Dracopical Isles: Rise of the Underground

Chapter 3

Grieving over the loss of his precious Midna, Emeraldus' limbs lose their stability and he collapses to the rocky, alleyway ground. Resting his sorrowful head on her beautiful blue scales, he feels his heart grow ten times heavier and sink like a boulder. For a moment, everything fades around him - it is just Emeraldus and his mate's lifeless body. No sound or movement causes the sullen male dragon to stir - not even the loud chatter of the one dozen chickens, clucking and crowing in an ongoing, horrified spree because of a living dragon being so close by.
It is then, an important matter comes to Emeraldus' mind: Their eggs! - their eggs are now without a mother! Who will keep them warm? Who will keep them safe while Emeraldus hunts? Male dragons are not typically built for egg duty. Their scales are a little tougher and they have a lower core body temperature - This is good for hunting, but not for warming a nest. Will he have to find another female Sorcerant to hire for babysitting? After what just happened, there are doubts if his aching heart will even be able to welcome a female who isn't his mate into the nest.
He stays there with Midna for what seems like hours, the sun rising that much closer to noon high. Being still for so long, Emeraldus' subconscious has brought him to doze - eyes closed and mind adrift. He only reaches the very edge of a probable dream before something wakes him - a nearby door opening.
From inside the nearby building, a young man appears. He is one employee of many that work their pay here. The place is a bar and grill, making its living on serving customers their money's worth of food and drink. Dragon is just on the edge of being called a delicacy. Hunters return with Cacoverns for the most part, and occasionally a crate full of softened eggs, but any other breed is a real prize. Sorcerants are almost never seen in that back storage. They often avoid humans and are pretty intelligent to identify a potential trap on their own, but very rarely will one run the misfortune of slipping in.
Coming out to retrieve a chicken crate, the young man probably would've missed Emeraldus if it weren't for movement out of the corner of his eye. Emeraldus finally sits up to look over his shoulder at the sound of the nearby door closing after the man. Wearing a food-stained apron and casual, smoke-colored wear underneath, the man turns his head just as he sets his hands on a crate. A jolt of fear gives his heart a sudden jump, a yelp catches in his throat, and every muscle locks in place as soon as the two make eye contact.
Now staring eye-to-eye, both man and dragon freeze. Wide, brown eyes stare in shock back into Emeraldus' blue ones. For a moment, neither dares to move. It is a very sudden encounter for them both, and thoughts like a slot machine roll madly trying to decide what to do. Finally, after a minute, one of them moves. Lifting his hands from the crate and backing away slowly, the man tries to inch back to the door, careful not to rattle the beast. Emeraldus' gaze follows him carefully as their eyes cease to turn away from each other. The young man only sneaks brief peeks at the door behind him every couple of seconds to make sure he's heading in the right direction. Finally he reaches the door and ever so cautiously lifts a hand to grab the knob. The pounding adrenaline in his veins causes an obvious trembling in the young man's fingers as they grasp the knob and slowly turn. Emeraldus blinks his diamond-shaped pupils, now leisurely craning his neck forward to eye the man's actions a little more closely. A low rumble sounds in his throat - half curious, half suspicious. Just as the young man takes his chances to dart inside the door, a female employee enters the backroom for her lunch break. A little startled by the man's hurry, she flinches, shoulders jumping up to her ears. Releasing his frightened breath and back pressed into the door, the young man wheezes. "Get help,"
The woman briefly peeks at the door behind him with her speechless expression, lips pursed and posture frozen. Not bothering to question his reasons and anxious tone, she sets her lunch plate down on a nearby table and turns round to re-enter the kitchen.
Emeraldus outside finally breaks his gaze away from the door and back to his mate's lifeless body. It is now a thought finally clicks in his head and emotion returns to his sore body - but it is not a positive emotion, I fear. Someone must pay for this - who would ever dare to snatch the life of his sweet and innocent Midna? These humans have no conscious for what they just did - their cruel and disgusting desires for dragon flesh and treasure are to blame for this tragedy. Guilty to have sinned against a dragon's heart, they must be punished! Blood rate rising to a faster beat, brow furrowing, pupils contracting into slits, and throat getting hot with energy, Emeraldus turns a snarl back towards the door and for what is inside.
