Vegenrage: The Magic User

by Robert Spina

  “They will hatch any day now.”

  Blethstole heads back up toward Gwithen. “I saw those responsible for stealing your magic today. I breathed fear into those responsible for making you sleep. I did not take their lives today because it is you that should excise their souls from their puny bodies. You should take vengeance on those that stole from you. I have watched the races of man and elf and dwarve become strong in the use of magic. I have watched as they fearlessly attack dragons and, in many cases, kill us. It is time to show strength. It is time to fill their hearts with fear and send them into hiding as they have done to the dragons. We need you to help lead the way. With you destroying their small civilizations, the remaining dragons will flock to protect you and destroy them.”

  “You know that is not my way. I do not care about death and destruction. I do not care that they stole my magic and put me to sleep to further their cause. The thought of showing my power to kill with ease fades when I think about what is important to me, like watching our young hatch, playing with them, feeding them, and watching them grow. That is what is important to me. You talk as though all men, all elves, and all dwarves want to hunt and kill dragons. I do not believe this. You fly down on kingdoms with hundreds or thousands of people there and kill most of them. You may kill some truly evil people, and you may kill a lot that want to hunt and kill dragons, but you really kill mostly those that just want to live and let others live too. To kill the masses accomplishes nothing good, it only worsens things. To rain fear breeds fear in those that had no intentions of ill will in the first place. To kill many when you truly target only a small few or one brings mass hostility against you, and this will ultimately be your downfall. It is those with only the best of intentions with innocence in their hearts that remember cruel deeds and, in time come, back to haunt and eliminate the doers of cruel deeds. You can never change your ways, it is in your nature to show force, to eliminate the weak, and it will be one that remembers what you have done and with nothing but good intentions that will use those good intentions to strike back at you.”

  “You never understand. You don’t realize that the inferior races will always fear us. They will always hunt us and will not stop until we are all gone. I face this realization and take it on with understanding. I know that someday we will survive or the humanoid races will survive, and I want it to be us.”

  “I understand that I am possibly the strongest, largest magical female being in our universe, and I don’t want to use this power, this gift to kill innocent beings. Those with the daring to enter my home or endanger my young will face my overwhelming power, but I choose to live outside that possible reality. I want love, I want calm, I want serenity.”

  “So how do you, in your serene mind, justify and dismiss what the humanoid races have done to you, what they have done to us?”

  “I learn, I grow, and I don’t make the same mistake twice. That is what you are for. You are the dealer of strength. You are the wave of force. You are the front line in the battle that you crave. I am the bearer of your children, and my children will live free, happy, and innocent until the time comes that they are free to venture on their own and make their own decisions. I am the ruler of my home. I have made the life I choose for myself, and right now I choose to end this discussion until a later time of my choosing.” Gwithen stands up and flutters her snowy-white scales, sending pink dots glittering all around her. She lowers her head and stands tall on her hind legs, exposing her rear to Blethstole and waves her tail side to side. The scent, the view, Blethstole cannot refuse.

  When Gwithen awoke from her sleep, one of the most powerful and fascinating female awakenings in all the universes took place. When Gwithen awoke, she climbed to the top of her mountain and fluttered her scales. This sent her scent floating in the wind, but more potent than her scent is the sound that her scales made as they brushed against one another. Her scent is so potent that it literally floated around the entire globe of Kronton, alerting all dragon female and male alike that she has risen and is sexually receptive. If that is not astounding enough, the sound of her scales reverberating actually encircled the whole globe and traveled to the surrounding planets in the Maglical System. This combination of sound and scent drew dragons from all three planets in the Maglical System. This has caused a serious and alarming chain reaction throughout all three planets.

