Chapter 18 – Darkening Days
-.-.-.-.-.
For the city of Dundorma, the night couldn't have been any more peaceful. The sky was clear, as it usually was, allowing the stars to sparkle down from on high without obstruction. The wind whistled softly as it blew over the high walls surrounding the serene settlement, giving the night a calming, if slightly spooky, music.
Yes, it was an ordinary night in the city of Dundorma.
That is, until the ground began to shake. It wasn't as violent or destructive as a full-blown earthquake. Rather, each tremor was short and measured, a series of distant *throom* sounds that repeated at an easygoing pace. Puddles of water that lay on the ground after a recent sprinkling of rain began to ripple with each quake.
In a world where it was not uncommon to encounter monsters the size of a small building, anyone that heard the approaching sound could easily identify it as the sound of footsteps. But there was no monster to be seen anywhere in Dundorma – meaning that the coming threat was elsewhere, and if its footfalls caused tremors that could be felt from within the city walls, then it was massive.
The Guild soldiers stationed in and around the Elder Hall certainly seemed to think so. Inside the magnificent building, the clattering of armored feet on the pristine tiled floors could be heard up and down the corridors. The blue-and-red-clad soldiers spilled from various side corridors as they headed down the main hallway, which was the quickest and most direct route to the town's central plaza. From there, it was a short walk through the gates and into the Battlequarters, to which they were trained to head immediately at the slightest suspicion of an approaching threat.
Some of these Guild soldiers had been stationed inside the throne room, which was located at the very back of the Elder Hall (but who cares about the building's blueprints anyway). The sounds of their metal-sheathed feet on the floor woke the giant Wyverian mayor of Dundorma, whom had never been seen away from his throne in all his time of rule.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded of the leaving guards, his gruff voice carrying the wisdom of a thousand years.
"Tremors, Your Immenseness!" one soldier reported immediately. He turned ridiculously quick, his Lance suddenly held upright, his back held just as straight. "There may be a large monster approaching. We are heading to the Battlequarters as per standard protocol."
His Immenseness' head bobbed slightly. "Very well. Only remember, we are no longer at war with the monsters. You are not to attack unless you feel it is absolutely necessary."
As eternally devoted to the Elder Hall and its master as he had been trained to be, the soldier saluted. "Yes, Your Immenseness!" he obeyed, and rushed out of the hall.
The Battlequarters had deliberately been built very close to the Elder Hall. It was only the wise thing to do, since although the soldiers could usually take on attacking monsters by themselves, the Battlequarters was the only real defense the city had against elder dragons. With its high stone walls and powerful weapons, it had proven time and time again to be one of the most effective dragon-repelling facilities on the entire Great Continent. That was saying something, especially when the cities in the Frontier region had to put up with powerhouses such as Rukodioras and Harudomerugus, both of which could have probably eaten a Nameless region-native Teostra for breakfast.
Since the war was over, the Battlequarters hadn't seen much action in a while. However, His Immenseness had ordered that the area and its dragon-slaying weaponry be kept in good condition at all times. This may have seemed like a simple safety precaution to everyone else, but the giant Wyverian elder had a much darker reason for ordering it, one that he kept to himself. Ever since the war ended, he had been having the most disturbing dreams…
Within minutes, the Battlequarters was swarming with activity. Guards from all over Dundorma held their Lances aloft and stood ramrod-straight at their designated positions as they had done a thousand times before during their training. This time, however, it was no drill. This time, they might actually need to defend their beloved city.
Throom… throom…
The low booming sounds of the unknown monster's footfalls kept coming, neither speeding up nor slowing down. They kept the same easygoing pace, a steady beat that was as ominous as it was simple. More than a few of the soldiers holding their weapons at the ready or manning the ballistae felt sweat beading on their foreheads and necks.
It took an agonizingly long time for the monster to show itself. The tension weighed tremendously heavy in the air, so thick that one could have cut it with a knife and put it in a sandwich. When the monster did arrive, the soldiers were actually trembling due to how stiffly they were holding their bodies.
