Notes: Hmm. I just realized how long this is going to take if I do the whole movie like this.......O_O Oh well. As long as people are up to reading it, I'll continue typing away. Ok, on with Chapter 2.
Quintus unfolds his mighty wings and flaps into the winter sky, kicking up clouds of stray dust as he does so. Maximus watches him rise, then turns to face the forest. The Darkness spell has worn off, and the immense army of barbarians can be seen through the mist. Their leader is obviously the wyvern-a large white creature that greatly resembles a dragon, minus the fact that it has no hind legs, just a whip like tail that spirals downwards. Even from this distance, Maximus can sense that this creature holds great power. Perhaps not brute strength, but very powerful magic, which can be just as dangerous. Maximus briefly wonders where the group of barbarians, consisting mostly of satyrs and gnomes, came up with this powerful being to be their leader.
Quickly shaking these thoughts out of his mind, Maximus turns to face his army, who are awaiting his commands. "Phoenixes, prepare to unleash the fire spells into the trees above the enemy army. Unicorns in front, dragons operating the catapults behind them. Gryphons will attack from above," Maximus says, crimson orbs focusing on each group as he issues their commands. His piercing gaze falls upon a group of highly ranked dragons. "Come with me into the depths of the forest. There, we will attempt a surprise attack." The group nods respectively. "You are dismissed. And remember well what I have taught you! Strength and honor!" Maximus says, motioning for the group of dragons to follow him. He turns, and begins to trot quickly into the forest, the dragons close on his heels.
***************************************************
Quintus makes a graceful landing, as always. "Load up the catapults! Form up for advance! Phoenixes ready!"
A particularly large phoenix carries a pot filled with oil a few meters above the ground. With skill, he turns it upside down and pours a straight line of oil on the frosty ground. A pale blue dragon opens her toothed mouth, her nostrils glowing a dull orange, and breathes a small blast of fire onto the shimmering line of oil. It ignites it immediately, and spreads throughout the trail. Some of the more powerfully-build dragons roll large rocks into the fire. The magic of dragonfire causes the rocks to ignite. With utmost caution, the dragon soldiers lift the rocks and load them onto the catapult.
***************************************************
"Three weeks from now, I will be harvesting my crops. Imagine where you will be, and it will be so! Hold the line! Stay with me! If you find yourself alone, flying over green fields with the sun in your face, do not be troubled! For you are in Elysium! And you're already dead!" Maximus shouts. The dragon warriors laugh half-heartedly. "Brothers," Maximus continues, "What we do in life...echoes in eternity!"
Maximus then rises on his two hind feet, points his draconic head to the sky, and lets a mighty, baritone roar spill out of his throat and spread into the darkness of the forest. The other soldiers echo the roar, and soon the whole forest is ringing with the sound of fierce roaring. Maximus hushes his roar to a low growl, and lowers himself back onto all fours. He stands without moving a muscle, waiting, watching, listening for the right moment to attack.
**************************************************
"Catapults ready, sir," A slender dragon shouts to Quintus.
"Phoenixes rise!" Quintus cries, after nodding at the dragon.
"Rise!" The army of firebirds echo to their comrades. A phoenix flaps his mighty wings, sending tendrils of sparks flying, and takes up. He soars over the treetops, up-up.... and with one giant flap of his dazzling wings, shoots a fireball down into the trees above the barbarian army. Many other phoenixes take off in the same manner, and fire their own crackling orbs of licking flames.
Quintus raises a claw-tipped paw into the air and signals the advance. The line of unicorns begins to more steadily forward.
***********************************************
Roaring their blood-curdling war cry, Maximus surges forward in a quick motion. The entire regiment of dragons takes up the growling cry and charges alongside him-building up speed.
They gallop straight at the wall of fire that was once the trees, hammering over the uneven ground at full gallop now. They slam into the flames, bursting out of them without a blackened scale.
"Hold the line! Stay with me!" Maximus shouts over the roaring of both the fire and the cavalry.
The Roman unicorns move forward in their lines, running the enemy through with their sharp horns that protrude from their foreheads. The Germans are fighting for their lives, doing terrible damage. The fight is turning into a muddy mutual slaughter.
