War Councils
Lady ‘Radiance’ Eterna, Principle of Jungian High, being divine of fire, watcher of the great wheel, both Queen and Enchantress in her fullness and tired, soon returning to the Illuminated Heaven.
"Shadow Work is the Path of the Heart Warrior.”
C. G. Jung
Lady Eterna’s office was thrown open wide, wide enough to sit a fully grown silver dragon, hopefully. The smoke elementals were busy clearing away a thousand or more lifetimes of clutter. Eterna cracked her back and again and sighed. Few had come. This age was the age of distraction more than anything.
Mrs Bixi was sitting up attentively and sipping her green tea, whiskers still singed, but otherwise looking well groomed. Mr Namkusu stood in the corner of the room, still as a statue. Then they felt the wind change, the smell of drewdrops on freshly cut grass. Lightbringer had arrived. Thank the stars.
“Oh sorry, sorry, busy day. I hope I am not too late…”
At the centre of the hollow mountain, under webs of flowing shadow, drenched in darkness there was a single large stone table.
At one end a colossal cyclopean throne. Upon which sat an uncrowned Queen, smoldering in shadows, “Darkflame”.
At her call they came. Those still loyal to the shadow. Those greedy and power-hungry. Those with something to gain. Those who hated the new world of harmony.
To her right stood Lilishmani, posture perfect, hands tucked and collared, eyes hungry and bright. At her right, her newest “consultant” Andraas-yi, a Noyan, a war leader of hell, blood red body armoured, raven head alert and twitching, eye turning to each present in turn. At the table sat fire giants, and fey, many had come, Aisling had indeed called up her clan, get one get them all. A maned and manicured Sphynx, Mr Capathon, ego lost to The Shadow. And now, creeping into the hall, more cat than dragon, his frame concealed in shadows, Tharlgovassoth the supposedly great “Gloomshadow” master of the dark arts.
“Oh, hello here it is, sorry I am a bit late, busy day. I hope I am not too…”
Lady Eterna smiled a warm and knowing smile.
“Oh not at all. Let’s get down to it, do we have any apologies?”
Mrs Bixi scooped up a small piece of paper and adjusted her glasses. Oh yes, a couple actually. Mrs Dawnfeather is a little under the weather, again, it seems, and we have scheduling conflicts with a few others as well, shall I read the whole list?”
“No, that’s ok dear. Shall we flap on then?”
Lightbringer smiled supportively and started.
“So I heard what happened. First and foremost, is the girl safe?”
Lerophanath looked long and hard at the Sphynx, eyes of pure flame burning into his skull. He was not aware of her gaze, lost in his own inner dialogue, his own personal dialectic. She spoke softly.
“They have my daughter.”
The discussion continued. Andraas-yi was reporting things clinically and efficiently.
“BlackSteed, the centaur private military contractor has accepted our offer, 1000 hooves to your banners Darkflame, the best of the best. The dwarves of the Levain Mining Co-operative are negotiating, they will send arms and equipment but no warriors.”
Lilishmani came in next, “We own them, they will do what we wish or we can cast them from their mines and they can roam the hills as beggars.”
Three of the fey looked up in disdain. Aisling’s sending stone didn’t work and she was bored and wanted a ciggy. This wasn’t a rising, this was same as, same as. She had six little sisters to look after though and needed the gold.
“Look after your muckers, yeah? Yeah right?!”
The other fey chucked and chattered in agreement.
Lerophaneth had quite enough and slammed a tightly closed and taloned fist down upon the stone table. Mr Capathon lurched finally and looked up, realising everyone was looking at him.
“THEY HAVE MY DAUGHTER!”
“Well, ummm, I have been trying to contact some of the other staff and err as of yet there are…”
The sphynx swallowed hard and adjusted his collar.
“I can get her back.”
Came a quiet voice from the shadows, soft like a purring cat.
Mrs Bixi spoke up curiously and carefully.
“Few of us from the Jade and Sparkling heaven yet remain, my kin pass beyond this plane, but what of the other dragons? The quicksilvers? The bronze’s?”
Astriarlaissas shifted in place and folded her claws in her lap, declining a tea from a smoke elemental who drifted on.
“We heard nothing, everyone is so very busy, poor and stressed, to maintain your own hoard is challenge enough these days. This is a great burden upon my kind, all of us, without that, our magic and life fades, it makes our hearts small. Most are not like the drakes of old.”
