What Sleeps under Nameless Peaks
26st of February 2007 A.D.
"Mom," you call through he headphones and water-proof mike you have been careful enough to bring out to this swim. "Turns out I am gonna be late for dinner..."
because I'll be diving into the lair of a dragon, you don't add. There are some times when you wonder if you should tell her what you're doing or just let her not worry, this
isn't one of those times.
So you just add a 'sorry,' take the grumbling on the chin and wait for her to say bye first before diving into the black waters. Well, you guess that is how a poet might call them, the light of cloudy day fades quickly down here, swarms of silvery fish quickly and songs of distant whales giving way to a quiet and stillness disturbed only by the by the gentle fall of marine snow and, the faint light of jellies, fish and stranger things you wish Tiffany was here with you to name, but you can see just fine. The waters seem to whisper you its secrets, the fall of every spiraling spec. It's almost hypnotic, you could imagine yourself going down and down, not coming up for weeks and months as you explore a world as vast as that which lies above the waves filled with its own tragedies and triumphs.
Are there mermaids down here or were-sharks to go with the werewolves, does Atlantis really lie beneath the sea? All questions you could ask and answer if you took the time, but before temptation can get the better of you the bottom comes into view, though that almost seems like the wrong word to use for it.
Nameless peaks jut upwards from the Abyssal plains, birthed in fire, fated never to see the sun. landslides rumble over mountain passes that have felt fewer feet than the surface of the moon. The very act of breathing a gas at this pressure would tear apart the delicate machinery of the human body.
Good thing I'm not human.
Gently you step onto the rock that feels pleasantly warm beneath your foot and notice something scuttling along, a ghostly white crab as a lion in its own narrow kingdom. It pays you no more mind that the night watchman back in Norway, though in this case it feels like you're the one being polite not to interrupt its feeding.
South and a little east you have yet to swim, the stone grows blacker, newer and the strange dancers in the deep, the eyeless fish and feathery jellies you wished you knew the names to grow fewer. The water is getting hotter, it's definitely not just you. There below you an arc of fire opens and closes rhythmically, breathing in sympathy to the one below.
What does the dragon think of the thing the Kingfisher and I seek?
The answer comes slow, not in words, but in flashes of emotion that are almost too vast to wrap your head around:
Heavy... painful... duty...contentment... slumber... balance unexpected.... closeness.
Lost 1 Essence -> Now at 16/18 (Question)
That last feeling reminds you of something you might have missed if you hadn't just spent a few days with Hank, that sense of taking care of one of your siblings 40% amusement at watching them rush around, 20% worry that they are going to bump into something, 90% fondness and it doesn't even matter that adds up to 150%. The treasure is painful to bear but it's helping the dragon stay close to its family... You almost start to look around for a clutch of eggs like but then you remember the other kind of dragon kin, the knights you had freed from Arawn's dungeons.
The Blood of Dragons needs power to keep flowing, all around you is a dragon nest of vast and terrible power and yet the magic does not spill into the sea directed, it's being sent somewhere along the ley lines.
What do you do?
[] Literally poke the sleeping dragon and try to talk to it
[] Swim up to the ship and ask them if they have a plan for the dragon
[] Call Odin and ask him what he's doing
[] Write in
OOC: ATP was still on so you only paid essence for the question.