Clearsight's Choice

Chapter 12. Fathom. The Kingdom of the Sea.

The emerald green SeaWing's eyes glinted as he approached the dead dragon on the beach.

"You were a fool," a strange voice growled from Fathom's mouth. The real Fathom wasn't there. At least, not completely. A tear fell from the emerald green dragon's eye, slipping down his snout and dripping onto the sand beneath his talons. There was nothing he could do.

A puddle of blood was drying at the base of the dead dragon's head. It was drying fast, though. And there wasn't any more blood coming out....

"Indigo...." The real Fathom cried, but he was cut off. "Silence! You are nothing but a worthless, cowardly dragon. You were gifted too much of which you don't deserve. Power." Tears continued to roll down Fathom's cheeks as he was forced forward, toward the body. "Stop! Stop this!" Fathom begged through a sob. A growl responded to him, and his jaw snapped shut.

Against his will, he reached forward with one talon and snatched Blob off of Indigo's tail. "A waste of magic." The deep, growling voice said. Fathom watched the little octopus, feeling miserable. Blob tilted its head at him curiously. It didn't appear frightened.

Run away, little octopus-- He wanted to say. Save yourself! But he couldn't. He couldn't do anything. Fathom looked at Indigo, his eyes burning with incoming tears. Indigo, I'm so, so, so sorry.... He thought. Suddenly, Fathom felt a surge of power through his arm, as if some other force was trying to control his arm. Fathom couldn't stop it. Blob squealed with terror as the arm tried to fling him away.

Fathom felt a bolt of panic strike him, and he came across an idea. He focused on the octopus, squinted his eyes, and thought of a quick and easy spell. I enchant this octopus invincibility, so that it cannot be harmed, no matter the situation. The arm tried to fling Blob, but the little octopus tumbled out of his palm and made impact with the sandy floor.

"Coward," the voice growled at him. "How can you survive in the dragon world without a little death?" he demanded. Fathom remained silent and tried to cast a spell to free himself. It didn't work. Laughter erupted from everywhere at once.

"It's too late now. I've made your magic useless against me." Fathom felt a growl build up in his throat, but he couldn't let it out.

"What do you want from me?" Fathom demanded, and was shocked by how bold his real voice sounded, and by the fact he had actually managed to speak for himself once more.

"What do I want?" His enemy echoed. The sound of the voice was like black ink swarming around him. Threatening to drown him in eternal darkness.

"I want what anyone else wants. I want the only good thing this scrap of a world has to offer. I want...

Power."