Chapter 1

	Chapter I
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THE GREAT LORD ALAZAR was livid with rage. "What in the name of my hell-fires just happened!?" He roared.
     The Moltres Lord was a proud bird, and a fine orater. He'd just been divulging in his usual rhetoric when the massive concussion interrupted him, sending everyones' attention to the wind. Now Alazar burned with anger. "I'll fry the intruder alive! The insolent moron!! I'll send him to an untimely damnation in hell!" and he loosed a ring of fire for emphasis.
     Such was the level to which the Moltres Lord had sunk: able to stir the hearts of even a Snorlax to action, but cursed with an ego and temper the size of Jupiter, Mars, and Uranus combined.

     "Shut your filthy beak," Agravar, high Lord of the Zapdos spewed, "or hell is just where I'll be sending YOU!!" His face contorted irritably, static crackling through his plumage.

     Alavar whirled about. "Is that a challenge, Agravar?!", he shot back, mockery in his voice as he spat the thunder lord's name.

     "Ha! I don't need to challenge you, Alazar! You honorless snake! I'd rend your cursed hide to ashes with my weakest thunderbolt!"

     That did it. The instant Agravar finished the "t" on "bolt", Alazar hurled a massive fireball at the offending Zapdos. But Agravar dodged the attack. Encased in light-screen, he took flight, sending a bolt of electricity at the insolent Moltres. Yet Alazar was also too quick for his opponent's offensive maneuvers, redirecting the Zapdos's thunderbolt with a great fire-spin. Shards of glowing crimson and yellow static scattered everywhere, descending upon the other Sky Lords. Screaming in rage, everyone joined the brawl: A deadly blizzard from Galatial, the Lord Articuno, filled the council room, counted by a sweeping gale from Irirbris, Lord Hurriclone; day and night interchanged as Celestiore, Lord Shimiron, and Ebovor, Lord Fellsong, exchanged blows, each encasing their side of the chamber in shadow or brilliant light; and Christonafilar, Lord Lunsol, squared off against Hellipsar, Lord Ho-Oh, each out-shining the other with a myriad of brilliantly colored fires, moonbeams, and intensely hot sunny day attacks.
     Suddenly, everyone swapped opponents; and then swapped again; and then ganged up on each other; and then everyone just attacked everyone else.

     Outside, a massive thunderstorm reached its full intensity, raining hail, lightning, sleet, and snow down upon the earth below. Everyone knew the Sky Lords where at it again--for which their own realms suffered!

     Finally, the elemental titans collapsed on the council room floor, utterly exhausted, too weak to even squawk insults. In fact, they'd been so preoccupied, none saw the two figures who now stood within the council room's entrance.

     Roobo took in the scene before of him: steam and smoke filled the expanse of a blasted-out council chamber, and eight colorfully feathered poultry, their once glorious plumage now marred, burnt, fried, frozen, sliced-and-diced, and, on a few places, gone altogether, strewn about the floor, so worn they could hardly breath. Indeed, the birds had actually expended most of the room's air, which now reeked like burning sulfur. Day and night still flickered on and off, thanks to the disruption of that natural cycle by the Shimiron and Fellsong.

     Outside, the storm subsided, passing away as quickly as it had begun.

     Wrapped in the solid protection of his nearly impenetrable force shield, Roobo stood by his master, both of them silent witnesses to the desolation these eight Lords of the Sky had brought upon each other (the room also stank of injured flesh).
     Roobo shook his head, "I think they're in a listening mood now." He made the statement matter-of-factly--Roobo can be frank, but they are never sarcastic.

     Clark stretched the muscles in his neck, realigning the vertebrae with an audible pop.

     "I think you're right."

     He and Roobo had entered the council chamber anticipating conflict, but not of this sort. It had not occurred to Clark that the great Sky Lords' quarrels were this severe, and now that he'd seen it, he wished he had not. Was there hope for such deep-seated hatred?

    "Roobo."

     The Rhuid faced him, at attention.

     "Let's deliver our message."

     Hellipsar spotted the accursed Roobo while still prostrate on the council room floor, using recover to restore himself to power and health, when it glided overhead.

     No Rhuid alive would see him like this!

     He forced himself to stand.

     "You!," the fire Pokémon bellowed, rising to his full height, "How DARE. . ."

