The Council

"Are we there yet?" Torkos moaned for the third time since leaving his beloved hospital.
"Almost there," Edge replied yet again. He heard Torkos huff behind him, and grinned. They had been flying for multiple hours to the Council, and Torkos wasn't used to flying as he used to be. Working long hours in a hospital wore him down, and by the end of the day, he could care less about feeling a little bit of a breeze under his wings. He might as well turn an air conditioner on.
Elsie flew beside her mate, Torkos just behind them. They were heading towards a nearby mountain range. A cave dug into the mountainside had been carved into a makeshift amphitheatre. It had been decided, long ago, that these council caves be made for easy reach to all members of the clan. The idea had been approached when each member had met one another for the first time on the U.S. Eastern Coast. It had been difficult for everyone to collect together, so the idea of making multiple meeting areas around the world had been voted upon. A huge task surely, but nothing nearly two dozen dragons couldn't do over the years.
Now, after nearly twenty years, almost twelve of these caves had been dug into the bedrock of the Earth. Four were made in their respective corners of the U.S., two more in Canada, two in and around Europe, two others on Eastern Asia, another in South America, and finally, one was in progress of being dug out in Africa. America held the most because that was where most of the Council members lived, and the North Western cave was being used this time.
The Rockies came into sight, and with it, the cave that they were veering towards. Dragonfire that was kept burning by the fuel collected from around the area was set near the entrance, a beacon for the dragons in the lessening daylight.
Edge swept down towards the ledge, hovering for a moment before gently setting down in his usual spectacular fashion. Elsie flew down beside him, using her wider wingspan to slow to a stop. Torkos came down at a steeper angle, landing in a cloud of dust. "*cough* Did you have to *cough* do that?" Edge asked, waving away the dirt particles that besieged his nostrils.
"Well, I can't land in such a perfect fashion as you two, so yes. That was very much necessary," Torkos scoffed, sneezing as the dust from his own landing made it into his nose. Edge was about to give a heated reply, but Elsie stopped both in their tracks.
"Let's go boys, it's best not to keep them waiting." She was already at the mouth of the cave, and began to descend into it's depths. Torkos was shaking his head at her retreating backside.
"Man, you don't know how much I wish my mate was here right now."
"Sucks for you!" Edge laughed, making his way down the claw-carved steps. Torkos glared at him for a moment before following.
The tunnel veered down steeply, torches mounted on the rough hewn walls. A low rumble came into hearing, individual voices could be made out of the sound. "Sounds like someone made it already," Torkos commented. The others didn't see fit to reply to the obvious.
Up ahead, the tunnel opened up into the massive amphitheater. Tiered levels receded back towards the stone walls. The whole thing was either lit by lights hanging down from the ceiling by thin cables, or by braziers filled with, as always, dragonfire. A huge, quadruped black dragon was guarding the entrance tunnel to whom Edge said, "Hey Rob."
Robinton inclined his massive head, "Glad to see you all could make it, Edge, Elsie, Doc." Elsie and Torkos made their salutations, and proceeded to stairs that led to the upper tiers where other draconic figures could be seen.
One figure in the gloom appeared as Kettouryujinn. Otherwise known as Kett, or Shinku. He's one of the more rare Eastern Dragons that can be found around the U.S. His long, almost serpentine body undulated while he flew, making the blue and gold scales shift and clink. The gold scales started the the top of his muzzle, and covered his underbelly all the way down to his gold, fuzzy tail, matching the mane that made it's way down his back. He even had the whiskers of an Eastern, protruding from his snout like the two odd shaped horns that protruded from the back of his head. On two feet his body, tail mainly, bent back upwards due to it's length. "Heyyy!" He said with an accent Torkos could never place, "looks like someone finally made it!"
"You know we'd never forget!" Torkos replied, "So, anything new? Do I have to pry open your lid like Rekalnus and Rob?" Kett quickly shook his head.
"Nope! You know I didn't become a dragon because of those stones of yours, nor have I ever gotten captured and brainwashed (etc.). Nope, this jar keeps it's cap." Torkos faked sadness, drooping the corner of his muzzle down.
"Ah well, maybe next time."
Kett laughed, "No thank you!"
