Like a fiery arrow shot across the night sky aimed at the heart of one who is hated, so too, was Gygaxus, the ancient red dragon, flying through the sky wishing he could kill every last one of the people who had just killed his brother, and humiliated him before the dark god Zorgoth Mor. What’s more, when last he saw him, Gygaxus’ other brother Gilgarix was mortally wounded, or so it appeared. Was Gygaxus all that was left of the brood of Azarakesh the Wicked?
Over the last few hours, Gygaxus kept turning his head as he flew, expecting to be followed. That never happened because General Calean’s sky troops had turned around to help their fellow soldiers try to kill Gilgarix back at Mount Mortuus, off the island of Lucidium. Gilgarix did not know that at the time. He just knew that no one was following him, for whatever reason.
Gygaxus contemplated the things he did not know. One was whether or not his brother Gilgarix was dead. The second was what had happened at Lucidum after he’d run away. Lastly, in running away, Gygaxus had disobeyed his god Zorgoth Mor. What form of punishment would he suffer as a result of that disloyalty?
A dragon’s mind is large and complex, filled with emotions fueled by the elemental plane of their archetype. In Gygaxus’ case, he’s an ancient red dragon. A fire elemental with the elemental plane of fire rising. That means his typical emotions are anger, pride, greed, and domination. In Sphaera, there is a huge difference between a fire sign with the elemental plane of fire rising (Incaendium) versus a fire sign with the dimensional plane of light rising (Soluminus). One is the source of evil, and the other, is not.
Gygaxus’ mind was full of rage, and, for the first time, it was also filled with confusion and fear. He despised the fact that elves and men had killed his younger brother and possibly his older. The forces of King Asir had chased them off of their claim on Lucidium. Gygaxus had never run from a battle before. Gygaxus had never lost a battle. Though a few hundred years old, all of this was new to him.
He truly had no idea what would come next, and so, in frustration, after stumbling across a remote, cloudy island, located past the farthest edge of the Malakian Ocean, he decided to land. It was a hidden place that he’d never seen before. It struck him as strange that an island such as this could be nestled within the violent currents and waves of the Epiki Sea. With a sense of relief, he found a hidden valley full of life.
As the massive dragon landed within the hidden valley, the smaller creatures around him moved aside, but not with a sense of panic. It was as if these creatures had never been hunted before. That security ended the moment Gygaxus touched down. He was hungry and needed to eat.
While in the deep sleep of hibernation, a dragon can go for many years without eating a single thing. Dragons are magical creatures whose bodies gain sustenance from the magical fields of energy that sit deep within the core of Sphaera. However, when a dragon is stressed, or before taking off for a journey or battle, a dragon will feed on meat. Lots of meat.
Gygaxus, in this case, ate for hours. Beast after beast let out cries of pain as the mighty dragon crushed and consumed them, and, when finally sated, Gygaxus took the time to look around and see what his surroundings would offer him next. The island was a place of bounty and beauty. All around, there were creatures of every shape and size. Some even larger than Gygaxus, but none nearly as aggressive as the dragon.
Who were these lowly creatures? All of them were non-threatening, and none of them seemed to be meat eaters. Gygaxus telepathically scanned the creatures, and the result was quite strange. None of the beasts of this island had much intelligence. Their brains were quite unevolved. The smartest of them, the small furry ones, were the only ones that even took notice of the dragon.
Suddenly, without warning, a surge of energy like none he’d ever felt, knocked Gygaxus to the ground. The shocked dragon looked all around to find out what or who had just struck him in that manner. To his surprise, it was one of the tiny little mammals that had scurried into their holes in the ground to avoid him. One of them, the size of a squirrel, was standing in front of him on its back legs. It was staring at him through dark, glaring eyes.
Gygaxus raised his huge, sword-like claws to tear through the tiny beast, but instead of slicing it apart, his entire arm became paralyzed. He then tried to shift his weight, but that didn’t work either. The dragon’s entire body was frozen in time. Gygaxus could not move at all.
