The three walked towards the entrance. They stopped at the three tunnels. Cyil bumped against the door. This time, he looked over.
"Hey, look! A door!"
Cyil rushed through it before anyone could stop him.
Behind the door was a long, winding stairway leading up the castle. Qassot and Riselus followed Cyil slowly. The staircase ended at a hallway lined with doors. At the end iswasa massive wooden gate.
"It's almost like the hallways with the guest rooms back at Azor's castle," Cyil mumbled.
Qassot edged open the closest door to the left. The inside was completely empty, except for a bed. There were no windows. Qassot opened the next door. This room was completely empty. Dust covered the floor.
While Qassot explored the other rooms, Cyil found himself drawn to a door marked with glowing runes. He walks over to the door and reads the label.
Treasury.
Cyil tries opening the door, but it was locked. He picked up a fireball and set the door on fire. The red shimmer cracked and broke as it tried to protect the rapidly burning wood. Soon, a hole large enough for Cyil to fit through was burnt through the door. He entered the room.
"We'll be in the treasury," Riselus called.
"Alright," Qassot called back. She scratched her head. All of the other rooms had nothing in it, except for that one room with a bed. She returned to the room.
"What are the chances this is Ezarik's bedroom?"
She walked over to the bed and looked at it. Just a normal bed, caked with dust. She looked at the floor. Tracks in the dust. Lines where something pushed the dust out of the way. Qassot peers closer.
"So the bed was moved," she mumbled to herself.
Qassot pushed the bed away. Underneath it was a stairway. She carefully made her way down.
It was a dungeon.
At the far end of the dungeon, the ceiling and wall had been blown apart by some immense force.
Next to it was a mangled cell.
Qassot took a sharp breath in.
This dungeon was the one the shadow was kept in.
Qassot edged closer to the cell and looked inside. It was identical to the one Kovo showed them. There was no doubt about it; the shadow was captured by Ezarik and kept in his castle. She frowned. She remembered what Azor told them.
"You need to attack Ezarik quickly and get him to withdraw the shadow," she whispered. For some reason, these words rang clearly in her mind.
If the shadow is under Ezarik's control, why would it have broken out like this?
A sudden pain in her head jolted her back to reality.
She pushed her confusion to the back of her mind and focused.
It's that sense again. What is it this time?
Qassot carefully felt the air, looking for magic. She quickly identified two types. Protection magic, and something powerful that opposed it.
Magic that cancels other magic.
Qassot carefully edged closer to the cell. She suddenly became aware of an immense well of cancelling magic, pushing the red shimmer away, leaking out into the surroundings.
So this is how the shadow escaped.
She took a step closer to look, feeling the canceling magic flow over her scales as she stepped forwards to inspect the destruction in the cell.
Pain suddenly racked Qassot's brain. She staggered forwards. Her mind went blank. A searing feeling consumed her body, reaching from the depths of her bones to the top of her horns. Bright white chains began to appear all over her body, wrapping around her. The canceling magic attacked the chains viciously, snapping and shattering them, not caring about the damage it was causing Qassot.
The pain consumed her mind as her bones and muscles started rearranging themselves, shifting in and out of place with excruciating snaps.
The only thing Qassot could do was collapse on the floor.
-
Panting, Dracoa tumbled out of a portal and landed at the door of a dark castle. She collapsed. She abruptly yanked herself up and closed the portal, then lay back down. She remained there for a while, trying to catch her breath. Pain racked her left wing where she had been struck on the way through the portal. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She closed her eyes and thought back to her encounter.
She had entered the rock and found the shadow sitting there.
"Hello, Dracoa," it said.
Dracoa stared cautiously back. "You returned."
"More or less."
"One moment," the shadow said. Its shape briefly solidified in some places. A golden claw here, a black scaly tail there, before magic burst out from the shadow and it returned to its nebulous state.
"What was that?"
"I blocked off the void. The Overseer was trying to push me out again."
Dracoa squinted at his form. "What happened?"
"A lot of things," it sighed. "I feel like a completely different being now."
"What kind of magic did those wizards use to make you like this?"
The shadow hesitated.
"I had some time to think while I was trapped by Ezarik," it said, avoiding the question, "and I think I have to change my name."
"What-" Dracoa started. "Why?"
"That name belonged to the dragon you made friends with. Not this… monster." It looked at itself and let out a long breath. "Ezarik called me Shadowfang. I guess that's who I am now."
Dracoa sighed. Was Cyil right? Was the undersized, cheerful dragon she once knew only an experiment?
"Why are you like that, anyways?" Dracoa asked, finally voicing the question she hadn't dared to ask.
"An unfortunate side-effect of my magic." Shadowfang said. He paused.
"What is the side-effect?" Dracoa asked.
"There are these small wisps that look like smoke. They're all part of me, just scattered far and wide. Each one has a portion of my power in it. I need to collect them."
"So right now…"
"I've almost collected all that I need." Shadowfang gestured to the void around them visible through the rock. "There's a few more in this place that I need to find."
The memory flashed forwards. They had moved out of the rock into the void itself.
"So why did you return?"
"To hunt the Elder Dragons down."
"Aren't they dead? The wizards killed them after you-"
Dracoa paused. She couldn't bear to say it.