"So what's new man?" asked Edge. "Why's Zorath so worried?" Kett was a police officer, and knew how, what, why, and when something was going down. He had forgone his officer uniform for a casual shirt and jeans.
"I'm not supposed to talk about it," Kett was frowning slightly, "Zorath'll tell you once everyone gets here."
"Then I guess we don't want to pry," Edge was already beginning to formulate a plan to get Zorath to talk. Kett caught his eye and his thoughts.
"I know what you're thinking," he cautioned, "Don't do it!" Edge put his hands up.
"Alright, you got me. I'll just head over and say hi." Edge had already started making his way  towards where the red and black figure stood at the dias of the amphitheater.
As Elsie passed Kett she said, "Hi Kettou, how's the job?"
"Ah you know, same old, same old. Nothing more than a couple of ferals and some teens who thought it was funny to light a guys house on fire and fly off." Kett waved his hand.
"Okay then, gotta go meet the others," Elsie replied, following the other two dragons.
"Of course m'lady," she heard Kett say behind her. Up ahead, a spiked black dragon with red highlights stood upon the dais at almost the very middle of the amphitheater. (Think of it as where the judge sits in one of those roundish courthouses) Around his neck was a ring of dark red spines, coupling with the horn at the end of his muzzle. His horns were steeply angled and ranged from a strip of red, to white, to black. The scales on his underbelly were the deepest of crimson, and his ivory claws and talons were long and sharp, ranging from three to six inches. He looked over from where he was standing, watching the other dragons in the room mingle. There were quite a few, for nearly half the council had arrived already. A toothy grin spread across Zorath's or Drakeagle's blackened muzzle.
"I was wondering if you were going to make it!" he shouted in a British accent, "I was getting worried." Edge put his hands on his hips.
"No reason to worry. The original council members are always fashionably late." Zorath laughed at the jest, stepping forward to clap a claw on Edge once he approached.
"Ahh... It's good to see you guys... and lady," he inclined his head to Elsie.
"Likewise," she replied.
"So Zorath, what's with the short notice? Elsie and I had the whole week to be together when you called us in." (Guilt trip) Zorath became shockingly serious.
"I won't tell you until everyone gets here, but I will say some serious shit's going down."
"It doesn't take a genius to figure that out!" Torkos put in.
"No, it doesn't. I mean what I say though, something that puts the entire council at risk." Zorath'll voice was grave. "But first, we need to make sure all have arrived." He stepped over to the dais, and multiple conversations stopped as those participating looked up to here what their leader had to say. Most returned to what they were talking about once they realized nothing was going to be said, yet.
"Timber, Enerin, Shadow, Hatkah, Kettou..." Zorath muttered to himself as he counted off those who had arrived, and then some in his head. "Where's Bryce?" He asked turning to look at Torkos. He knew the two were nearly inseparable during the few times they met. Torkos merely shrugged.
"I don't know. Haven't heard, nor seen of him. Hell! I didn't even know about the council until just a few hours ago. I think Edge knows," he said, pointing.
"I got nothing," Edge mimicked the purple dragon, "all I know is that he's coming. He said he got the message, but aside from that, I only know as much as you."
"Oh he's here," came a voice. All four whirled to see a cyan dragon with many markings of gold and bluish-green step from the shadows. Rekalnus. A school teacher, but not just any school teacher. A flight teacher for dragons. He's fast, agile, and can fly through any obstacles you give him. He's most well known for flying at high speeds down the Grand Canyon and not once hitting the walls.
"How do you know?" Zorath looked down at the assembled scalies, not seeing what he was searching for.
"Look," Rekalnus stepped forward and pointed at a golden dragoness who just then stepped in and greeted Robinton. "If his daughter's here, that means he's here." Torkos sighed, loud enough for the others to hear.
"He snuck past Robinton again. I think that mask and name, mercenary, goes to his head. I mean, how many times now has he done this?" Torkos was exasperated.
"Three," Edge clarified after counting on his fingers, "four if you count England." Torkos shook his head, and none noticed the shadow that landed further in the darkness from above, save one.