No one could identify the beast when it first rounded the corner and lumbered into the Battlequarters. It was entirely cloaked by a dense black fog that obscured its physical features. Not even its movements were completely clear – all the soldiers could see that it was moving forward. The sharp stench of crude oil started to saturate the otherwise brisk night air. And the closer the unknown creature lumbered, the more apparent its size became. None of the soldiers present could ever recall seeing a monster quite this big.
It stopped when it had reached the middle of the Battlequarters. Beneath the dark fog it hid under, its head slowly swung one way and then the other, observing its surroundings. The guards didn't know what to do, and tightened the grips they had on their Lances and ballista mechanisms.
There was an incredibly slow and loud groaning noise as the Demolisher was lowered, its gaping barrel pointing directly at the mysterious invader. It raised its head high, neck twisted slightly so that it could look over its shoulder at the giant cannon.
But nothing happened. The Demolisher wouldn't be used – yet.
Another groan creaked across the silence that the activation of the Demolisher had left in its wake, organic and not mechanical. The monster was making that sound as it grew taller, its head rising higher and higher above the ground until it was even higher than the Battlequarters walls. The soldiers were flabbergasted – despite the walls having been built to rival even an Akantor in height, the dark beast still managed to clear them by at least twenty feet.
Slowly, the black fog cleared away from the monster, allowing the soldiers to get a clearer look at it. It was a black-blue color and covered in a slimy coat of oil that continuously dripped from its hide and onto the ground underneath it. Its back was a forest of metal spikes, and its muzzle could be best described as a giant axe with a mouth underneath. It was standing on its hind legs, using its thick tail for support while its forelimbs hung uselessly at its sides. Another, much larger, pair of arms sprouted from its sides and dug their talons into the soil.
Neither side did anything at first. The soldiers held their ground defiantly, and the monster just stood there, waiting.
Then, the monster let out a huff. With an immense groan, it lowered itself back onto all fours with a tremor that shook the Battlequarters. Almost casually, it raised one of its extra arms and plowed through the eastern wall, scattering bricks and the rubble of bricks everywhere. Using the same arm it had used to take down the wall, it reached inside and scooped out dozens upon dozens of large barrels.
Those barrels, the Guild soldiers all knew, were the city's gunpowder supply. That, plus the nearly overwhelming stench of oil and the memories of the stories told to them by their grandparents, left them with no doubt in their minds that this wasn't a new adversary – it was an old foe, up to its old tricks.
"Fire ballistae!" shouted the highest-ranking guard, denoted by how his Lance was gold rather than silver and how his uniform was purple-and-yellow rather than blue-and-red. "Lancers at the ready, and prepare the Demolisher!"
Immediately, the deafening sound of several ballistae being fired together tore through the air. Arrows as long as a person was tall whistled through the air and stuck to Gogmazios' skin before exploding in small bursts of smoke and flame. The elder dragon cringed and let out a sound that was half-roar and half-yelp, wood splinters and gunpowder falling from the sides of its mouth as it turned away from its feast.
Another round of ballista fire came all at once, this time striking Gogmazios' neck and shoulder regions. The stinging arrows and small explosions hurt enough to provoke a bellow of pain, the noise like the tolling of a bell. It reared up onto its hind legs, only to receive another volley of ballista arrows to the chest.
Louder than before, Gogmazios let out a groaning roar, throwing its head back far enough for the soldiers to see the glowing marks on its lower jaw.
Most of the Guild warriors had to clamp their hands over their ears in an attempt to block out the worst of the din, but the sheer volume made their heads pound fiercely. The lead soldier, though, had the foresight to have invested in built-in earplugs, which deadened the noise a little. While the others were cowering in their steely boots, he stood tall and gave his next order.
"Demolisher, fire!" he commanded.
Somehow, as Gogmazios slowly settled down, the man at the Demolisher's controls heard his superior way over on the opposite wall. His face set determinedly, he grabbed the sturdy pickaxe lying on its side near the activation button and wrapped his fingers around the handle as tightly as he could. Heaving the heavy tool over his head with a mighty (and certainly dramatic) yell, he struck the central button with all his strength.
