It is that inky time of night when only the most dedicatedly nocturnal of beings are out and about in the Dominance.
On his purple mana storm cloud, curled up with head on tail just below the central column of the thunderhead, lies the slumbering form of Rexalc. He rests after a long, fruitful day of Zap Tag, clan meetings, and greeting newcomers to the Dominance. All seems peaceful, for no lightning or thunder rock the cloud tonight... and yet...
...And yet, the cloud is not truly at peace. For now, even as Rexalc's eyes begin to twitch behind his closed eyelids, the usual deep purple of the cloud begins to pale, with new colors swirl within. In fact cloud begins to seem more like a window. and in this window, silent visions take shape.
* * * * *
The scene revealed is that of an ocean -- but an ocean of clouds, not of water. Most are various shades of gray, but others. Others roil with all the colors of the rainbow, and some that are not. If you know the ways of magic, you can sense the vast amounts of mana these unusual clouds are drawing in from the ground below and releasing again in shimmering rains. In the dark blue sky above float three moons: the largest gold, the smallest silver, and the middle a shade that somehow eludes the eye -- is it dark emerald? Deep indigo? Here and there through the clouds jut huge crags, like great rocky fingers pointing the way to God. To all but the most cold-hearted of viewers, it is a scene to bring songs to the soul and tears to the eye.
It is on one of these great crags that you first see the dragons. All are shades of purple, all with black stripes, all with pure white eyes, and, most striking, all with bright white wings with feather-like scales - wings more angelic than draconic. There are five of them, a family unit - a father, a mother, and three offspring, two males and a female. The larger, older male offspring looks immediately familiar to most who might view this scene. For though he is smaller here, and without an air of hidden sadness, this can be none other than Rexalc - but Rexalc as he must have been countless centuries ago.
The dragons take flight as you watch, and it is obvious that to them, flight is no mere method of travel. For the five dragons seem to dance an aerial ballet as they go, weaving around each other in complex that delight the eye. Smiles of pure joy grace their reptilian faces.
Now huge humped backs crest through the clouds below, dwarfing the dragons. These new forms rise above the surface of the cloud sea, and you can see that it is a pod of great whale-like creatures, the smallest easily 150' long. These massive beasts cruise slowly above the clouds with flipper-like wings moving in slow swimming strokes that would seem inadequate to keep the creatures aloft - if, indeed, anything would not. The dragons dive toward the whale-beasts, looping around them playfully as they fly on, oblivious or uncaring.
The dragons' flight continues. Now they pass through what looks like floating jellyfish, creatures that shimmer in the same unnamable hues as the mana clouds below. And in the background you begin to see great, glowing circles at irregular intervals in the sky -- shining 2-dimensional discs that occasionally dim to give glimpses of unguessed-at worlds. These are, as any dragon of the Dominance can tell, dimensional gates, but in numbers that rival even the many gates of Alfandra itself.
And now... now, the dragon family begins to encounter more of their own kind -- dragons of many hues, but all with black stripes, all with white wings and eyes. Some sit on clouds that match their own hues, but join Rexalc's family in flight as they pass. Others are already on the wing. But all travel in the same direction, heading for some unknown rendezvous.
At last, the destination of the dragons becomes clear. For now, Rexalc and his family arrive at a great gathering of dragons, all circling overhead or perching on cloudtops around one great mana cloud. The five dragons now hover, speaking to one another, although there is no sound. Rexalc's father smiles proudly at his oldest son, and his mother, brother, and sister give him warm huggles. Then they backwing as Rexalc dives toward the mana cloud. The gathered dragons appear to roar in greeting at his approach.
Rexalc lands at the base of the cloud, smiling up at the great, multi-hued blowtop. He rears up on his hindquarters, spreads his great white wings, and closes his eyes. His features take on a look of great peace, perhaps even of rapture. Around him, cottony tendrils of cloud begin to swirl, seeming almost to caress him. The tendrils grow thick, and now Rexalc is encased in a shimmering cocoon of cloud. Still he stands, motionless.