"I think I know where he is," Rekalnus jerked his thumb behind him, and on cue, a dragon stepped from the dark, visor glowing an eerie green. His muzzle was covered with a face mask that created the glow, and two blue-cyan, odd shaped horns pulsed with their own inner light. Twin ear fins protruded from the side of his face, and the red scales covering his body matched well with the orange underbelly. A writhing crest stretched from the back of his head to just between his shoulder blades, skin between the nodes a vibrant green.
"How'd you know?" Drakko Brighthorn, otherwise known as Bryce, asked. Rekalnus turned with a smug grin.
"Dude, I'm a flight instructor, and not only do I know the sound of wings, I can tell who the person is at times just based off it. Makes it much harder to sneak up on me." Bryce smirked, and stepped forward to join his companions.
"It's been a long time since I've seen you guys," he started, "what's new." Torkos motioned towards Zorath.
"Only Zorath knows what the hell is up, and he's not exactly been forthcoming."
"I must make sure everyone arrives. It has to do with the entire council! Course, I am beginning to regret what I am about to say, but its that or put the entire council at risk."
"And what might this risk be?" Bryce asked, folding his arms across his chest. Zorath groaned in frustration.
"How many times must I say it? I can't tell you yet! I'm trying to keep you guys happy by giving hints, but all your damned curiosity won't be assuaged." Zorath stalked over to the dais again, taking a deep breath. Torkos looked at the dragons around him. They are stared at him, and he nodded and stepped forward to Zorath's side.
"Look brother," he said, "We can tell this is weighing on you. You must release this burden before it eats you from the inside out. At the very least, you can share it with the council's personal physiatrist." Zorath looked up at him, and smiled.
"I know I should, but I'm telling you, it must wait. As soon as the last four or so members get here, I'll make sure to get to you."
"As you wish," Torkos backed up, and joined the rest of his friends as they descended to meet with Bryce's daughter, and wait for the final members to arrive.
*   *   *
"Dragons of the Shadow Council!" Zorath shouted to the assembled crowd. All eyes, either gold, blue, slit, glowing, were on their leader. Zorath had counted out the members if the council, as each had arrived, and decided it was time but moments before. At first he couldn't get everyone's attention, but a earth shaking roar from Robinton made heads turn and long necks swivel.
Torkos stood next to his more immediate friends of the council, including Enerin, a water dragon with green scales and an ivory underbelly, Hatkah, a red dragon with a silver underbelly and sloping horns, and Timberwolf, a crimson dragon (seems to be a lot of those) with a lighter shaded underbelly, two sloping horns, and a ridge that reached from the top of his head to the tip of his tail. For now, they listened to the shadow dragon.
"It has come to my attention," he boomed, "that multiple tragedies are at hand in this world." A pause as the message sank in. None dared to speak. "The foremost being that my home country has recently managed to discover the transformation stones that are more well known to our two members, Torkos and Drakko. I believe that no good can come of this. Now I ask of you, what may be your thoughts." His gaze swept over the crowd before Rekalnus spoke up.
"Why does it matter?" He asked, "The U.S. government has been able to create dragons for nearly twenty-five years now! Why do you think my venom gets milked three times a week?" Muttering and nodding followed his statement.
"I agree, at first it doesn't seem like anything more than another simple discovery brought forward by dragon kind, but if Torkos could step forward, I believe he'll tell you why this is such a problem." Zorath held a claw out to Torkos and bid him to join him up on the dais. As he ascended, Torkos felt the dragons' gazes follow him to the top.
"I'm not going to paint a picture for you all. This is a problem and it must be addressed immediately. If they really do have the stones, then we must make haste for them to dispose of them, permanently and completely."
"But why?" Rekalnus shouted up to Torkos. His question was formed upon many lips that ringed the chamber.
