Annika heard the other voices ring out, “Bring the builders!”
Two women came strolling lazily down the hall. “Can't be more than a couple feet, guys. That's not even thirty seconds of work. So relax.” They sauntered down to the man holding the torch, cracking their knuckles saying, “We'll be out in a jiffy.” They turned to the ice, and a tunnel began to form through it. The two magic users excavated ten feet in just a few moments, and Annika went to stand next to them. Sweat was starting to bead on their faces, but they continued to press on. After fifteen feet, the young orc woman could see they were tired and beginning to flag.
“Enough, take a break.” She said, stepping forward and jamming her fist through the snow, lengthening the tunnel by hand. She managed to dig in a couple feet before the snow started to lighten. Others ran forward to finish opening it, and all stepped out to an unusual landscape.
Where before a vast white plain spread from the base of a cliff, now there was an immense brown crater. The sky was dark with dust and dirt filling the atmosphere. All the snow had been blasted away leaving the bare earth beneath exposed. A large green boulder sat in the crater, brown and white spots upon it, and Annika didn't like the feeling it filled her with.
Slowly the rock began to move, and slowly it began to unfurl. An immense serpentine Wyrm stretched itself across the crater. It stretched the entire diameter before it yawned. The creature shook its head, before jumping and launching itself into the air. Dust, dirt, and snow cascaded from its body, leaving large piles in the center of the crater.
Annika's teacher was standing next to her. She reached out a hand, touching her young pupil before saying, “Now we go to your dragon. He should be finishing his business right about now.” The old woman turned back, heading into the cave to prepare for their journey.
The young woman chased after her, “We go? You're coming with me?
“Of course I am, you're still too stubborn and bullheaded to survive without me.” She looked sideways at her young friend, “Besides, you haven't even learned my name yet. At the rate you're progressing, you'll attain the proper level in fifteen years or so.” The old woman let out one sharp laugh as Annika stood stunned. She'd never considered she didn't know her teacher's name.
Chapter Forty One
Tyrosh stepped from the elevator, seeing the door to Martell's apartments open. She approached cautiously, trying to peek around the corner to see what was happening. She saw her son clutching Martell's face, their eyes locked together. She could sense the power struggle happening between the two men, and felt it lessen. One of them had won.
She watched Lov let go of the old man's face, turning away from him and looking to Tyrosh.
“Hello, Mother.” The young half-dragon said, stepping forward. His legs gave out underneath him, and he fell to the floor.
“Lov!” Tyrosh cried out, rushing to her son's side. His eyes were rolled up in his head as she checked him for injuries. She glared up at Martell, stepping towards him menacingly.
Her father appeared before her, his hands outstretched to stop her. “Please, Tyrosh, I've lost a grandson. I don't want to lose you, too.”
She glared at her father, and he stepped back as if she had slapped him physically. “What ever is happening, I know you're a part of it. So don't touch me!” She stepped past him, striding towards the man who was causing all of these problems. Tyrosh transformed, her jaws widening and her face elongating. She ate Martell in one single gulp, then turned to her son to see if it had any effect on him.
Lov sat up, shaking his head and rubbing where it had hit the ground. “What happened? Is it done? Did we win?” He asked, stretching out a hand for his mother to help him to his feet.
Tyrosh smiled down at her little boy, eager to hold him close to her and tell him how proud she was of him. But a glint in her son's eyes stopped her. She squinted at him, rubbing her fingers along her ears. “Who are you?” She asked, her lip raising in a snarl. “One thing I know, you are not my son.” She crept forward, eyeballing the body of Lov, wondering who was in control.
Her son laughed, it was full of cruelty and malice. “You have no idea what's happening right now. Sad to see Dalanar's spawn fall on such times. I must say, you and your family have been quite disappointing. From your husband that caused my servants to quake in their boots, but died without a whimper. To your boy who didn't stand a chance, and still chose to fight a futile fight. And then there's you, the grieving widow. Unable to cope with what has happened to her, and surrendering to her base nature to clear a way for her son to do her dirty work.” He glared at her from the floor he sat upon. “Still, I've defeated every other champion this world has sent at me. I’ve even perverted enough of them to give me a veritable army. So who are you to think you can stop me?”
If looks could kill, Lov's body would have been a quivering blob on the floor. “You have my son. Didn't you ever learn, never stand between a mother bear and her cub.” Tyrosh grabbed the hand of her son, feeling herself transported to another plane of existence. She stood, barefoot in purple sand. Tyrosh reached down, picking up a handful of it, admiring its beauty as she let it slip between her fingers. She saw nothing else in any direction. Even the sky above her was dark and blank. Lov's mother felt her anger well up inside of her. “What is this? I thought you wanted to fight me?”
“Actually, I want to seduce you to my side.” The voice boomed from the empty dark sky, reverberating through Tyrosh. “Something tells me I made that plan an impossibility when I took over your son.”
“That something is telling you right!” Tyrosh screamed up at the sky, “Now come fight me, and quit hiding like a coward!”