     The Ho-Oh stopped in mid-sentence; a male human also levitated overhead. Fear seized the arrogant lord. They all knew Clark Hammers and his Roobo. The Lords of the Sky bitterly detested the likes of Pokémon who allied themselves with humans, but they hated this Roobo and his master with a special kind of loathing. The prophesies had long foretold the coming of "Af 'non Eaylonin", "The One" or, as the legendary birds translated it, "The Destroyer". It seemed brutally unfair of God to bring this being into existence just to have it be subservient to a pitiful human!
     Hellipsar seethed with fresh rage. If a Roobo was here, it could only mean the High Rhuid knew of the Sky Lords' plans. But why did he send The Destroyer. . .?

     Hellipsar screamed, "Curse you and the bastard hellspawn who sent you! Get out of my chambers, or I will cast you out myself!"

     With that, the Ho-Oh clapped his great wings together, breaking the air with a thunderous boom. Shards of golden fire flew in all directions, sprinkling the other, still fallen Lords of the Sky with a hot mist. They came instantly to life, spewing obscenities.

     "Curses, Hellipsar!" Christonafilar spat, "I swear, by the ancenstral Lord of my race, I will surely kill you dead--here and now, tear thee asunder--if you. . .!"

     He saw the Rhuid.

     "CURSES!!" What is the meaning of this abomination! How did this worm get in here!!?"

     "Like that matters now!" Hellipsar shot venemously. "Come, all of you; we'll tear this vermin apart!"

     The Lunsol Lord laughed haughtily, "Ha! Stand aside! This one is MINE!!"

     "Not on your life, insolent moron!" Alazar roared, burning hot as ever, "Vengeance is mine! I will face this intruder!"

     "Not if I have anything to do with it!" Ebovor called, strutting arrogantly toward the other three lords. His ebony chest and feathers sparkled with a million crystalline studs.
     "You three couldn't spot an umbreon on a white hilltop in broad daylight! Move your incompetent splatter-holes aside! I will take this foe!"

     "Shut up, all of you!"

     An icy wind swept across the floor and howled to the rafters.

     "I will expel the intruder!" Galatial lashed out. "This stronghold was forged by my people; the Articuno are supreme here and their lord will defend his keep!"

     "Load of friggin' bull!"

     A cyclone blast screamed through the room.

     Iribris crowed maliciously, "You're all the lamest flock of squabbling pee-ons I have ever seen! If you where in my realm, I'd pluck you alive! Now move aside! I claim this battle!"

     "Ho, ho!" Agravar scoffed, shaking the last particles of dust and ash from his volt-yellow plumage. "You whore-flattering villains can't even defeat each other! By what delusional thought do you conclude any one of you saplings can prevail against a Rhuid, much less this one!?"
     The Zapdos Lord cackled, pointing a spiked wing toward Clark and his infamous Roobo, "I know his kind better than any of you. This opponent is beyond your skill to overcome; I will handle it, personally."

      "Sure you will!" Celestiore sing-songed."Arrogant has-been, your game is over! You should've retired a long time ago, old crow!"

     The other Sky Lords shook with rollicking laughter.

     Agravar's eyes narrowed to glowing white slits.

     "So, you think you can prevail? You'll sooner meet death!"

     "But not before you, cackling old buzzard!" the Shimiron trilled.

     All took to flight, ready to fight again, when Roobo finally spoke:

     "My Lords!"

     The atmosphere convulsed, hurling the squabbling birds to the ground. Stunned, the Lords of the Sky fell silent.

     The Rhuid continued, "The High Lord of the Rhuids sends you this message: Since the first dawn of this council, you, lords of the upper realms, have conceived of nothing but destruction; and from that time till now, destruction you have wrought". The Rhuid's voice was deep and even, but it shook the hall with his power. "The intentions of your council are known, great lords: You seek to take what is not rightfully yours."

     There was a moment of tense silence; each Lord of the Sky seemed to be contemplating these words for himself.

     At length, Agravar spoke, "Tell me, mightiest of all Rhuids, what business does your great lord have in this?"

     "That's right!" Hellipsar crowed, "We don't want your under-realm! Tell that sonofa-"

     With a slight forward thrust of his hand, Roobo knocked the Ho-Oh breathless. Hellipsar's eyes bulged as he gasped for air.

     "That will be enough; I see your intentions are as we perceived. You leave the Rhuids no other choice. War you cast upon the peaceful; against the innocent, you wield death. If you do not abandon these plans, judgment, harsh and swift, will be brought upon you. Reconsider, my lords."

     "I will reconsider nothing!" Alazar fumed.

     "Nor I!" Hellipsar instantly affirmed.

     With vengeance, he spat a jet of gold flame at the Rhuid. But Roobo intercepted the fire-dart, squelched it, and casually tossed the remaining ball of ash over his shoulder.