"Why?" Torkos replied. He stepped forward and set his claws on the rough stone, creating an audible *click.* "Battle dragons." Murmurs sprung up the the words. It instilled fear in all who heard it, for nearly everyone at the council had heard of the battle dragons' ferocious rage and killer instinct, not to mention their unpredictability. "If what Zorath says is true, then I do not doubt that it will be easy for the British to find some way to create the crystals." A flash of red "They already know what the end product will be, and what they must work with." A maw leaking flame "I'm almost surprised than entire legions have not yet been risen." A breath, "For those of you who don't know, I will tell you, but for those who have already heard I shall keep it brief." Blood on stone "Battle dragons are not ordinary dragons of modern day. I'm sure you have all heard if the dragons of renaissance times, who are tens of feet long, possess an animal rage, and live for slaughter." Bodies everywhere "Battle dragons are exactly that, but with an evil twist... Teachability." Another breath, "This means, that not only are they a rampaging death machine, but one that can be programmed to follow orders." Dead, all dead "On nearly every known account with a battle dragon, a handler was there with it. If this does indeed come to pass as the British's plan, then the whole world is at stake." Torkos nodded to Zorath and stepped down to join his friends. He took note of the fact that Rekalnus had conceded to the logic of the situation, and kept his muzzle shut.
"So you see," Zorath continued, "this shall not stand! We must contact Parliament, the cabinet, even the Prime Minister if we could, to stop what may be another world war." As he stopped the entire council went into an uproar. Dragons were shouted this way and that. Multiple fights broke out, and either ended with the loser conceding, albeit with many a scratch and bruise, or by Robinton as he fought for calm, being the largest dragon there. After a painstakingly long amount of time, the council was silenced. Zorath stood upon his dais, fuming.
"We fight each other like ferals over a scrap of meat, and yet I haven't told you of the worst of our problems!" That shut them up. "I have seen the signs that a traitor may be in our midst. As you all may have noticed, Skyder and Shadowbolt are missing." Whispers floated around the room on a dying wind from outside. "I have not been in contact with Skyder for nearly five months now, and Shadowbolt for three! At first I paid it no mind when Skyder began to stop joining us the last two meetings, but when Shadowbolt also didn't make it, and I never received a reason why, I began to worry and searched them out."
"Did you know of this?" The golden dragoness, Chill, leaned over and asked her father, Drakko.
"No," he replied back. Chill was wearing her ordinary army fatigues with new, shiny corperal arrows naming her rank. She had followed her father into the service, and excelled just as he had. It was difficult for them to meet each other often, as they operated in two completely different branches of the military, and they were both lucky to see Drakko's mate/Chill's mother once or twice a month between deployments.
Chill's nearly twenty or so years of life had been rather odd. All of the council members had in some way or other fought for their lives, been personally harmed in some way, or been the victims of fate. Chill though, was different. Her first one or two years of life were literally spent inside her father's head. Something like how Athena sprang from Zeus's mind decked in shining armor. Except, that Chill was originally one of Drakko's feral minds that wasn't exactly feral. She was the byproduct of the transformation stones the Hierarchy had employed purposely on Torkos and accidentally on Drakko. Slowly she had grow from the suppressed female and timid side of Drakko into a full fledged person in his head. From there, through a series of bizarre circumstances, and a specific friend of Drakko's, she moved herself from her father's mind to an egg. It was confusing to say in the least. Even Torkos, with his excessive knowledge in medicine and psychiatry, couldn't explain how exactly it happened. The end product of it all was a beautiful golden dragoness who was just as loyal to the council as she was to her father. Above, Zorath continued.
"-for Skyder, I found nothing. Absolutely nothing. No claw marks, burns, nothing, It had seemed like he had just upped and left, and that's exactly what I assumed. Why would he leave, I don't know. Then I went looking for Shadowbolt, my sister. I didn't find her, but at her house there were signs of a fight. Scorch marks on the walls, scrapes in the floor, and a shattered window. Blood was also on the floor, but what was most disconcerting was the trail of the stuff that lead from in her living room to outside. Someone must have dragged her body, dead or alive, away from the scene." Zorath held his claws out as if in apology. "That is all I have for you now. I shall release what we do next, but first, I have some business to attend to." He turned and walked away from the dais. At once hushed voices filled the room, echoing from the walls in eerie whispers.
"What are we supposed to do?" Enerin asked, looking from muzzle to muzzle. "It's not like there's anything to actually talk about. There's a traitor in our midst, he knows we know, and he also knows we don't know who he is. This is just fucking brilliant." Timber had a claw on his chin, lost in thought along with the rest. A shadow moved in behind the group, coalescing into Zorath.