Moments pass, and now the cloud-cocoon begins to change. Out of all its swirling colors, deep purple becomes dominant. And this shade sweeps out from the cocoon to every inch of the great cloud. The cocoon disperses, and Rexalc folds in his wings. He turns to greet his family, who even now are winging down to the cloud to meet him, with a joyful purple tear in his eye. The five dragons embrace, and a cheer goes up from the gathering - for Rexalc has been accepted by the mana cloud, and the bond between them makes it forevermore his home, his familiar, and most of all, his friend.
* * * * *
...And sleeping at the base of that very same cloud, as dream-images from his past dance and flicker above him, Rexalc smiles.
But this dream is not yet done.
*****
Rexalc dreams on.
The images in his mana cloud shift, and change, and now.
* * * * *
...Now it is day on Rexalc's homeworld. Twin amber suns gleam down on the surface of the cloud sea like the eyes of a loving Creator. Here and there, Storm Dragons flit about in twos and threes, flying for the sheer joy of flying.
The view moves to one of the many glowing dimensional gates hovering impossibly in the deep azure sky. Something seems wrong with it, but what? Is it somehow... dimming? Yes! A moment ago the gate seemed to open on a forest glade, and now - now, even as you watch, it turns black as pitch!
For long moments... minutes? hours?... the black disk hangs ominously above the clouds. All is still.
A mana cloud drifts by below the darkened gate. Some..._thing_... drops slowly down from the benighted opening, like a spider on a strand of web. It is fairly small, that much is certain... perhaps no bigger than a human child. But its shape is somehow hard to view, seeming almost offensive to the eye. Does it have tentacles? Claws? Insectoid wings? Multiple beaks? You cannot see... or do not want to.
Ever-so-gently, it lights upon the mana cloud.
The reaction is instantaneous. The swirling colors darken, and the cloud goes dark and foul! The cloud writhes as if in agony, throwing off cloudy streamers that soon become dripping pseudopodia. Lightning, first of many colors, then of pitch black, erupts from the envenomed cloud. Somehow, despite the silence of these dream images, you seem to hear a peal of thunder that sounds for all the world like a scream.
And then it is over. Where once there floated a wondrous cloud of swirling mana, there now hangs in the sky like a pulsating tumor a foul, bloated monstrosity of pure elemental chaos and evil. As if its work here is done, the tiny abomination lifts off of the cloud and sails out of sight, perhaps with more unthinkable tasks in mind.
More time passes. The blackened gate and befouled mana cloud hover together in the sky, twin offspring of unnatural darkness. Occasionally, the dark cloud whips out venomous appendages to strike at passing mundane gray clouds, as if desirous that its brethren should share its agony. If so, it is rewarded only with puffs of black foulness as its tentacles rip through them.
Now a lone skywhale wings by, and if it senses danger here, it gives no sign. In fact, its path takes it directly between the black gate and the pestilent storm cloud.
As it passes, a great knobby 50' black lance, dripping with venom and bile, shoots up from the cloud and impales the great beast. The whale thrashes in place as though staked to some invisible ceiling. It darkens, bloats, and explodes in a rain of black filth. Hundreds of twins to the original creature from the gate fly out from the carcass, the falling chunks of which are eagerly snatched up by toothy maws that form on the corrupted cloud's surface.
As if all this were all part of some perverse signal, the dark gate now erupts with such a tidal wave of blasphemous horror that you cannot help but recoil. The shapes you see!... a 100' beast like a multi-legged rhino with a segmented body... a bat-like creature, its head a mass of writhing tentacles... an ape, its hairless skin like that of a slug... all flapping, crawling, oozing across the sky in gross defiance of all nature.
*****
...and as he sleeps below these disturbing images, Rexalc's sleep-twitches become more pronounced. A cold wind blows out from this cloud... as does an ominous sound like distant thunder.
