Koumajutsu
The Coming of Bagan
By C. L. Werner
Chapter V:
Curse of the Dragon
Slowly, they came. A few at first, then more and more. The survivors, a rabble of Afghans fortunate enough to have lived through the horror of Bagan's assault and the deadly attack from Perun's Axe. They came and they stood at the lip of the massive crater that now contained the pulsating, throbbing cocoon. They watched as the slimy, reddish-colored thing continued to swell. They watched and they prayed, as if they could buy their lives from the awful thing gestating within the cocoon with their pledges of devotion and servitude.
Kato sneered as he watched the pathetic rabble gather. He knew better. He knew that there was no living thing Bagan would spare, in the end. Certainly nothing that offered him the promise of power and nourishment. By praying to the dark evil within the crater, the fools were only honoring their own executioner.
Peter Daxton let his one good eye focus on the armed guards that flanked the members of the KNIFE team. When they had landed at Selgia's only modern airfield, the team had been met by a delegation from the ruling Princess Selina Salno herself. The armed guards were supposedly an honor guard, but Daxton's suspicious mind was always ready for any hint of danger or treachery.
Beside Daxton walked the aged wizard Hoichi, his white priest's robes billowing around him in the chill mountain breeze that wailed through the streets of the city. It seemed that the old Japanese man should have been frozen solid, but he seemed to not even notice the icy wind. Further evidence, the others in the group agreed, that there was such a thing as true magic.
The other three KNIFE members followed Daxton and Hoichi. Philip Roche, the French commando, had placed himself in a position from which he could quickly disarm the guards at the rear of the procession, though the Frenchman seemed much more relaxed than Daxton. Ken Yamane and Aaron Vaught both seemed utterly mesmerized by the ancient buildings of the city, their eyes and attention captivated by the weird architecture that had been old when the castles of Europe were new. That fascination only increased when they found themselves being conducted into the massive palace of Selgia's ruling family. A huge, almost monastic building, the palace had withstood the attentions of the Mongol hordes during the conquests of the Khans, and, if legend held truth, had even turned away the army of Alexander the Great. Yet, it was an elegant appearing structure, lacking the brutish grimness of most fortresses, almost a fairy tale castle in a fairy tale land.
The honor guard and their guide, the prime minister of Selgia, a portly Sherpa wearing a large fluffy frill around his neck, led their guests through the lavish halls and chambers of the palace until the group found themselves standing before the Princess herself in the ornately decorated throne room.
'On behalf of the people of Selgia, I welcome you to our land,' Princess Salno said, her voice stilted but not unfriendly.
'I could only wish that it were a less grim errand that caused us to accept your hospitality, your Highness,' responded Hoichi before Peter Daxton could speak. The old wizard bent nearly in half as he bowed before the seated royalty.
'Indeed,' said Princess Salno, her voice grave. 'The demon-beast Bagan has long haunted the legends and ancient history of my land.' The Princess licked her lips nervously. 'It is said that his awakening heralds the end of the world.'
'Not if we can stop him,' declared Daxton.
'And how would you do that?' asked Princess Salno, her tone like that of a parent reacting to some nonsense spoken by a child.
'That is what we have come here to find out,' Aaron Vaught addressed the ruler of Selgia, interposing himself between Daxton and the Princess. 'Very little is known of Bagan, even in the ancient texts and records available to us. We had hoped to see the site where he was imprisoned long ago, perhaps learn how he was contained and repeat that process.'
'Mr. Vaught,' Princess Salno smiled, 'it took seven great guardians to defeat this beast before, and four of them perished in the task. If the guardians could fall before this evil, what hope does poor mankind have? No, to visit the tomb of Bagan would avail you nothing. The past is the past.'
'But if we knew more about the ancient battle, perhaps we could awaken the surviving guardians, enlist their aid in defeating this demon a second time,' Aaron Vaught pressed his case.
'Or, on the more practical side, we could try to recreate the methods these guardians used to defeat Bagan,' Kenichi Yamane added.
Princess Salno was silent for a moment, deep in thought. At last, she nodded.
'You have come from very far away. You should not leave here without the knowledge which you seek.'
'Then you will allow us to journey to the Litze Valley?' asked Peter Daxton.
'No, such a trip will not be necessary,' declared Princess Salno. The Princess clapped her hands together. An ornate door was opened by one of her servants. Two figures entered the room. One was a haggard looking European. The other was slightly shorter and huskier, his face concealed within a fur-trimmed hood. 'Varga,' Princess Salno said, pointing at the shorter of the two figures, 'can tell you all that you need to know about the ancient battle that imprisoned Bagan. He has long been studying to become a Watchika, a protector of his people and as such knows much of their deadliest foe.'
Varga stepped forward, pulling back the fur-trimmed hood as he did so. Even Hoichi was shocked as the inhuman, hairy features of the yeti's face stood revealed. But the appearance of the yeti was far less amazing than the ancient tale he had been summoned to relate.
Moll and Lora stared down at the battered, ravaged form of Mothra. The two Cosmos choked back tears as they watched Mothra struggle to crawl away from the deep hole that housed Bagan's cocoon. Evil hung thick in the air and the moth goddess knew that in such a polluted environment, she would be unable to draw upon the energy of the earth to heal her wounds, to try and regain even a small measure of her strength. As it was, she was too weak even to fly. Every kilometer she crawled was agony, green pulp oozing from her severed leg.