There was a *clang* as the pickaxe made contact and a loud *clunk* as the button reacted. The ground seemed to shake as the giant super-weapon was activated, the shaking quickly growing in intensity until a gigantic blast of red-black Dragon-element energy was ejected from the barrel with a tremendously loud blast.
No-one heard the projectile burst apart to send its destructive energies spreading out over Gogmazios' body, because Gogmazios did a great job of drowning it out.
"DRRRAAAAAAAAYYYYYRR!" the great black monster tolled.
Its cry of pain was so great that it sounded like it was tearing its own throat apart. The sheer volume made the air around the Battlequarters vibrate. Even the lead soldier with the golden Lance couldn't help but duck his head and tremble as his eardrums felt like they were going to rupture at any second.
Its eyes burning bright red with pain and rage, Gogmazios recovered from the Demolisher's blast and spread its previously-hidden wings. The great, tattered sails fanned wide, splattering miniscule droplets of oil all over. Despite its immense bulk, Gogmazios lurched clumsily into the air until it was far above the soldiers' heads. As one, they craned their necks until they couldn't crane them any farther in an attempt to keep their sights on the beast. Its dripping black hide blended in well with the night sky, but the heavy chopping of its wings beating at the air couldn't be missed.
Then a yellow-red glow lit up the night, and a sharp hissing sound pierced the guards' ears.
Accompanied by the horrific, oppressive smell of burning oil, a jet of glowing liquid streamed from the Gogmazios' gaping jaws. The stuff was dark in color, but still radiated an intense orange light that gave it a strange contrast. It pooled thickly over the Battlequarters walls and floor, piling up and filling the area with an intense heat. Combined with the smell, the temperature increased to the point where breathing was barely possible.
The lead soldier began to order, "Take cov–"
DWOOOOOOOOOOM!
The molten oil exploded violently, leaving nothing behind but a red haze in the air around its blast radius. Anyone unfortunate enough to be caught within said radius was incinerated, blown to pieces, thrown off the walls to their deaths, or all of the above. The shockwave generated by the explosion was like a fierce gust of blistering wind.
But Gogmazios wasn't done. It was turning this way and that, its wild midair thrashes fueled by anger and pain. Oil still blasted from its maw, covering the Battlequarters in glowing puddles. The surviving guards all took cover behind anything they could find, right before the explosions started.
DWOOM! DWOOMDWOOM! DWOOM! DWOOMDWOOMDWOOM!
Piles of volatile liquid detonating one after the other made the Battlequarters rock back and forth like it was being shaken by an earthquake. Eyelids were squeezed shut and prayers were silently uttered amongst the chaos.
"DRAAAAAAYYYYRR!" roared the Gogmazios when it was finished. Its wings ceased to beat, leaving its entire body to plummet to the ground feet-first.
That was when the lead Guild soldier looked up at the dark sky and saw two shapes, blacker than the night. From the way they gradually got larger, he presumed that they were heading toward the Battlequarters. Attracted by the sounds and presence of the Gogmazios, the two shapes grew close enough for the Guild soldiers to see their hard carapaces and silky wings gleaming in the limited light.
A horrid scream came from the newly-arrived monsters. "CHAAAAAAAAHHH!"
For all to hear, a soldier shouted the creature's name as a warning. "Gore Magala!"
The plague-bringing dragons landed on the walls, scattering the surviving guards. Their eyeless heads swung from side to side, apparently scanning the area with whatever senses they had. Their cloak-like wings were draped over their bodies, fluttering in the wind and emitting small wisps of black mist.
Although he would never admit it, a cold chill went up the spine of the guard with the golden Lance and unique uniform. Gore Magalas had been native to the Nameless region for as far back as anyone could remember, but a rare and strange variety called Shagaru Magala had spawned at the Sanctuary a year after the Day of Destruction. Ever since, the Magala family had become associated with the disastrous incident.
Just as with Gogmazios, the lead soldier realized. He stole a glance at the much bigger monster, who was lumbering away with its back turned. If Gogmazios appeared after the Day of Destruction, and Gore Magalas have followed it here today… what does this mean?