     "There is no need to attack messengers, great lord. My master and I have no quarrel with you."

     The Ho-Oh stared in disbelief, drops of liquid fire falling from his open beak, eyes wide with fear and dismay.

     "Be gone from here! GET OUT!!" He screamed. "You and that weakling human you call 'master'! Pathetic midge! And they have the audacity to call you the most powerful Pokémon that ever walked the earth! How ludicrus! If you ever show your butt-ugly face here again, I'll destroy you outright! No, I'll beat you up, tie your limp, broken body to a coconut tree, and then I'll torture you till you beg to die!! Curse you and your kind! Foul-!" But once again, Hellipsar was interrupted.

     The chamber shuddered. A seismic pillar of amethyst fire burned through the council room floor, exhaust forming on impact with the high icicled ceiling. Dense, pulsating mist cascaded down the walls, covering the floor in a purple haze.

     Hellipsar hopped about madly.

     "Curse everything!" he screamed above the roar. "Don't tell me the Dragon Kings know about this, too!?"

     The dazzling pyrotechnics ceased and the mist evaporated, revealing a great red creature suspended in mid-air.

     "Yes! They do indeed, master Ho-Oh!" it bellowed.

     The flying newcomer roared with triumphant laughter. He was a Dreydore, most powerful of dragons. Built much like a centaur--lower body standing on all fours, upper body humanoid in structure, with massive shoulders, chest, and arms--crimson scales covered the dragon's heavily muscled physique, glittering like jewels every time he moved. His under-side was shielded by overlapping plates of deep-violet, and along his great tail, a row of evenly spaced purple spikes descended from head to the tip of tail, which sported a fan of razor-edged flat-spikes.
     "So, what've you got for the world this time, 'Big Bird'? Famine, pestilence? Or perhaps just war and death, again?" He idly twirled the mustache-like feelers attached to his muzzle, inspecting the chasm he'd plowed through the chamber floor. "Heh! Now all you need's a screen door and a 'welcome' mat!"

    " Lord Galeswann!" Hellipsar groaned in recognition. "I should've known!"

     "Last year, you crash through my ceiling, this year you bore through my floor!" Galatial squawked, offended. "Can't you ever just use the FRONT DOOR!!?"

     "Eh? Ya'll have one of those?"

     "Aarrgh!!" The exasperated bird wailed, "Curse you, dragon, why are you here!!?"

     "Hmm, good question! So, what's the meaning of life?"

     "Galeswann-!!"

     "Not amused, are we? How ironic: you care nothing for life; even the death of your own kind brings you no grief. What is inconvenience to you, Galatial?"

     The ice bird was taken aback. The look on his face fell somewhere between constipation and disgust.

     Galeswann turned to the others, "I bring you tidings of doom, lords of the once-noble. The kings of the Dragon Council have met to discuss your threat and they have come to this decision: If you proceed with your plans, we will all go to war against you. Our forces have already assembled; the Lord of my own race hails you from the cloud city of Cryslis-Aernur."

     "What!!? That's one of MY strongholds!" Galatial screamed. "Just what does he think he's doing there!!?"

     "Huh? Oh, I dunno--out shopping for groceries? Queen gave him a list before we left, ya know!"

     This did nothing to humor the Articuno.

     "Okay, I'm sorry--must we be so serious!?" but the Dreydore chuckled in spite of himself. "The King and company arrived just last night. He'd planned on coming here in person, but got stuck in a chess match with the Lord Howlion--you know how he is. I had nothing better to do, so he sent me instead."

     "Poorest choice he's made yet!" Ebovor spat.

     "Yeah, well, nobody's perfect."

     The Fellsong grinned maliciously, "But surely the great Alomann, King of Dreydore, has others more worthy to send than his court jester!"

     Galeswann frowned, "I beg your pardon?"

     Agravar stepped forward. "You fools don't get it, do you! If we want to seize the earth, then tough! Fight to preserve yourselves, if you must, but you have no business, no right, to come in here!!"

     "Then justify thy own self!" a great voice roared from the chamber's entrance.

     All heads turned. The swirling mists parted before the new herald, a massive canine, rugged, yet kingly. A great autumn-hued mane adorned his regal figure of flowing brown hair; jagged slate colored plates protruded from behind his broad shoulders, and another mane of wispy pale-blue cascaded between them, down his back..
     Realion, High Lord of the Entei, strode majestically into the council room . . . and fell flat on his face.

      "Ar! Curse this ice floor!" he roared.

     "Ah! Realion, 'ol boy!" Lord Galswann exclaimed. "I say, how's it going?" The Dreydore glided over to the great Entei, extending his hand.

