Ch 4: The Fire Cave

A dark Magi pits himself against the rigors of the treacherous Fire Cave to attain a powerful mystic relic. Are his intentions noble, and can he withstand the onslaught of its ancient magic?

    ABANDON ALL HOPE THOSE WHO ENTER HERE.
 
   The thought resounded inside his mind, but it could never dissuade

him from pursuing the treasure he so coveted. The thief stood

before this forewarned entrance pensively, his lithe form wrapped in

black clothing of every description, a shadow in the harsh light of

day. His skin was pallid and eyes opaque, hidden within the darkness

beneath his cowl, giving the foreboding impression to any onlooker of

a being without a face. He held a plain steel broadsword before

himself like a shield, and focused his immense Shadow Elemental

powers through two spellbound gems set into his ring, readied for any

attack. These black stones appeared to defy the brightness of day,

seemingly absorbing all light and color, as did the eyes of the Magi

who wore them.

    He entered the clearing slowly, and made his way toward the cave

opening, leaving the shady sanctuary of the jungle canopy behind,

cautious of the fabled perils awaiting within the Fire Valley. He’d

avoided many of the most ferocious creatures by traveling during the

day, but at a cost to his magic, the light of the sun bearing down

upon his dark powers like a killer’s knife, weakening him to

mortality. Yet, all his caution didn’t prevent him from having to fend

off several attacks from these beasts of lore, all gnarled and

mangled, bearing fang and claw, born from the breeding grounds of

human fears. Long was the treacherous journey to the cavernous

entrance now before him, yawning unwelcomingly from the depths of

the earth.

    The ground started trembling and a sonorous roar come from

deep within the forest, the only sign the Shadow Elemental had

encountered of the most feared creature reputed to inhabit the

valley. A ‘Terror’ wyrm was on the move again, smashing its way

through the foliage as it traveled the expanse of undergrowth

beneath the immense and soaring trees, creating a labyrinth of paths

in which to lose one’s way. With the vast, tangled mass of the crown

canopy obscuring the sky, the thief let his magic guide him, forced to

make his own trail through some of the densest areas of the jungle,

deciding not to rely on passages left by the wyrms. His journey was

arduous through the thicket, avoiding poisonous barbs and venomous

creatures as he went, fending off numerous attacks by Strangle

Vines. He finally emerged from the forest after close to a week of

ceaseless travel, near exhausted from his constant use of magic.

    A lesser Magi would have failed, he thought, perhaps even my

brother.

    His musings were suddenly interrupted by a shaking far nearer

than a distant wyrm. He took a few tentative steps forward, toward

the mouth of the cave, and the trembling of the earth grew ever

stronger as he approached. The quaking crescendo peaked abruptly,

then, like a cannon blast, fire erupted from the ground before him,

boiling the air in a roil of mephitis and flame. The Shadow Elemental

reeled, caught off guard by the explosion, his shield of sorcery

sparking as the flames licked his being, the heat searing his flesh.

The force of it sent a shock through his entire body, knocking him

from his feet, and left him sprawled on his back, knowing that

without his magic he would have died instantly.

    He cursed his foolhardiness and regained his composure,

disregarding the acrid smell of his singed clothing. Looking down to

retrieve his sword, the thief discovered the source of the flames,

ripples of heat still emanating from a small fissure in the ground.

Grass hemmed the crevice, growing tall only a short distance from

the scorching heat, partly obscuring the fiery glow, as if in defiance

of burning. He wondered vaguely just how deep into the earth the

fault went, chastising himself for not being more attentive, intently

focused on his ultimate goal awaiting within the cave.

    The thief absently stepped over the fuming crevice and sheathed

his sword, looking out over the field to the cavern beyond, searching

for any sign of these strange geologic features. He saw only grass

swaying in rustling waves from the light breeze. Moving further out

into the clearing, he readied his magic, drawing on reserves of

strength from his centered mind, developed over countless years of

practice.

