Hidros Orbit
Ominek floated in the void in his draconic form lazily, allowing himself a moment to bathe in the nearby star’s light and drink the heat and energy in. The work of clearing the station of all living life was a trivial one for a dragon of his age, and while he didn’t technically need the rest, he still indulged sleeping. Sleep for him was the rare act of silencing his mind to the whispers of his father’s and Sauridius’ voices. He took respite in the stillness of his mind in those moments, rejuvenating his resolve and defenses against their corrosive effects on the mind and soul.
As the mighty red scaled dragon stirred back to consciousness, his eyes opened slowly, narrowing to small slits in the unblocked light of the nearby star. Ahead and below him sat the orbital station the Brotherhood had built above the world to manage traffic coming and going to the planet and to the system. Telmok his older brother, swam through the void as a small swarm of younger dragons moved with him, like smaller fish swimming in the wake of a large shark. They were but minnows to his size, yet still no less dangerous. Especially to the magic-less humans below. It brought a satisfied grin to Ominek’s razor fanged mouth.
“Telmok. To me!” he bellowed. His voice carried across the aether as though space had air for the sound to travel and propagate.
The larger wyrm’s head snapped in his direction and swam his way over in the void, coming to a stop a respectable distance from him. “I’m going to descend to the planet’s surface. Hold the skies. Do not let any humans reach the planet. I must perform the ritual spell father provided me.”
Telmok bowed his head respectfully. “The humans will not pass our defenses. They cower weakly among the asteroid field.” He swept his head towards the distance, where several small objects glinted off the light of the star. “A few tried to probe our control and came up wanting.”
Ominek nodded. “Do not underestimate them. They can be dangerous and unpredictable when pushed. And make no mistake about it, we have definitely pushed them. But if we succeed here, it will matter little and we will have gained the ultimate weapon to prosecute the war.”
Telmok nodded. His forked tongue shot out between fangs and flicked several times before returning to his mouth. “I taste nothing but fear and victory today.”
For once, even Ominek had a hard time arguing the feeling. All they needed was to execute the plan. “I leave the rear guard to your talons, then. Don’t screw it up, brother.” He turned and winged for the atmosphere. Even though his father had appointed him to run this mission, Telmok was larger and more powerful. It took a great deal of focus to beat down the fear of presenting his back and wings to a larger predator than himself.
As he flew down past the station, he could already sense the lesser dragons going about the work of shackling all the dead on the station. They would use the undead as pawns should the humans actually board the station. While the Federation would expect it, there was no defense to stop it unless they possessed a mage powerful enough to cancel the shackling spell. He’d already accounted for the few mages capable of doing so. Most sitting idly by in their golden towers on Eryn. The foolish bastards were going to sit out the most important siege conducted in the sector, secure in their ignorance.
His wings flared out once he struck the upper atmosphere and bathed in the heat. The friction of reentry warming his scales and he rolled to spread the heat around. It drew a contented draconic pur from him as he flew. When the warm red glow around him faded and the air cooled, he morphed himself back into his human form. No reason to draw unwarranted attention before executing the plan. No, he had some prep work to do for the ritual spell. Using dark energy to manipulate gravity, a faint violet aura surrounded him as he flew straight for the center of a massive crater. He sensed nothing powerfully magic at the base of the crater, but there was an unnatural storm that roiled and spun above it. The only clue of something magic in this world. He’d seen this kind of behavior at wellsprings as well.
He recalled his father's instructions. “There is a powerful weapon on Hidros Ominek. One that, if we can secure, will win us victory for the rest of the war. But you must move quickly and quietly if we are to secure it. You will find it at the base of a massive crater. They shielded it from detection, so you won’t sense it. Look for the storm, and travel to the eye. That is where your work must take place.”
As he flew towards the storm, he warded himself with a shield of fire, and the magic induced rain hissed into steam around him. A short trip later and he burned his way through the eye of the storm easily. Dropping the shield, he landed at the base of the crater and scanned around at the eye of the storm, then skyward. He would need to cast an illusion spell to prevent prying eyes from spying on him here. He did the signs and gestures for both reality magic and cast several layered illusion spells, the pink energy billowing outwards from him in waves and the air above him rippled as it bent and refracted the light in such a way that it looked as though no one stood in the center. He clapped his hands together, satisfied.
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“Now, to get started setting the table for the party.”