*****
As your attention is drawn back to the cloud, you see that, as is often the case with dreams, time has moved on unexpectedly. Now, the entire sky around the black gate has become a mass of corruption, with multiple tainted mana clouds massed together in a horridly quivering hive. Ever so often a dripping maw opens, and one of countless abominations crawls forth. Some are devoured again, while others flap off on errands of which it is best not to think.
A smallish purple dragoness flits up to the nest, showing no fear, only curiosity. It is Rexalc's sister.
*****
Rexalc's movements as he sleeps become more agitated still.
*****
She hovers there, head tilted curiously as she observes this phenomenon. Behind her, unseen, rises a long, whip-like appendage, a cruel barb at its tip. It strikes forward, impaling the dragoness through the spine as her mouth opens in a silent scream and her skin blackens and pulsates and...
...But no... the scene darkens, as if this memory is too horrid even to dream.
Instead, the visions that flash in rapid succession are of the carnage wrought by the abominations on this innocent world. Visions of skywhales devoured, of clouds corrupted and befouled, of small flights of storm dragons ambushed and dismembered... or worse, _twisted_....
*****
Lightning crackles around the fringes of the mana cloud. Rexalc's sleeping face is contorted, as if in pain.
*****
The scene changes again, to one of war. Squadrons of Storm Dragons flash by, Rexalc among them -- their visages of anger, hatred, and grim determination all the more frightening to be seen on such carefree creatures. Mana clouds of many colors, but all now in darker, angry shades, rumble and roil as they move forward like great battleships in the sky. Ahead, the enemy: an entire horizon now blackened into unnatural night. The gathered dragons and their clouds seem puny and insignificant against this hellish backdrop, and you see that for them, it is far too late... if, indeed, there was ever hope for them at all.
The battle is joined. Great arcs of multicolored lightning flash out from the gathered mana clouds, sizzling away the horrors they strike. Hailstones like cannonballs fly out to smash putrid skulls and crush chitinous armor. And the pleasure on the faces of the Storm Dragons as they view the results of their attack seems almost as horrific as the carnage from which it springs.
But now the billowing horde of monstrosities responds in kind. As the dragons and their clouds advance, they are met with a barrage of black, knotted javelins, dark lightning, and gouts of foul acidic juices miles in length. Many dragons are impaled, struck, or sprayed by the attack, and fall screaming as their bodies warp and ripple into the polluted cloud sea like fallen angels punished for tasting of sin. Others are devoured by their own mana clouds as they are corrupted by the assault.
Now the armies meet. The swarm of abominations, now hundreds of miles across, wraps itself greedily around the dragons like a lover gone mad. All is then dark, save for the electric blasts from the dragons as they lash out against their foes. By the staccato light, you see claws, tentacles, jaws, and appendages that defy description clash in unholy conflict.
The view moves on yet again, now to the exterior of the quickly-growing mass of contagion. The side of a corrupted mana cloud bugles out and explodes in a shower of foulness as three untainted clouds and a small group of dragons, Rexalc and his father among them, break free and retreat. Of Rexalc's brother there is no sign. Their bodies are bloodied without exception... one is missing a forelimb, and several show signs of tainting from the horrors. And all of their faces are stained with horror and grief.
The darkness rolls forward after them like an apocalyptic tide, and the dragons' wings beat frantically to stay ahead of it. Again comes a barrage foul projectiles from the horrors. More dragons fall, skewered or twisted horribly. Beside Rexalc, another mana cloud is hit by the black lightning and is transformed. As he watches helplessly, it throws out a razor-sharp appendage that takes off his father's head, sending it spinning down into the gloom below... followed by Rexalc's tears of helpless rage.