'She is dying,' Moll said. 'She was too late, the demon was already too powerful for her to overcome.' Lora, standing beside her sister nodded gravely. The tiny Fairy Mothra chirrped sadly, seeming to share in the deity's pain.
'With her gone, how can Bagan be stopped this time?' Lora wondered. Suddenly, both Cosmos looked skyward. A small gray and black shape flitted through the dust-ridden sky. The shape drew closer, resolving itself into a bird-sized reptile, a tiny winged dragon. Garu-garu snorted and growled sullenly as the figure seated on his back kicked him and made him descend. The woman mounted on the pseudo-dragon was dressed in black, her face as hardened as it was beautiful.
'Cry for yourselves, not for Mothra,' sneered Belvera, the third Elias sister. 'Bagan will not spare anyone, in the end, not even fairies.' The impish Cosmo cackled with dark mirth.
'Must you add to the misery?' Moll shouted at the dark fairy. 'Is there not enough suffering here that you do not need to add any more?'
''What will we do?' Belvera mocked. 'Mothra can't stop Bagan now. You must forget about her!'
'How can you say such a thing!' gasped a horrified Lora.
'There are others that fought Bagan before, and survived,' Belvera said. 'You should seek their aid. Perhaps they would be able to stop Bagan in time. Already, Tuol has awakened. You must agree to release the other.'
'No,' declared Moll. 'He would be just as terrible as Bagan. Thousands would die if he was again set free!'
'Everything will die if Bagan is allowed to regain his soul, and this time nothing will be able to stop him.' Belvera glared at her sisters. 'You know what must be done. If some humans must die, then that is as it must be. If you try to save everyone, then they will all die.'
The Cosmos looked for a long time at the crippled, ravaged frame of Mothra. They stared at each other, sharing their thoughts. As one, they turned and faced Belvera.
'There is no other way,' Lora said. 'Even Mothra thinks so now.'
'We will go with you Belvera,' Moll added. 'We will help you undo the wards and seals. But once Bagan has been defeated, we will not rest until the monster is back in his cage.'
'I will look forward to that contest,' Belvera grinned as she kicked Garu-garu with her heels. The tiny dragon snarled and lifted into the air. The Cosmos watched as their wicked sister departed. Then, with resigned steps, they climbed onto the back of the Fairy Mothra. The little spirit creature rose into the sky and flew after Belvera's dragon.
The KNIFE members watched as Varga stood before them. Another yeti had appeared, a strange mandolin-like instrument clasped in his furred hands. As Varga spoke, he did so in the chirp-like language of the yeti, the other snowman strumming the instrument to emphasize the ancient stanzas of the legend. From her throne, Princess Salno translated the tale for her guests.
The time of change had come
The last age of magic
The end of the elder world
The first hour of man
The world was very different in that time between legend and history, between the age of sorcerers and the hour of science. Dark R'lyeh had long ago sunk into the depths, taking the starspawn and their grim god-priest into their timeless slumber. But other lands yet defied the sea. Atlantis, the flowering gem of the ancient world was still above the ocean waves, towers of marble reaching into the sky, a land of such advances in science and sorcery that were never known before or since. Lemuria was home to the thriving civilization of the Cosmos, starfaring wanderers who had been driven from their adopted home on Mars by King Ghidorah centuries ago. Mu dominated the Pacific, a great land ruled by philosophers and practicing a perfect harmony with all living things. But these were not the only nations in this world in transition. Already, the Atlantean colony in South America had broken away from its parent nation, though it had not yet truly evolved into the Inca
civilization. Powerful magicians had carved out a kingdom in the Nile Delta, a land called Egypt. In China, the oldest empire to ever flourish on the earth was already beginning to form as tiny villages and towns joined and merged to form cities and provinces.
But oldest of all these lands was the empire of the Meh-teh. Encompassing much of middle Asia, the Meh-teh would eventually be forgotten by man, lingering on only as legends, as Rakshasa, as werewolves and wildmen. In truth, the Meh-teh was the oldest terrestrial civilization, formed not by men, but by one of man's close relatives, creatures known to science as Gigantopithecus, but who called themselves the Yeti. Over the course of ages, the yeti had acquired considerable knowledge of the mystic arts, and had even catalogued the forbidden art of demon summoning, though they would never dare employ such vile sorcery.
There were older intelligences than the yeti. The dragons had long lingered upon the earth, providing future nations with countless legends and myths. Semi-spiritual beings, the dragons were fading into the realm of ghosts, forsaking the physical world for a higher existence. All save one.
From the east the great destroyer came
A soul of darkness blazing with the fury of a captured demon's might
The last of the dragons, but a dragon no more
Bagan, and with him walked doom.
