Dragon Tide Chronicles: Dawn Rising

Epilogue: Entombed

Epilogue: Entombed

The dim roars of Xah’mmad and Ramok can be heard throughout the Realm of the Arcane, growing increasingly louder as the two goddesses observe the increasingly desperate battle between the two rages on.

“It is sad sister… can we not help Xah’mmad?” The goddess with platinum silver hair whispers mournfully to her elder sister, one who glows with the full beauty and majesty of the sun.

“If only it could be so, Aladimia. However, you know the divine rules. You know why they are in place. We must watch, and can never intervene. Such is the law.” Her elder sister says in a hollow tone.

“But Irintis, surely we can’t just let him die!?” Aladimia says bitterly.

Irintis just shakes her head. “It is of a decree that Order itself made. We are not allowed to break our own rules, sister. Only if Order wishes for it to be broken may we do so. Don’t even ask, I’ve already discussed it; it’s out of the question. Come, sister, let’s go.”

With this, Irintis departs silently, her elegant gown of heavenly material billowing behind her; she does not even care to look back. However, Aladimia pauses to give the two dragons one final mournful glance, before she reluctantly follows her elder sister.

Xah’mmad struggles for breath, gratified to know his mistresses had even stopped to visit him, even as he fought to his deathbed. Ramok pauses as well, his breath laced with venomous fury, poison dripping from his snarling maw. His metallic body is lined with hundreds of thousands of claw marks, which sizzle, painfully closing.

After a brief respite, the two brothers rip at each other’s throats, each seeking to gain some dismal advantage. Their howls and screams rattle the barren, empty plane of existence, even as Ramok’s sinister minions watch from afar in the crumbling ruin of Ramok’s Demon Shaft. Some start to crawl and creep their way to the distant opening into Aladoria, but many watch with corrupt reverence of their vile lord. The Dialadect, his minions so called, lick their sinister maws for a chance of a feast… the likes of which they have not tasted for millions of years.

Soon, these maws would depart for the world above, and begin their conquest to devour in their lord’s name.

That time creeps only closer, as the battle drags on and on, a victor still unclear.