Doomwing found the phoenix egg easily enough. It was precisely where Lydia had said it would be. The wolves had carried it into the foothills, and the egg was hidden in a large cave the pack had claimed for their den. He might have missed it if he hadn't known to look for it, the egg was so drained of energy, but he had encountered phoenix eggs before. It was subtle, but they carried a certain presence that reminded him of the First Gods.
He stopped in the air above the cave and let magic carry his voice into the cave below.
"You know what I want. Hand over the egg, and you may live. Refuse and you will die."
He had dealt with ascended wolves in the past. Despite their increased intelligence, they were much the same as their lesser kin. They respected strength above all else, and they would see any attempt to bargain as weakness. Fools. Dragons did not bargain out of weakness. They did so as a courtesy. To reject an offer was to welcome combat.
The wolves did not reply, and Doomwing cast a greater rune of scrying upon the cave. His molten blood burned with volcanic rage when he saw what was happening. The leader of the pack, a male flare wolf that was roughly the size of a small house, had the egg in his jaws and was trying to eat it. Only the egg's innate durability and dwindling power had kept it from being devoured, but it would not last much longer.
Doomwing snarled, and the currents of ambient magic in the area twisted and coiled like duelling snakes.
He dared?
Fool.
There were would be no bargaining now.
Only death.
All dragons could breathe fire. However, different types of dragons had access to other forms of breath attack. Frost dragons could also breathe ice. Storm dragons could also breathe lightning. Doomwing was a nova dragon. Apart from fire, he could breathe raw force. It was like striking his enemies with a massive sledgehammer. When he used his force breath, his enemies didn't burn. They were reduced to pulp, simultaneously crushed and exploded.
Of course, like any self-respecting dragon, he had honed his breath attack. He was capable of so much more than brute force. His breath attack was, for all intents and purposes, a form of telekinesis. Yes, it was easier to just smash things with it, but he had learned to use it for tasks that would otherwise be very difficult, like manipulating small or delicate objects. Over the years, his mastery had grown to the point of absurdity. In the same way that a primordial inferno dragon could simply will fire into existence instead of having to breath it out of their mouth, Doomwing could generate telekinetic force through his will alone.
Of course, the forces he could generate were still greater when unleashed in the form of a breath attack. And it was a pity that all of the Catastrophes he'd fought had possessed abilities that rendered them immune to certain more… direct uses of his telekinesis. His life would have been so much easier otherwise.
The wolves had no such abilities, and Doomwing was not in a merciful mood.
He took a single deep breath, and the ground beneath him buckled and tore upward. He ripped the top of the cave off and heaved it aside. Suddenly exposed to the open sky, the flare wolves stared up at him in a combination of awe and terror. The smarter ones tried to flee while the leader tried to crush the egg in his jaws.
None of them moved.
None of them could.
They were all held in place by Doomwing's power. This was the reason he rarely used his telekinesis in battle. It took all the joy out of it. Lesser creatures like these wolves had no chance of resisting it whatsoever.
He took another breath and wrenched the egg out of the leader's mouth. If the wolf's head came apart in a burst of mangled flesh and bone, well, he shouldn't have tried to eat what was Doomwing's. The other wolves remained frozen in place, and Doomwing flexed his power and exhaled. The wolves exploded, and he took a moment to savour the carnage he had wrought.
It was a pity that all of the Catastrophes he'd fought had possessed enough strength, as well as a number of more exotic abilities, that simply exploding them was impossible. Oh, he'd tried, but they wouldn't have been Catastrophes if they could be killed that easily. Instead, he'd been forced to use his telekinetic breath in other ways – like concentrating all of his flames into the equivalent of a super-thin, super-sharp, ultra-high speed drill of pure heat.
That had been fun although it was ridiculous overkill for anything that wasn't at least as strong as a primordial dragon.
With the wolves dead and the egg in his possession, Doomwing took a moment to study the egg properly. The egg was a perfect sphere that was roughly three feet in diameter. It should have been surrounded by a corona of heat so intense that the wolves should have burned alive long before being able to touch it, and its surface should have resembled polished rock.