  First of all, the dragons have taken to the wing, making themselves visible, and this sends fear throughout all the humanoid races. The call to arms has already begun. The dragons have no interest in the lower forms of life at this point. Their first ambition is to, if possible, gain sight of the top dragon mare. This is worship to the dragons, and as much as they love to be bathed in grandeur, there is one time they all relish in the ability to show their admiration in something larger than themselves: the oldest, wisest, and most beautiful of all dragons—Gwithen. She is also mother to nearly 25 percent of all living dragons. No one knows how many female dragons are still alive, if any, but everyone knows who Gwithen is.

  Many have tried to slay the great white mare, and none have returned to talk about it. Truthfully, most who have tried to hunt down the mare have died trying to find her. Many more have died by dragons protecting the mare, and the very few that have reached her lair died without revealing any of its secrets, and Gwithen never talks about any of her encounters.

  It has been nearly a millennium without the sight of dragons, with the exception of Blethstole, the one dragon who took on all opposing races and fought them to their doom. Other dragons tried to fight and wipe out the humanoid races like Blethstole, but only Blethstole still lives to tell the stories. All his brethren have been slain. All other dragons have survived by living nomadically, rarely venturing outside their magically secure lairs. The sight of dragons gathers the humans, the elves, and the dwarves, and the stories are already being retold. The books are being read again, and the preparations have begun, because once the dragons have been seen, the attack is not far behind, the only question, where and when?

  Dragons have the truly amazing ability to lay dormant for what would seem an eternity. They need no food, no water; they just slumber like time is standing still. When they wake fully and take to the skies, all that changes; they need to feed and feed a lot. This is the time that the humanoid races are their favorite food. The dragons are like sea lions in a flow of penguins; it doesn’t take that many to fill them up, but they just keep eating and eating as long as the supply lasts. This is the most dangerous time for the humanoid races, because there are very few weapons that really can inflict serious damage to dragons, and the weapons that can are quickly attacked and destroyed. Magic is all but useless against dragons. Depending on the color of the dragon, they are immune to lots of magic, and only the strongest magic users can cast magic strong enough to affect the very large magical beings.

  This is a very dangerous time. Nearly twenty dragons of many colors have been spotted, and the humanoid races know they are on the menu. The dragons will attack without warning, without organization, scooping up any they see and feeding until they are satisfied. The stories and myths tell of times in history like this, when many dragons of all colors take to the skies. This has been written about and warned about, known as the Dragon Feast. It has been over a millennium since the last Dragon Feast and only twice documented in history, but the oldest of the magic users remember and warn of the danger to come. Kronton is now looking at very dark, very deadly days, and days like the ones ahead are what motivated humanoid races to join together, forge alliances, and focus all their attention toward wiping out the dragon as a species altogether.

  CHAPTER 24

  The Dragon Feast Has Begun

  The dragons surrounding the Shandeltowen Mountains are well aware that Blethstole has defeated Sillithver. Some of them actually fly to and land near Sillithver’s corpse, inspecting the dead dragon. Few are of legitimate size to challenge Blethstole, and none are ready to take this step, and inspecting th
e body of Sillithver makes the choice to leave Gwithen an easy one. Just because Gwithen has advertised her scent and sound does not mean all dragons come to her call. The young and small in size do not venture where they can easily be battered, or worse, by larger older dragons. Still almost thirty dragons have ventured to the Shandeltowen Mountains, and over twenty of them are from Strabalster and Fargloin.

  The immediate hunger starts the Dragon Feast. The dragons from other worlds use Kronton to begin their feeding, and this works greatly to their advantage. As long as they feed on Kronton, it makes the humanoid races less aware of their presence on their home world and theoretically more safe when they return to their own lair. The dragons fly out in search for food, and they are not limited. Anything that walks is targeted.

  Noireen is very close, and within the first day is just plain devastated. Most of the people are chewed up, and the villages and population centers around this area are simply leveled as dragons fly down land and walk through the houses and the buildings and structures built by the humans living here. This is easy pickings for the dragons, and feeding is all they think about. They knock over building with their bodies, swing their tails through them, kick them over with their legs, flushing the people out and eating them. The people fight with whatever they have, like swords, shovels, tables, chairs, axes, anything, but they are all scooped up and devoured. The once great kingdom of Shaspar is vacant and in ruin now, but there are populated areas dotted all around the Elbutan Forest and Highlands, and the dragons sniff them out.