     "Galeswann?" Relion looked disappointed. "Where is Lord Alomann?"

    "Well, he's, uh--not here, obviously--um. . . Oh! It's embarrassing!"

     "He's up in Aernur playing a silly game of bloody chess, curse it all!" Hellipsar spewed irritably.
    The Ho-Oh glided down from his perch and stood before Realion, towering over him. He glared disdainfully at the dog. "What are you doing here!?"

     The chief Entei Lord stood his ground, head high, meeting the Ho-Oh's hateful gaze. "I have come, Hellipsar, to settle a great and bitter quarrel! And you, great Lords of the Sky, " he continued, striding passed the enormous fire Pokémon to address them all, "would be wise to listen!"

     Celestiore cocked his head sideways, a hint of annoyance in his song-bird voice, "What are you going to do, dog? Bark us to death?!" the Shimiron's belittling laughter resonated with scorn, "Really, Realion, you shouldn't trouble your people to die this way!"

     "Do not mock the Entei, Shimiron Lord, nor the Suicune or Raikou ; we can match your strength and overcome it, as Lord Hellipsar knows well."

     The Ho-Oh shifted uneasily behind Realion. He'd fought the Entei Lord years ago and lost woefully. It was not a memory he cherished.

     "I wish I could say you have but myself, the Dragons, and the Rhuids to contend with, but that is no longer the case. Another power rises; if you will not relinquish this plan you have conceived, The Great Guardian Elahnon will be forced to also come against you!"

     Through the chamber doors, the setting sun's brilliant rays penetrated the pale-grey haze, casting a final farewell to the world before the falling of night. Cool breezes laced the stratosphere, forewarnings of shadow and mist, and the earth below fell into quiet anticipation.
     Dead silence enveloped the room. Eight mighty Lords of the Sky stood as images chisled from stone. Before the dying of the light, the truth of their plight became painfully clear: there would be no war. If they proceeded with the campaign , their forces would be piteously outnumber, overrun, and ultimately overpowered and defeated. What was the point in fighting? Against these promised adversaries, they had already lost.

     "Well, my lords," the Entei boomed, "what shall it be?"

     "There is an spirit, born first of the will to live then corrupted by time, embedded deep within the hearts of all living things. . ."

     Hellipsar, Lord of the Ho-Oh, lifted his plumed head. . .

     ". . . Pride flows through our mortal veins. . ."

     Defiance burned in his eyes.

     ". . . so that, even in the face of impossible odds, we set our will against the inevitable. . ."

     Golden vapors erupted beneath him, and, spreading his massive wings, Hellipsar floated loftily above the others. . .

     ". . . It is with selfish ambition that we set the course of our lives. . ."

     With the voice of the four winds, he roared, "Go to Hell, Elahnon!!"

     ". . . and so it is by our own devices we fall. . ." Sophior, Lord Eauphoenix, lifted his eyes to the great cloud overhead, "Elahnon. . ."

     "Curse you!" the Ho-Oh screamed.

     ". . . you are summoned. . . "

     "You shall not prevail! We are god here!!"

     ". . . the time has come."

With a mighty heave, the waterspout erupted from the churning ocean, an infinite geyser of surging liquid. It rose like a pillar, from the sea to the heavens, until its topmost portion met the base of a certain formation of cloud.

      The Hall of the Lords of the Sky shook violently, pieces of the vaulted roof raining down everywhere as the waterspout locked with the floating fortress's foundation.

     "Hellipsar, you fool!" Ebovor screamed, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!? "

     An enormous cobalt mass shot from the sea. With blinding speed, it entered the funnel of water, ascending to the rolling white formation above. Elahnon, King of the Lords of the Sky, cut through the current, a missile locked on its target, closing with deadly intent.
     Not twenty leagues from his destination, the Lugia charged a ball of phosphorous energy in his open beak.

     "Bring it, King Lord of the Sky!" Helipsar called in reckless challenge. "I am not afraid of you!!"
     Still wrapped in his golden winds, the fire bird laughed defiantly.

     Through the hole in the chamber's floor, an ominous white light began to grow. . .

     "I am the greatest that ever lived!"

     . . . brighter, and brighter. . .

     "You cannot prevail!! I am god-!"

     Once again, the Ho-Oh did not get to finish.

The council chamber was rent in two by a massive, twenty-foot wide pillar of blinding white fire. Millions of stray energy shards turned the air into an inferno, acid gas that scorched the eyes and lungs with intolerable pain. Spitting fumes and wailing like hatchlings, Hellipsar and the other Sky Lords shot from the burning hall. Realion and Lord Galeswann held their ground with Clark Hammers and Roobo, encased in the Rhuid's force shield.