Bagan ravaged the lands of the yeti, stalking amongst them as he had the lands of the first Chinese. Death followed his passing, misery hung about the demon-dragon like an aura of suffering, ruining whatever life it did not take with despair. The intent of the terrible dragon was not known, even to the few dragon spirits that deigned to commune with mortal minds. The seers and oracles of the Meh-teh and China were unable to learn what this great beast was or what its purpose might be. Then, from a far off land, there came a tiny priestess of the Cosmos race. Ordained by the temple of Mothra, the dark clad priestess was a servant of the Earth-spirit itself. It was she, and she alone, who had discovered the nature of the rampaging monster, and his purpose. The monster was bound for the roof of the world, to draw into himself the tremendous power of Death. If Bagan were to succeed in his dark purpose, all life on the planet would perish.
A council of war was hastily convened. The Meh-teh would send their protectors, the mighty Watchika, a breed of yeti who had, through spiritual means, become powerful giants, some fifty feet tall. The Watchika would strive to overcome and contain the great beast while the other lands of the Earth sent their own protectors to defeat the terrible dragon.
The Watchika climbed to heaven's door
Their thought to deny the demon his desire
Four score and five they fell upon him
Four score and five they died.
Bagan rose from the torn and ravaged remains of the Watchika, strips of their bloodied fur hanging from his claws. The malevolent beast almost seemed to laugh as he drank in their suffering, as the hell within him devoured their souls. The Watchika had thought to deny him, instead, their deaths had only hastened his ascension. A globe of swirling darkness appeared above the dragon's horned head. Bagan spread his crackling wings, grunting his terrible roar. Soon, soon he would have the power to annihilate the world, to consume every sentient soul on the planet, to savor their death and the torment of its advent.
Yet, even as his victory seemed assured, a powerful blazing ball of fire slammed into Bagan's rock-like shoulder. The force of it was enough to divert Bagan's attention from the growing sphere of darkness. The demon turned to see what foolish creature desired death.
There came from the west a mighty beast
With a roar that shook the mountains
Son of Atlantis, their noble champion
A heart of courage, the mark of hero
Kamerus
Bagan's eyes met the yellow orbs of a huge armored shape. Product of the greatest Atlantean genetic engineering, Kamerus had been designed as their guardian. Encased within a shell as hard as tempered oryhalcon, the monster was the very visage of the huge turtle the legends of Atlantis claimed supported their island upon the ocean's waves. A ridge of spikes surrounded the underside of the monster's shell, while his clawed arms and legs emerged from circular openings in the armor. Kamerus' head was perched atop a thick neck. Great horns jutted away from above Kamerus' eyes while his face was dominated by a savage beak.
Bagan roared again, even as Kamerus sent another fireball crashing into his chest. There was horror and the promise of death in that sound. It was a sound to test the courage of any being, be it god or monster. But Kamerus stood his ground, refusing to be intimidated, hissing his own rage at the wicked demon-dragon.
The horns on Bagan's head crackled with energy, the central horn beginning to blaze like an inferno. From the horn, a jagged dancing blast of lightning lashed out, searing Kamerus' arm and causing the giant turtle to cry out in pain. Bagan chortled and pressed the attack, striding towards Kamerus and away from the swirling darkness, all the while lashing at the turtle monster again and again with his lightning.
The deadly wrath of the aspect of the air element that had become a part of Bagan's corrupt form ravaged the body of Kamerus. The defender of Atlantis wailed in pain, slowly walking backwards, retreating away from the onslaught. Bagan savored the guardian's suffering, consuming it with relish and glee. Yes, he would make this creature suffer, this last victim before Bagan became the ultimate power on Earth.
And, as Kamerus withdrew still further from the oncoming Bagan, as he continued to blast the terrible beast with his ineffectual fireballs, so too did Bagan put more and more distance between himself and the swirling sphere of darkness the death of the Watchika had allowed the dragon to call. There was a purpose in Kamerus' retreat. But would the demon see through that purpose?
The East Wind tore across the mountains
With a shriek of rage and fury
Upon ebon wings of leather
Soran, the Thunder Bird, the phoenix
With the power of a hurricane, the wind slammed into Bagan's towering form as the giant Soran flew past him at a speed that blurred before the eye. The terrible slipstream sent boulders crashing down the slopes, but the tremendous mass of the demon-dragon was unmoved. The reptilian bird turned in mid-air, snarling at the demon, his fanged beak opened in a leering grimace, his scaly wings beating at the air furiously, trying in vain to unbalance Bagan. Bagan opened his great maw, displaying his own prodigious fangs and sent a blast of fiery destruction streaking at the Thunder Bird. Soran squawked in alarm, barely dodging the oncoming attack.
Bagan glared at his enemies, Kamerus and Soran. They would fall, even such mighty foes as these would not be enough to stop him from becoming the embodiment of death, from scouring the world of life. The Chinese wizards had thought to lend their aid to the cause, sending the great phoenix to ally with the giant turtle of Atlantis, but the mighty Bagan sneered at their efforts. Soon, those who had sent the guardians to subdue him would join their champions in the infernal cauldron of the demon's soul.
Bagan sent a steady stream of fire blasting at Soran and Kamerus, playing the current across the landscape, trying to catch both monsters in the gruesome destructive energy. The fire struck Kamerus, but the monster had already withdrawn into the safety of his tough, impenetrable shell. The scaly outer surface of the shell glowed red hot, but Bagan could not scorch the fragile flesh within. The angered demon began to stomp towards the besieged Kamerus.