  Valvernva is first met by one of the rarest of the dragons, the pink dragon, Kertinkpice. Kertinkpice is very large, big enough to give Blethstole a run for dominant male, but his caution and cunning nature give him patience, and he waits for another day to challenge the top male dragon. He lands on the tallest building in Valvernva and extends his wings to their full width, showing off his unique beauty. He is pink with red razor-like lines that stripe his body starting from the snout of his face and run the length of his body to his tail. He has very large wings for a dragon; the rubbery membrane starts high up his neck and runs down almost to his hind legs. They grow right from his back, and he has exceptionally nimble and useful front legs not attached to his wings, giving him great mobility on the ground. His wings being as long and wide as they are make him a great soarer through the sky.

  After he shows off his wing span and beautiful color, he folds and tucks his wings in tight to his body and starts to assault the buildings, knocking them over and flushing out the people. He grabs up the closest ones and eats them up, moving on to the next building, running through it with his body, and scooping up the people. One courageous person has made a bottle of booze into a flaming alcohol bomb, lighting a cloth that hangs from the top and hits Kertinkpice right in the face, with it setting him on fire. Kertinkpice is not too bothered by the flames and makes a point to eat this one. Before too long, he is joined by a green dragon and a gray dragon, and the dragons do not fight with one another; they hunt down all the people they can find, eat them, and flatten Valvernva, destroying it completely in the process.

  The sirens and bells and warning cries are roaring through Mourbarria, and Mournbow is watching as Valvernva is flattened and all its inhabitants eaten. Mourbarria presents a much more challenging situation for the dragons. Valvernva is leveled and has fed a pink, red, green, and gray dragon, which all fly back to their home worlds. There is a magnificent purple dragon who has fed on the beasts in the Terrashian grasslands but is craving for human. By the time he reaches Valvernva, it is decimated, and he heads to Mourbarria. He notices a yellow dragon in the large courtyard of the castle. This is a not fully mature dragon named Yarwellorn. Yarwellorn has been struck by three harpoons, one straight on and two to his sides, and he has been pulled to the ground by the well-armored men. They are getting ready to cover the dragon in a net, when Yarwellorn releases his Breath of Grianaslenth. This breath attack, although not deadly, is very useful. It covers the target in slime, making the target unable to grasp anything. The men cannot grasp their weapons or anything. They slip out of their hands. They cannot even stand; they fall to the ground. This is much more slippery than being covered in oil. This allows Yarwellorn time to pull out the harpoons and go mend his serious wounds.

  Pryenthious is circling around high above, watching as the events unfold, and Yarwellorn flies away. The men in Mourbarria are yelling, “There is another dragon!” Pryenthious circles around, relishing in the cries of the frightened and worried men warning of his presence. He studies the castle and sees the fairly good defense the castle has. The men that have been covered in slime will take too long to recover before Pryenthious’s attacks because they cannot quickly rid themselves of the slime. They can’t even get on their feet yet, and this is very good for Pryenthious, who dive bombs and scoops up men in his mouth. The slime doesn’t even taste that bad.

  The army of Mourbarria has a good defense in this situation. They have large catapults that they can wheel around and shoot very large harpoons that sink deep into the flesh and hold tight. The harpoons are tethered to the catapult with a very thick, very strong rope. The army of Mourbarria is large enough to have more catapults with freshmen moving around the courtyard and setting up defensive positions, waiting for Pryenthious to come into range.

  Pryenthious makes four dives, scooping up men and rising high, swallowing his catch, spitting the unwanted armor into the air. He now realizes the men have set up well enough to make successful attacks on him, so he thinks up a strategy to use in this fun game of cat of mouse. He flies down fast over the courtyard, and the men take aim ready to fire on the dragon, and he flies right past them, down below the castle wall, and the men cannot see him anymore. The men wait patiently, which seems like forever. They look up and all around in anticipation.