Instead, the egg was almost cool to the touch, and its surface resembled the cracked earth common to drought-stricken lands. If Doomwing had arrived even a month later, the egg would no longer be salvageable. The phoenix inside it would have died again, and the egg would have shattered, only to reform elsewhere.
Fury stirred in his veins at the mere thought of being denied such a prize by a pack of wolves.
The wolves had either gotten incredibly lucky by stumbling across the egg only moments after it had formed, or someone of far greater power had somehow managed to lose it. In either case, the wolves hadn't known how to properly harness the egg's power. They could have taken the egg to a proper place of power and used the power it absorbed there to fuel further ascensions. Instead, they had taken the egg to these foothills where the currents of magic were weak and unstable. No wonder the egg was in such poor condition.
Doomwing wove greater runes of protection around the egg and then allowed his magic to flow into it. The egg responded immediately, and the faint presence within it turned to him the way a flower turned to the sun or a man dying of thirst turned his face up to catch the rain in his mouth. The egg latched onto his magic and devoured it with almost draconic hunger. Doomwing had to moderate the flow of power, lest the egg consume too much too quickly and destroy itself.
As it drew more and more power into itself, the phoenix egg took on a different appearance. Instead of a cracked lump of rock, it now resembled a black opal – mostly black but studded here and there with radiant flashes of vivid colour, ranging from orange and red to blue, yellow, and green. His curved up into a smile.
This was the egg of a stellar phoenix.
Just as there were different types of dragons, there were different types of phoenixes. He had only met a stellar phoenix once. She had joined them in the fight against the Third Catastrophe and had departed shortly after his defeat. She had been a glorious creature, wreathed in stellar fire and with feathers like the night sky. She had called a torrent of stars from the heavens to bombard the leviathans and krakens that had raged in the seas below them.
Was this the same phoenix? Perhaps.
In any case, he could not be happier with his prize. A stellar phoenix could not only produce flames of immense heat but their flames also carried the power of the stars with them. What exactly that meant would depend on which stars in particular the stellar phoenix was associated with, and that would only be revealed once the phoenix hatched and got more acquainted with her powers.
Yes. He was certain the phoenix within the egg was female. He had met both male and female phoenixes over the years, and their presences were subtlety different.
He would take good care of her, and in return, she would help tend to his lands and the people fortunate enough to call him their ruler. But that was for later. For now, he would continue to feed the egg his power until he could take it to his volcano. There, the egg would be able to safely absorb vast quantities of magic until it was ready to hatch.
And now, with the egg safely in his possession, it was time to seek out the dwarves.
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The dwarves had founded a settlement along another edge of the plains, amidst a series of rugged foothills not unlike where Doomwing had found the wolves. However, the dwarves had not been content to simply hide in a cave. Instead, they had carved their homes into the hillsides, using the rock and stone to shelter themselves from weather and intruders.
Their settlement was located near a series of excavations that delved deep into the hills. Some of those hills had even been cut open to better expose what the dwarves had found. Doomwing had been right. They had found a relic from the Third Age.
It was a sky ship, one of the marvels that the dwarves and elves of that age had created to sail through the clouds. From what Doomwing could see, the sky ship had been broken into several pieces that the dwarves were excavating with painstaking care. Using magic to get a better grasp of the area and of the broken sky ship, Doomwing used more magic to search his memories.
Yes.
He had encountered this ship before. It had been one of many that had fallen in the final battle against the Third Catastrophe. It was a… destroyer, or so the dwarves had called it, a vessel designed for speed, mobility, and endurance. From his memories, such ships had often escorted larger vessels and had protected them from a wide variety of threats. The mightiest sky ships of that Age had possessed weaponry that not even a dragon could ignore, but they had been vulnerable to swarms of lesser foes. Destroyers like the ruined sky ship the dwarves had found had often been asked to protect them, so they could focus their power on larger threats.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Since Doomwing had no intention of attacking the dwarves unless they did something stupid, he flew openly, allowing them to see him long before he arrived. To their credit, the dwarves refrained from any foolishness. Their magic could not harm them, nor could the siege weapons and magical devices they had. Instead, they sent a roc rider out to greet him, the giant bird looking even less comfortable to be sharing the sky with him than the dwarf upon his back.
