Ghosts of the Umbral Flame

by NovaTheFireBolt

Eclipse

Chapter 8: Eclipse

An orange tint stained the clouds above, giving the coliseum an even scarier look. All the blood spilled and corpses that lay only a few feet below the surface made the area smell of death. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, but it wasn't exactly soothing the anxiety stricken mare that walked up it's side, traversing to the rim where she would watch the competitors battle for the rank of Alpha. Her saddlebag weighed her down, and the trek was difficult enough without the bag.

It had been 7 years since she last saw a being of such stature and nobility, that some part of her longed for this event; if anybody was willing to fight for the Alpha position and had the willpower and strength necessary to win, then they truly deserved it.

When she reached the rim the hybrid was there waiting for her, staring down at the field where the battles would ensue. It was much to her delight to hear that he would be able to use whatever magic he had in the games. Although he was seemingly fearless, she couldn't help but fear for him; he could be stepped on, and killed.

He promised that wouldn't happen, though.

"Do you have a plan?" she breathed, tired from the climb.

He stayed silent, scraping away the dirt below him with his hoof. "This used to be a volcano," he murmured.

"From what I've gathered, yes, it was; before it exploded. Then the rain cooled what lava was left and dirt gathered over that."

He gave a simple nod, and bounded down the slope into the center of the coliseum, near the other competitors. From there, two fighters would be chosen, the winner of that fight would battle the winner of the next, and so on and so forth.

Contrary to popular belief, it was not a fight to the death. The opponent could surrender if he was so inclined to live and fight another day. It was taken as a compliment to submit to the opponents superior strength, but gained them no honor.

The hybrid took his place on the field next to the red dragon, and studied the three opponents near to him. There was a green dragon. Bulky, yet slow. He would be an easy kill. Next, a cobalt scaled one. He was a moderate fighter. Not too skinny and not too muscular. The hybrid theorized speed would be needed, rather than power to take him down.

Then there was the sanguine dragon with the pearly white eyes. His scales were coated in a sheen of dried blood from a source unknown. He was ferocious. The hybrid saw him crush boulders with his head, and walk away, unscathed.

He would be the only challenge.

Suddenly, silence fell over the crowd as a member of the Grey Sun council raised a claw from the rim of the coliseum. The mare stood next to him, and glanced up at the dragon, very confused. A dramatic pause ensued, and then, he reared back and shot a jet of bright yellow flame into the air, and the crowd erupted into cheerful, earsplitting roars that shook the ground. The mare fell backwards, reeling from the shock.

The Alpha games had begun.

As the crowd began to calm once more, the council member spoke, his voice booming over the entire coliseum from the magic the mare was weaving into him.

"The first battle will involve..."

Everything drowned out for the hybrid. He began to focus on his body, his strength and willpower to win. He felt a bit of power well inside him, like a pool of water deep underground, locked away, only accessible to those with the strength to dig down and grit their teeth. Every sense crawled as he stood perfectly still, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart, the feel of the heat not too far below the dirt, and the scent of...

Blood. A harsh coppery smell that overwhelmed him, and snapped him out of his trance.

"Are you ready to die, Polovina drakona?"

The name was something the sanguine dragon called him in a language that was heavily accented, and meant "half dragon" in a very condescending way. The hybrid hated the name, and it made his blood boil. He glanced up to meet the stare of his opponent, and slowly surveyed his surroundings.

Yes, there was no mistake. He was fighting the sanguine dragon and he was fighting first. The other contestants retreated to a lower part of the rim to watch the battle.

It was going to be a good show, the hybrid thought.

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A blinding pain shook through the silver dragon's body, almost causing him to fall into unconsciousness. But he held on, gritting his teeth all the while. Although it was excruciatingly painful, the rewards were plentiful. Such gifts were impossible to come by under normal circumstances.

But nothing was normal anymore.

He had attempted to read the scroll given to him by the king, and in return he got a large tumor next to his heart filled with dark energies. The tumor dissolved in his blood, as it was meant to, and the energy was expelled through the soft skin under his chest scales.

The point of the punishment was to make the attempted reader not just try to read the glyphs, but absorb the symbols, follow the flow of their lines and have them merge together through elevated focus. An advanced magic user or unicorn would have this knowledge, but the dragon wasn't either of those things.

The dragon didn't understand how to unleash the power within the scroll just yet, and another tumor developed and dissolved inside his chest. Black ooze leaked from underneath his scales like a stream. It fell onto the ground and evaporated into the air like mist, staining the green grass with a black dew.

Eventually, he would understand the scroll and it's powers would be unleashed.

And the world would know true fear once more.

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"This place will become your tomb, hybrid!" the dragon bellowed as he slammed his spiked tail into the earth where the hybrid was standing just seconds before. The ground shattered and dirt was thrown into the air making a slight haze, hiding the hybrid as he moved.

The hybrid strafed to the left and came up behind the behemoth, letting his magic flow to the tip of his horn. As the behemoth turned around, magic was released directly into his right shoulder, sending waves of pain throughout the forearm.

The dragon roared with such anger that the ground cracked below his claws. "You'll pay dearly for that," he seethed.

The hybrid laughed.