"We need to talk," he said, "Gather the original council members." They did just that, meeting together where they had found Zorath earlier, and where Rekalnus had found them.
"What have you got for us?" Drakko asked, getting straight to the point. Attention of the two two dozen (or so) dragons were on Zorath. The others members were conversing down below, making lots of noise. (I figured we would've recruited others into our fold over the years, at least doubling or tripling our number. I'm more likely thinking the the latter, maybe more)
"A plan," they huddled closer, "A way to get rid of those stones while causing the least amount of damage to us, the community, and the government. It'll take all of us, and then some, so before I even explains what it is, I must know; do I have your support?" The original members shared glances.
"Why even ask?" This came from Shadowfaller (so many shadows! I guess it is a 'shadow' council) a human, surprisingly. He met Zorath through DA and Zorath invited him to the council, believing he was a dragon from the way he portrayed himself online. He was in for a big surprise when during the first meeting a human walked in and said he was Shadowfaller. He was known as the odd one out of the council. A taller, white human, a tad over six feet tall, (guesstimate) with brown hair, blue eyes, and a rather infamous quote: "BA! *coughs*... I've spent way too much time with dragons." Even considering all this, and that the dragons around him loom from a foot to much more (with Robinton) over his head, he was utterly composed. He was among friends and as safe as possible.
"Like I had said before," Zorath replied, "there's someone in here who's out to get us. I know it's none of you. It just can't be. So it has to be one or more of our newer members."
"But you are still going to make sure you have our word anyway," Timber said for him.
"Exactly! This isn't going to get spoken after this meeting. Understand? I want your words." These vows were given, and the group got down into the core of Zorath's plan. Lots of time, research, and development went into his planning, but some skills and resources had to be collected that was outside Zorath's power to get. Luckily, the original members had the connections to supply Zorath with what he needed.
"Kettou, you know what you gotta do?" Zorath asked after they worked out the fine details, and tiptoeing that were soon going to be put into action. Kettou nodded in reply.
"Yup, it shouldn't be hard to bribe my way to what we need."
"Good!" Next, he turned to Torkos.
"You don't need to ask me. I'll have my kit and my gun and I'll be ready to roll."
"Same here!" Drakko assured. "My gun is at your command. I just have to pull the trigger."
Zorath then turned to Draco Draconis. He was the scientist of the council. Give him a computer to hack, a machine to reverse engineer, or a gadget to pull apart, and Draco will have it done quickly and efficiently. As long as you say please. He was an red dragon (another one) with a gold underbelly and ridge along his back, with a full head of gold hair, a bit of bloody colored fur on his legs, and multiple tattoo type things on his shoulders. "Will it be ready within a week?"
"That depends," Draco began, "I need the right materials: the thermal imager, a correctly focused ocular lense, iron alloy, fiber glass cables, dials and butto-"
"We get it! The whole kit," Edge interrupted, rolling his eyes, "just put it down on paper." Draco glared at him, but kept his snout shut.
"Once all we have everything, we meet in England. From there we go forward, and hope it goes without a hitch. The world's at stake here, and we cannot afford to fail." He received consents from the other members, and stepped forward to the dais. All conversations stopped within a heartbeat, and Zorath's eyes roved over his sovereign.
"I has been decided," he declared to the crowd, "that a select few of us shall be heading to England to solve the problem of the stones on our own. It is obvious the government won't be removing those stones on their own, for why would they remove a chance at power? Therefore, we won’t even try to do this diplomatically. We’ve already decided on a plan, and need but a few volunteers to help us carry it out!” The room was absolutely silent, none wanting to stick their necks below the executioner’s blade, for that was the only way this would end.
“Who’s we?” shouted a vibrant turquoise dragoness. Once again, the assembled dragons mimicked one of their number’s question.
“The original council members and I have agreed that something must be done, and if nobody else will take action, we must step forward. Our plan, should it not go wrong, will not inadvertently affect anyone outside this operation as long as we stick to it. Now, again, we will need help from maybe twenty of you. This will be dangerous, and the stakes high, so those of you who are afraid of supporting your brethren, the exit is open.”
