Purpose: Chapter 25: The Stirrings

...

Curran was sure he had to be dreaming.

For one thing, he was alone. He knew by this fact alone that this was not reality. He had fallen asleep not too long ago, beside his companion, Hiami, and distinctly remembered wrapping his arms around her before falling into a deep sleep. For another, It was dark, but not impossible to see. In fact he could see a pulsing, almost like electricity, flowing along what looked like a leyline. But larger. Cyclindrical, and yet...alive. He was sure, whatever it was, it wasn't something he wanted to mess with.

He peered around into the omnescent darkness, searching for some familiarity, something to catch his bearings. But all he could see in any direction was the strange pulsing things that surrounded him.

Maguuma. Your true home is in Maguuma.

The voice startled him out of his musings. The electricity-like pulsing grew larger, more frequent. He stopped, feeling suddenly cold.

"No." He responded, his eyes narrowing against the darkness. "No, my home is wherever I want it to be."

The images came without his permission. A world, green and beautiful, like the grove but more than the grove, larger. Expanded. Lush. Exotic. It could only be Maguuma, a place few had stepped foot in before. He saw the canopy and the jungle floor. He saw the roots, the vines, the earth as it fed the pulsing leylines around it. He could feel the dragon's presense, so omnipotent, so overwhelming, he could do nothing but stare in silence. But it felt like home. It felt welcoming, despite the overwhelming presense of the elder dragon. He felt the urge to follow, to go there, to be there, with his brother's and sisters.

A nearly irresistable call. Nearly.

My child. Maguuma will always be your true home. My children belong with me, safely, here.

"No." Curran said, shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the images burned to the back of his lids. "I do not belong to you."

The darkness was back, then, and Curran felt a sense of dread wash over him. The dragons essense seemed to surround him, trying to suffocate him.

You cannot defy your father.

Curran could feel the strange shapes constrict around him, like large snakes, giant anacondas that wanted to see his body crushed to splinters. The energy that pulsed through them moved lethally.

I can make you so much stronger.

Curran shut his eyes, refusing to allow the dragon to feed him any more lies. His eyes had seen the lies of the world as often as they'd seen the truths. He wasn't going to allow it anymore. He centered himself, allowed his aura to cool. A technique he'd learned whilst he existed in the mists. He allowed his other senses, hearing, smell, touch, to evolve, grow exponentially. Sight was completely disregarded, and with it, the potential for hypnosis, seduction by the dragon's superfluous images. He relied on it no longer. The dragon hissed.

He knew he had to wake from the dream. It would allow him to reorient himself easier, allow him to fight the dragon while concious. Something the Dragon no doubt was trying to avoid. A consious and fighting target was harder to seduce then one who lay helpless and asleep. However... the target he'd chosen was not an ordinary sylvari.

Curran swung his arms around just in time to block a thick vine, pulsing with ley energy as it barreled towards him. The sheer force of the brutish column skidded him back several feet, and he raised his arms again in defense, his eyes held shut tightly.

So strong. Why do my strongest children resist me so? Can you not see that I built you this way... Molded you, so that you might join me?

The sylvari revenant hardly acknowledged the comment, instead turning his attention to an edge of the endless room where he sensed an escape. The dream was going to come to an end. He began to run, to sprint towards the shift in the space, where the shift of reality and dream collided. The dragon's roar was nearly deafening as he ran, his lungs burning with all of the effort.

I will never disappear child, remember that...

It was early morning, the sun was hardly peeking over the horizen through the window of the inn they'd stopped at. Curran's breathing was fast, his heart racing quickly in his chest. He clasped a hand to it warily, his eyes glued to the window as the sun rose. He heard a shift of the blankets, and a warm palm pressed up against his cheek.

"S'matter?" Hiami whispered sleepily, her eyes half lidded as she took in his taut appearance. "Nightmare?"

"Something of the sort." He said slowly, turning his gaze to the small pink Asura. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Not disturbed." She said, yawning. "Just felt a change in your natural sleeping algorhithm. Made me curious as to why."