Away from the blazing sands
Engulfed in a numberless swarm
Living plague of the sorcerers
Inagos, the Locust King
A living tide of tiny flying forms flew at the demon's head. The tiny locusts blinded Bagan's eyes, then swarmed into his nostrils, flew down his throat. The great dragon halted in his relentless attack, paused as the living plague denied him air, as the chittering mandibles of billions of insects tore at his soft innards. Some distance away, a huge being descended upon brilliant, transparent wings. Its shape was that of a mammoth, bloated locust, its abdomen tipped by a wicked stinger dripping an evil-seeming fluid, its head flat with great bulging eyes on either side, and fang-like barbs jutting before its snapping mandibles. The huge insect was the color of sand, stripes of black marking the chitinous hide like that of some immense tiger. Inagos landed beside the beleagered Kamerus and uttered its drone-like cry of defiance at the staggering Bagan.
For long moments, Bagan writhed, enduring the torment of the locust plague. The numberless legion did its work too well, ravaging the dragon's innards, driving him mad with pain. A great fire of anger blazed within Bagan, fury at his inability to escape his torment. The fire spread within him, incinerating the choking swarm. The wave of fire burned about Bagan like an aura, warping the air about him with its heat. Bagan snarled, spitting and snorting a mass of dust from his body, the ashes of Inagos' subjects.
Determined not to give the dragon a chance to recover, Soran dove at Bagan, hissing his cry of battle. Soran spat a bolt of sonic destruction at Bagan, a blast of power that shimmered in the air as it sped at the monster. The blast staggered Bagan, but did not penetrate his armor of stone. Soran continued downwards and Bagan answered the phoenix's challenge, opening his great maw and sending a wvae of fiery death at the oncoming Thunder Bird. The fire struck Soran's gaping jaws, tearing into the phoenix's body, burning through the guardian's innards until at last it erupted from the monster's back with the fury of a volcano. Soran toppled from the sky, his dying body slamming into the side of a nearby mountain. Bagan watched the dying creature fall, sending a second blast of fire to scorch the corpse as it fell.
Inagos and Kamerus took advantage of Soran's sacrifice, both guardians charging at Bagan while the demon was concentrating upon the Thunder Bird. Inagos struck Bagan in the back, the Locust King's stinger sinking deep into the demon's body, carrying with it the most potent venom the sorcerers of Egypt could devise. At the same time, Kamerus sent a steady stream of fireballs slamming into Bagan's horned head. The dragon roared in rage and pain, falling to the earth.
Kameus and Inagos watched as the horrific beast's body convulsed in spasms of agony, the Locust King's stinger still embedded in the demon, still pumping poison into the monster's veins. Never before had any foe lasted so long, never had any creature survived so much of the deadly venom being introduced to its body. The Locust King continued to pump venom into the dragon, until at last Inagos' poison glands were unable to produce any more. As the venom sacs emptied, Bagan grew still. Kamerus took a step towards the dragon, studying the demon's frozen face, lifeless eyes. It seemed the poison had been successful.
Armored eyelids snapped open as a clawed hand crackling with electrical energy slashed at Inagos' abdomen, separating the Locust King from that part of the insect still embedded in Bagan's body. Filthy ichor oozed from the hideous wound, ropes of pulpy organic matter streamed from the severed ends of Inagos' body. Before the pollution the dragon had invited into his soul, the dire poison of Inagos was nothing. So long as a steady stream of it had been pumped into Bagan's body, the dragon had been kept at bay. Now, there was nothing to hold him back.
Even as Inagos crawled from the mortal wound dealt to it by Bagan, Kamerus reeled from a point-blank blast of electrical energy. The scaly face of the giant turtle was burned, his sharp beak singed and charred. Kamerus roared, sending another fireball slamming into Bagan's head. The fireball exploded against the stone armor, but it was not enough. Bagan lashed at Kamerus with his long tail, its tip ending in a bladed cudgel. Under the tremendous impact, Kamerus was knocked down, falling upon his back, limbs flailing in utter helplessness. Bagan seemed to laugh as he leered at the stricken champion of Atlantis.
Death was in the air, and Bagan was its herald.
Over the ocean waves
From the land of fairies
Harbinger of peace and hope
Mothra
Mothra appeared over the edge of the mountains, sending bolts of energy searing at the demon as he loomed over the struggling Kamerus. The energy lanced into Bagan's body, dealing his corrupt form far more pain than had any of his previous foes. The dragon roared in wrath, spitting a great gout of fire and flame at Mothra. The gigantic insect, with her rainbow hued wings, dodged the brutal attack, again uttering her shriek of anger. Bagan leered at Mothra, then turned his horned face downwards, gazing at the still struggling Kamerus.
Bagan's claws gripped the edges of Kamerus' shell, top and bottom. The dragon looked again at the defiant Mothra, even as energy crackled about his claws. Mothra shrieked in horror as Kamerus' scream tore across the peaks, as Bagan ripped the shell apart, tearing the turtle from his armored hull. Kamerus flopped upon the ground, his naked, withered raw muscle gleaming in the sunlight. The intense agony of the turtle fed Bagan, filling his demonic soul with power. Again, Bagan roared his deep bellowing challenge at Mothra, promising the goddess a fate just as horrible.