Placing a hand on the moist soil, he could feel the slightest trickle of aether seeping up from below. His father neglected to tell him what exactly he was pursuing, but he had several guesses. He drew in a slow breath, tasting the ambient aether. It reminded him of Aeryn sweet rolls. He might detest the elves, but he had to admit they had a knack for sweets.
Ominek rose upright, ending his temporary reverie. He drew several void runes with his right hand, opening multiple small void portals. Small doorways into a tiny pocket, really. Like a self-contained pocket of the void about the size of a room. He reached in and slowly withdrew several specially crafted urns. Each urn had a rune carved on its face. There were eight total, one for the four elements and four planes. Accompanying the primary runes were small bands of enchantments for holding massive quantities of aether. They were power cells for fueling his ritual, essentially. Empty power cells at that.
Ominek placed each urn carefully onto the moist soil, then closed the void portal. Channeling some void magic, he pressed back against gravity, prying himself free of Hidros’ pull and floating up ten feet into the air. He drew and wove several runes, creating a complex spell frame work then cast it. Each urn floated into the air, then drifted into a position in an octagonal pattern. Lines of aether connecting them all together like a grid work. Now that the urns were all connected by the framework of the ritual’s foundation, he just needed to gather his acolytes to begin the magic investitures.
He quickly wove the portal spell and cast a glance skyward. Telmok had best hold the skies. He could ill afford setbacks during this phase of the plan. Once the aetheric seal was broken below, they’d have the weapon. Until then, everything was far too vulnerable to his liking.
“Brother. I’m departing to gather the others. The stage is yours for now. Do not disappoint me. Or father. I shall return swiftly.”
With that said, he entered the portal. He emerged in orbit in the planet’s shadow where its umbral void aether was strongest. Tapping into that vast pool of ambient energy, he wove the runes to open a portal to the void plane. Morphing his body back into his draconic form. It served little purpose, but the increase in body mass and size made him feel better about entering the void plane. As though his tiny insignificant gain in size meant anything to the Voidspawn.
His jaunt through the void plane was blissfully brief. As he’d pre staged several vessels with his troops and mages in waiting. He drifted through the lead craft’s void shield, morphing into human form and entered the airlock. Awaiting him on the other side of the dual heavy mythril steel doors were his two most trusted shacklers, Fento and Akthanes. They were both in human forms. He inwardly scowled at the unrefined and unpracticed ugliness of the two. No hair, visible scales, pointed teeth, slitted eyes, visible wings and tail? It was like they didn’t even care.
“Report,” he barked as he marched between the two, trying to maintain his composure before his disgust overwhelmed him.
“We have seen all preparations taken care of. We have a contingent of shacklers per your request. A company of hatchlings stands ready for combat.”
“The shacklers are all primary aspected to of each of the 8?”
“They are.”
Ominek nodded, pleased with how things had proceeded thus far. If they could keep their edge, he was confident he could unearth the weapon Leviathos was after. He strode past Fento to inspect the others. They each swelled with potent magic. Each for a specific urn. They could expedite the ritual in this manner.
He turned to the bridge of the ship, the younger hatchling at the controls turned back to face him. Ominek gave a nod forward into the Umbral void. “Open a portal and take us into Hidros for reentry. We’ll land at the coordinates my father provided.”
The hatchling at the helm did as instructed, a small ripple of purplish black energy rolled down his arms into the golden control sticks and into the deck plating. The ship converted the void energy and channeled it into a portal spell ahead of the ship. As the vessel nosed through, it found itself in the shadow of Hidros. The mostly blue green orb sat oppressively above them, bathed in shadow from the system’s star seated on the opposite side of the planet.
“ETA to LZ?”
The hatchling glanced at the heads up display to check, then turned to Ominek who stood behind him. “We’ll reach the LZ coordinates in roughly 30 minutes.”
Ominek allowed himself a pleased smile. Hoarding all these resources for this solitary venture had been time-consuming and costly. He was loath to part with it so easily, but when your wyrm father, the size of a planet, demanded you make sacrifices, you sacrifice. Lest you be the sacrifice. And he was far too canny to be put down so simply. Not after he’d outlasted all but Telmok.
“Notify me when we’re making our landing approach,” he turned and strode off the bridge towards a private set of quarters. He intended to do some more reading about the ritual. He’d rehearsed the spells required for it endlessly, but what was one more time? He wanted to be absolutely ready, so that when the moment came, he could return to his father and finally prove he was the best of the brood.