Chapter 2
Author's Note: Thanks for actually taking time out of your day to review, to all who have!
Also, Cyril uses mild language in this chapter. This is because I still haven't thought of enough dragon "Language" to make a running gag of it, so, I'll keep it here until I think of one, then edit it out. Or keep it, whichever.
Fight Then Flight
Terrador sat, utterly bored, surveying Gyicil in his Element: Not Ice. Rambling, Long Winded Speeches about Apes. Terrador felt as though a manweersmall was burrowing through his ear, and was struggling to pay attention: Gyicil was the head of the dojo. It was an honor to be here- especially as he wasn't a guardian. But the way this was shaping up, Terrador was thinking he'd have to kiss an ape. That would get him out of these pointless meetings. Terrador could hardly believe what he was hearing.
"And none shall come after. The Apes are certainly on the move, creating an offensive of some kind- a small, but well organized attack. The apes have been less scattered as of late, and entire villages are vanishing off the map. This can only mean that they are rallying their entire race for a full-scale assault on this temple. They know full well where it is."
"Who the hell doesn't?" Hissed a voice behind Terrador. He looked around, and saw a tall, unhealthily thin blue dragon, with long, erect horns, hissing into the ear of a bony, slightly muscular, shortish red teen. The Dragon's Wings were especially thin, as if from lack of use, and very long. Ignitus snorted, and put a paw over his nose to cover the smoke. Cyril rolled his eyes at his father, and muttered, "Warmblood." Ignitus looked incredulously delighted. Terrador inwardly wondered how a dragon of such high birth would dare use such insults. Cyril smirked, unabashed.
Terrador was relieved to hear the dragons talking- a rare occurrence. It is very rude, thought Terrador, that, when ones so young are given such an honor, to besmirch it in such a way. But, true though that may be, it is quite a bit better than whatever the Duke has to say. Or is he a Baron? Who cares, besides he himself? Terrador was beginning to get very, very hungry, and wondered when he would get back to his boulder dragging, and then dismissing the thought, ashamed, and trying to listen to Gyicil.
"Breeches into the Isles have increased within the last sixteen moons. It is apparent that the apes seem to be scouting for something; they come through the gates, eying them. They also seem to be withdrawing into caves, and, most ominously, seem to have increased dramatically in numbers. Ambassador, what are your thoughts on this matter?"
Terrador shifted his thin attention to the Ambassador of Warfang, another Ice Dragon. Vain, this dragon, unlike Gyicil and Cyril, had a right. He was the Dragonkings' Nephew; he actually had the connections that Cyril, even so early, frequently boasted. Harikk looked more like Cyril than Gyicil; he was tall, sinuous, and straight-horned. He spoke, " Hrmm. The Avalarians report no unusual activity on the behalf of these apes. However, they have little knowledge of such things. What is more pressing is the new threat; these, Grubblins, that is what the Avalarians have named them, they seem to be of a new blood, neither warm like the apes nor firewarmed like ours; theirs is blue. They are monstrous, they are, and other monstrosities are being spawned in troves. I think the best course of action is to determine what is going on behind that."
Ingvar spoke up, ozone crackling around him in fury. "Warfang is impenetrable, my liege. You have to get past cannon fire, DRAGON fire, regular fire, arrows, ballistae, and the gates. If they get past that, the door can be shut. The Walls of Warfang are nearly three yards thick, not to mention how High it is. You would need siege towers, no, more than that, more than even the tallest siege tower. What have we here, at this Dojo, that anyone could not get through? Statues on switches, puzzles, and a few flame doors? Anyone with fire and a little wit could penetrate this temple!"
Terrador shifted, and spoke out loud in his commanding, basso voice. "Ingvar, friend, are you suggesting that an ape has the intellect required to--" Ignitus spoke, in a timid voice. "Terrador, the--the apes- well- they managed to survive this long....They're not exactly...." his voice vanished, and he hid behind his wings. Xelia spoke, soothingly.
"That is true, young dragon. We can't deny that one."
The Ambassador scoffed. "Boy, I once met an ape commando that tried to smuggle himself into Warfang dressed as a faun with a mask made of six leaves. Somehow I doubt their intellectual capabilities. This Dojo is not our main conce--"
Gyicil's cold manner cracked. "There are hatchlings in this temple! There are no hatchlings in Warfang!" he spat.
The Council stared for a second. Silently.
"It is still not our primary concern," said the ambassador, shaken.
"Bah," spat a rumbling voice. "We should smash the lot of these eightyears!" Everyone stared at the source of the worst insult a dragon parent could receive: mating before the tenth year, before the year of the dragon. Eight was also said to be the number of Golems in the world; so it was said to be a cursed number. The source was Chief Gharanus, Leader of the Wild Dragons. He was enormous; the only dragon in the room that could match him was Terrador. But he was older- And all the scars....
"They are nothing more than cheap lunches for Drakes!" proclaimed the dragon.
Red looked up at the Wild Dragon, disgusted. "Such notions are preposterous; You hold your tongue! Honestly. Fire and Ice are no different!" Said Red, dispassionately. Cyril blanched at the perceived insult!
"The Eightye-" Ignitus hit him. "Shut up! He was insulting us!"
Gharanus spat flame in a shattering roar. "You transgress your own kind? Your Own People, Rojazuk?"
Red Glared at Gharanus in a violent stare. They looked at each other for ten seconds. Then Red launched himself at Gharanus, and vice versa. The two clawed at each other in violent combat.
In a Second, The Earth Guardian, Terrador's mentor Roared in a vast roar, beyond the sounds the Earth could take. The entire room shook, and cracked, and She ran, boulders falling from nowhere, and shoved Red into the wall. She yelled at him, in a voice that shook Cyril and Ignitus, still bickering, and gambling over who would win (Cyril was betting against Red). "WHAT THE CORE WAS THAT? YOU RENOUNCED THIS!" She then seemed to diminish. "Red. You are above this..." She walked away. Gharanus looked up at Red. "A true dragon would not allow these scum to proliferate, uncle." And he walked out of the meeting.
Ignitus stared at Cyril, lost for words.