Robinton sidestepped from the exit, glaring at the council, daring anyone to leave. He had already been briefed on the plan, for he wasn't among the group as they discussed it due to his size and station. None left the chamber. Zorath heard Rekalnus grunt in admiration nearby.
“When do we meet?” asked a dark green and black dragoness who stepped forward towards the dais. “Cause I want to get in on this!” Her defiant posture showed she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“In a week,” came the reply. Her head frill flexed with satisfaction, and most original members were struck with the thought of Drakko.
She nodded, “I’ll be there,” and turned to walk back into the crowd.
“Wait!” The voice stopped her, and she turned back to regard Zorath disdainfully.
“What?”
“Can we get your name?” Zorath seemed genuinely curious about the dragoness, and Torkos, along with a few others, couldn’t disagree that she was different in some way.
“Call me Megs. That’s all you need to know.” She continued walking, and disappeared into the gloom and the crowd.
“Wouldn’t want to run into her on a bad day,” Torkos commented as more dragons began to shout their names up to Zorath as they volunteered to the operation. “I feel like she’d more than readily dish out some scrapes. Deep ones.” Edge laughed at his observation.
“You say that about every dragon and/or dragoness who shows a little bit of a backbone. Personally, I think you’ve been around humans too long! No offense to you Shadowfaller, of course.” Shadow waved it away. “Besides, this kind of attitude is rather common to dragons.”
Torkos glared back at the smarting barb, “You think I don’t know that?” he growled, “I’m just saying that it takes guts to do what she did. Humans, for the most part, are soft and only act tough (and sometimes are) in a group. Dragons are tougher separately, but our fatal flaw is that we normally stay separate. It’s not in our nature to congregate together. Humans though, naturally search one another out during desperate times.”
“And this is important how?” asked Drakko with a grin. Torkos was about to take the bait, but instead snorted a puff of smoke and stomped away. “Was it something I said?” Drakko asked, giggling with glee.
“He can be such a hothead at times, “noted Enerin.
“That’s nothing, you should see what happens when I call him Barney.”
“Did you just say... BARNEY?” laughed Hatkah. “Why haven’t I heard of this?” The others too, were laughing like no tomorrow.
“It’s an old joke,” Drakko told them.
“I don’t doubt it, considering how old ‘Barney’ is. You must’ve made it up when you guys first met.” Timber said.
“Pretty much!”
“Damn! I remember watching that when I was a kid!” Shadowfaller said, “How did that song go? ‘I love you, you love me, we’re a biiiiiig famil- oh hey Zorath.” Zorath had walked over while they laughed after collecting the few dragons who volunteered aside from Megs.
“24,” he said.
“What?”
“24 volunteered. We’ll be meeting in England in a week, and this council’s over. We have shit to do, and I expect you all to be ready when the time comes.”
“Don’t worry about us!” Edge said, “We got everything under control.”
“See that you do, “was the curt reply, “I’ll see you all there, now I gotta head home. Home, home. Happy hunting.”
“Cya!”
“Bye!”
“Asta Lavista”
*nod*
Zorath waved goodbye and padded to the steps leading down and out. “Did he leave already?” Torkos asked, returning to the group.
“Yup, and I gotta go too. Cya guys!” Edge said, waving goodbye with Elsie following.
“Bye guys!” she said, before turning and following her mate.
“Well, while you assholes talked about the Barney thing,” Torkos said, hearing Drakko and Hatkah laugh. He rounded on the two, “Yeah, I heard it, and just so you know... know what? I’m not even going to start! Anyway, I called my mate and told her I’m going to head back. If I start flying now I’ll be there by morning, so I gotta go. It was nice seeing you guys again, but for better or worse, I’m not completely sure.”
“Worse I’m sure, “Timber said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you get some interesting comments on DA in the near future.”
“Don’t remind me, “grumbled Torkos as he made his way towards the steps. He politely excused himself and left the original members to their somewhat immature gossip. As he left, he took notice that the dragoness, Megs, was nowhere to be found. ‘She probably left, ‘he thought, not really caring. He had to get to his mate, for he knew he wasn’t going to be able to see her for a very long time once he left for England, and as he took off from the cave entrance, feeling the rush of air under his wings and on his scales, he decided that maybe he should start flying again.