Out of the flames bursts Maximus, in flight now, and his screaming cavalry. Germans turned terrified, caught between two walls of death. And the mighty dragons are upon them cutting them down with tooth and claw. The Germans fight fiercely, the wyvern leader knocks Maximus out of the sky with a terrible body blow. Maximus hits the ground with a sickening thud, and scrambles to his feet, blocking attacks from every direction, talons slashing wildly. Maximus is forced to the ground by a heavy blow to his chest.
The wyvern towers over him, hovering in the air. The pale gray creature smiles, and holds out his long, elegant arms in front of him. A shining light forms in his opened paws as he conjures a fire spell. His silvery eyes close as he focuses his mind into submitting energy to the spell. Suddenly, a black gryphon dive-bombs him, knocking him to the ground. The gryphon slashes the wyvern with talons and beak, warm, fresh blood spraying in all directions, coating Maximus with it and those around him. He continues his brutal offence until the wailing wyvern lays motionless, his life ended, and Maximus' spared.
The bloody massacre slowly dwindles down to nothing, with the last of the barbarians either fleeing into the woods or being killed brutally by a Roman. Dragon and phoenix fire illuminates the battlefield, filling it with an eerie glow.
Atop a hill, an old silver dragon, Marcus Aurelius, watches as the battle dies. He is relieved.
*****************************************************
Two shining figures slice the sky at a high altitude. Both are dragons, and both look weary from a long flight. The one is slightly larger than the other, mainly because it is a male. He is a deep purple that changes colors like oil if the light hits his scales just right. Finely polished jewels on golden chains are wrapped around his silver horns. Feathery antennas flutter and flap behind him. His paws are tucked under him in flight, and his large black wings are spread wide.
He adjusts his eyes on the female dragon gliding next to him. You could never tell that they were brother and sister just by looking at them, for the female is a pure, pearly white, with a creamy underside. The only thing similar about the two was their eyes-a mix of gray, green, and blue.
"Do you think he's really dying?" the male questions.
"He's been dying for ten years," the female replies without looking at her brother.
"If he weren't really dying, he wouldn't have sent for us."
The female now turns her head to look at her brother, smiling softly. "Maybe he just misses us."
"And the Senators? He wouldn't have sent for them if-"
"Peace, Commodus. After two weeks of tiring flight with little time to rest, your incessant scheming is making my scales even whiter," she says, still smiling warmly. Commodus chuckles lightly, eyes fixated upon his sister, Lucilla. He tilts his wings and flies a little closer to Lucilla. "He's made his decision. He's going to announce it," Commodus says, gently brushing his scales up against hers in a friendly manner. "He will name me. The first thing I shall do, is honor him with games worthy of his majesty."
"For now, the first thing I shall do, is have a hot bath," Lucilla replies, pulling her gaze away from Commodus and gazing downwards. Finally, Germania beings to fade into sight. She sighs in relief, straining her aching wings onward.
A few minutes later, Lucilla spots a small band of unicorns on the ground below, whinnying and neighing in order to get the two's attention.
"Shall we descend?" Commodus asks, wings folded slightly, ready to pull into a dive.
"Yes, please," Lucilla answers. Commodus pulls into a steep dive, soaring ahead of her, his ebony wings folded neatly along his sides. Lucilla follows his actions, and lands gracefully a few moments after him.
An amber unicorn approaches them both, bowing his head to the Emperor's children. "We're almost there, sire," he says to Commodus.
"Where's the emperor?" Commodus questions, a stern look upon his face.
"He's at the front sire. They've been gone for 19 days! The wounded is still coming in!"
Commodus glares coldly, and unfolds his wings. He nuzzles Lucilla affectionately, and takes off to the scene of battle.
*************************************************
Maximus sighs in relief, dropping his weight onto the frosty ground below. He is covered in mud, his own blood, and the wyvern's blood as well. The few scales that have not been covered in some substance stand out startlingly green in his new dull maroon and cinnamon coat. Weary ruby eyes focus on the clouded sky above him, flakes of snow now present in its dull grayness. The sun, no longer emitting its comforting heat, beats down on the muddy battle scene.
A large shadow suddenly engulfs Maximus. He snaps his gaze downward, only to find the Emperor of Rome himself looking down at him with kind blue eyes. Maximus leaps to his feet, and bows elegantly, spreading his wings slightly.