     When the devastation finally ceased, Roobo, Clark, and their new companions floated in mid-air. The entire council chamber and half the Sky Lords' hall were gone.

     Realion casually observed the last chunks of falling debris, "Few besides Elahnon cast an aeroblast with destructive power of that magnitude. . ."

     Hammers followed the Entei's gaze, "He is here, then."

Elahnon emerged from the swirling column of saphire; beneath him, the glowing waterspout receded back into the sea. Night had fallen, and dense shadows moved restlessly in the waters below. Kyogre stalked their nocturnal prey in the foreboding depths, silent and swift to the kill. Word of a great storm passed among them, and it was said that the High Lord himself had been seen ascending to the heavens. Even in the deepest valleys of the ocean, rumor of war had spread.

     The Great Guardian broke through the clouds, rising before the starlit night, his massive hulk an impenetrable void against the speckled backdrop. With a mighty voice that shook the hemisphere, Elahnon called his lords to return.

     From a good twenty yards away, Galeswann eyed the Lugia Lord uneasily. "You know, I wouldn't come back if I were one of them!"

     "Do they have any choice?" Hammers mused.

     The Dreydore scratched his chin, a hint of irony in his strong voice, "Heh! 'Guess not!"

     Again, Elahnon's deep-throated call echoed from one side of the horizon to the other, summoning the Lords of the Sky. This time, he was answered.

     A bolt of jagged lightning streaked through the heavens, thunder rumbling in its wake. Instantly, the night lit up, and the full glory of the Lord's of the Sky was revealed: streaks of ice with gold and crimson fire; pale moonbeams channeled through funnels of shadow and light; and a vortex of wind twisted them into a great spiral of brilliant, luminous color. Lightning bolts rained like falling stars, and in the distance, the thunderous beating of great wings could be heard, screaming to a hurricane-roar as the legendary birds returned. With a final surge of their powers, they encircled the mighty Lugia; with one voice, they sang into the heavens, "Hail, Lord Guardian of Light!" And in reverence, they spread their wings in a swift bow.

     Elahnon thundered in reply, "Hail, Lords!"

     The ceremony complete, they alighted upon a wide spread of dense cloud, folding their great wings, tossing back their majestic crests, ruffling their exquisite plumage. It was time for business.
     Elahnon paused for a moment, taking into account those present before he began, "Mighty lords of the upper Realms, I understand there has been a resurgence of strife among you." He spoke deliberately; unhurried, yet intent. The Lugia turned to the High Lord of the Zapdos, "Agravar, is this true?"

     The thunder bird met the Lugia's gaze, "Yes. It is true."

     "Why do you quarrel?"

     "My Lord," the Zapdos accused, "it was not our fault! We were holding our own council when these certain vandals turned up, destroyed our hall, and made a mockery of us!"

     "I see. Why were they here?"

     At this, the Zapdos Lord hesitated, clamming up. "M-my Lord!" he stammered, indignation rising in his voice, "It does not matter why they were here! They had no right to be!"

     "Lord Zapdos," Elahnon answered, "it matters a great deal to me."

    Everything went dead still. The other birds crouched, poised for attack or flight. Lord Agravar and the High Lord Elahnon stared each other down. For a brief moment only, Agravar's yellow body shivered as currents of electricity shot through his nerves and into his plumage. Elahnon raised his head, eyes glowing like shards of white fire. With an audible squawk, the Zapdos bought his anxiety under control.

     "It is a simple question, Agravar." the Guardian of Light pressed, "Why were they here? Is that so hard to answer?"

     "I have already answered that question." Agravar snapped.

     "Would you prefer I ask someone else?"

     "Why are you trying to make something out of nothing!?" The Zapdos was loosing his reign on himself. "I have told you what you need to know. Anything else is our business! You've no right-!"

     A chunk of ice hit Agravar in the back of the head.

     "Squawk!! What thu-!?"

     "Shut up already!" Galatial hissed. "Good grief! He already knows!"

     "What would I already know, ice lord?" Elahnon queried, now facing the Articuno.

     Galatial suddenly became very interested in cleaning his plumage, "Oh, look! I found a ledyba!"

     Hellipsar threw up his wings in disgust. Indignantly, he marched to the front, muttering unintelligible retributions, "Let's lose this psuedo-diplomacy already!" he fumed.
     Stepping around Agravar, he gave the thunder lord a withering glance before addressing Elahnon, "Excuse this idiot here, my Lord!" he began, waving dismissively toward the Zapdos. "His head's hard as an apricorn, and his brain's just as-!"