"He's starting to get testy again." Curran said lowly. Hiami grimaced. Since they'd left Blood Tide Coast, they'd decided to head south towards Mount Maelstrom, finding themselves stopping near Murkvale. In that time, they'd noticed some strange changes. Though the Elder Dragon Zhaitan had been defeated some time prior, the undead still marched, without purpose, throughout the lower reaches of Tyria. A lot of the areas, though recovering, still needed healing, and culling of the undead. Not completely ready to face the new dragon head on, the group had thought it best to finish Iedreth's training here, and spend a little time in Orr before meeting the rest of the Pact fleet in the Silverwastes.

"Is the dragon speaking to you again?" Hiami asked, her eyes now wide awake, leaning on her elbows as she took in Curran's appearance. "What was he saying?"

"A lot of the same." Curran admitted, rubbing at his arm absently. "Trying to provoke me with images of Maguuma."

"Sounds like a sadistic type of dragon."

"He does indeed like to play upon the insecurities of one's weakness."

"Are you concerned?"

Curran paused at the question, unsure of how to answer. Was he concerned? He knew he could recognize the dragon's attempts at seduction from a mile away. He wasn't concerned that he wouldn't be able to stop himself if something were to happen. Or to think he couldn't resist... He looked at Hiami and felt his brow furrow.

"Not for me." He said. "We are a long way from Maguuma though. For him to be reaching this far out..."

"He's getting stronger." Hiami agreed, sitting up and stretching slightly. "We won't be able to linger here long. The Pact will have already begun to make moves to destroy the Vines and tendrils that block the entrance to Maguuma... If the dragon hasn't invited them in already..."

...

"What do you mean, they've left already?" Eileria's voice was higher than normal in distress. She had hardly believed it when she'd seen several of the floating ships had left the docking area, and refused to believe Trahearne would force a move inward without waiting on her. She felt almost insulted.

"Commander, It was a most urgent departure." The scribe stammered, trying hard not to fold under the commander's cold gaze. "Marshall Trahearne and some of Destiny's Edge... They departed to begin the assault. They said time was running out."

Eileria cursed under her breath. This was the last thing she needed on her plate, was to now have to chase down her Marshall, her friends, and try to warn them. It was a trap. The dragon was waiting for them.

But... Perhaps they had already known. And that was why they chose to make their move. Eileria nearly growled in frustration.

"Alright, fine. Where is the second Commander, Bryna Cloud?" She barked impatiently, nearly tapping her foot in aggravation. The scribe gulped, looking slightly scared.

"Well... erm..." Eileria's eyes narrowed. "She was last seen aboard Marshall Trahearne's Vessel." Eileria turned on her heel and quickly moved down the descending steps to where her friends were waiting, cautious eyes staring at her.

"Boss?" Rox asked tentatively. "Is everything alright?"

"They've left." Eileria said bitterly, her shoulders stooped forward. "Three of their vessels took off to Maguuma. We didn't have a chance to warn them." The collective gasp was nearly resounding.

"So... who then...?"

"Braham..." Eileria said, lifting her pale lavendar eyes tiredly to the norn. "You know Eir was on that ship." Braham's shoulder's shook with anger, and he glared into the empty sky, as if he could somehow recall the ships into it.

"How could they just leave like that?" He asked angrily, his voice shaking. "We have to go after them, we don't know-"

"I know, Braham. I know." Eileria said slowly. "We have no choice now. We have to go to Maguuma. It's where we'll find the Pact. It's where we'll find the egg. " She sighed, rubbing her forhead.

"Boss, do they have intentions of sending another ship?" Marjory asked, peering over to the docking station, where a slightly smaller, leaner ship was still docked.

"I'm not sure." Eileria replied honestly, looking off towards the docks as Marjory did. "Last I heard they only had three working vessels. They each carried a couple hundred sailors. The one that's there now-" She pointed to the smaller, leaner ship. "Is a faster, newer model. But incomplete. Carries around fifty troops."

"What's wrong with it?" Braham asked anxiously, eyeing up the piece of metal curiously. Eileria shrugged.

"I'd have to ask the technicians. Honestly, I'm not sure even they know whats wrong with it."

"We have to get into that jungle, Boss." Braham exclaimed. "My... Eir may be legendary but..."

"I know, there's a lot more to this than meets the eye." Eileria replied. "We'll do everything we can, Braham. But first, we need to find out when they're going to fix that ship. That, is our ticket out of here."

...