"Greeting," Doomwing said. "I am Doomwing."
The dwarf must have recognised his name because he turned even paler. "Oh." He shook himself. "Uh… Great Doomwing, may I ask why you are here?"
"I'm not here to kill you all, if that's what you're worried about."
The dwarf sagged in relief. "Thank the ancestors…" He took a deep breath. "Is there something you need then? There aren't many of us here, but we're good at what we do. If you need something made, we'd be happy to lend what aid we can."
It went unspoken that they would be lending their aid with the understanding that he would continue to be a nice, reasonable dragon.
"I find myself curious about that sky ship you're digging out of the ground. I would like to see it and to talk with your leader." Doomwing paused and then smiled. The dwarf and the roc both recoiled. "It has been a very, very long time since I saw the Stalwart Guard."
"The… Stalwart Guard…?" The dwarf's eyes widened. "You know it?"
"Yes. I was there when it fell at the end of the Third Age."
The dwarf's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Then you know how to fix it?"
"I may or I may not," Doomwing replied. "Now, will your leader meet with me?"
"Of course!" The dwarf nodded eagerly. "Follow me! My father would be happy to speak with you if you can tell us anything about the sky ship!"
Doomwing landed near the settlement and waited for the leader of the dwarves to meet with him. He was too large to easily fit amidst the foothills, and it would have been rude to crush their homes without provocation. Besides, he wanted these dwarves to join him. In the long run, it was far better to win people over than to terrorise them into compliance.
The leader of the dwarves emerged soon after, riding from the settlement atop an irritable-looking mountain goat. He had brought a small honour guard with him, but they kept their distance as the leader dismounted and walked over.
Like most dwarves, he was short but broad-shouldered, his thickly muscled form covered in masterfully crafted armour. He carried a metal spear in one hand and a shield in the other, but he set both aside as he approached. In accordance with dwarven custom, he also removed his helm and his gauntlets to show that he meant no harm – not that he could harm Doomwing.
"Welcome, Great Doomwing." The leader of the dwarves was an older dwarf. However, his back was straight, and his eyes were keen. "My ancestors told stories of you, but I think they might have understated your size."
"I have grown since the end of the Sixth Age," Doomwing replied. "To whom do I speak?"
"I am Prince Harald," the dwarf said. "Formerly of the Sky Claw Mountains."
"Formerly?" Doomwing chuckled. "What an interesting thing to say."
"It's an interesting story," Harald replied. "But my son told me you know about the ship we've found."
"It's a sky ship of the Third Age," Doomwing said. "Its name is – or was – Stalwart Guard. The dwarves at the time classified it as a destroyer, a ship meant to guard larger vessels and known for its speed, mobility, and endurance."
"Stalwart Guard?" Harald nodded to himself. "We weren't too far off the mark then…"
"Oh?"
"We cannot properly read the writing on the hull, but some of the characters are similar to those we still use. We thought the name to be something like Determined Defender."
"Not a bad translation," Doomwing replied. "Although not wholly accurate."
"Aye." Harald ran one hand through his beard. "But you saw it, back when it could still fly?" His voice was filled with longing. "And there were others like it? You… you said it guarded larger vessels. What were those like?"
Doomwing considered his options for a moment and then smiled. "I could show you if you like, but you'd have to trust me."
"Show me?" Harald swallowed thickly. "You could actually show me what this ship was like?"
"Not just this ship. I could show you the last and greatest sky fleet of the Third Age."
"Would I be harmed if you showed me?" Harald asked. "I have a responsibility to my people. I… I greatly wish to see what you've spoken of, but I will not take any undue risks."
"You will not be harmed." Doomwing leaned forward. "Tell me, Prince Harald, formerly of the Sky Claw Mountains, why are you out here? Why is a prince in such a desolate place with perhaps only a few hundred followers?" Doomwing had his suspicions, but Harald's answer would help him craft a suitable plan to win over the dwarves.