     The Lugia held up a wing.

     "Speak only on the matter at hand."

     "Tsh! It's the truth, you know!" The Ho-Oh stated indignantly. "Geez! No one gets any respect around here!"

     "Hellipsar, you do little to facilitate any."

     "And why should I!? Look at me! Look at us! Lords of the Sky'! Bull! Every time we try to take our proper place, everyone beats us down, including you!"

     "And what is that place you claim as yours?" Elahnon replied. "I will be forthright: from day one, each of you have strived to possess what rightfully belongs to others. I have watched your shameless brutality, the carnage you have wrought upon even your own people, as well as those with the courage to stand against you. Your individual crimes vary in degree and number, but as a whole, your talons are stained with innocent blood!
     "I know the general scheme you have laid this time--your tactics have not changed, nor have you learned anything from all your decades of war and despair. I gave you lords a chance to tell me yourselves, but you have refused to comply. I am here to bring a final conclusion to your incessant feud."

     Hellipsar stuck his lower beak out in an arrogant sneer. "You may be heir to the ultimate position of power, Elahnon, but you are still one of us!"

     "Am I? And are you so like me? Would you stand in my place, Hellipsar? Are you my equal? Do you wield my power? Has that been given to you?"

     The Ho-Oh grimaced, raking his mind for a suitable comeback, finding none. He squawked in frustration, gilded vapors curling from his hooked beak. "Okay, fine! You've got me there! But see here: We, the Lords of the Sky, by the ancient pact, are each of us our own sovereign entity! What business is it of yours what the rest of us do!? And why should we adhere to you, the Dragon Lords, the Rhuids, or any other bloody friggin' coalition!? Answer me that!"

     "A reckless and foolish demand, Lord Ho-Oh. According to the ancient pact you speak of, you are indeed sovereign, but also fully accountable to me, the Dragon Lords, the Rhuids, and every other sovereign entity--including each other--for your actions."
     The Lugia paused for a moment, regarding the insubordinate fire Pokémon. "However, you bring something important to mind, for this argument was presented once before, though not by you. . ."

     Elahnon trailed off, lost in thought. The other legendary birds glanced at each other, questioningly, then back at the Lugia. For a long time, the chief Sky Lord said nothing. Head bent, he stood completely still, eyes closed, his massive wings folded behind him--asleep, maybe?? But a pale luminescence escaped from beneath his eyelids, as if they'd been turned to look inward.
     In the foreboding quiet, the Guardian of Light skimmed through his vast stores of knowledge. Each memory flew by like a fleeting shadow, ghosts born of the deep past, stirred from their slumber by his turbulent crossing.

     Hellipsar shifted his weight, glancing nervously about. He knew full well he'd started this mess, cursing the High Lord, summoning him to the council. There would be retribution, he feared, for something so utterly arrogant and completely foolish. His gaze kept coming back to the Lugia. What kind of pain would he put the Ho-Oh through!? Couldn't he just get this over with??

     Elahnon emerged from the darkest recesses of his own mind, bearing in triumph the item he sought. It was but a small fragment compared to the entire volume of his near endless mental library, but the significance it bore to the current situation was greater than everything else combined. With no small effort, the Lugia hurled himself back into consciousness.

     The golden-fire bird was growing impatient, maybe while the Lugia was like this, Hellipsar could attack and kill him, and then no one would have to face punishment! It seemed like a plausible scheme, besides, what was there to loose? He looked around. Surely the other lords felt the same way; they wouldn't interfere. But what about those other vermin? Ah!! Sure enough, some fifteen yards to the rear, Clark, his Roobo, the dragon and the dog sat stoicly. Curses! With an audible sigh of defeat, Hellipsar gave up the idea. The Rhuid alone could tear him to pieces; if the Ho-Oh attacked Elahnon, it was likely the Dreydore and Entei would also be there to stomp out what was left of him after the Roobo finished. One offensive move and those placid figures would turn fierce. Hellipsar swore under his breath, why was life so unfair!? Heck! Things would be so much better if he could just have his own way!

     But Hellipsar's thoughts were suddenly interrupted.

     With a loud cough, the Great Guardian convulsed, rocking the skyline as his mind and body realigned in a state of consciousness. All the legendary birds shuddered violently; Hellipsar doubled over, shear terror registered in his blazing eyes. He began to seriously consider finding a place to hide. Even in the back, Realion and Galeswann sprung instinctively to their feet, claws extended and fangs bared for combat. Hammers winced, but did not budge, arms crossed, features devoid of extreme emotion. Only the Rhuid stood unfazed.