The visions change once more, and now Rexalc and his mana cloud are alone. Darkness and horror surround them, and together they throw off blast after blast of lightning, hail, and hurricane-force winds, desperate to hold of the abominations just a moment longer. Now you see that Rexalc has a goal in mind, for ahead of his cloud is a gate, as yet untouched by the horrors. The cloud begins its passage through the gate before the beasts can cut off its escape, but Rexalc himself stays on the far side of it, still breathing out crackling death at his tormentors. Finally, he begins to pass through... and for only the second time, these visions include a sound. For, just before drifting through the gate, Rexalc roars at the pursuing abominations. It is a sound to rend souls, and in it you can hear anger, grief, hatred... and a promise.
*****
...and as he sleeps on his mana cloud, while the visions continue in the cloud above, and while lightning crackles and thunder rumbles, purple tears roll down Rexalc's cheeks... twins to tears shed centuries ago.
...And if the God of Dreams is a merciful god, he does not show it here... for, despite Rexalc's pain, blessed wakefulness does not yet find him... and he dreams on.
*****
The thunder quiets, the lightning ceases, but still Rexalc sleeps on... and still the dream-images in his cloud continue.
*****
How long is eternity? Watching the images that appear in Rexalc's cloud in rapid succession, you suspect that Rexalc could tell you. For now, the visions that appear are of countless worlds through which Rexalc and his cloud drift. He passes through worlds of wonder and of horror, yet through most all of them he lies curled on his mana cloud, which disguises itself to blend in with the native skies. The visions seem to be in no particular order, for Rexalc appears fully grown on one world, in the next, no larger than when he fled his homeworld. It is as if none of these worlds mean anything to him. They are just to him places. None are... _home_.
The rapid-fire images pause but once, showing Rexalc standing on a hill beside a human man with slate blue skin and a great white beard, bearing a mighty staff. His brown robes bear symbols, astrological signs of an unknown reality. The pair gaze up at a gate in the sky above them. The human's face is calm, if intense, but Rexalc's expression is unreadable. The human raises his staff above his head in both hands, and the gate begins to shrink... turning pitch black just before it closes altogther.
The images hurry on. Rexalc laying on his cloud as aircraft of strange design roar overhead, oblivious to his presence. Rexalc discovered by tiny sprites, who tease and tug at him until he roars angrily and snaps at them, driving them away. Rexalc passing over a city miles high with great smokestacks belching fire and filth skyward. Rexalc drifting uncaring through a great black void while titanic mad yellow eyes watch him pass. Worlds without number flash before your eyes, dimensions teeming with life and worlds quiet as the grave. But, save for his mana cloud, Rexalc is alone. Always, always alone. Loneliness and despair seem to flow out from his dream-form in waves that wash against your soul.
*****
...and his cloud is now a somber shade of purple, a suicide-indigo that is painful to see... and then...
*****
And then... something _changes_. The images slow once more, and stop. Again you see Rexalc sleeping, head on tail, a mirror to his waking-world form below. The cloud drifts over a benighted landscape that seems nevertheless lush and welcoming as its thunder rumbles and its lightning flashes and it prepares to recycle the mana it has drawn into itself as it did on a world lost in space and time. Rexalc's head rises sleepily. He appears to... sniff?... and then snaps to full wakefulness. And now, an expression forms on his previously numbed visage, one that now looks as alien on him as sorrow once did centuries before.
It is hope.
Rexalc rises to stand on his hindquarters, stretching his great white wings to their utmost and beating them powerfully. His cloud slows to a stop, and a great flash of lightning illuminates its entirety, silhouetting Rexalc's form to any viewers in the land ahead. He moves to the storm's edge, and waits.
Fipping tail over snout over the top of his cloud and landing right in front of him to give him a snuggle hug comes a beautiful dragoness with a merry face and scales that reflect light like prisms.
Quelonzia.
More dragons arrive to welcome him. Burath. Arangast. Dester'edra. Massive Airkanstryll. And more. They greet, and hug, and Rexalc's cloud changes to a bright white with purple highlights, casting off multiple rainbows reflecting Rexalc's joy.
