James Ward - Pool of Twilight

"Er, don't mention it," Trooper said, seeming at a loss as he turned his gaze from one mage to the other.

"Can you stay a while?" Listle asked the two ancient mages hopefully, but Brookwine and Winebrook shook their heads.

"I'm afraid we dare not-"

"— linger, dear Listle. We must return to-"

"— inform Primul of this development," they said in their fluid manner.

"You know how the green elf thinks us-"

"— to be flighty, and how angry he-"

"— gets when we dilly-"

"— dally."

Listle laughed despite her recent ordeal. Seeing her old friends always lifted her heart, no matter the circumstances. "Take care, you two," she whispered, hugging them tightly. "And don't let Primul bully you." In a wink the mages vanished, and two glowing sparks fluttered out of the clearing.

Listle fell silent then. Her worst fears had been realized. Her secret had been revealed. She knew the others would never regard her the same way again, especially Kern.

Trooper spoke, as if sensing her thoughts. "Well, let's have no more talk of leaving tonight," he said testily. "It's too late for such serious matters, and this old man needs his sleep." With that he rolled himself in his blanket and almost instantly began snoring.

Listle saw Kern gazing at her, the expression in his eyes impossible to read. She took a hesitant step toward him, wishing he would say something… anything. For a moment she thought he was going to, but then he too turned away and, climbing into his bedroll, shut his eyes tightly.

Listle felt a preternatural chill behind her. She looked up to see Miltiades. The paladin seemed to be regarding her with his empty eyes.

"It is a burden, being so different, is it not?" he said softly in his eerie voice.

"Yes," she whispered. "It is."

"You must not despair, Listle Onopordum," he said, a stern note in his usually gentle voice. "You fought hard to have the chance to live. Do not throw it away, for any reason."

With that the skeletal knight stepped away into the shadows, leaving her feeling completely and utterly alone.

A scream of rage filled the cavern of the pool of twilight.

"Why did you not tell me that sunlight would destroy my beautiful shadow fiends?" Sirana ranted. Her lovely hands were clenched into claws, her misshapen face twisted even more grotesquely than usual.

Was it not obvious? the guardian of the pool asked mockingly. They were creatures of darkness. How could they possibly withstand the burning rays of the sun?

Sirana's wings flapped violently, casting off spatters of greasy black feathers. "Tell me, great guardian of the pool," she spoke acidly. "You, who promised me so much power. Tell me, why does my revenge yet go unfulfilled?"

Bubbles burst sluggishly on the pool's metallic surface. As I told you long ago, sorceress, you are dealing with powerful forces. There is only one way you will ever gain the power you need to exact your vengeance. Sparkling flecks of twilight appeared in the pool, swirling at its center. You must enter the pool…

Sirana shook her head, though entranced by the specks dancing beneath the pool's surface, even as similar sparks swirled beneath her dusky skin. She knew she must not enter the pool of twilight. To do so would mean imprisonment beneath its murky depths.

But, she mused, wouldn't it be worth the price, to finally gain sufficient power to exact her revenge?

Sirana had no idea if that stray thought was her own or the guardian's. The flecks of twilight swirled faster, becoming a hypnotic whirlpool.

Wouldn't entering the pool be worth the small sacrifice? She could avenge her father's death and bring about the destruction of that wretched city, Phlan, once and for all.

Slowly, she began to approach the edge of the pool.

It wasn't as if she would have to be the pool's guardian forever, she reminded herself. She had only to wait until the first unwary traveler happened upon the cavern. How easy it would be, to convince some lesser being to enter the pool's depths.

Sirana balanced on the rocky edge. The turgid water lapped mere inches below her clawed feet.

Come, sorceress. Is not vengeance worthwhile, whatever the cost?

"Yes," she whispered, the swirling flecks of twilight reflected in her blankly staring eyes. "I must have my vengeance."

Sirana plunged into the pool of twilight

She felt as if she were freezing into ice and burning to ashes all at once. The thick fluid dragged her body down. Sparks flashed in front of her eyes; the lack of oxygen seared her lungs. She clamped her mouth shut, fighting the urge to draw a breath. Oh, why had she done this foolish thing? Her consciousness began to grow faint.

Finally she could stand it no longer. She opened her mouth, filling her lungs with the pool's water in one horrible, shuddering breath.

She was not drowning!

She took another breath of the thick, metallic water, and another, and another. With each, she felt incredible energy pulsing through her veins, infusing every fiber of her being. The power she had experienced before was nothing compared to the primal magic she now felt coursing through her body, forging her anew into something awesome and terrible, into…

… the guardian of the pool.

Even as Sirana reveled in her new incarnation, the waters of the pool began to froth and bubble furiously. In a spray of shimmering foam, a huge creature burst forth from its waters and soared toward the heights of the cavern.

"Free!" a wild, thunderous voice trumpeted. "After all these centuries, at last I am free!"

The massive creature whirled about the cavern, stretching his midnight wings in ecstasy. The black dragon was a great, ancient beast armored with countless scales as hard and gleaming as onyx. The dragon's name was Dusk, and in all the northlands of Faerun there was not an older or more powerful creature of his kind. A full two hundred feet from his horned snout to the spike-studded tip of his tail, there was strength enough in his claws to rend mountains to dust.

The dragon alighted beside the pool. One of his black eyes shone in utter satisfaction, while the other was dim and clouded, blinded by an ancient but not forgotten wound. That foolish half-fiend, Sirana, had finally yielded to the temptation the dragon had dangled before her. Now she would be the pool's guardian, trapped in its silvery waters. Now Dusk would do what Sirana had been too weak and moronic to accomplish-completely and utterly destroy the abominable city of Phlan!

Memories flickered through Dusk's mind.

Three centuries ago he had ruled the skies over the Moonsea. All the cities along the coast had lived in fear of his shadow. Dusk had plundered wherever he went, amassing a hoard of riches that made the treasure of a hundred kings pale in significance.

Then he had devised his most brilliant plan.

He flew from mountain peak to mountain peak, from ruin to ruin, speaking with the other evil dragons that lived along the shores of the Moonsea. With sly, cunning words, he played upon the hatred that all dragons felt for human, dwarven, and elvenkind. He lit a spark in the hearts of the evil dragons-red, blue, green, and black-until that spark grew into a burning wildfire. One dark dawn, a hundred dragons flew from their hidden lairs to join his army and fight as one, assailing all the lands around the Moonsea.

Thus began the first dragon-rage.

Folk cowered in their cities as destruction rained down from above. Fire and acid, lightning and poisonous clouds, mayhem and devastation. Dragon wings blotted out the sun, and dragon roars boomed like thunder. It was glorious. And Dusk was the most magnificent of them all. The other dragons looked to him as their exalted leader. The tribute they had agreed to pay would make him lord over a mountain of treasure such as Faerun had never seen.