    He encroached upon another, smoldering just out of view, slowly

beginning to tremble as if anticipating his approach, growing in

intensity with each cautious footfall. He sensed the magic of it

welling up like a vent before him, the shaking growing like a

crescendo, when he leapt to the side, avoiding the boiling blast of

steam and the ensuing inferno. Looking up from the ground where

he lay, singed again, he steadied himself and released his magic,

flowing from him at first like blood. Then, as he focused his mind,

concentrating on the grassy field around him, his magic was

unleashed like a silent explosion, and in its wake came countless

blasts from within the earth, roiling in the air like dragon's fire. The

ground shuddered from the effort, shaking him where he lay. The

thief shot to his feet as the quaking subsided, wondering how quickly

the heat in the earth could sustain more blasts. He broke into a run,

his Magi Sense tingling as he searched for any sign of the magic that

heralded the earth fire, but found only a seething from deep

underground. He reached the massive granite opening of the cave

with relief, his magic fading with every use in daylight, and he eyed

the darkened depths of the cavern with a feeling of anticipation. He

left the scathing sunshine behind, welcoming the comfort of the

shade, gathering in strength with each step into the  receding light.

    It was then he saw them, rusted metallic projections jutting out

at every angle from the circumference of the cave, like jagged rows

of teeth in a gigantic mouth opened wide, a crude imitation of what

the Terror wyrm’s gaping maw must resemble before it swallowed

you whole. The thief reluctantly approached the lichen covered

spikes, their sharp points obscured with overgrowth, dulling little over

the centuries. He entered the obstacle as though walking into a

bramble of giant thorns, ducking under the ragged edge of a parallel

spike, only to find himself facing the tip of another, this one bent

back into a hook. Maneuvering around it on his haunches, he sat back

and looked deep into the reaches of the cave, the metal projections

blending in the distance. He knew he’d have to draw on all of his

physical prowess to navigate this elaborate maze. The Shadow

Elemental began his arduous task, weaving through the spikes for

what seemed like hours, relying on his magic when the way was

impassible, moving though them intangibly. He found himself having

to stop for rest, sitting in the blackness amongst the maze, gaining

power from the dark.

    Yet, it mattered not, once he had the Stone, its fabled magic

beyond comprehension…

    The Shadow Elemental stood and looked down the cave, to a dense

mass of intertwining spikes obstructing the path as it angled right,

disappearing into a wall of metal. He began climbing the projections

like a ladder, to a narrow opening near the roof of the cave,

carefully avoiding the points of other spikes protruding though the

relatively parallel makeshift rungs.

    Then he heard it, a faint shuffling noise, barely audible for what

seemed an instant, before returning to the comparatively silent

ambiance. The thief hesitated a moment, intent on the hush in the

air, clinging tightly to the metal shafts near the top of the cave. Only

the quiet remained, ringing lightly in his ears, when he began for the

narrow opening. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain, as the point of a

spike bent like a hook cut into the tender flesh of his cheek, piercing

deep into his ashen face. He leaned back, annoyed by the feeling of

physical pain, and brushed the nuisance aside, concentrating on the

flow of blood, his magic congealing the wound.

    Enough of this! he thought angrily.

    The Shadow Elemental drew on the pervading darkness, his opaque

eyes gleaming with power, immersed in a pool of black. He made

himself transparent, and leapt from his metal perch into a tangled

mass of spikes jutting up from the ground, passing through them

intangibly, landing on the floor of the cave without a sound. Only the

detritus of the cavern floor was disturbed. He walked through the

remaining spikes like a ghost, watching the cave expand as he went,

until he saw something in the distance, a brightening in the wall of

darkness. There was light ahead.

    He finally left the maze of metal behind, the dim fading with

every step taken. He could see massive stalactites descending from

the roof of the cave like stone icicles, silhouetted in the light, their

shadows casting a patchwork of dark across the cavern walls. The

thief wound his way through these black recesses before he finally

caught sight of the light source, small orbs shining white atop rusted

iron sconces, their lasting illumination an ancient magic ages

forgotten. He stood in the brightness for a long moment, studying

the steady, pale glow, wondering about the old world marvel. What

purpose did they serve?

    The thief continued on, the cave descending ever more steeply,

the roof seemingly melting into the ground with each drop of seeping

water, creating a columned labyrinth of rippling fountains of

flowstone. He traversed the network of stalagmites for an unknown

length of time, traveling still deeper into the earth.

    I’m climbing into the heart of a bloody mountain, he thought,

wondering when he would encounter the heat from within it.