Scenes of Rexalc's days in the Dominance follow, many no doubt familiar to you. Rexalc talking, eating, and playing with so many, many dragons. Shimmering K'Urlac StormShadow and madcap Greffindel the Plaid. Sagely Cerulean and gentle Spitfire. Wry Sigridir and the merry Odetta. And more, always more. Now Rexalc forms a new family, a new clan named to honor his original one. There are parties, treasure hunts, poetry recitals, days filled with comedy and drama and everything in between, and Rexalc's happiness and contentment and the love he feels for the Dominance and all the beings in it...
*****
...are reflected on the smile on the face of his sleeping form and the lighter shade and softer from of his cloud, with its smoother, softer form, and then...
*****
...Then, the view shifts, moving to a far corner of the Dominance, and then up, and up still more, to where one may find doors to many dimensions, much as was the case on Rexalc's homeworld. The view focuses on one portal in particular, glowing in the night sky over a starlit glade. As you watch, the gate flickers, and goes black, and... _bulges_... outward.
...And, as if a dam holding back some cursed lake of Hell has burst, a black tide of blasphemous horrors pours forth from the gate, pouring down onto the Dominance. And it is all swept away.
The horrors pour down into caves to find sleeping dragons to devour, or _twist_. They force their way into shops and meeting places, dragons chatting, eating or drinking even as they are devoured, oblivious to their fate. They dive into nests, finding eggs... and hatchlings.
All of it. The Kaffee Klatch, Arcanities, The Alternative Dragon, The River of Minds... all the stores, all the places, all the dragons. Gone. The sky goes dark with corrupted mana clouds and flying horrors. And now the horrors gather around the Statue of the Unknown Dragon, and as they writhe and dance obscenely around it the Statue itself responds, turning into a dark, tentacular mockery of itself, and the abominations cavort in the darkness and you see that among them is what was once a young dragoness but is now one of the horrors dark corrupted and foul but as if in unspeakably cruel jest left with her PURE WHITE WINGS....
*****
"NOOOOOO!!!!"
Rexalc snaps awake, his pure white eyes wide with remembered horrors.
"NO! BY THE CREATOR! THEY HAVE FOUND ME! THEY HAVE _FOLLOWED_ ME! IT IS MY FAULT, I SHOULD NEVER HAVE COME HERE, NEVER STAYED..!"
And below his cloud, the land bears the brunt of Rexalc's distress, lightning scorching the plains and hurricane-force winds snapping trees like twigs.
Paws take hold of Rexalc's shoulders, shaking him urgently, and a familiar voice cries, "Rexalc! REXALC!! Wake UP! It's okay! It was a dream! Only a dream!!"
It is Rhia.
On the far side of the mana cloud, Rhiadorana, clansister to Rexalc and just recently a tenant on his cloud, had sat watching the dream-visions in quiet awe, joy alternating with horror at what she's seen. But as the dream reached its horrific conclusion and the land began to suffer for it, she had rushed to Rexalc's side.
"A... dream?" says Rexalc, groggily.
"Yes, Rex," she replies in warm, gentle tones, "only a dream. But a BAD one." She shivers. "Oh, Rex, I'm so sorry about your home... and your family... I mean, I've heard you mention them before, but..."
"You _SAW_!?!" he cries, Rhia recoiling. "WHAT DID YOU SEE???"
"I... well, I saw your past... what happened to your world. (I really _am_ sorry, Rex)... and then you dreamed about it happening here. It _was_ horrible, Rex, but it's over now. Just a dream."
Then, a half-hearted smile on her face, she says, "Geez, Rex, if this is going to happen every time you have a dream, I may have to move somewh-"
"You do not understand! My mana cloud would not so violate me as to broadcast my _dreams_ for all to see! This was NOT a dream! This was PROPHECY!!"
Rhia's eyes widen, her face beginning to mirror the horror in Rexalc's own. "_Prophecy_? But... you mean that."
Rexalc's expression goes cold and hard, his words like daggers of ice.
"Yes. They're coming."
*****
...And somewhere over a remote corner of the Dominance, the silvery disc of a dimensional gate flickers... and goes dark.
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