brightly as they reveled in the glory of their god. Tremors coursed through their bodies and cries of pain rang out. Muscles bulged, bones cracked. Scales grew larger, thicker, and stronger. Short horns grew to the size of lances, and teeth like daggers became like swords. Horns grew long at every joint and down the backs of the blessed, and finally they were released.
One and all fell to the stone below, panting.
Reshikk watched them with growing excitement, waiting to see them display the power of the ancients.
Fiorra was the first to shake away her daze. She looked to Reshikk with eyes filled with wonderment and opened her mouth wide. Flame erupted from her maw and bathed the side of the volcano. There was a high-pitched grating sound and a bright spark and brilliant flash. Her flames winked out altogether, and a beam of white-hot flame shot out of her mouth. The concentrated dragon’s breath hit a large boulder and shorn it in two.
Ez’Rah opened his maw and gave a roar, spewing a cloud of mist as black as night. The other dragons were quick to get out of the way as the cloud of death descended on what sparse vegetation there was, causing it to wither and die on contact.
Longclaw the Silver leapt from the rim of the volcano and turned his head. From his maw a snaking arc of lightning erupted, hitting the jungle below and lighting a copse of palm trees on fire.
Next, Krys the White let loose with a howling gale of snow and ice that frosted the side of the volcano halfway to the base.
Xalien the Blue spewed forth a jet of steam into the ground at his feet. It bored a hole ten feet deep and three feet wide. The others shot pluming flames into the air in celebration.
“But what has the Father of Dragons gifted the violet clan?” asked Eluveitie.
The roar that escaped his sharp-toothed mouth caused even Reshikk to turn away in agony as a sonic wave swept over the mountainside. The volcano began to quiver, and as the last terrible echo of Eluveitie’s cry disappeared out to sea, the rumble of an avalanche replaced it.
Reshikk watched proudly with the others as the landslide played itself out, leaving much destruction down the northern face.
“Witness the glory of the yellow dragons,” said Kuumra.
He arched his neck, and all could see a lump building in his throat. The scales of his neck began to glow, and suddenly he shot a glowing fireball out of his maw. It sailed through the air and landed in the dense jungle below, exploding on impact.
As the rumble died, an orange stepped forth. The dragons watched curiously as Aerra bent and took up a large stone in her mouth. Her short, wide neck began to glow, and she bathed the rim of the volcano with molten lava.
The dragons roared and growled, cheering on their fellow blessed.
When silence permeated the air once more, the blessed looked upon the last dragon. Zalenlia the Gold stepped forward proudly and looked out over the side of the volcano. Ez’Rah the Black had killed what vegetation there was, leaving only charred rock and long, cooled onyx lava streams.
The gold dragon pulled back her head and closed her eyes. To the utter astonishment of the other dragons, a song erupted from Zalenlia. It swept over the dragons, filling them with strength and energy. As it echoed over the side of the mountain, saplings began to bud until they covered the northern face. They continued to grow as she sang. When her song ended, a lush canopy of green was left shimmering in the sunlight.
“You have received the blessing of the Father of Dragons,” said Reshikk. “Now you will exact his will upon the world.”
Chapter 8
Steel Fist
The fire of the forge roared. Beads of sweat trickled down Roakore’s brow, stinging his eyes and soaking his clothes. He reveled in the exertion, pounding the steel with his heavy mallet. He gave himself completely to the work, finding that place of focus that only came with the intense love of a craft.
With his mind he pumped
One and all fell to the stone below, panting.
Reshikk watched them with growing excitement, waiting to see them display the power of the ancients.
Fiorra was the first to shake away her daze. She looked to Reshikk with eyes filled with wonderment and opened her mouth wide. Flame erupted from her maw and bathed the side of the volcano. There was a high-pitched grating sound and a bright spark and brilliant flash. Her flames winked out altogether, and a beam of white-hot flame shot out of her mouth. The concentrated dragon’s breath hit a large boulder and shorn it in two.
Ez’Rah opened his maw and gave a roar, spewing a cloud of mist as black as night. The other dragons were quick to get out of the way as the cloud of death descended on what sparse vegetation there was, causing it to wither and die on contact.
Longclaw the Silver leapt from the rim of the volcano and turned his head. From his maw a snaking arc of lightning erupted, hitting the jungle below and lighting a copse of palm trees on fire.
Next, Krys the White let loose with a howling gale of snow and ice that frosted the side of the volcano halfway to the base.
Xalien the Blue spewed forth a jet of steam into the ground at his feet. It bored a hole ten feet deep and three feet wide. The others shot pluming flames into the air in celebration.
“But what has the Father of Dragons gifted the violet clan?” asked Eluveitie.
The roar that escaped his sharp-toothed mouth caused even Reshikk to turn away in agony as a sonic wave swept over the mountainside. The volcano began to quiver, and as the last terrible echo of Eluveitie’s cry disappeared out to sea, the rumble of an avalanche replaced it.
Reshikk watched proudly with the others as the landslide played itself out, leaving much destruction down the northern face.
“Witness the glory of the yellow dragons,” said Kuumra.
He arched his neck, and all could see a lump building in his throat. The scales of his neck began to glow, and suddenly he shot a glowing fireball out of his maw. It sailed through the air and landed in the dense jungle below, exploding on impact.
As the rumble died, an orange stepped forth. The dragons watched curiously as Aerra bent and took up a large stone in her mouth. Her short, wide neck began to glow, and she bathed the rim of the volcano with molten lava.
The dragons roared and growled, cheering on their fellow blessed.
When silence permeated the air once more, the blessed looked upon the last dragon. Zalenlia the Gold stepped forward proudly and looked out over the side of the volcano. Ez’Rah the Black had killed what vegetation there was, leaving only charred rock and long, cooled onyx lava streams.
The gold dragon pulled back her head and closed her eyes. To the utter astonishment of the other dragons, a song erupted from Zalenlia. It swept over the dragons, filling them with strength and energy. As it echoed over the side of the mountain, saplings began to bud until they covered the northern face. They continued to grow as she sang. When her song ended, a lush canopy of green was left shimmering in the sunlight.
“You have received the blessing of the Father of Dragons,” said Reshikk. “Now you will exact his will upon the world.”
Chapter 8
Steel Fist
The fire of the forge roared. Beads of sweat trickled down Roakore’s brow, stinging his eyes and soaking his clothes. He reveled in the exertion, pounding the steel with his heavy mallet. He gave himself completely to the work, finding that place of focus that only came with the intense love of a craft.
With his mind he pumped
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