    He scaled the side of a large stalagmite, readily surmounting it

despite its wet and rotund size, when he noticed something, from

the depths of the cave below. A slight brightening in the distance,

faint light from another old world lamp. The thief reached its steady

white glow after a time, aware of a growing warmth in the air.

Again, he contemplated their presence, wondering aloud about their

mean as he resumed walking into oncoming blackness. He noted a

gradual decline in the slope of the cave and his travel eased, the heat

rising every moment he descended. Then a sound rang out,

resounding in the pervading stillness, the same shuffling noise from

before, but louder, closer. More.

    The Shadow Elemental slid along the side of a large stalagmite, his

eyes glimmering faintly, slightly luminescent with magic. He absorbed

any residual light from the darkness and amplified it, peering beyond

the veil of black. Nothing stirred in the dim, silhouettes of

stalagmites barely discernable against the opaque walls of the cavern.

His foot struck something on the ground, jostling the unwieldy object

with a slight sound, yet it still echoed in the vault of the cave. He

looked down, vaguely making out the shape of it against the dark of

the floor, gazing back at him with hollow eyes. Staring fixedly at its

faint outline, the contours of the skull became evident, empty eye

sockets looking vacantly into space, its lower jaw absent, with a long,

broken bone lying before it. The thief realized he’d kicked apart

crossbones, assembled against the base of the stalagmite he’d sidled

along. Suddenly, the air shifted, from the motion of something he

wasn’t sure, but a small odor wafted on it, and flared his nostrils.

Poisonous gas stung his senses, moving with the air, growing stronger

on a shifting breeze, as though seeking him out. He walked on,

skeletal remains materializing from out of the darkness, the miasma

intensifying into a sulfurous burning stench. Brimstone hanged heavily

in the air now, and as mere mortal men respired, their bodies were

consumed from within, their bones still resting where they fell in

death, strewn about.

    At least most of them, he thought. Who left the crossbones? What

could be in these sweltering depths, or could it have been made there

by chance, assembled merely by the activity of the earth?

    He resumed his journey, leaving the deathtrap behind, navigating

the dark of the cave with ensorcelled eyes.


    The old world lamps appeared randomly at different lengths in the

suffocating depths of the cave, illuminating the darkness with their

strange white glow. The Shadow Elemental regarded the light

suspiciously, sticking to the shadows of the rock formations, still

questioning the purpose of the orbs. Were they signposts, guiding his

way, or a deception of the ancient wizards, leading him astray? Yet,

there were apparently no other paths in which to lose his way, the

vault of the cave seemingly continuous. Were they left by someone

other than the Stone-wielders? Just how long had these lamps

survived inside the raging mountain?

    He disregarded his concerns, heading out of the light, wondering

how much deeper into the cave his treasure awaited. The thief

imagined his prize, resting atop its stone pillar in a high vaulted

room, picturing the smoldering crimson frown on its face. The Stone

had an expression contorted in anguish, as if appalled by its own

power glowing red from within, all too aware of its consequences.

Almost like a warning to those who would wield it, and a portent for

those its magic was used against.

    Something took him from his thoughts, catching his attention

from the corner of his eye. A shape blocked his path, almost

imperceptible in the dark, when a blunt object caught him across the

chest, sending him reeling backwards, falling onto his knees. More

figures crowded the narrow passage, moving in on him, growing

larger with every step, surrounding him in a circle of silhouettes. The

Shadow Elemental bound to his feet, halting their approach, the

gleam in his eyes shimmering with magic, his hands at his sides,

readied to cast. The hulking shadows continued their advance,

bearing down on him with renewed determination, weapons at the

ready. His eyes flared, black mirrors becoming luminous white,

flashing as he raised his hand skyward, releasing his magic with a

sound like thunder. There was no light, the Shadow Elemental’s black

magic indistinguishable from the darkness, but its effects were

palpable. The ring of figures launched into the air as if by some

invisible explosion, falling noisily to the ground in the inky distance.