"They're still alive, and they will return in full power unless I can kill them now. Besides, I promised to finish this."
Dracoa nodded. Shadowfang sighed and slowed its pace.
"I originally wanted to collect all the gems and the orbs, but I don't want to do that anymore."
"Why?"
"Taking all the gems and orbs will break apart the island and make it easier to find the Elder Dragons, but it will also wake them up."
"What will you do instead?"
Shadowfang paused. "Someone's taking the orbs and the gems. I need to kill them."
Dracoa's heart skipped a beat. "What? I'm sure we left the orbs where they were!"
"Someone came by after you left and took the orbs. It looks like they're trying to wake up the Elder Dragons."
Dracoa's breath shook. Was it Ezarik?
"I'll need to take the gems and put them back before everything collapses."
Dracoa gritted her teeth.
"We can just find whoever took the orbs and get them back."
"You're not strong enough."
"With the gems, we are strong enough."
"I don't think five random creatures with no battle experience can defeat one of the High Council of Magic's Elders, even with the five elemental gems."
Dracoa's jaw clenched even tighter.
"Can you go to your friends and convince them?"
"No," Dracoa said. The dream that started this whole adventure resurfaced in her mind. After over a thousand years of solitude, living a life with no real direction, the dream had given her purpose. She was not going to back down. "We're not giving the gems to you. This is our responsibility."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"There's no time left. If you had a few months of training, I could help you, but I don't think-"
"You can just join forces with us."
Shadowfang paused.
Dracoa looked him in his hollow eyes.
"Please?"
Shadowfang looked back at her and shook his head.
"You'll just get in the way."
"But-"
"You know how… chaotic my magic is. You'll all just die during the fight."
"We're stronger than you think."
"Not strong enough to survive fighting with me."
Dracoa gritted her teeth again. Frustration was creeping into her heart.
"Can't you just let us handle it? Do you really have to interfere?"
"Yes. None of you are powerful enough."
Dracoa sighed and turned away. She didn't want to just give up. She finally had a reason to keep going. She was the last of the wyverns. The wizards and wyverns she was friends with had long since left her behind to hunt down her childhood friend, and now, that same friend had returned, unwilling to let her help him. Anger began to boil over, making her shake.
Shadowfang let out a long breath. "This is the only way. I'm not strong enough to fight against all seven Elder Dragons at once."
"So you'd rather us give up what we worked so hard for?"
Shadowfang nodded. "There's still a chance if I just prevent the collapse by replacing the gems, but the Elder Dragons will definitely wake up if I just leave things be. I'll take them by force if I have to, but I can't let them be woken up."
Dracoa didn't turn back. She took a deep breath.
"I can at least understand why you won't let us help," she said quietly, trying to get her anger under control.
She took another deep breath and tried to change the subject.
"What happened to the wizards and wyverns chasing you in the Beyond?"
Shadowfang didn't answer.
Dread crept into Dracoa's mind.
"Answer the question," Dracoa snapped.
Shadowfang paused.
"I killed them."
The last strand of reason in Dracoa's mind snapped.
An air blade materialized out of Shadowfang's chest.
Shadowfang's shape briefly reformed fully, into a small black dragon around half the size of Qassot.
Dracoa choked out a sob.
The air blade that went straight through Shadowfang's chest was now dripping dark red. The metal smell of blood filled the ethereal air.
Dracoa closed her eyes, struggling to control the torrent of emotions pouring through her mind. She willed herself to bury them deep down, underneath layers and layers of the past, until there was nothing more of them. She couldn't. She opened her eyes and looked helplessly at the small collapsed form in front of her.
Run.
The voice was so quiet that Dracoa initially registered it as a breath of wind. She leaned closer. Shadowfang's voice came out as a thin whisper that Dracoa could barely hear.
Shadowfang's last breath was a warning.
"Unless you want to end up the same as your kin."
A freezing chill ran down Dracoa's spine.
Dracoa began to back away.
Shadowfang's body began to swirl and grow, becoming a malicious cloud of black smoke that the others had seen and dreaded. The shape was soon recognizable - a draconic wyvern with Shadowfang's two distinctive gray fangs.
The fangs flashed golden and a spine-chilling roar resounded through the void.
Dracoa shuddered and pushed the memory out of her mind. She saw the void. She saw herself sliding around the strange, flat field, stretching to infinity. Wandering for hours on end, without rest, without tiring, running from the- the- the thing. The shadow appeared, roaring unintelligibly slowly moving across the field, throwing a raging storm of dark magic at her.
She woke up, staring at the dark, cloudy sky. Incredible sadness sliced through her heart. Her friend from so long ago, gone, just like that. Replaced by something far more vicious, and far more powerful. She stared at the castle, then suddenly realized what it was. Ezarik's castle. The polar opposite of Azor's. The door lay open, gently swaying in the wind. Dracoa took a deep breath in. They're fighting Ezarik. I wonder whose idea it was? Riselus? Qassot? Dracoa paused, debating whether or not she should go help them. She then heard a snap behind her. A black crack had started to open up in the air. Shadowfang was trying to follow her. Dracoa gritted her teeth. I should hold the shadow off. Taking a deep breath, she opened a portal back to the void and dove back into the storm.