What manner of attack was this?
“Ah, there you are my cowardly servant.”
The voice was an attack unto itself, reverberating through Gygaxus’ brain and causing him unbearable pain. He knew exactly what was happening. Zorgoth Mor had found him.
“Yes, dragon slave, your master is here. You ran like a coward, but now I am here to collect that which you owe.”
What manner of being can cause such fear in a deadly dragon such as Gygaxus? A god, perhaps.
“Release me Dark Lord, you know I had no choice but to leave Lucidium.”
Zorgoth Mor did release him. He released Gygaxus and then struck him in the head with a planet shaking bolt of energy that smashed the dragon’s jaw into the ground.
In anger, Gygaxus quickly raised his head and breathed hellfire on the little rat. The mammal was no more, but Zorgoth Mor was not done. A large reptile with three sharp horns on its head rammed into Gygaxus from the side, drawing blood that dripped to the ground and hissed as it touched. It was a strange beast on four legs. Its head was surrounded in a shield of bone, and centered within that structure, the three horns protruded outward. It was a truly effective manner of defense and attack.
Gygaxus drew in another breath to kill this new beast, but that never happened. The breath was sucked out of him. He began to panic as the air was no longer breathable. Zorgoth Mor then showed himself to Gygaxus in his true form. A demonic creature taller than a house and made of fire from the realm of Incaendium slowly walked toward the helpless dragon. All forms of life ran in fear before him. The ground burned and was singed wherever Zorgoth Mor stepped. This was a being of pure evil, dripping with molten death, and walking with purpose toward Gygaxus.
“Enough! I know your heart dragon. When you abandoned your dead brothers, you also abandoned me. I haven’t abandoned you, though. I am here to watch over you for eternity. You will no longer need food or water. You will no longer feel heat or cold. You are now the everlasting symbol of my judgement, preserved and hidden away from the world in shame.”
“No,” Gygaxus pleaded.
He knew some horrible transformation was about to befall him. He could feel his body changing as the dark, twisted tendrils of Zorgoth Mor’s dark magics surrounded him. The healthy, dark red complexion of a dragon faded, as his muscles slimmed and turned into dead, skeletal remains. Gygaxus was becoming part of the living dead. The undead as most clerics call it. For the rest of his days on this plane of reality Gygaxus would now be a wretched dragon lich. A reminder to all others that one must never cross Zorgoth Mor, ever.
“I beg you. Please reconsider lord. I did as you asked. I can still be useful to you.”
Gygaxus acted truly humiliated and helpless.
“You are useful to me, my child. You don’t see the endgame as I do, but in time, you will see exactly how useful you can be. For now, I leave you to enjoy your new self.”
In an instant, the presence of Zorgoth Mor could no longer be felt. Gygaxus was alone again, the sole ruler of this cursed island.
“I’m the son of Azarakesh. You cannot do this to me,” Gygaxus screamed aloud!
No one was there to hear his screams except for the island’s residents, all of which were now horrified of his countenance.
As that realization set in, Gygaxus became angry. He readied his wings and lifted off in an attempt to leave. That attempt failed. A few hundred feet in the sir, Gygaxus careened into an invisible force field. One that he found surrounded the entire island.
“No, my slave. You will stay here until you can be useful once again.”
Zorgoth Mor’s voice was a whisper on the wind. A spiteful lesson in truth. The island was his inescapable prison.
Gygaxus stood still for what seemed to be an eon, his hatred for everything building and building into something that could almost be physically felt by others. When next he moved, Gygaxus wandered the island looking for a place to skulk for a few thousand years. He eventually found a huge prehistoric cave large enough for him to hide in and ruminate.
It was there, in that dark place, that Gygaxus eventually fell asleep. He did not plan on waking up for a long, long time.
That, my friends, is the tale of Gygaxus the Cursed. Do you wish to know more? Purchase The Covetous Nature of Dragons found only here on THEANCIENTDRAGON.COM.
STW
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