Silence returned to the cave, descending like an oppressive weight

after the din of his spell, lingering with a hum in the ear. He

glimpsed beyond the darkness, piercing its opaque veil with the light

of sorcery, illumining his surroundings with a pale glow. He looked

around, searching amongst the rock croppings for the crumpled

forms of his attackers, strewn about. In a hollow in the rock wall, a

body lay on its back, its massive chest heaving with the effort to

breathe, moaning faintly. The thief listened to its death rattle,

clinging to life despite every bone having been crushed by his magic,

left a twisted heap on the ground. He found its face, bent back into

the shadow of the hollow, crimson blood streaking dark colored skin,

oozing from the nostrils of its large, flat nose, fangs protruding from

between its thin lips, glistening bloodied red.

    Ogres, he thought, loathsome creatures.

    It wore antiquated clothing, tattered with age and soiled to a

darkened hue, its tangled mane disappearing beneath its ragged

shirt, large hands with jagged fingernails laying limp and broken at

its side.  Its insides torn apart by magic, the beast slowly drew a final

breath, expelled with a long, wispy rasp, hanging in the silent air.

    The Shadow Elemental felt no sympathy for the slain ogre or its

dead kin, moving on from the ambush site, keeping to the

concealment of the rocks, his senses heightened. Without warning,

there was movement in the cavern ahead, a light now flashing from

amongst stalagmites in the distance, coming in his direction. The

thief faded into the shadows, concealed within the blackest parts of

the darkness, watching as the beings drew near. A flickering torch

appeared, illuminating the cave in a dancing saffron glow, lighting

the way for a throng of armed ogres, rushing towards their fallen

brethren. He cursed his foolhardiness for using a spell with such a

loud, concussive sound. He should have known the noise would have

been amplified in the confines of the cavern.

    The thief slowly left his concealment in the shadows of a rockface,

but clinged to its surface, edging along until he reached a corner and

glanced warily around it. The path was clear. He sneaked across the

open, his senses acute, searching the darkness for any sign of ogres.

The cave suddenly felt much smaller, almost confined, its walls

narrowing in, with nowhere to hide. There was movement all around

him now, the creatures seemingly materializing from the darkness,

coming out of holes and niches the thief had assumed were only

hollows in the cavern walls. He was being flanked, he realized, his

scent must have been caught by some of the beasts giving chase.

Dashing between stalagmites, he was gaining ground on his pursuers,

when an ogre emerged ahead of him, blocking his way. It began to

howl a warning call, when a shape suddenly appeared beside it,

striking it with a mace, the impact leaving the flesh and bone of its

face a bloody streak of debris through the air. The thief slid to a stop

as the ogre’s body collapsed onto the ground,   and its assailant

turned towards him, the mace in its large hand dripping blood

menacingly.

    “Beware, Wizard God,” the assailant spoke in a deep baritone,

with an inhuman quality to his voice. “There are some among us who

don’t believe the ancient stories,” he said, stepping from the

shadows of the rocks. He was ogre, but unlike any the thief was

familiar with. He was hygienic and dressed in woven clothing, which

clung tightly to his bulky body, the fabric bulging with the tension of

his muscles. Intelligence shone clearly in his dark eyes, set back

behind folds of thick flesh and a large, flattened nose, with snout-like

nostrils, his most inhuman characteristic. He had a glossy mane,

descending in curling waves to the collar of his plain tunic, with small

braids and ornamental beads dangling loosely with the motion of his

head. His gray skin was a pale glow in the magical light, and the two

fangs projecting from between his thin lips gleamed, which, when

matched with his fierce upper canines, made the ogre’s bite deathly

brutal. He gestured with a clawed hand, beckoning the thief to

follow, plunging into the darkness betwixt the rocks.

    “I am Oakar,” the ogre said, peering over his broad shoulder, his

mane bouncing with his motion.

    “L’car,” the Shadow Elemental replied with a voice like darkness,

low and quiet. He followed close to the ogre, weaving through the

stone formations towards the cavern wall. The sharp sound of pursuit

drew near, noise from ogres in the distance growing into a melee.

The edge of the cave loomed, and Oakar led them into a niche

behind a fold of strata, almost a wrinkle in the rock of the wall,

virtually invisible from the outer reaches of the cavern. It was pitch

blackness within the fissure, and L’car could barely see the ogre with

his ensorcelled eyes, only a faint shape blurred with motion.

    “There is a bend ahead, then we will see,” Oakar whispered

invisibly.

    See what, L’car wondered absently to himself.