  Finally, Pryenthious flies up and lands on the castle wall. There are usually guards on the wall, but Yarwellorn has picked them off and eaten them all. The closest team of three men fires their harpoon at Pryenthious, and he very calmly leans to his left, and the harpoon just misses him to the right. “Oh, you need to have much better aim than that.” A second team of men shoots their harpoon, and Pryenthious leans to his left again, and the harpoon just misses again. The purple dragon laughs. “I love this. Is this the best you can do?” He lowers his head and unleashes a cloud of very dark purple smoke, almost black in color, and it engulfs the entire courtyard. This is his Breath of Halgespace. This attack is not deadly in itself; however, the effects are tremendous. The men are engulfed in black smoke, making visibility almost 0 percent. Not only are they blinded to their surroundings, but the smoke, when breathed, acts as a powerful hallucinogen, making the men feel spacey and in slow motion. They lose track of thought and forget, looking at their hands and looking around, forgetting that there is any danger, and one by one Pryenthious flies in, scooping up the men and eating them.

  The castle has been locked down, and Mournbow has ordered Inglelapse to do whatever he can do to try and contact Vegenrage. Inglelapse is in his chambers, using the best magic he can to try and reach out for Vegenrage. All the servants and personnel of the castle are deep within the castle, very quiet and praying the dragons don’t get in. The barracks have been emptied as all the armies are now being eaten by Pryenthious. He walks through the black haze, grabbing men with his hands, and he has two pair of hands on each wing. His wings are adjoined to his front legs, and they are very maneuverable, and he can flex them in all directions. He easily finds and devours all the Mourbarria army, helped by a blue dragon that has joined the feast.

  Pryenthious flies to the castle wall and perches there, using the claws from one of his hands like a toothpick, sliding the armor from his teeth. He tightens his stomach and bobs his head like he is going to belch and spews a hundred pounds of armor from his mouth. He launches from the castle wall and flies through a Dimension Door spell to his home world.

  Vegenrage tilts his head to the right, looking
like someone is calling him. Logantrance pauses his story, and Farrah notices Vegenrage is distracted. Logantrance sits up. “What is it?”

  “I am being …” he pauses, “called by Inglelapse. The castle of Mourbarria is in great danger. The dragons are attacking.” Vegenrage stands up. “Logantrance, I must go help them. They are in danger. People are dying, and they are asking for my help.”

  Farrah says, “I am going with you,” and she hops off the bed and stands by him.

  “Vegenrage, listen to me. These are very dangerous times. The dragons will feed on any living being they see. Be very careful, and remember dragons are the most powerful magical beings. Do not take for granted their cunning and their strength.”

  “I won’t.” He draws a magical Dimension Door, and he and Farrah walk through. They appear in Vegenrage’s home and collect a few things. then Vegenrage draws another Dimension Door spell and they walk through.

  They appear at the base of the stairs leading up to Mournbow’s chambers, and the large room is empty. There is a massive pounding on the wall around the door leading out to the courtyard. The door is locked with large wooden beams resting on large hooks on the doors that are effectively holding back the large intruder trying to get in. There is a large impact on the doors, and the whole wall shakes and dust and debris fall from the cracking wall.

  “Vegenrage, what is it?”

  “It’s a dragon.”

  There is another large pounding on the doors, and they start to buckle and give way near the top, breaking free and exposing the outside. Farrah follows Vegenrage as he runs up the stairs and knocks on the door to Mournbow’s chambers.

  “Mournbow, are you in there? It’s me, Vegenrage.”

  Mournbow opens the door. “Vegenrage, you have come.”

  Right then there is a huge cave-in at the front doors. The massive blue dragon has thrust his body through the doors, front legs first, and crashes them down.