Chapter 47 - The Calamity from the Skies [Part 1]
With the birth of the Bone-Dragon, the Dragons were horrified and unwilling to play any further part in the campaign. Having lost one of their number, they felt the first pangs of newfound mortality. The great lizards left the short-lived races to their fate and flew back across the ocean to their high mountain homes. With their departure, the war returned to a grinding stalemate.
As casualties mounted on both sides, the Republic began to lose its appetite for war. Even with necromancy filling the gaps in its ranks, the constant attrition was beginning to wear on the people, some of whom now demanded that they heed the elves’ earlier offers of amnesty. The Steward of the Republic, feeling the pressure of his people’s cries, searched for a way to end the war and force the invaders back.
- On the Cataclysm by an unknown Quassian Scholar, circa 103 AC.
Seraphina allowed herself a satisfied smile as she reviewed her spoils from the Palipula Woods. The little outing had earned her two full levels; she spent one skill point to push Crystal Dagger to its maximum and the other to elevate Mana Regeneration to level four. As predicted, felling a host of exotic creatures had boosted nearly all of her attributes—everything except Wisdom. Strangely enough, even her Charisma had edged upward, though she couldn’t imagine why. To add a lot of punch to her build, she decided to put all of her free attribute points into her vaunted Strength.
Suddenly, her maid started blabbering about something, interrupting her pleasant thoughts.
“Milly, what exactly do you mean when you say a Dragon has been sighted? There should be absolutely no reason for such a creature to venture this far south,” Seraphina snapped sharply, her emerald eyes fixed intently upon her anxious maid Miriam.
Miriam swallowed nervously, straightening her posture as she replied. “According to the most recent reports, milady, the Dragon has already devoured an entire herd of cattle and paused for rest among the northern hills. Judging by the scorched trail it left behind and its current trajectory, it appears to be making a direct path toward Meridian.”
Seraphina clenched her jaw in frustration, letting her elbows rest heavily upon the richly polished darkwood desk that dominated the center of her private chambers. The wood, polished to an almost mirror-like sheen, was cool beneath her forearms—a stark contrast to the heated agitation rising within her.
This turn of events was entirely unforeseen and bitterly vexing. Dragons were creatures designed to be encountered late in the game, formidable foes whose defeat was possible only by a protagonist who had ascended to peerless heights and accompanied by the most elite allies that the in-game cash shop would allow. That such a creature would cast its shadow now, threatening Meridian, defied any and all expectations.
Her brow furrowed deeply as she pondered her next move. “Has Eloise returned yet? Where on earth has my silly lady-in-waiting run off to now?”
Miriam fidgeted uneasily, clasping her hands tightly in front of her apron. “I'm afraid she has yet to return from her embroidery club, milady.”
Seraphina released an impatient sigh, drumming her fingers on the wooden surface. This was simply intolerable.
This upcoming “event” threw a wrench into many of her carefully laid-out plans. For a start, Dragons could fly swiftly, breathing fire capable of reducing entire cities to ashes. The mere thought of facing one caused her a moment of pause despite her carefully maintained composure. The scale of devastation would be enormous, catastrophic even.
“How many know about this situation?” she asked sharply.
“Only a select few, milady,” Miriam replied hurriedly. “Primarily the higher ranks among the King's Rangers and possibly Headmaster Hegandia.”
“Our source?”
“A well-connected retired Ranger was the first witness, observing the beast near his pension. His credibility is beyond reproach.”
Seraphina pressed her fingertips to her temples, massaging gently to quell a rising headache. “Have preparations begun for evacuations of our people?”
“I was just about to organize them, milady…”
“Hold off on that for the moment. For now, Milly, find Lady de Laney immediately. That is a priority. If she ends up overcooked, I will never be able to explain it to her family. Also, what measures is the King considering?”
“The latest intelligence suggests that the King intends to dispatch a contingent of Gryphon riders to lure the Dragon away from Meridian,” Miriam stated hesitantly, her voice betraying her doubts about the efficacy of such a plan.