    Suddenly, the movement before him shifted, and the Shadow

Elemental found himself against the wall of the passage, curving to

his right. He turned and followed the ogre, catching up just as Oakar

reached into a pouch at his side which L’car had failed to notice,

producing a round object.

    “I said we would see,” Oakar proclaimed, manipulating the object

with a click, illuminating the cramped passageway with an alien white

glow. L’car realized the ogre had one of the old world lamps, a glass

sphere of light with a black colored box attached.

    “Could you not make light, Wizard God?” Oakar asked, seemingly

puzzled.

    “It would use my strength to make light,” L’car answered simply.

“Instead, I choose to see better in the darkness… like an ogre does.”

    Oakar grunted, apparently satisfied by the answer, picking up his

pace through the stale confines of the fissure. His light of science

pierced the dark in vain, as all that appeared ahead was still cloaked

in blackness. They followed the path for a length of time, emerging

finally into an antechamber with a high ceiling, and a number of

passages leading from it.

    “These were carved,” L’car mentioned as they approached the

right wall.

    “Yes, by ogres who lived before,” Oakar said as he entered the

middle corridor, shining his light down its depths, revealing a passage

descending at a slight incline into the void. “We go.”

    “May I ask you something, Oakar?” L’car asked politely after a

time.

    “I am yours to command, Wizard God.”

    “You mentioned there were ogres who didn’t believe the ancient

stories. What are these stories you speak of?

    “We must give away the Stone to those worthy, for Wizard Gods

they have proven to be,” Oakar replied melodiously, trilling with a

low rumble. “But there are some among us who wish to keep the

power of the Stone here, in the cave forever. They worship it like a

god, but that is not the way of the past ogre warriors. The Wizard

Gods wrought the Stone’s magic, they are the only ones who can use

it, so they are the Stone’s true possessors. But, the Stone’s power

belongs to the Goddess.”

    “What Goddess?”

    “The Goddess of the earth,” Oakar said incredulously. “It is her

power the Stone invokes.”

    “The heat and energy from within the earth,” L’car responded

    “Belongs to the Goddess,” the ogre interjected.

    “Of course.”

    They proceeded in silence for a while, descending the sloping

corridor like a staircase, the oppressive heat stifling the air.

    “Do you know the way to the Stone, Oakar?”

    “Yes, I have been before the Stone, Wizard God.”

    “You are unlike any ogre I have ever known,” L’car professed.

    Oakar spoke without turning his head, “My kin are descended

from man, so my kin have bigger brains. We can think better than

lesser ogres.”

    “Like the ogre you killed?”

    “Yes. Just a grunt. We are Ogres of the Fire, Guardians of the

Goddess, Warriors of the Stone!”

    “Defenders of the Wizard Gods,” L’car added offhandedly,

sarcasm plain in his voice.

    Oakar looked back at him from over his shoulder, his deep voice

stern, “We honor the balance! If the Stone is used for evil, the ogre

warriors will battle the outsiders and return the Stone to the

Goddess. The power of the Goddess is not a weapon. Oakar would

not want to have to kill you, Wizard God.” He smiled, his pointed

teeth gleaming.

    “You would fail, beast,” L’car declared. “The Chaos Stone was

created as a weapon! Its sole purpose is to reign destruction upon the

lands with the internal power of the earth!”

    “The Goddess brings life to the valley with the Stone,” Oakar

rejoined. “And that is the caves’ purpose,” he used L’car’s word,

“to protect the Stone from those not worthy of wielding its power.”

    “Yes. The cavern does seem to serve as an elaborate security

device, testing Magi to prove their worth through its rigors,” L’car

mused, thinking of the crossbones of human remains. “But, it is a

sad fact, Oakar, that many of the most powerful magic users are

very bad people.”

    “Then the ogre warriors will see their evil destroyed,” Oakar

avowed. “Is it your purpose to ‘reign down destruction upon the

land’?”

    “If it were? How would you know the truth?” L’car hissed

venomously.

    “The Wizened Elders would know with their powerful magic, and

they would send the ogre warriors to defend the Goddess. The

Wizard Gods would be wise not to bring the Goddess’s wrath.”

    “Of course.”

    Conversation ceased as the confines of the corridor opened up into

a high room, with stone walls running laterally, restricting them to a

long passage, the heat overwhelming the senses with a humid air.

