Chronicles From the End of an Age

Exile - 45Yrs BTA

Zyal walked down the large earthen corridor, head held high and seething anger flooding his breast. His heavy footfalls echoed loudly, the flat stone beneath his feet ringing as his claws scraped along with them. A patrol of dragons walked with him. Two earth dragons in front of him, with their forest green scales, large form, and great spiked balls at the end of their tails. Two crystal dragons walked by his side, their diamond-like, near-transparent scales shining in the beams of light cascading from the roof above. Behind him walked two metal dragons, their metallic shells shining with the same brilliance, and their pale-yellow scales running along their underbelly and legs.

He could feel their unease at his presence. The occasional glance here. The shaky breath from the crystal dragon at his right. The desperate ignorance of the earth dragons in front as they resisted the urge to glance back. It amused him slightly. All six of them knew of him. All six knew that, if he so chose, he could have them crushed into bloody pulps in a matter of moments. The anger he felt made him nearly tempted to do so, but he had enough control over his emotions to prevent himself from doing that. It wasn't their fault he was in his current predicament.

Instead, he focused on keeping himself regal, professional, not letting them know what he was considering even if he had no intention of acting upon it. With every step he reached down into the earth at his feet, using its calm reassurance to help maintain a level thought. His own great green wings he held loosely at his side, and the spiked ball at the end of his own tail was held slightly off the ground as to avoid it scraping large grooves in the stone. He looked forward, focusing on their destination with as much intensity as he could muster.

The corridor was a massive building, built from stone and steel. It levied several hundred dragon-lengths in height, and more than three dozen across, with pillars twice as thick as Zyal's body placed along the walls. Each pillar had engravings dug deep inside them, engravings that depicted massive battles between dragons, of mountains raised and oceans made. Images of the earth in all its glory, with life flowing through it, and depictions of the element of earth, Gaia, formatting the very landscape of the world. Each engraving was etched deep into Zyal's memory. He knew them. He had been the one to create them.

At the end of the corridor was an opening of equal grandeur, exiting out into a large open cavern. The cavern had an open roof, much like a volcano, as the rock walls slanted inward toward the top. Toward the other side of the cavern were three more pillars, each with their own engravings. The pillar on the right was made from earth and rock, spiralling upwards to a flat top. The one of the left was made of pure crystal with a slight purple sheen, sparkling gloriously in the midday sun. The one in the middle was the largest and made from pure metal, the steel shining silver to match that of the one with crystal.

Each of the pillars had a dragon sitting on top of the corresponding attribute, all three looking down at him with solemn faces and worried eyes. Zyal's escort lead him to the centre of the cavern, where a slightly raised platform had been made. Without question the earth drake hopped onto it, promptly sitting on his haunches. Knowing that the ground was hard, and feeling slightly spiteful, Zyal gripped the stone below him, making it his own, before shifting and grinding it, turning it into sand. The dark look given to him by the three dragons above made him smirk.

His guards situated themselves around the platform, but instead, they each gave a short bow to the dragon's above out of respect, before also sitting on their haunches. No one spoke. So, with a short sigh, the earth dragon lay himself down on his sand bed, showing his boredom and contempt of the proceedings. There was one more they were waiting for.

As Zyal studied the surroundings his gaze came upon a trio of humans at the far edge of the room, chiselling designs into the stone. More depictions, more art. He snorted at their work. Yes, human's certainly had far more dexterity in their limbs then dragons, but they scarcely understood a dragon's culture, or of what should be on the walls. Zyal could create artwork of just as much detail in far less time with simply a press of the stone walls with his mind. The fact his leaders were now relying on humans to do the work was a testament to how far they had fallen.