The Coming of Bagan
By C. L. Werner
Chapter V:
Curse of the Dragon
Slowly, they came. A few at first, then more and more. The survivors, a rabble of Afghans fortunate enough to have lived through the horror of Bagan's assault and the deadly attack from Perun's Axe. They came and they stood at the lip of the massive crater that now contained the pulsating, throbbing cocoon. They watched as the slimy, reddish-colored thing continued to swell. They watched and they prayed, as if they could buy their lives from the awful thing gestating within the cocoon with their pledges of devotion and servitude.
Kato sneered as he watched the pathetic rabble gather. He knew better. He knew that there was no living thing Bagan would spare, in the end. Certainly nothing that offered him the promise of power and nourishment. By praying to the dark evil within the crater, the fools were only honoring their own executioner.
Peter Daxton let his one good eye focus on the armed guards that flanked the members of the KNIFE team. When they had landed at Selgia's only modern airfield, the team had been met by a delegation from the ruling Princess Selina Salno herself. The armed guards were supposedly an honor guard, but Daxton's suspicious mind was always ready for any hint of danger or treachery.
Beside Daxton walked the aged wizard Hoichi, his white priest's robes billowing around him in the chill mountain breeze that wailed through the streets of the city. It seemed that the old Japanese man should have been frozen solid, but he seemed to not even notice the icy wind. Further evidence, the others in the group agreed, that there was such a thing as true magic.
The other three KNIFE members followed Daxton and Hoichi. Philip Roche, the French commando, had placed himself in a position from which he could quickly disarm the guards at the rear of the procession, though the Frenchman seemed much more relaxed than Daxton. Ken Yamane and Aaron Vaught both seemed utterly mesmerized by the ancient buildings of the city, their eyes and attention captivated by the weird architecture that had been old when the castles of Europe were new. That fascination only increased when they found themselves being conducted into the massive palace of Selgia's ruling family. A huge, almost monastic building, the palace had withstood the attentions of the Mongol hordes during the conquests of the Khans, and, if legend held truth, had even turned away the army of Alexander the Great. Yet, it was an elegant appearing structure, lacking the brutish grimness of most fortresses, almost a fairy tale castle in a fairy tale land.
The honor guard and their guide, the prime minister of Selgia, a portly Sherpa wearing a large fluffy frill around his neck, led their guests through the lavish halls and chambers of the palace until the group found themselves standing before the Princess herself in the ornately decorated throne room.
'On behalf of the people of Selgia, I welcome you to our land,' Princess Salno said, her voice stilted but not unfriendly.
'I could only wish that it were a less grim errand that caused us to accept your hospitality, your Highness,' responded Hoichi before Peter Daxton could speak. The old wizard bent nearly in half as he bowed before the seated royalty.
'Indeed,' said Princess Salno, her voice grave. 'The demon-beast Bagan has long haunted the legends and ancient history of my land.' The Princess licked her lips nervously. 'It is said that his awakening heralds the end of the world.'
'Not if we can stop him,' declared Daxton.
'And how would you do that?' asked Princess Salno, her tone like that of a parent reacting to some nonsense spoken by a child.
'That is what we have come here to find out,' Aaron Vaught addressed the ruler of Selgia, interposing himself between Daxton and the Princess. 'Very little is known of Bagan, even in the ancient texts and records available to us. We had hoped to see the site where he was imprisoned long ago, perhaps learn how he was contained and repeat that process.'
'Mr. Vaught,' Princess Salno smiled, 'it took seven great guardians to defeat this beast before, and four of them perished in the task. If the guardians could fall before this evil, what hope does poor mankind have? No, to visit the tomb of Bagan would avail you nothing. The past is the past.'
'But if we knew more about the ancient battle, perhaps we could awaken the surviving guardians, enlist their aid in defeating this demon a second time,' Aaron Vaught pressed his case.
'Or, on the more practical side, we could try to recreate the methods these guardians used to defeat Bagan,' Kenichi Yamane added.
Princess Salno was silent for a moment, deep in thought. At last, she nodded.
'You have come from very far away. You should not leave here without the knowledge which you seek.'
'Then you will allow us to journey to the Litze Valley?' asked Peter Daxton.
'No, such a trip will not be necessary,' declared Princess Salno. The Princess clapped her hands together. An ornate door was opened by one of her servants. Two figures entered the room. One was a haggard looking European. The other was slightly shorter and huskier, his face concealed within a fur-trimmed hood. 'Varga,' Princess Salno said, pointing at the shorter of the two figures, 'can tell you all that you need to know about the ancient battle that imprisoned Bagan. He has long been studying to become a Watchika, a protector of his people and as such knows much of their deadliest foe.'
Varga stepped forward, pulling back the fur-trimmed hood as he did so. Even Hoichi was shocked as the inhuman, hairy features of the yeti's face stood revealed. But the appearance of the yeti was far less amazing than the ancient tale he had been summoned to relate.
Moll and Lora stared down at the battered, ravaged form of Mothra. The two Cosmos choked back tears as they watched Mothra struggle to crawl away from the deep hole that housed Bagan's cocoon. Evil hung thick in the air and the moth goddess knew that in such a polluted environment, she would be unable to draw upon the energy of the earth to heal her wounds, to try and regain even a small measure of her strength. As it was, she was too weak even to fly. Every kilometer she crawled was agony, green pulp oozing from her severed leg.