The woman returns with an older, more experienced employee looking more like one of the restaurant's butchers. The young man still pressed against the door breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh thank gods,"
The butcher folds his hairy, beefy arms. "So," He begins through his grizzled beard. "What do you need help with?"
The young man finally pulls away from the door to explain. With his adrenaline still circulating, he practically spills every word out. "I'm sorry to disturb you but we got a real problem in the back alley storage. I didn't break anything or let the animals loose I promise, but I was just about to get those chickens you guys requested when I saw a big, green dragon lying amongst the..."
Interrupting him, the older employee lifts a hand to pause his rambling. "Woah, woah, slow down there Jim," He says, taking notice of the man's anxiety. "What's the problem?"
The young man blurts out his reply like a bullet. "There's a dragon in the alley storage!"
Exchanging a glance, the butcher and woman say nothing for a second or two as the man stands there, waiting in nervous anticipation. He looks at the two of them in turn waiting for one of them to say something.
"...So?" The Butcher finally says, slurring his response and giving the young man a confused look.
"No I'm serious!" The man exclaims. "There's a real, living dragon in storage! It's not a dead one!"
The low, angry grumble of Emeraldus approaches the closed door making all three of them freeze. The butcher's brows lift as his gaze shoots to the door, and the woman has a gasp catch in her throat. Very slowly turning to look over his shoulder, beads of sweat roll down the man's face. Emeraldus' strong dragon feet can be heard steadily stepping closer, his breathing rattled with a growl. They must act quickly!
The butcher carefully backs away, holding out his arm to encourage the woman to do the same. "Alright," he begins in a whisper, not taking his eyes off the door. "Don't panic, and return to the kitchen. We must alert the rest and arm ourselves if necessary. This sounds like a big dragon..."
As soon as the butcher finishes his sentence, Emeraldus rears his head and takes in breath.
"Run." Turning tail, the butcher darts for the kitchen with the woman following behind as a blast of hot energy breaks the closed door into splinters. The young man ducks just in time to have a green, flaming fireball shoot over his head and directly into the kitchen doorway, alerting the butcher who flings an arm behind the woman's shoulders and forces her down to avoid it. The fireball hits nobody in the kitchen, but completely destroys the wash basin. Pools of tap water quickly form under the sprinkling fountains of busted pipes. Sharp flakes of door rain upon the young man's crouched frame, arms folded over his head.
Entering the room, Emeraldus towers above him, head lowered a bit to avoid hitting the ceiling, and lip curled in hostility. The fury in his eyes looks down upon the young man who's immobilized with utter terror. He closes his eyes tightly bracing himself for Emeraldus to strike, his life flashing within his closed eyelids.
Emeraldus lifts a mighty, claw-pointed hand, eyes fixated on his target. He is about to strike when a loud shout from the kitchen grabs his attention.
"Hey! Get away you foul beast!" Emeraldus looks up to see a hunting spear aim and shoot for him. Turning away, the spear misses Emeraldus' underbelly and instead hits his shoulder. Exclaiming at the pain, the big, male dragon turns a look of cold, blue ice back in the direction of where the weapon came from.
"Get up! Run!" Another male employee shouts from the kitchen doorway to the younger one.
Emeraldus does not react to the frightened man taking off running like a hare, his attention is now on the one who wounded him. The sheer anger that seathes in his veins boils like a volcano. The smoke within rises in his throat and Emeraldus fires another hot blast at the human. To avoid it, the employee darts to his left and immediately ducks behind a stack of cardboard boxes.
