" Miasmador challenged, growling, to which she reciprocated. "I have barely met you, Seraith, and yet you act like we had been fast friends."
Narrowing her eyes, Seraith bared her teeth. "It is not my right to intrude on your life, but it is my right to ask why a dragon, a full-grown one at that, to have no knowledge of our language."
"I had told you before. I was isolated from my kind, and I can see the hunger in your eyes, Seraith. These kaerz, as you call them, saved me." Despite having no knowledge of the dragon's language, Miasmador was able to fluently pronounce the word without any slip-ups.
"How."
It was more of a statement than an answer.
Althalos had had enough, and like before, he didn't particularly care that the dragon before them was itching to make them her snack. "I don't mean to intrude upon your lover's quarrel, but we are in a bit of a hurry?"
Althalos did not shrink when Seraith, the dragoness, set her sights upon him, glaring with half-lidded eyes. He's met with more intimidating beings in the short time he's lived.
"Who are you now, human?"
"Besides being your noonday snack," Althalos remarked, drawing out a chuckle from Miasmador and a few from their group,"I am Althalos Fendrelsson, and we are in a journey to the north, to save our companion from a savage tribe of orcs. We--and I think Miasmador will agree with me--have no time to exchange life stories, as our companion, Ayleth Hadriansdotter, is probably being tortured as of this moment."
Harsh.
Althalos left no room for arguments, and whatever ones Seraith tried to conjure up were suppressed by the cunning Shadow Champion.
"You speak wisely, human," Seraith said, backing down from her questions. "But answer me this one last question. Who are you all really?"
Smart dragon.
Althalos nodded. "Very well," He said, rolling his eyes at the others, while preventing Seraith from seeing it, which elicited another bout of chuckles. "We are assassins, I am the Shadow Master, and we have been trying to save our companion, a fellow assassin, from the orcs' clutches. A rival guild has arisen again, and one of our own betrayed us, causing the destruction of our own guild, so we seek to reclaim her, whilst seeking vengeance for the rival group."
Seraith growled, settling herself beside Miasmador, still glaring at the red-eyed assassin of the Silent Ones. "This leaves more questions than answers, Althalos Fendrelsson."
"It certainly does," Miasmador commented, now preparing to fly away as the path was left open.
Seraith's words all stopped them completely. "May I request then, Althalos Fendrelsson, that I may accompany you, and save your human companion, and in turn, tell me your whole story?"
Only Althalos was able to conjure up an answer that wasn't pure stammering, and even then he had trouble finding the words. "What are you saying, dra--Seraith?"
Seraith looked away for a second, then turned to him again, her iridescent eyes combating Althalos's ruby orbs.
Such colors in just her eye. She is most certainly one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever met.
And that was true enough, for most creatures he met had twisted faces, fanged teeth, a hairy exterior, were disgusting abominations, and had a blood-thirsty attitude, and then there was the fact that all would've killed him on sight if it weren't for his title as the Champion of Merec, the scion of the Shadowy Death.
"A help in exchange of knowlege. We dragons prize knowledge, and the chance for wisdom, and we are most certainly not the savage beasts that are the orcs."
With that, another round of stunned silence ensued, only broken by the flapping of wings and the distant roars of the other dragons who had not deigned to include themselves in their conversation.
"You're embarking on an adventure that can spell your death, dragon. Are you certain about this?" Fendrel asked for Althalos, who was still raising an eyebrow, stunned at this dragon's statement.
"My name is Seraith, human, and yes, I am. Besides, a dragon will help its kin in times of trouble, be they friends or enemies being of no relevance."
"Did you not thin..."
Seraith interrupted Miasmador, saying this in a slightly saddened tone. "Besides, I've been wanting to get out of this boring place for awhile now. No action, no adventure. I've been itching to have an adventure again, even if it's only a short one."
Althalos cleared his throat, one brow still raised. "I ask you now, Seraith. Can you not have an adventure that wouldn't spell your death? The blood of many already stains our hands, we would not want another one to meet her end at our doing, a dragon at that."
"I can handle myself, Althalos Fendrelsson. I dare say I'm a terror in the battlefield. No human can easily beat me, and these orcs are clumsy savages that couldn't hope to even nick me once."
Fendrel sighed, easily figuring out the dragon's obvious pride at herself, as if rather inherent of many of her kind, Miasmador included. "That's what they all say, Seraith."
"Can you not give me this one boon?"
Fendrel and Althalos thought of the same thing, sighing in exasperation.
Dragons. Too prideful, and then too persistent. Too much for their own good.
Althalos has had enough---again--so he waved his hands, acting irritated, but was otherwise excited as he said,"Fine, fine. You can come. But your death is not our fault, dragon. Our plate is full, and the contents are going to spill soon if it keeps adding up."
Seraith roared in approval, beginning to accompany Miasmador as he flapped his wings and burst through the air, his sights on the north.
"You are not to regret this, Althalos Fendrelsson!"
Somehow, I don't think I would.
You haven't seen anything yet, little mortal.
Althalos nodded, heeding the demon lord's words, Merec's influence taking control once more.
Of course, my Lord.
Seraith. Pretty name, though it could've been better.
Althalos chuckled silently, shaking his head. His Lord Merec certainly has a certain sway over humor, grim or not.
Author's Note:
You have no idea how hard it is to showcase Seraith the dragon. Honestly, it seems like this story's rushed. Sometimes I'm doubting my own capabilities to write. =P Seraith is a recycled version of Seralth, from my other story, A Hopeful Vengeance, that I'm going to rewrite completely.
Leave a like or comment if you like it. =)
Anyway, the next chapter is the highlight of the first task, which is saving Ayleth if you weren't really reading.
This book's going to be long, there's no doubt about that. It's long.
Bye for now. ^_^