'She is dying,' Moll said. 'She was too late, the demon was already too powerful for her to overcome.' Lora, standing beside her sister nodded gravely. The tiny Fairy Mothra chirrped sadly, seeming to share in the deity's pain.
'With her gone, how can Bagan be stopped this time?' Lora wondered. Suddenly, both Cosmos looked skyward. A small gray and black shape flitted through the dust-ridden sky. The shape drew closer, resolving itself into a bird-sized reptile, a tiny winged dragon. Garu-garu snorted and growled sullenly as the figure seated on his back kicked him and made him descend. The woman mounted on the pseudo-dragon was dressed in black, her face as hardened as it was beautiful.
'Cry for yourselves, not for Mothra,' sneered Belvera, the third Elias sister. 'Bagan will not spare anyone, in the end, not even fairies.' The impish Cosmo cackled with dark mirth.
'Must you add to the misery?' Moll shouted at the dark fairy. 'Is there not enough suffering here that you do not need to add any more?'
''What will we do?' Belvera mocked. 'Mothra can't stop Bagan now. You must forget about her!'
'How can you say such a thing!' gasped a horrified Lora.
'There are others that fought Bagan before, and survived,' Belvera said. 'You should seek their aid. Perhaps they would be able to stop Bagan in time. Already, Tuol has awakened. You must agree to release the other.'
'No,' declared Moll. 'He would be just as terrible as Bagan. Thousands would die if he was again set free!'
'Everything will die if Bagan is allowed to regain his soul, and this time nothing will be able to stop him.' Belvera glared at her sisters. 'You know what must be done. If some humans must die, then that is as it must be. If you try to save everyone, then they will all die.'
The Cosmos looked for a long time at the crippled, ravaged frame of Mothra. They stared at each other, sharing their thoughts. As one, they turned and faced Belvera.
'There is no other way,' Lora said. 'Even Mothra thinks so now.'
'We will go with you Belvera,' Moll added. 'We will help you undo the wards and seals. But once Bagan has been defeated, we will not rest until the monster is back in his cage.'
'I will look forward to that contest,' Belvera grinned as she kicked Garu-garu with her heels. The tiny dragon snarled and lifted into the air. The Cosmos watched as their wicked sister departed. Then, with resigned steps, they climbed onto the back of the Fairy Mothra. The little spirit creature rose into the sky and flew after Belvera's dragon.
The KNIFE members watched as Varga stood before them. Another yeti had appeared, a strange mandolin-like instrument clasped in his furred hands. As Varga spoke, he did so in the chirp-like language of the yeti, the other snowman strumming the instrument to emphasize the ancient stanzas of the legend. From her throne, Princess Salno translated the tale for her guests.
The time of change had come
The last age of magic
The end of the elder world
The first hour of man
The world was very different in that time between legend and history, between the age of sorcerers and the hour of science. Dark R'lyeh had long ago sunk into the depths, taking the starspawn and their grim god-priest into their timeless slumber. But other lands yet defied the sea. Atlantis, the flowering gem of the ancient world was still above the ocean waves, towers of marble reaching into the sky, a land of such advances in science and sorcery that were never known before or since. Lemuria was home to the thriving civilization of the Cosmos, starfaring wanderers who had been driven from their adopted home on Mars by King Ghidorah centuries ago. Mu dominated the Pacific, a great land ruled by philosophers and practicing a perfect harmony with all living things. But these were not the only nations in this world in transition. Already, the Atlantean colony in South America had broken away from its parent nation, though it had not yet truly evolved into the Inca
civilization. Powerful magicians had carved out a kingdom in the Nile Delta, a land called Egypt. In China, the oldest empire to ever flourish on the earth was already beginning to form as tiny villages and towns joined and merged to form cities and provinces.
But oldest of all these lands was the empire of the Meh-teh. Encompassing much of middle Asia, the Meh-teh would eventually be forgotten by man, lingering on only as legends, as Rakshasa, as werewolves and wildmen. In truth, the Meh-teh was the oldest terrestrial civilization, formed not by men, but by one of man's close relatives, creatures known to science as Gigantopithecus, but who called themselves the Yeti. Over the course of ages, the yeti had acquired considerable knowledge of the mystic arts, and had even catalogued the forbidden art of demon summoning, though they would never dare employ such vile sorcery.
There were older intelligences than the yeti. The dragons had long lingered upon the earth, providing future nations with countless legends and myths. Semi-spiritual beings, the dragons were fading into the realm of ghosts, forsaking the physical world for a higher existence. All save one.
From the east the great destroyer came
A soul of darkness blazing with the fury of a captured demon's might
The last of the dragons, but a dragon no more
Bagan, and with him walked doom.