Oakar pointed left, and led them in that direction for some time,

before entering a small gap in the wall, moss clinging to every crevice

in the damp rock. L’car looked up to the vaulted ceiling, ascending

into the distance, with a myriad of enormous stalactites hanging

perilously above them.

    Oakar broke the silence, “We are in the Labyrinth. I will help you

to avoid its dangers. Come, this way.”

    “What is that sound?” L’car questioned, following the ogre around

another bend.

    “That is the Firewater. It comes from the ground with clouds of

steam. Much of the Firewater is dangerous to the touch, but it is the

invisible death that we must fear most.”

    “They are known as geysers,” L’car explained, and the ogre

repeated the word slowly. “And you don’t have to fear the invisible

death, I will know its gases before it can kill.”

    “You are truly knowing and powerful, Wizard God!” Oakar

proclaimed.

    “Of course,” he replied with a wry twist of a smile. The Shadow

Elemental L’car knew he was close to attaining the treasure he so

coveted.

    It will be his to possess.


    The Shadow Elemental L’car crawled his way through a fissure in

the rock wall of the Fire Cave, struggling to keep up with the ogre

Oakar, who, despite his bulk, moved rather nimbly within the

crevice. L’car fought a strange sense of claustrophobia, fear an

emotional state he was unfamiliar with since his youth, the heat in

the confined air almost unbearable and difficult to breathe. He

clawed at the surface of the rock for any handhold, mostly propelling

himself along with his legs, the ancient dust they disturbed obscuring

his night-vision. He contemplated using his magic, to navigate

through the fissure with ease, but he knew he may need his powers

at their fullest to claim his prize Chaos Stone.

    “How is it you know the way, ogre?” L’car asked between

breaths.

    “Many ogres come over the years to look upon the face of the

Stone,” Oakar answered as he pulled himself along on his stomach.

“It is a rite of passage.”

    “Then why not possess the Stone?”

    “No ogre would dare touch the Stone and bare the wrath of the

Goddess.”

    “Pathetic, fearful little creatures,” L’car whispered to himself.

    The crevice abruptly curved downward into a fissure flooded with

light and sound, and the Shadow Elemental felt a surge of

anticipation, the magic of the Stone overwhelming his magi-sense.

There was something else, too, a magic signature he couldn’t

identify, masked by the power of the Stone.

    “I go no further,” Oakar declared. “Take the path of light to the

pillar of the Stone, but beware the wrath of the Goddess!”

    “Thank you for your words of warning, Oakar,” L’car replied,

maneuvering into the fissure. The Goddess beware my wrath once I

have the Stone, he thought.

    He descended the rock wall into a wide opening, awash in the glow

of magma oozing from within the fiery heart of the mountain. Broad

stone islands dotted the lake of lava, ringing a massive pillar rising

defiantly from the bubbling molten rock. Runes of ward were carved

into its rounded surface, their intricate designs shining faintly. L’car

looked to the heights of the cavern, and spotted a darkened recess

high above the red-orange glow of magma. With a straining effort,

he focused on the shadow, pulling it from behind the rock outcrop,

its opaque hue fading into translucency as it entered the light. L’car

immersed himself in the shadow, its darkness barely shading him, but

its power throbbed throughout his body. His dusty boots slowly lifted

from the ground, levitating briefly as he absorbed its energy,

readying himself for the task ahead. The pillar rose halfway up to the

rock outcrop, and the shadow which he conformed stretched above it

like a corridor of darkness. L’car began to ascend the corridor, his

arms outstretched, feeling heat wash over him as he floated above

shimmering magma. He watched the ward runes pass by as he rose,

their faint glow brightening as he drew near, the magic within them

dissolving in his presence. Stone formations appeared as the top of

the pillar approached, with a crimson aura radiating from inside the

strange structure, its brilliant rays of red light coruscating from the

source of its power, obscured by the rock. The Shadow Elemental

knew he was the first man to look upon the home of the Stone in

nearly five-hundred years. He gently landed atop the pillar and

released the power of the shadow, its translucency disappearing from

around him in an instant, as if it were never there, darkness

returning to the recess behind the rock outcrop. L’car strode around

the stone formation, realizing as it turned before him that it was a

crude representation of a hand, palm out with rocky fingers pointing

upwards, resembling an eccentric throne. And seated upon the palm

was Chaos Stone, enveloped within a fiery aura of power, staring up

at him direly, its frown stark and forbidding. L’car wasted no time,

reaching fearlessly into the red light, its energy shooting through him

as he grasped the Stone. He looked into the voids of its eyes, and a

roil like magma simmered behind its vacant stare, when the crimson

aura suddenly vanished with a hiss. Then, the Stone began

disintegrating into his hand, inundating his body with the surge of its

power.