"You have proved your valor once again, Maximus," Marcus says, dusty silver scales shining in the cold light. "How can I award Rome's greatest General?"
Maximus bows his head. "Let me go home?" he asks, hopefully.
The kind-hearted old dragon nods, as Maximus thought he would. "Ah, home," he says warmly.
Commodus arrives on the scene, gold-painted talons crunching the frost beneath them. He stalks over to the top of a hill, and leans his head over the edge. He looks very vulture-like indeed, with his great black wings folded and raised above his head, talons digging into the cold earth beneath him. A low snarl escapes his mouth as he spots his father and the general walking side by side down the isle made by the cheering soldiers.
"They honor you, Caesar," Maximus says, grinning in Marcus' direction.
Marcus chuckles. "No, Maximus. They honor you!" He outstretches his arm, inviting Maximus to react to the crowd of hailing soldiers. Maximus rears, and unfolds his mighty green wings in victory. The soldiers cheer even louder.
The hawklike Commodus still watches from above, and finally decides to fly down to his father and the great general. He lands roughly, kicking up dirt that sails into Maximus' face. Commodus mumbles an apology, and walks right by Maximus without another word. He strides over to his father. "Have I missed it? Have I missed the battle?" he inquires. The two dragons embrace each other awkwardly.
"You have missed the war!" Marcus answers, looking his son over.
"Father, congratulations on your triumph. I honor you."
"Honor Maximus. He won the battle."
Commodus gives Maximus an oblique glance before turning to face him. He quickly embraces him, even more awkward."
"General," Commodus says quickly.
"Highness," Maximus replies.
"Rome salutes you. And I embrace you as a brother. 'Tis been too long, my old friend," Commodus says, grinning a grin that Maximus can see right through. He simply bows quickly.
Commodus walks back over to where his father stands, spike-tipped tail twitching irritably. "Follow me, father."
Marcus obligingly follows his son up the isle. After a few moments, he stops. "I think it is time for me to go," he says quickly, turning around and padding slowly off. He steps into flight, smiling down at Maximus while Commodus glares fiercely. Maximus follows his Emperor into the snow-kissed sky.
Quintus unfolds his mighty wings and flaps into the winter sky, kicking up clouds of stray dust as he does so. Maximus watches him rise, then turns to face the forest. The Darkness spell has worn off, and the immense army of barbarians can be seen through the mist. Their leader is obviously the wyvern-a large white creature that greatly resembles a dragon, minus the fact that it has no hind legs, just a whip like tail that spirals downwards. Even from this distance, Maximus can sense that this creature holds great power. Perhaps not brute strength, but very powerful magic, which can be just as dangerous. Maximus briefly wonders where the group of barbarians, consisting mostly of satyrs and gnomes, came up with this powerful being to be their leader.
Quickly shaking these thoughts out of his mind, Maximus turns to face his army, who are awaiting his commands. "Phoenixes, prepare to unleash the fire spells into the trees above the enemy army. Unicorns in front, dragons operating the catapults behind them. Gryphons will attack from above," Maximus says, crimson orbs focusing on each group as he issues their commands. His piercing gaze falls upon a group of highly ranked dragons. "Come with me into the depths of the forest. There, we will attempt a surprise attack." The group nods respectively. "You are dismissed. And remember well what I have taught you! Strength and honor!" Maximus says, motioning for the group of dragons to follow him. He turns, and begins to trot quickly into the forest, the dragons close on his heels.
***************************************************
Quintus makes a graceful landing, as always. "Load up the catapults! Form up for advance! Phoenixes ready!"
A particularly large phoenix carries a pot filled with oil a few meters above the ground. With skill, he turns it upside down and pours a straight line of oil on the frosty ground. A pale blue dragon opens her toothed mouth, her nostrils glowing a dull orange, and breathes a small blast of fire onto the shimmering line of oil. It ignites it immediately, and spreads throughout the trail. Some of the more powerfully-build dragons roll large rocks into the fire. The magic of dragonfire causes the rocks to ignite. With utmost caution, the dragon soldiers lift the rocks and load them onto the catapult.