Bagan ravaged the lands of the yeti, stalking amongst them as he had the lands of the first Chinese. Death followed his passing, misery hung about the demon-dragon like an aura of suffering, ruining whatever life it did not take with despair. The intent of the terrible dragon was not known, even to the few dragon spirits that deigned to commune with mortal minds. The seers and oracles of the Meh-teh and China were unable to learn what this great beast was or what its purpose might be. Then, from a far off land, there came a tiny priestess of the Cosmos race. Ordained by the temple of Mothra, the dark clad priestess was a servant of the Earth-spirit itself. It was she, and she alone, who had discovered the nature of the rampaging monster, and his purpose. The monster was bound for the roof of the world, to draw into himself the tremendous power of Death. If Bagan were to succeed in his dark purpose, all life on the planet would perish.
A council of war was hastily convened. The Meh-teh would send their protectors, the mighty Watchika, a breed of yeti who had, through spiritual means, become powerful giants, some fifty feet tall. The Watchika would strive to overcome and contain the great beast while the other lands of the Earth sent their own protectors to defeat the terrible dragon.
The Watchika climbed to heaven's door
Their thought to deny the demon his desire
Four score and five they fell upon him
Four score and five they died.
Bagan rose from the torn and ravaged remains of the Watchika, strips of their bloodied fur hanging from his claws. The malevolent beast almost seemed to laugh as he drank in their suffering, as the hell within him devoured their souls. The Watchika had thought to deny him, instead, their deaths had only hastened his ascension. A globe of swirling darkness appeared above the dragon's horned head. Bagan spread his crackling wings, grunting his terrible roar. Soon, soon he would have the power to annihilate the world, to consume every sentient soul on the planet, to savor their death and the torment of its advent.
Yet, even as his victory seemed assured, a powerful blazing ball of fire slammed into Bagan's rock-like shoulder. The force of it was enough to divert Bagan's attention from the growing sphere of darkness. The demon turned to see what foolish creature desired death.
There came from the west a mighty beast
With a roar that shook the mountains
Son of Atlantis, their noble champion
A heart of courage, the mark of hero
Kamerus
Bagan's eyes met the yellow orbs of a huge armored shape. Product of the greatest Atlantean genetic engineering, Kamerus had been designed as their guardian. Encased within a shell as hard as tempered oryhalcon, the monster was the very visage of the huge turtle the legends of Atlantis claimed supported their island upon the ocean's waves. A ridge of spikes surrounded the underside of the monster's shell, while his clawed arms and legs emerged from circular openings in the armor. Kamerus' head was perched atop a thick neck. Great horns jutted away from above Kamerus' eyes while his face was dominated by a savage beak.
Bagan roared again, even as Kamerus sent another fireball crashing into his chest. There was horror and the promise of death in that sound. It was a sound to test the courage of any being, be it god or monster. But Kamerus stood his ground, refusing to be intimidated, hissing his own rage at the wicked demon-dragon.
The horns on Bagan's head crackled with energy, the central horn beginning to blaze like an inferno. From the horn, a jagged dancing blast of lightning lashed out, searing Kamerus' arm and causing the giant turtle to cry out in pain. Bagan chortled and pressed the attack, striding towards Kamerus and away from the swirling darkness, all the while lashing at the turtle monster again and again with his lightning.
The deadly wrath of the aspect of the air element that had become a part of Bagan's corrupt form ravaged the body of Kamerus. The defender of Atlantis wailed in pain, slowly walking backwards, retreating away from the onslaught. Bagan savored the guardian's suffering, consuming it with relish and glee. Yes, he would make this creature suffer, this last victim before Bagan became the ultimate power on Earth.
And, as Kamerus withdrew still further from the oncoming Bagan, as he continued to blast the terrible beast with his ineffectual fireballs, so too did Bagan put more and more distance between himself and the swirling sphere of darkness the death of the Watchika had allowed the dragon to call. There was a purpose in Kamerus' retreat. But would the demon see through that purpose?
The East Wind tore across the mountains
With a shriek of rage and fury
Upon ebon wings of leather
Soran, the Thunder Bird, the phoenix
With the power of a hurricane, the wind slammed into Bagan's towering form as the giant Soran flew past him at a speed that blurred before the eye. The terrible slipstream sent boulders crashing down the slopes, but the tremendous mass of the demon-dragon was unmoved. The reptilian bird turned in mid-air, snarling at the demon, his fanged beak opened in a leering grimace, his scaly wings beating at the air furiously, trying in vain to unbalance Bagan. Bagan opened his great maw, displaying his own prodigious fangs and sent a blast of fiery destruction streaking at the Thunder Bird. Soran squawked in alarm, barely dodging the oncoming attack.
Bagan glared at his enemies, Kamerus and Soran. They would fall, even such mighty foes as these would not be enough to stop him from becoming the embodiment of death, from scouring the world of life. The Chinese wizards had thought to lend their aid to the cause, sending the great phoenix to ally with the giant turtle of Atlantis, but the mighty Bagan sneered at their efforts. Soon, those who had sent the guardians to subdue him would join their champions in the infernal cauldron of the demon's soul.
Bagan sent a steady stream of fire blasting at Soran and Kamerus, playing the current across the landscape, trying to catch both monsters in the gruesome destructive energy. The fire struck Kamerus, but the monster had already withdrawn into the safety of his tough, impenetrable shell. The scaly outer surface of the shell glowed red hot, but Bagan could not scorch the fragile flesh within. The angered demon began to stomp towards the besieged Kamerus.