Multiple glints of moonlight over polished steel flashed in the night as those survivors of Gogmazios' assault raised their Lances. With a united battle cry that could make all but the deadliest of monsters think twice, the Guild soldiers charged into the fray, ready to pierce the hides of the Gore Magalas.
But none got the chance. One Gore spread its wings and launched itself vertically into the air, knocking several guards off balance with a fierce gust of wind. The black monster swooped back down with claws reaching forward to grab. The second Gore knocked away its attackers with its tail and wingarms, then did precisely what its twin had done.
And then, incredibly, it was all over.
The Gogmazios was leaving, its tail the only thing visible as it slunk away in the direction it had come. The Gore Magalas flapped their wings silently while uttering the occasional growl or scream. Each monster carried with them two flailing Guild soldiers, one in their front claws and one in between their jaws. The lead Guild soldier and his remaining company could only let their weapons fall as they watched the monsters retreat with their captives, as suddenly as they had invaded.
Gogmazios must have come to steal gunpowder again, he deduced. But the Gore Magalas… they've never been seen near here. And they took some of my men with them… what for?
His face like stone, he turned to his subordinates and commanded, "Retrieve what remains of the gunpowder and make sure it's locked up tight. I'm going straight to His Immenseness to report this… disturbing news."
-.-.-.-.-.
Avari, Spirit of Greed, the most ambitious and dashing of the Seven Deadly Sins (no matter how many times Superbius claimed otherwise), had a problem.
A very big problem.
Immediately after talking with Gulo on the other spirit's way to Port Tanzia, Avari had to fly all the way to the Sky Corridor. It was a journey that took the entire rest of the day and almost the whole night, even in the form he had shifted to, that of a powerful Alatreon. By the time the towering obelisk loomed out of the fog on the horizon in the middle of the ocean, his wings were aching and he was half-asleep. Flying over half of the Great Continent, and then some, really did a number on you.
Just a bit further, the spirit thought in relief, forcing his wings to beat faster. It's in sight, at least, just a bit further…
He let his body start to relax just as he began to pass over the island on which the Sky Corridor was built. A second later…
WHAM!
He got a very rude wake-up call.
Avari had flown head-first into a giant invisible barrier. A white ripple spread out from where his body slammed into the force field, momentarily exposing the field's composition of shimmering blue energy. Then, when the ripple faded, the whole thing went back to being invisible again.
Slowly, Avari slid down the barrier, too stunned to move. Almost as if the universe was mocking him, there was a drawn-out squeak as he slipped downwards like a dead bird on a window.
Finally, he detached from the force field and fell the last twenty feet onto the one part of the island that he was able to set foot on, which was a miserable little peninsula that was barely big enough for him to stand on in his Alatreon form. Groaning, the black dragon staggered to his feet and ducked his head so he could rub it with a talon.
It may have been part of the splitting headache he was just now developing, but Avari could have sworn he heard approaching wingbeats. Although doubtful, his suspicions were confirmed when he noticed a gleaming gold dragon flying towards him from the direction of the Sky Corridor. At the sight of the magnificent creature, he felt a stab of envy – no monster should be so extravagantly festooned except him. He'd make sure to find a way to color his own scales gold when the Sins had triumphed.
The elder dragon landed close by, but on the other side of the barrier. Now Avari could see, despite the motes of light that were still swimming in his vision, that it was not only covered in gold, but also had pure white crystals jutting from its head and wings.
"Are you alright?" the Garuba Daora asked, tilting his head to observe him. "I saw the barrier react and thought I should check it out. You flew right into it, didn't you?"
"Yes…" Avari reluctantly muttered.
Now he knew how Superbius felt when someone stabbed at his pride.
Once he had managed to collect his scattered thoughts and stand up without getting dizzy, he said, "Thank you for your concern."
"Oh, it's no problem," replied the Garuba, waving a talon nonchalantly. "It's my job to keep watch over this island. You know, in case someone tries to steal the secrets that the Ancients left behind."
Avari mulled that over. It made sense. The White Fatalis didn't want a repeat of the Day of Destruction, the idiot, and had stationed guards around the island so that the Eye of Fatalis was safe. Well, safe-er.