Seraphina’s frustration threatened to boil over at the pathetic absurdity of the King's response. “What good is sending a bunch of children mounted on oversized lion-birds against a flying reptile larger than a bus?”
Miriam tilted her head in confusion. “Milady, forgive me, but what exactly is this 'bus' you speak of?”
“Something very big,” Seraphina snapped dismissively. “Now, silence, Milly. I need a moment to consider our options.”
Closing her eyes, she delved deeper into contemplation, running various disaster scenarios through her mind. But the nagging question remained—why was this Dragon headed for Meridian at all? Dragons typically existed aloof from the affairs of “lesser races”, proud and indifferent to mortal troubles. Yet, at their core, they were still beasts driven by instinct…
Suddenly, realization dawned upon her, prompting a fierce scowl. “That insufferable little witch, Este Lize! She has utterly ruined everything! Milly, do we have an accurate inventory of the beasts that troublesome girl has recently acquired?”
“Well,” Miriam began uncertainly, mentally recounting. “There was the Manticore, the Greater Cockatrice, the Landshark, and…”
“Did she obtain any eggs?” Seraphina interrupted sharply, her expression darkening.
Miriam hesitated before nodding reluctantly. “I do recall hearing that they secured several large, unidentified eggs…”
Seraphina slammed her hands forcefully upon the surface of her desk, causing the ornate furniture to shatter spectacularly beneath the impact, sending shards of wood scattering across the polished marble floor. “A Dragon’s egg! That idiotic trollop dared to steal a Skylord’s egg! Her foolishness will doom us all!”
In harmony with her mistress’s anger, Cornelia—the twin-headed serpent coiled protectively around Seraphina’s neck—hissed menacingly, scanning the room for potential threats.
“Can we eat her, mistress?” Cornelia hissed eagerly, hunger radiating clearly through the telepathic link binding them together.
“All in good time, my pet,” Seraphina murmured soothingly, running a gentle finger along the serpent’s scaled back. “When the opportunity arises, she will be yours.”
Miriam watched the young noblewoman anxiously, concern etched clearly across her gentle features, the soft brown of her eyes more expressive than most could manage with words alone.
Before Miriam could utter a word, Seraphina preempted her sharply. “'What shall we do, milady?'” she mimicked scornfully, irritation bleeding heavily into her voice.
Drawing a deep, calming breath, Seraphina assessed her predicament. Retreating and evacuating meant abandoning substantial investments. Meridian served as her strategic cornerstone, from which she intended to influence all of Aranthia through her carefully orchestrated media campaign. Abandoning the city was simply unthinkable. Yet, fighting came with risks—but also immense potential rewards. The title “Saviour of Meridian” held undeniable allure, although she loathed the idea of prematurely revealing her hidden strengths so early in her carefully arranged political game.
A shrewd politician at heart, Seraphina knew emergencies were fertile grounds for ambitious maneuvers. She thrived in such chaos.
“Milly, organize our key individuals to shelter within the mage training grounds at the Academy. Capitalize on the inevitable panic—purchase property from those eager to flee at ten percent of its market value. We must secure our grip on the city in every way possible.”
Miriam nodded nervously. “Understood, milady. But we likely have only a day or two at most.”
“Then it seems,” Seraphina sighed dramatically, steeling herself for the challenge ahead, “that I must slay this Dragon personally.”
She smiled, coldly confident, eyes glittering with ambition. “Spread word throughout Meridian—ensure the populace knows their beloved Saint is the cause of this disaster, but also make certain they hear clearly that it shall be Seraphina de Sariens, the future queen of Aranthia, who resolves the crisis.”
“Milady…” Miriam started, apprehension coloring her voice.
“What now, Milly?” Seraphina said impatiently.
“With respect, how exactly do you intend to slay a Dragon?”
“Why, Milly, you dear, silly creature,” Seraphina replied smoothly, a dangerous glint in her eyes. “With a Dragon Slayer, naturally. Now summon Frest and my Knights immediately—we have urgent preparations to make!”