There is nothing to quell the dragon's rage now. Vengeance and punishment must be given to the guilty of his mate's death. The bar and grill evacuates its customers and workers while a few hunters of the company stay behind to brave the dragon. Spewing green fire everywhere, Emeraldus attempts to destroy every inch of the building. His magic is endless on a furious rampage, and his body never ceases to stop giving him that power. The fire keeps on coming - fireballs, fire jet, whatever he so pleased. The hunters wound him with their weapons, but it only achieves to anger him that much more. Crossbows, spears, daggers, and knives all fall to the ground with a newly slain human corpse. The smell of burnt flesh and sizzling blood waft in the smoky air of the building, yet still Emeraldus is not finished - everything MUST burn to the ground. Every human is either gone or dead, or so it is assumed. The creaking of hinges alerts the dragon as a graying, elderly man dressed in a mage's wardrobe appears out of the basement cellar. Holding his magic staff in hand, he's prepared for what he is about to face. He's the boss of the company, having heard the commotion above his head. At first it was hard to identify the cause, then the smell of smoke and the heat of fire told of danger. A loud dragon's roar and the rapid creaking of floorboards was what sold it - the building is under attack. Hot flames eating away at the paint on the walls and weakening the wooden floor until it is black and brittle is what the boss sees. The kitchen stations are licked by the green flames and charred bodies lie amongst an ashy and stained floor. Standing above it all is the dragon, his staring hostile eyes looking down upon the elder mage with only one thing in mind. Emeraldus curls his lip exposing long, sharp teeth, with thick gray smoke wafting from his jaws. The elder returns his glance, heart dropping into his stomach - it's a Sorcerant. They are rarely seen amongst humans, yes, but when they decide to turn and confront them, it isn't an easy fight.
The elder reeks of magical energy in Emeraldus' nostrils, but not just any magic, it's of the darkness element - he might be a real threat. While a dragon may die to a bow or a spear, if you really want to give them a fight, use magic.
Clutching his staff at the ready and his stomach knotting up into a ball, the elder prepares himself for the beast. First shot he fires is a little bolt of dark energy from the purple, jewel-tipped staff. He hits Emeraldus in the face causing the dragon to turn its head with a furious screech. A powerful swing of the tail causes a string of hanging pans to clatter onto the floor with a loud ruckus as the elder ducks into the cellar for protection. Temporarily blinded, Emeraldus begins to swipe with his arms at his surroundings, knocking down more kitchen utensils and crates, and spilling soiled food off the counters. His fit causes the cellar door to be covered in fallen things, seemingly trapping the elder down there.
Banging against the sealed door with the back end of his staff, the elder tries to force it open, but the weight holds it closed. Having only a limited number of shots in his magic staff, does he use one to free himself? How many will it take to defeat an angry Sorcerant, let alone escape? Will he have enough time to reload more spells into the staff? The dire situation demands quick thinking, as at any moment, the building may collapse. Taking his chances, he uses another shot to force the doors to open and throw away the fallen contents. Making a run for it, without looking at the dragon, he darts out of the cellar, making his way for an exit. The blazing flames and suffocating smoke slows the elder down and violent bouts of coughing strain his lungs. Ashes of burning building fall like raindrops and brittle floorboards creak and crack underfoot. Fallen tables and chairs slow him even more, forcing him to zigzag through a blazing maze. Behind him, Emeraldus shoves himself at the ceiling, hitting it repeatedly until the upper base snaps, crumbling into the green flames below. A long crack traces from the kitchen into the service room from the break, and blood chilling creaks moan within the building. Just only yards away from the exit, the elder's heart pounds hard against his ribs and his eyes cloud over with tears from the stinging smoke. The countdown begins as the entire kitchen ceiling collapses. Emeraldus scorches the now exposed upper floors with his fire, burning countless storage boxes and dozens of furniture. He continues to rampage, breaking every inch of the building that still stands. The elder reaches the door as soon as the last holding point of the building collapses and everything comes crashing down. He takes a leap of faith out the entryway threshold as a dust cloud of falling, burning wood kicks up behind him stinging his ankles with splinters and shards. He lands hard on the dirt outside, eyes sealed tightly, and braced for any further flying debris from the falling wreckage.
Burnt to the ground, the bar and grill is now gone. Flames continue to lick at what's left as the fire department soon arrives. Medics come to check on the nearby survivors and the elder boss who still lies motionless where he landed. He is alive, but barely, having sustained a lot of damage from the smoke and fall. There are no signs of Emeraldus - the big, male dragon had flown off as soon as everything was destroyed.
Reports are filed in on the dragon attack soon after the incident. Roughly a dozen lost their lives, with only a few injured. The dragon had been wounded, but it is unknown to the humans by how much. All that is known is that it wasn't seen anywhere in the wreckage afterwards. Word spreads fast over the news warning the inhabitants of the town to keep a sharp eye open for any more signs of this dragon, and guards are put on double duty until it's decided that the threat has passed.