***************************************************
"Three weeks from now, I will be harvesting my crops. Imagine where you will be, and it will be so! Hold the line! Stay with me! If you find yourself alone, flying over green fields with the sun in your face, do not be troubled! For you are in Elysium! And you're already dead!" Maximus shouts. The dragon warriors laugh half-heartedly. "Brothers," Maximus continues, "What we do in life...echoes in eternity!"
Maximus then rises on his two hind feet, points his draconic head to the sky, and lets a mighty, baritone roar spill out of his throat and spread into the darkness of the forest. The other soldiers echo the roar, and soon the whole forest is ringing with the sound of fierce roaring. Maximus hushes his roar to a low growl, and lowers himself back onto all fours. He stands without moving a muscle, waiting, watching, listening for the right moment to attack.
**************************************************
"Catapults ready, sir," A slender dragon shouts to Quintus.
"Phoenixes rise!" Quintus cries, after nodding at the dragon.
"Rise!" The army of firebirds echo to their comrades. A phoenix flaps his mighty wings, sending tendrils of sparks flying, and takes up. He soars over the treetops, up-up.... and with one giant flap of his dazzling wings, shoots a fireball down into the trees above the barbarian army. Many other phoenixes take off in the same manner, and fire their own crackling orbs of licking flames.
Quintus raises a claw-tipped paw into the air and signals the advance. The line of unicorns begins to more steadily forward.
***********************************************
Roaring their blood-curdling war cry, Maximus surges forward in a quick motion. The entire regiment of dragons takes up the growling cry and charges alongside him-building up speed.
They gallop straight at the wall of fire that was once the trees, hammering over the uneven ground at full gallop now. They slam into the flames, bursting out of them without a blackened scale.
"Hold the line! Stay with me!" Maximus shouts over the roaring of both the fire and the cavalry.
The Roman unicorns move forward in their lines, running the enemy through with their sharp horns that protrude from their foreheads. The Germans are fighting for their lives, doing terrible damage. The fight is turning into a muddy mutual slaughter.
Out of the flames bursts Maximus, in flight now, and his screaming cavalry. Germans turned terrified, caught between two walls of death. And the mighty dragons are upon them cutting them down with tooth and claw. The Germans fight fiercely, the wyvern leader knocks Maximus out of the sky with a terrible body blow. Maximus hits the ground with a sickening thud, and scrambles to his feet, blocking attacks from every direction, talons slashing wildly. Maximus is forced to the ground by a heavy blow to his chest.
The wyvern towers over him, hovering in the air. The pale gray creature smiles, and holds out his long, elegant arms in front of him. A shining light forms in his opened paws as he conjures a fire spell. His silvery eyes close as he focuses his mind into submitting energy to the spell. Suddenly, a black gryphon dive-bombs him, knocking him to the ground. The gryphon slashes the wyvern with talons and beak, warm, fresh blood spraying in all directions, coating Maximus with it and those around him. He continues his brutal offence until the wailing wyvern lays motionless, his life ended, and Maximus' spared.
The bloody massacre slowly dwindles down to nothing, with the last of the barbarians either fleeing into the woods or being killed brutally by a Roman. Dragon and phoenix fire illuminates the battlefield, filling it with an eerie glow.
Atop a hill, an old silver dragon, Marcus Aurelius, watches as the battle dies. He is relieved.
*****************************************************
Two shining figures slice the sky at a high altitude. Both are dragons, and both look weary from a long flight. The one is slightly larger than the other, mainly because it is a male. He is a deep purple that changes colors like oil if the light hits his scales just right. Finely polished jewels on golden chains are wrapped around his silver horns. Feathery antennas flutter and flap behind him. His paws are tucked under him in flight, and his large black wings are spread wide.
He adjusts his eyes on the female dragon gliding next to him. You could never tell that they were brother and sister just by looking at them, for the female is a pure, pearly white, with a creamy underside. The only thing similar about the two was their eyes-a mix of gray, green, and blue.
"Do you think he's really dying?" the male questions.
"He's been dying for ten years," the female replies without looking at her brother.
"If he weren't really dying, he wouldn't have sent for us."
The female now turns her head to look at her brother, smiling softly. "Maybe he just misses us."