Laughter echoed across the landscape, sounding like a deep belly laugh. “You don't have the strength to compete with me!” Tyrosh felt as if her skull was being crushed, and she knew the battle had started. “I'm going to enjoy devouring your world.” The voice taunted her, as the pressure slowly increased.
Tyrosh realized this was her last chance. This being wanted to destroy her family, her life, everything. And with that realization came the one that she had nothing left to lose. A deep well of power rushed through her. She gave into her dragonhunger, and it forced her to grow. She grew so large she saw the edge of the desert that was this world, finding the small ocean hundreds of miles away, and yet still she grew. She launched herself from the planet, continuing to grow until her size rivaled it.
She saw a green flash in the distance, and approached it carefully. As she drew nearer, she saw it was a Wyrm, ancient and evil feeling. He unfurled himself, stretching lazily, and Tyrosh saw that as large as she was that he was still the larger. “More impressive than I thought.” He said, taking a moment to scratch his belly. “Perhaps one of Dalanar's children still has power enough to challenge me.”
Tyrosh let loose a roar, closing with this being and grappling with him. She felt triumphant and victorious as she started the fight, easily overpowering her opponent. She attempted to force her will upon the Wyrm, but ran into a shield she couldn't penetrate.
He laughed in her face, taking the chance to snap her on the neck and draw blood. She felt herself being overpowered, and the pressure on her skull increased. A sense of hopelessness welled up within her as the creature said, “Silly fool. You don't stand a chance.” before he cast her away.
Tyrosh felt herself falling, shrinking at the same time. She slammed into the purple sand, a large dust cloud leaping from the ground to surround her before it dissipated.
She felt the presence of someone next to her and looked to see a demon with horns like an auroch, green scales glowing as if polished to a fine sheen. He stood looking down on her with orange eyes, his cloven hooves digging into the sand. “As I said, silly fool. You and your son would have been such prizes to coerce to my side. But it appears fate didn't have that set in motion.” He smiled wickedly down at her, flashing his fangs before continuing, “Still, when one has all the pieces on the board, I guess one s
houldn't complain.”
Tyrosh felt her leg give out from under her, and she dropped to one knee in the sand. “No...you...can't...win!” Tyrosh struggled against his will, struggled against his power. “How! How can you win?”
“I've told you, my dear.” The demon replied, cleaning out his nails. “I own both sides of the board. The dragons have sold their souls to me, and Dalanar is weakened.” He smiled wickedly at her, “I have won. Your son gave me the victory.”
“NO!” Tyrosh screamed in defiance as her dragonhunger surged through her renewed. “You will not take my son!” Lov's mother gave in to her base aggression, feeding the power of her love to her hunger, and it ate it. Her pride given power, it struggled for a way to loosen this monster's hold on her son. It took her through the motions of a powerful spell, and when Tyrosh realized what it was doing, she agreed with its actions.
It twisted the very existence of the dragons on this world, causing their magic to become unstable. “No!” The demon reached out to touch her, his fingers raking her beautiful elven skin. “I'm not going to let you snatch this easy victory away from me!”
“The easy victory is already gone.”
Lov shook his head to clear it, seeing his mother smiling at him. “Goodbye, my son. Keep your father and I close in your heart.” Slowly, she began to melt away, like dust in the wind. The melting form that was his mother coalesced on the floor, forming into a dragon skull before Lov.
“No! Not you, Mother!” He screamed, reaching out to touch her skull. He was shocked to see his skin, which was the same creamy brown of his father's. His scales were gone, and he couldn't stop looking down at his hands in disbelief, wondering what was happening. He stretched out his hands to his mother's skull, hoping to hear a glimmer of her voice, but nothing answered him. He clutched it to his chest and cried, happy with victory but utterly crushed with devastating loss. Lov was giving into his grief, letting the horrors of the last few years truly wash over him.
That's how Nord found him an hour later, his mother's skull clutched tightly to his chest, the Breath of the Titans on the floor before him. If he hadn't known the people involved, he wouldn't have recognized Lov. Nord ran forward, wrapping his arms around his nephew. “I'm sorry, Lov. We won, but I'm not sure the cost was worth it.” The tall elf ran his hand lovingly over Tyrosh's skull.
Jaxon shooed the others from the room, leaving this family to grieve for its lost members.
Epilogue
Two men sat in chairs by the fire, each holding a drink and smoking on a pipe. “I have to say, Asheron, that was one hell of a battle.”
The other man took a long drink from his glass before speaking. “To be sure my brother, you won even with my cheating. I didn't expect that to happen.” He leaned forward, stretching out his arm and pointing to the other old man. “Just remember, this is one battle. You still haven't won the war.”
Dalanar snorted in contempt, “Of course I haven't. This struggle will go on until the end of time. You should know that better than anyone. Just remember my brother, no physical contact with the world or it’s fair for me to do so, too. I know you don't want that fight.”
“You're right, I don't.”
Breath of the Titans: The False Titanbringer: Complete Trilogy Page 51