"What do you know of how dwarves view twins?" Harald asked.
"In previous Ages, twins were viewed as bad luck," Doomwing replied. "I believe that view stems from some… unpleasantness in the Second Age where one of the great dwarf kings had twin sons who got into a succession dispute that ended with thousands dead and the kingdom in flames."
Harald blinked. "That… I did not know." He shook himself. "In any case, you're right about one thing. Twins are viewed as bad luck amongst dwarves, and it is often said that the younger twin must be watched closely, in case they plot against the elder to steal what isn't theirs."
"And you must be the younger twin."
"Aye." Harald nodded. "My older brother is the king of the dwarves who dwell in the Sky Claw Mountains. He is a good man, and we were close growing up. But as we grew older, I was often approached by those who disliked their place in life."
"I'm not sure whether I should find that sort of audacity infuriating or amusing. I assume you refused their offers."
"I did." Harald smiled proudly. "I love my brother, and I knew he would be a good king. I had no desire to betray him. To his credit, my brother never believed I would turn against him. He appointed me as his chief advisor and gave me many important duties. However, that didn't stop the talk…"
"Just the fact that you were approached made some distrust you."
"That's right. And over time, that talk grew harder and harder for my brother to ignore. He was king, but his power was not absolute. His supporters did not trust me, and he feared that the day was fast approaching when they would call for more… strident measures to be taken, perhaps even without his permission."
Doomwing snorted. "Or perhaps they simply disliked the influence you had on your brother and wished to remove you, so they could replace you with someone else."
"Aye. That likely played a part too. When it became clear that either my brother would be forced to act or someone else would, I told my brother that I would leave the mountains. I have always had an interest in our ancient past, and one of our scouts had found a few bits and pieces in this area. I told him I would lead an expedition out here to see what could be found." Harald smiled bitterly. "He didn't want me to leave. I could see it in his eyes. But I could also see how glad he was to have an answer to his problems. Not even the most zealous of his supporters could find fault with my leaving. Out here, I don't have to worry about malcontents seeking me out, nor is it easy for my enemies to smuggle in assassins and saboteurs. I am, for all intents and purposes, out of sight and out of mind."
Doomwing gave a low rumble of respect. "I cannot say that you made the best choice, but I cannot say that it was a bad choice either. Sometimes, there are no good choices."
"Aye." Harald's gaze grew distant. "My brother was a sickly child growing up, not much given to battle or even the arts of the forge. But he always had a good head on his shoulders. He knew how to make things run smoothly and how to help others excel. It was why I knew he'd be a good king. But it was why his enemies always looked to me for support." Harald clenched his fists. "I'm one of the best fighters amongst the dwarves, even in my old age, and there are precious few who can match me at the forge. In a time of war, I'd be a much better king than my brother, but we aren't at war, and I have no desire to steal his birthright from him."
"It is different for dragons," Doomwing replied. "Strength is what matters. We only keep what we have the strength to take and hold for ourselves."
"You must have a lot then."
"I would show you my hoard, but it would drive you to madness."
Doomwing wasn't lying about that either. Dwarves could be almost as greedy as dragons, and the one time he'd shown the full extent of his hoard to a dwarf, he'd been forced to wipe his memory of it afterward to prevent him from going mad. Ragnar had been a good friend, but the dwarf had been absolutely obsessed with magical weapons, and Doomwing had more than he knew what to do with. He'd gifted Ragnar with a fine axe that had been made in the First Age to make up for it although he'd very deliberately lied about the weapon's origins, saying it was the only one he had, and not part of an armoury Doomwing had seized in the Second Age.
"It might be worth it," Harald said. "But about the sky ship, you said you could show me it and many others, and that I would not be harmed."
"I would cast a spell on you to make you fall asleep, and then I would show them to you in the form of a dream."
"You can do that?" Harald asked.
"Of course. I am Doomwing." Naturally, he'd only improved his dream walking recently, but there was no reason to let Harald know that. "So… do you agree?"
Harald glanced back at his honour guard and then nodded. "Aye. I agree. Do what you have to."