     Elahnon shook himself, shivering as small bolts of blue energy coursed over his body. His pale-gray hide glowed with a soft luminescence.

     "What the 'ell was that!?" Christonafilar squawked nervously. He was still shaking.

     The King Sky Lord raised both wings, commanding silence. Every beak shut. He turned to Hellipsar, "There was once a dragon king, Lord Ho-Oh, who made demands similar to yours." The fire bird looked puzzled. "Are you familiar with the legends from the dragon lore, Hellipsar?"

     The Ho-Oh gave the Lugia a skeptical look, "A little, why?"

     "Be seated, all of you!" Elahnon bellowed, clapping his great wings together. There was a thunderous crack. Instantly, their cloud platform began to move, descending slightly, but flying with increasing speed to the north. (No one had a problem with sitting!)

     Galeswann braced himself using all four legs, his tail, and one hand to keep from toppling over. "You know, maybe we should go now!" He suggested, waving his free hand to get the others' attention.

     "Perhaps!" Realion answered, reluctant. "But I'd like to see where we end up!" The wind was howling now, and even the Entei practically had to roar to be heard.

     Roobo's force shield suddenly encased them all, its spherical base stretching wide, latching onto the swift-moving cloud. The turbulent atmosphere was left outside.

     The Dreydore stood up. "Well, 'guess that means we're going." He peered casually out the transparent blue barrier. "Have any idea where we're headed?"

     Realion paced back and forth, stopping occasionally to glance outside. "Elahnon last mentioned something about the dragon lore." He stopped pacing. "I wonder, which one was he referring to. . ."

     "Huh. . . I dunno; could be any of 'em, I guess! Geez! I dare say I know each and every one of those archaic tomes like the back of my claws! Next to the legendary birds, we've had more wars than any other culture--mostly with them."

     "We could be on to something then. Among the kings of legend, which was most like Hellipsar?"

     The Dreydore snorted. "Oh, well, there were a few bad apples-- no way around that--but I guarantee you none of 'em were like that obnoxious Ho-Oh, not even on their worst day!"

     Clark levitated with Roobo in the shield's center, observing the world beyond. "We're crossing the Jhoto mountain range." He informed.

     Galeswann and Realion bounded over to his side, looking intently at the assortment of peaks and chasms below. Snow-capped giants and jutting spikes of bare rock came into view, were passed, and vanished from sight as their flying cloud carpet plowed deeper into the cluster of monumental structures.
     In the distance, a lone pinnacle rose out of the mists, its massive crest glimmering with pale moonlight. Turbulent gales howled mournfully around its cascading spires, a natural barrier through which no manmade flying machine could pass. The overpowering winds flowed from a deep canyon that surrounded the mountain, picking up boulders and other debris, propelling them upward. Like a colossal asteroid belt, swirling rings of razor-edged fragments grated against each other and the towering protrusion's worn surface, destroying everything in their path.

     Lord Galeswann looked disdainfully at the forbidding obelisk. "I might've guessed as much," he growled, "he's taken us to Cleft Rurn. . ."

     "Brace yourselves," Realion warned, "it's about to get rough out here!"

     Just before the first layer of deadly winds, Elahnon's craft came to a stop. Lifting off the prow, the Lugia took flight, soaring majestically toward the swirling emissaries of death. A harsh, grating moan rose from the chasm bellow, rising till it became a high pitched scream.

     Cleft Rurn perceived the Guardian of Light as he approached the mountain's defenses. With deft precision, a titanic bolder, nearly twice Elahnon's size, came hurtling out of the gloom, straight for the oncoming Sky Lord.

     Before the juggernaught projectile closed with him, the lugia spun around to meet the hurtling mass. A beam of blinding light shot from the Sky Lord's beak, piercing the boulder's outer shell, penetrating to its core and shattering the oversized chunk of rock into a million serrated shards. Shockwaves from the explosion disrupted the flow of debris within the churning turrets of wind, causing a momentary lapse in their strong current.
     As if on cue, the other Sky Lords flew from their perch, charging into the gap. Each commanding a storm of his own, they held back the deadly tide, exposing the raw face of the mountainside.

     Nested high within its deep crevices, Cleft Rurn's only entrance could now be seen.