Bryna shivered, but it had nothing to do with the temperature. There was something eerie about the sloping curves of the canopy they were raised above as they silently sailed through the air. The vines were alive, that much was clear. And large. She had never seen such large protrusions before. They looked lethal. But even worse was the clear-cut tension that everyone could feel rolling off the crew in waves. Especially the Sylvari crewmembers, who's eyes shifted edgily from face to face as if unsure of who to trust. Bryna felt her grip tighten involuntarily on the haft of her mace. A hand closed over her own.

"Easy, my friend." Trahearne said lowly, his yellow eyes peering at each of the crewmates. "We've made the journey well so far. Let's not get too paranoid."

"Can you hear it now?" Bryna asked, the convoluted question hard to understand to third party ears. But Trahearne understood. His lips straightened into a thin line.

"Yes. It's got quite the plethora of vocabulary now that we're within Its territory." Trahearne replied in a tone barely above a whisper. "It's very...delighted. That we've come so close. It's a little unnerving, to say the least."

"Delighted." Bryna scoffed, the word grating on her nerves further. "Your choice of words leaves much to be desired." Trahearne laughed nervously, his yellowed eyes flashing with their natural bioluminescence.

As they continued their silent descent, they heard strange new sounds, whistles of birds that didn't exist in other parts of Tyria. Strange throaty sounding croaks blearing out from the shadows of the large-as-roof leaves. Smells of mulch and rot and earth combined with sweat and metal, swirling in the wind as it filtered by their ships. Bryna peered around again at their party. Charr. Human. Norn. Asura. Sylvari. All packed onto this vessel, sailing into unknown territory to fight the elder dragon that had killed their comrades, destroyed their homes, stricken their brothers and sisters, corrupted their lovers. They were here to fight. They were scared, some tired. Some eclectically awake, watching. Waiting. Wary.

Her eyes scanned the jungle again, scoping our the lush canopy for sections to permeate. There wasn't a lot of area to work with, and it looked like the jungle was made up of an unending fall, and some platforms with strange trees and mushrooms littering the edges. The wildlife was scattered about, paid no attention to them as they passed above them.

The first sign that something had changed was the wind.

The breeze stopped completely, the strange exotic smells with it. Bryna stiffened, feeling an almost tangible change in the atmosphere, the sweating heat increase and the high screeching of the insects keening off. A pulsing sound was heard a moment before a scream rang out on their ship.

One of the vigil archers, a spindly pale birch colored sylvari with Green accents was on his knees, hands scratching at his face. His eyes, once a leafy green, were now a pusling red, his face stuck in a permanant grimace.

"Trahearne!" Bryna cried out, unsheathing her mace and shield, standing hear ground as several other sylvari fell to their knees, clawing at their ears or heads. The Marshall was gripping the edge of the platform, holding his head in pain. He glanced up with one eye as Bryna called to him, and she noted his eyes were still golden.

"Bryna, help me restrain them!" Eir Stagalkin called, nocking another arrow and training it on the nearest Sylvari to her. Bryna turned to the nearest one her, and shifted herself slowly, holding out an arm.

"Caine-" She called out to the Birch Colored sylvari. But the archer's eyes were menacing as he gazed back at her, their depths altered. Their passion redirected.

He dove at her and she sidestepped, causing him to miss her by inches and roll lithely onto the wooden deck. He recovered quickly, on his feet at the same time that Bryna brought her shield to her face. His foot collided with it, and suddenly Bryna was aware of the din across the ship as comrades fought the mind-controlled sylvari off. Everywhere, the sylvari were attacking, gnashing teeth, swiping at their comrades in arms. It was utter chaos. And with such strength they moved!

"Hold them back!" Eir called again, striking one of the attacking sylvari with the edge of her bow. "Trahearne! Get a hold of yourself!"

"Right-"

An earsplitting crack rang out and broke the deafening fighting. Bryna's eyes widened in shock as the hull of the ship began to crack, the planks of wood straining under the immense pressure of something large, which proved to be a living vine the size of an elder dragon's arm.

Bryna's arms reached out to grab onto anything, find any purchase in the deck, but they were slipping, soldiers were falling off the deck and into the endless abyss, as the ship cracked and snapped while the vine grinded it to smithereens. She rammed into the docking station and the breath was knocked from her, as a piece of the mast cracked loose, falling and meeting her into darkness.

...

Here's the last one for now guys, I hope you've enjoyed the little spurts! I miss writing this, I haven't had as much time lately! Thank you all for keeping up, More to come in the future!