    Suddenly, a shrieking roar pierced the air, rattling the rock walls

of the cavern with its intensity.  Then, it was as if the entire

mountain shook, with the top of the pillar L’car stood upon swaying

ominously. The Shadow Elemental tried to focus his magic, but his

abilities were overwhelmed by the power of the Stone. His mind was

awash in ancient thoughts, with concepts beyond comprehension

racking his concentration. The cavern quaked twice more, the booms

resounding within the dome, shaking debris loose from the ceiling,

whole stalactites splashing into the magma below. L’car stumbled to

his knees, brought to ground by the trembling earth, overcome with

what the magic of Chaos was revealing to him, the four dimensions

of his reality shattered with mind-bending experience and sensation.

It felt as though his brain was being torn apart, and he wondered if

he could withstand the magic’s onslaught.

    Magma shot up onto the pillar, splashing down like red-hot mud,

blackening as it cooled, when another shriek rang out, louder and

more distinct than the first. The Shadow Elemental heard a strange

sloshing sound, and he realized suddenly, in his altered state, that

something was disturbing the surface of the lava below. He managed

to rise to his feet and leap, an instant before a burst of fire erupted

behind him, incinerating the bare rock where he once kneeled.

Rolling onto his back and flipping to his feet, he looked up as a

magma-covered serpentine neck rose skyward, and quickly found its

pointy-scaled head. Sweeping, blade-like horns projected from thick,

fleshy frills on its cheeks, its beak-like mouth opened wide, preparing

to spit another blast of fire, with beads of lava dripping from its

spiky jaw line. Red-hot eyes found L’car’s, and he realized he was

staring down an ancient Fire Drake.

    The pillar suddenly shuddered as the Drake grasped the edge, its

large claws digging deeply into the rock, its other limbs taking hold

onto the side. The Drake reached out, magma dripping from its

glowing, saffron-scaled arm as it grasped L’car, wrapping its large,

clawed hand around him. The Shadow Elemental remained still, his

shield of sorcery sparking as the Drake strained to crush him. It

released him abruptly, then leaned in on its serpentine neck, mouth

agape, and spat another burst of white-hot fire. L’car lowered his

head, his eyes opaque voids, radiating clouds of darkness within the

brilliant light of the dragon’s fire, unscathed by the intense heat, his

magic barrier indestructible.

    “Beware, Wrath of the Goddess,” L’car whispered into the

inferno, then disappeared from it in a blink.

    The dragon’s fire ceased, and then a blinding flash filled the

dome, consuming the pillar and the Fire Drake upon it with its

incandescence, unleashing a massive explosion. For an instant the

room was ravaged by the throes of the blast, when the light

expanded and vaporized the entire cavern. The surrounding rock

imploded, then disappeared into thunderous darkness as the

mountain around it collapsed inward, filling the void left by the

explosion.

    L’car warped safely out to the entrance of the Fire Cave. The

destruction he’d wrought was a mere trembling in the earth he now

stood upon, and a rumbling, faint in the air. The Shadow Elemental

casually strode past the fire holes, the source of their magic now

within him, when a giant Terror wyrm raised its head through the

trees like a mountain in the shadowy distance. It let out a long,

solemn howl, mourning the death of the Fire Drake, L’car knew,

slain senselessly by the power of the Stone. He questioned whether he

could resist the temptations of its magic.

    Somewhere at the fringe of his consciousness, L’car wondered if

his ogre friend, Oakar, was unharmed by the power he recklessly

unleashed deep within the mountain. But his thoughts were

scattered, struggling with the reality of the magic of Chaos Stone,

rapt with the knowledge that he was now the most powerful being in

the world.

Author's Note

Tell me what you think! Suspenseful? Exciting? Boring?
10 points to review!

Reviews

[hannah]

Nice job! Thanks for submitting! :]