Away from the blazing sands
Engulfed in a numberless swarm
Living plague of the sorcerers
Inagos, the Locust King
A living tide of tiny flying forms flew at the demon's head. The tiny locusts blinded Bagan's eyes, then swarmed into his nostrils, flew down his throat. The great dragon halted in his relentless attack, paused as the living plague denied him air, as the chittering mandibles of billions of insects tore at his soft innards. Some distance away, a huge being descended upon brilliant, transparent wings. Its shape was that of a mammoth, bloated locust, its abdomen tipped by a wicked stinger dripping an evil-seeming fluid, its head flat with great bulging eyes on either side, and fang-like barbs jutting before its snapping mandibles. The huge insect was the color of sand, stripes of black marking the chitinous hide like that of some immense tiger. Inagos landed beside the beleagered Kamerus and uttered its drone-like cry of defiance at the staggering Bagan.
For long moments, Bagan writhed, enduring the torment of the locust plague. The numberless legion did its work too well, ravaging the dragon's innards, driving him mad with pain. A great fire of anger blazed within Bagan, fury at his inability to escape his torment. The fire spread within him, incinerating the choking swarm. The wave of fire burned about Bagan like an aura, warping the air about him with its heat. Bagan snarled, spitting and snorting a mass of dust from his body, the ashes of Inagos' subjects.
Determined not to give the dragon a chance to recover, Soran dove at Bagan, hissing his cry of battle. Soran spat a bolt of sonic destruction at Bagan, a blast of power that shimmered in the air as it sped at the monster. The blast staggered Bagan, but did not penetrate his armor of stone. Soran continued downwards and Bagan answered the phoenix's challenge, opening his great maw and sending a wvae of fiery death at the oncoming Thunder Bird. The fire struck Soran's gaping jaws, tearing into the phoenix's body, burning through the guardian's innards until at last it erupted from the monster's back with the fury of a volcano. Soran toppled from the sky, his dying body slamming into the side of a nearby mountain. Bagan watched the dying creature fall, sending a second blast of fire to scorch the corpse as it fell.
Inagos and Kamerus took advantage of Soran's sacrifice, both guardians charging at Bagan while the demon was concentrating upon the Thunder Bird. Inagos struck Bagan in the back, the Locust King's stinger sinking deep into the demon's body, carrying with it the most potent venom the sorcerers of Egypt could devise. At the same time, Kamerus sent a steady stream of fireballs slamming into Bagan's horned head. The dragon roared in rage and pain, falling to the earth.
Kameus and Inagos watched as the horrific beast's body convulsed in spasms of agony, the Locust King's stinger still embedded in the demon, still pumping poison into the monster's veins. Never before had any foe lasted so long, never had any creature survived so much of the deadly venom being introduced to its body. The Locust King continued to pump venom into the dragon, until at last Inagos' poison glands were unable to produce any more. As the venom sacs emptied, Bagan grew still. Kamerus took a step towards the dragon, studying the demon's frozen face, lifeless eyes. It seemed the poison had been successful.
Armored eyelids snapped open as a clawed hand crackling with electrical energy slashed at Inagos' abdomen, separating the Locust King from that part of the insect still embedded in Bagan's body. Filthy ichor oozed from the hideous wound, ropes of pulpy organic matter streamed from the severed ends of Inagos' body. Before the pollution the dragon had invited into his soul, the dire poison of Inagos was nothing. So long as a steady stream of it had been pumped into Bagan's body, the dragon had been kept at bay. Now, there was nothing to hold him back.
Even as Inagos crawled from the mortal wound dealt to it by Bagan, Kamerus reeled from a point-blank blast of electrical energy. The scaly face of the giant turtle was burned, his sharp beak singed and charred. Kamerus roared, sending another fireball slamming into Bagan's head. The fireball exploded against the stone armor, but it was not enough. Bagan lashed at Kamerus with his long tail, its tip ending in a bladed cudgel. Under the tremendous impact, Kamerus was knocked down, falling upon his back, limbs flailing in utter helplessness. Bagan seemed to laugh as he leered at the stricken champion of Atlantis.
Death was in the air, and Bagan was its herald.
Over the ocean waves
From the land of fairies
Harbinger of peace and hope
Mothra
Mothra appeared over the edge of the mountains, sending bolts of energy searing at the demon as he loomed over the struggling Kamerus. The energy lanced into Bagan's body, dealing his corrupt form far more pain than had any of his previous foes. The dragon roared in wrath, spitting a great gout of fire and flame at Mothra. The gigantic insect, with her rainbow hued wings, dodged the brutal attack, again uttering her shriek of anger. Bagan leered at Mothra, then turned his horned face downwards, gazing at the still struggling Kamerus.
Bagan's claws gripped the edges of Kamerus' shell, top and bottom. The dragon looked again at the defiant Mothra, even as energy crackled about his claws. Mothra shrieked in horror as Kamerus' scream tore across the peaks, as Bagan ripped the shell apart, tearing the turtle from his armored hull. Kamerus flopped upon the ground, his naked, withered raw muscle gleaming in the sunlight. The intense agony of the turtle fed Bagan, filling his demonic soul with power. Again, Bagan roared his deep bellowing challenge at Mothra, promising the goddess a fate just as horrible.