Quick as lightning, the dragon bashed him away with the back of his hand, sending the hybrid flying. He attempted to turn and brace for the crash, but his flight ended abruptly as he crashed into the wall of the coliseum. An impression was left as he fell away from the wall and landed on the dirt with a thud.

"NO! GET UP!"

The mare stood at the edge of the rim, shouting at the hybrid. Tears welled in her eyes as the behemoth advanced towards him, a sadistic grin spreading across his face as he pumped a fist at the hybrid.

After years of training with dragons, the hybrid knew exactly where to hit them to do the most damage, or at least slow them down enough to find an opening to gain the advantage over them.

So he bolted for the center of mass.

He shot from the ground in a blur and landed all four of his hooves on the behemoth's chest, cracking the weaker scales like porcelain tiles and knocking the wind from the behemoth's lungs. Pushing off of him, the hybrid flew backwards into the air. The behemoth was shoved back, gasping for a breath that just wasn't there.

The hybrid touched against the wall, and launched off of that, too, leaving an even larger crater from where he first hit it. His horn surged to life, crackling with power. The behemoth, still unable to breath, struggled to looked up at the light that rocketed towards his head.

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The scroll, already yellow from age, turned an acrid black color and disintegrated in the claws of the silver dragon. The ash that was left was then blown away in the thermal winds that roared on top of the hills that riddled the area around the coliseum.

"I... No! That was it! I know I was right that time!" the upset dragon cried. He had been unsuccessful in all of his attempts to read the scroll, and decided to move closer to the coliseum when the cold winds shifted to his last position. The winter air was not helping his growing temper.

He rest his head over the last bit of ashes that lay near him, and curled his tail around himself, wanting to disappear from the world forever because of his many failures.

Shutting his eyes, he began to fall into a light sleep, the thermal winds making it easier for him to find the much needed rest he wanted so badly.

"You were right that time, you know."

Weblike shadows embedded themselves into the scales around his brow, forcing him wide awake from the stinging sensation it brought. The voice, clearly feminine, was coarse and gritty, like the speaker had been deathly ill. It echoed though, as if it was projected from a large cavern not too far away.

"I will speak. You will listen," the voice demanded. He attempted to nod slightly, but the webs held his head in a vice grip and pain rippled through his skull. He was immobilized.

"Seven years ago, there was a battle. It was believed that I was killed in the heat of it, and fear was vanquished from the hearts of every creature that knew my power."

He remembered the battle. He was there, fighting a group of the King's soldiers that were attempting to divert the river into the cavern, causing it to flood. Memories of all the death he caused that day warmed him with delight as he remembered each of his victims' faces...

Something truly was amiss.

There was no regret or pity for the soldiers he mauled, and this puzzled him. When had he become so dark and hateful?

"They didn't know that I could not be killed; only banished or contained. My body was destroyed, and my mind was lost to the shadows."

The dragon was perplexed still by his lack of morality, and only half listened to the voice.

"Until I was summoned by you, of course."

His attention was ripped from his own perilous thoughts and his heart rate quickened. Sensing this, the voice laughed.

"Yes, my host. You did it."

He was ecstatic. He actually did something right! The Draconic Remnants wouldn't stand a chance with the power he unlocked aiding him, he thought.

Wait. "Host"? What had it meant by that, he wondered.

He found out pretty quick when the webs began to widen inside the scales on his head, cracking them from the inside. Blood was then drawn as spears of darkness emerged from the shadows themselves and were then embedded into his side, writhing deeper and deeper with each pulse of dark energy. Pain exploded through every single fiber of his being as the shock of his own body was being stolen from him was extinguished.

All feeling was expunged as another conscience invaded his own, forcing it to submit without any challenge whatsoever. His mind, separated from his body, was entirely replaced by the mind of the invader, and there was nothing he could do to stop it; he was a prisoner in the confines of his own body. Fear tore through him as whatever he had left was transformed into darkness, morphing his body into something nightmarish and gruelling.

Claws that had been his own were now shifting, becoming serrated and even more deadly. The spikes along his back became like his claws, only larger and more plentiful than before. Scales shifted with his bone structure as both changed into something horrible. Four holes opened on his head, two on each side next to his pre-existing eyes.

Then, it dawned on him as he witnessed his body become more and more like the demon that nearly destroyed the land seven years ago.

A sudden hunger drilled itself into the forefront of all his thoughts, shoving aside the petty ideas of how to regain control and stop the shadowed one. The hunger wasn't for food, power, or knowledge, but for war.

Bloodlust shattered every bit of sanity left, and the figure rose off the dirt, spreading it's shadowy wings. All six eyes opened in tandem, flaring a hideous yellow, casting a glow around it's nightmarish head.

"It's been a long time since I've had a body," she said. The dragons mind trembled with terror and the hunger that now seemed like it stretched through infinity, begging to be satisfied.

With a swift beat of her wings, the demon soared through the volcanic winds, tracking a black cloud of shadows behind her as she flew towards the coliseum.

Fear would be known once more as a Constellation Demon.

Typherias had reawakened.

And she was hungry.

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(Firstly, I want to thank Theraclese for making this story a super rad soundtrack. It can be found here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=za_FgkgIqNU&feature=plcp
Please subscribe to him! He's not getting the credit he deserves!)