“Every age has its challenges, a wise lady once told me that,” Mr Capathon nodded warmly to Lady Eterna and smiled. “But now we have the worst of both worlds, a returning Shadow and a weak and scattered host of light. Our list of allies grows thin.”
Lightbringer spoke up, trying to return hope to the room, as was her way.
“I have spoken to Chaznarii, she will act, she will not sit idly by. We can count on her.”
Mrs Bixi adjusted her glasses.
“The black dragon mother? She declined my invite and, if I may be so bold, can we trust them?”
“Trust her dear, they are all people, all different. And, well she isn’t much of team player, not much for clubs and councils, but she is a powerful player, one who has a big stake in this new world.”
Lady Eterna finally spoke, calmly and withe quiet conviction.
“And, she is the wisest in the way of our enemy. I will take one Shadowspinner, mistress of her own heart, over…”
And she wafted on the air, light as a summer breeze, and lovingly touched ancient relics of past ages, each in turn, a dented bronze shield, a mighty draconic helm of liquid metal, and a scepter set with a brilliant diamond
“Thasgorath “The Bronze Bomber”, Yi-darl “The Cracking Whip” or even Xiandor “The Solar Orb”, all mighty heroes, all felled by the shadow.”
A tear rolled down her feathery cheek, encrusting like a radiant diamond. She gathered it with a wingtip and placed it in a small vial, it shone with heavenly glory as she carefully filed it away.
“Shadowspinner is our ally and she has my confidence, when she is needed, she will come.”
One of the fire giants spoke up.
“Great one, queen of flame, we are honoured by this calling. We are fire to your lines blood. We are loyal and strong. We served your mother loyally, to the very end. Our numbers few, but our flames burn bright.”
“You honour me with your words Haffuldr, your loyalty is seen and will be rewarded most highly.”
“But! We are no fools, the halls of Vrolda do not march to their deaths blindly. The new age is a way of harmony, few will rise, many will flee, their fires do not burn with the fury of past ages. They have the silver drake, at least your equal and the Phoenix’s power cannot be undone. She humbled you like a mother to a child. I see a force, growing strong, a Noyan of 1000 blades from the Steppe, but I do not see victory.”
Then with a sickening snapping sound and echoing from all around the chamber, a whisper in your ear, too close to be comfortable, too loud for you to feel safe, she finally spoke.
“Because you are blind to our power and purpose, because you are chained to your forges and furnaces, because your own flame is not what it once was, Haffuldr of the Hall of Vrolda.”
Crawling and clacking on webs of shadow, wrapped in purple tapestries and gloom, Black Annis the last night hag, greatest servant of The Shadow, descended from above.
All went silent, the demons smiled manically, cruel smirks splitting their faces open awfully.
“I have returned, called not by some weakwilled housedrake, but summoned to be council to a QUEEN.”
She wove dark threads of the night as she spoke. Metallic threads that produced a black iron crown, spun from her very sticky shadowsilk, she spat purple venom that formed amethyst crystals. And she spoke shadowpeech, the hellspeech as she wove and worked:
“One Queen in the flame of Night
One Queen to call them,
Be they foe or friend, be they foul or clean,
Servant of Shadow or Hallowed Harmony,
Steed, or drake or spirit,
Lesser folk or forms unborn,
Neither law, nor love, nor host of mail,
Horror nor hazard, nor Fate itself,
Shall shield them from our Darkflame, Queen.
One Queen in the strength of The Shadow,
One Queen to bring them,
Who hoardeth might and claw taketh realms and lives alike,
Finding and keepth and gaze afar casteth!
This swear we all:
To serve one queen of fire and blood.
To serve one queen of fang and flame.
To serve one queen of shadow and death!
One queen to rule them all.
To the world’s end, our word hear thou,
Khan of the Great Steppes!
To everlasting doom of darkness if our deed faileth.
Under the hollow mountain hear our vow in witness
And remember, The Shadow.
The Shadow only takes.”
She finished speaking and placed the Black Iron Crown of Shadows, set with poison amethysts upon Lerophaneth’s brow.
“Hail to Leropaheth “Darkflame” first of her name, daughter of the Crimson Death, last of the great Dragon Queens, hail the Red Fury! Hail to the Queen!”
“HAIL TO THE QUEEN!
HAIL TO THE QUEEN!
HAIL TO THE QUEEN!”
They thundered and roared and pledged their vow, their unholy vow, to dark powers, inside the mountain with no heart.