     With a piercing cry, Elahnon cast a massive funnel of intense white fire at the cavern's opening. The other birds flew to the Great Guardian's side, hurling their elemental attacks into the pursuing winds. Their powers collided, twisting around each other, melting into the Lugia's brilliant vortex. Howling ferociously, the white funnel became a churning tornado of fire, sucking the Lugia, his Sky Lords, and his cloud transport, with its attached passengers, into the obelisk's gaping door.

Outside, the incessant gales resumed their original patterns, howling with a vengeance. Darkness enveloped the mountain's caverns. Cold mists permeated the entrance chamber, their invisible tendrils clinging to everything within reach. A faint luminescence began to emanate from the icy stone floor, wisps of gray haze dancing in a slow, rhythmic pinwheel, a galaxy over-laden with billions of clustered stars. It was surreally elegant, yet laced with foreboding, immanent with an unspoken promise of terrible doom.

     Elahnon broke the silence. "Welcome, great lords, to Cleft Rurn ."

     Celestiore shivered, "Why are we here?"

     "I will show you. But first, some light! Ilshnahf ahftell!"

     The dark cavern heaved. Pillars of crimson fire erupted from their molten chambers below, incinerating the deep silence with a crackling roar. Like monstrous serpents, the destructive columns writhed and intertwined, casting their ruby glare high into the vaulted ceiling. A massive bridge spanned the chasm from which the fire rings flowed. Its ebony walkway, polished smooth as glass, mirrored the swimming cascades of light.

     Without another word, Elahnon led his small company over the expanse and into the vast halls beyond. Solitary balls of white fire hung in midair, their live flames trapped in time, suspended high above the black crystallite floor. The adjacent walls emitted a pale-blue phosphorescence. Runes covered their delicate surfaces, cold murals of birds and dragons, wars, coronations, ceremonial rites, and many other things long forgotten, the last physical records of a lost age, preserved in stone.
     Deeper into Cleft Rurn the Guardian of Light went, through an endless maze of halls, vaulted passageways and corridoors. Luminous spheres led in all directions. Occasionally, the Lugia would pause to examine the characters etched in the walls before proceeding down the correct hall or passageway.
     The company finally passed between a long row of slender sapphire columns, rising with majestic grace beyond the suspended fireballs, into the impenetrable heights. Nine birds of legend, the Dreydore, the Entei, the human and his Rhuid emerged into a large, round chamber, ringed at regular intervals with more of the same crystal-blue collumns. The walls here were bare, and no other passages led into other rooms. The ebony floor was streaked with veins of gold and silver, and in the chamber's center was a large, circular pond of clear water. Golden light radiated from beneath its smooth, undisturbed surface.

     Leading the others around the great pool, Elahnon brought the procession to a halt. Folding his wings, the Guardian of Light perched at the water's edge. The other birds did likewise; Realion and Galeswann assumed a sphinx position; Roobo and Hammers sat cross-legged.

     "Now I will tell you why we are all here." Elahnon gazed into the glassy pool. "This is the Shimrhill aesuer, shining waters of purity or truth. From the first age to the present, the entire history of our world is held within their depths. The Eauphoenix reside in these halls, and with the other servants of light, they see to it that nothing is overlooked. It is here that the legends of old are kept in perfect tact; even to the smallest detail, nothing is forgotten."
     Elahnon extended his right wing over the pool, "In these waters, the ghost images of those legends are reborn to their original colors. It is the reason you are here--to witness the greatest of these epics."

     The Guardian of Light dipped his wing into the golden waters, "Sophior!"

     The apparition of a large bird appeared above the great pool's center. A mane of fire burned in seven colors around his neck and along the fore of his folded wings. His crest bloomed with a helm of long crimson-gold feathers jutting from the sides of his head and larger ones, tipped with amethyst, cascading down to his shoulders. Two oversized and atypically dense plumes came down over his chest, their broad, sparkling red surfaces fading to deep mauve at the tips. From beneath a broad decorative visor, the bird's finely-curved beak of gold protruded. The Eaupheonix's eyes could not be seen.

     "Greetings, High Guardian." A voice wafted from the phantom image. "You've company, I see. What brings you here?"

     "Greetings, Lord Sophior." Elahnon returned. "I request a tome, from the collection of legends."

     "A whole tome? Very well, which one shall I fetch?"

     "Call up the records of Ilshmeur; set the legend to Behemothor."

     "The Ilshgalath? That is a dark tale."

     "Yes; well suited for the occasion."

     The Eauphoenix bowed, "Very well, my lord. Give me a moment and the imaging will begin."

     Sophior's transparent shade evaporated before them, and in the crystal depths of Shimrhill aesuer, gray forms began to rise.

* * * * *

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Leon Placid/Sylph Knight