"And the Senators? He wouldn't have sent for them if-"
"Peace, Commodus. After two weeks of tiring flight with little time to rest, your incessant scheming is making my scales even whiter," she says, still smiling warmly. Commodus chuckles lightly, eyes fixated upon his sister, Lucilla. He tilts his wings and flies a little closer to Lucilla. "He's made his decision. He's going to announce it," Commodus says, gently brushing his scales up against hers in a friendly manner. "He will name me. The first thing I shall do, is honor him with games worthy of his majesty."
"For now, the first thing I shall do, is have a hot bath," Lucilla replies, pulling her gaze away from Commodus and gazing downwards. Finally, Germania beings to fade into sight. She sighs in relief, straining her aching wings onward.
A few minutes later, Lucilla spots a small band of unicorns on the ground below, whinnying and neighing in order to get the two's attention.
"Shall we descend?" Commodus asks, wings folded slightly, ready to pull into a dive.
"Yes, please," Lucilla answers. Commodus pulls into a steep dive, soaring ahead of her, his ebony wings folded neatly along his sides. Lucilla follows his actions, and lands gracefully a few moments after him.
An amber unicorn approaches them both, bowing his head to the Emperor's children. "We're almost there, sire," he says to Commodus.
"Where's the emperor?" Commodus questions, a stern look upon his face.
"He's at the front sire. They've been gone for 19 days! The wounded is still coming in!"
Commodus glares coldly, and unfolds his wings. He nuzzles Lucilla affectionately, and takes off to the scene of battle.
*************************************************
Maximus sighs in relief, dropping his weight onto the frosty ground below. He is covered in mud, his own blood, and the wyvern's blood as well. The few scales that have not been covered in some substance stand out startlingly green in his new dull maroon and cinnamon coat. Weary ruby eyes focus on the clouded sky above him, flakes of snow now present in its dull grayness. The sun, no longer emitting its comforting heat, beats down on the muddy battle scene.
A large shadow suddenly engulfs Maximus. He snaps his gaze downward, only to find the Emperor of Rome himself looking down at him with kind blue eyes. Maximus leaps to his feet, and bows elegantly, spreading his wings slightly.
"You have proved your valor once again, Maximus," Marcus says, dusty silver scales shining in the cold light. "How can I award Rome's greatest General?"
Maximus bows his head. "Let me go home?" he asks, hopefully.
The kind-hearted old dragon nods, as Maximus thought he would. "Ah, home," he says warmly.
Commodus arrives on the scene, gold-painted talons crunching the frost beneath them. He stalks over to the top of a hill, and leans his head over the edge. He looks very vulture-like indeed, with his great black wings folded and raised above his head, talons digging into the cold earth beneath him. A low snarl escapes his mouth as he spots his father and the general walking side by side down the isle made by the cheering soldiers.
"They honor you, Caesar," Maximus says, grinning in Marcus' direction.
Marcus chuckles. "No, Maximus. They honor you!" He outstretches his arm, inviting Maximus to react to the crowd of hailing soldiers. Maximus rears, and unfolds his mighty green wings in victory. The soldiers cheer even louder.
The hawklike Commodus still watches from above, and finally decides to fly down to his father and the great general. He lands roughly, kicking up dirt that sails into Maximus' face. Commodus mumbles an apology, and walks right by Maximus without another word. He strides over to his father. "Have I missed it? Have I missed the battle?" he inquires. The two dragons embrace each other awkwardly.
"You have missed the war!" Marcus answers, looking his son over.
"Father, congratulations on your triumph. I honor you."
"Honor Maximus. He won the battle."
Commodus gives Maximus an oblique glance before turning to face him. He quickly embraces him, even more awkward."
"General," Commodus says quickly.
"Highness," Maximus replies.
"Rome salutes you. And I embrace you as a brother. 'Tis been too long, my old friend," Commodus says, grinning a grin that Maximus can see right through. He simply bows quickly.
Commodus walks back over to where his father stands, spike-tipped tail twitching irritably. "Follow me, father."
Marcus obligingly follows his son up the isle. After a few moments, he stops. "I think it is time for me to go," he says quickly, turning around and padding slowly off. He steps into flight, smiling down at Maximus while Commodus glares fiercely. Maximus follows his Emperor into the snow-kissed sky.