"Can't see why you'd need to be here with this barrier doing phenomenally well," he muttered, baring his teeth in a grimace.
The Garuba Daora cocked its head. "Don't you know?" he asked. "I'm pretty sure all the greater elder dragons were informed when the White Fatalis cast his spell over this island. The only things it repels are magical beings."
This time, Avari froze.
Of course. Of course it was designed to keep magic out, if the White Fatalis truly was the one who had installed it. Avari had half a mind to fly off and find the other Sins immediately. But he felt a bit too tired to initiate another twelve-hour flight right this minute, probably because he was still feeling the effects of flying full speed into a force field whose very existence revolved around the need to keep him and his comrades away from the Sky Corridor and the secrets it held.
Rather, he mused, this was a good opportunity to get some more information. Knowledge was power, after all, and power was Avari's favorite thing in the world.
"Is it just you here?" he asked the Garuba.
Completely unsuspecting, the native dragon casually answered, "No, there's another elder dragon who's supposed to be guarding this place too. But he's lazy and makes all the Egyurasu do it for him. There are some other monsters in the Sky Corridor itself, but they keep to themselves for the most part. So… in a way, I kind of am by myself here."
Nodding, Avari asked another question. "What happens if something non-magical comes here?"
"That's only happened once," the Garuba admitted. "A group of humans built this enormous sky-ship to reach this island. I destroyed it, though, and the wreckage landed on the island and stayed a while."
"Until you got rid of it?" guessed Avari. Despite himself, he was kind of curious about this 'sky-ship' and how the humans were able to travel all the way out here.
Only now did the Garuba Daora seem reluctant to go on. "I didn't get rid of it. Someone else managed to shut down the barrier and make off with it. Thank goodness that's all they took, and not anything from the tower."
However, Avari was no longer paying attention. The barrier could be shut down? This was a stroke of good news. Once he told the others about this, they'd only have to find the humans' stolen sky-ship and the barrier may no longer be a problem. Plus, there were only two elder dragons guarding the island…
He needed to get to Superbius and report this ASAP. Fat lot of good their plan would do if they couldn't even get the Eye! With this in mind, he spread his wings.
"You're leaving?" the Garuba Daora asked incredulously.
"I am certainly not thinking of camping out for the day!" Avari shot back, tapping his left front foot to indicate the tiny rock he was stuck on. "I'd like to get back to Superb– the super-comfortable Sacred Land as quickly as I can."
Clearly dubious, the Garuba blinked at what he believed to be an ordinary Alatreon. There was no way he could know that the individual before him was actually an evil knock-off of the actual Alatreon, since both of them were magical. Still, though, he was worried.
"It's a long flight back to the mainland," the Garuba warned. "And the barrier has been known to leave unfortunate magic-users disoriented for days."
"I'll live," Avari told him, confidently. "Again, thank you for your concern. May the winds always be under your wings, fellow dragon."
The bewildered Garuba regained his composure and nodded, replying, "Well in that case, the same to you, stranger."
Soon, Avari had flown far enough away to lose sight of the Sky Corridor completely. Despite the aftereffects of hitting the barrier manifesting themselves as a faint nausea, the Spirit of Greed flew as fast as he could without making his muscles scream in protest.
That poor dragon, he chuckled to himself. How shocked he will be when he realizes that he's helped us take another step toward accomplishing our goal!
Awaken Gogmazios, check. Make sure Gulo did his part, check. Scout out the Sky Corridor, check. Avari had done all of these things and more, so there was no doubt that Superbius would be pleased.
-.-.-.-.-.
Ahahaha, the White Fatalis might be old, but he sure isn't stupid! Looks like the Seven Deadly Sins aren't going to be conquering the world any time soon – because first they have to figure out a way to bypass the barrier around the Sky Corridor!
On a less humorous note, Gogmazios is confirmed to be back, and is accompanied by a couple of equally pleasant cohorts. Where could they be off to? And why was Gogmazios released in the first place?
Send reviews, please! Next time, we'll be checking back with poor, unfortunate Phisto and Co. to see what kind of danger they're in.