Overdrive

High among the mountains of the Sunbeam Ruins, there was a valley wreathed in mist. Here, it would be easy to become forever lost among the shrouded peaks....


Which was why Overdrive stood well back from where the mist began. He knew of the accursed enchantments woven into the fog, knew the secrets they guarded: an Empire of god-favored dragons, ones who had been granted unimaginable power. The Sectonian Empire.


Overdrive snorted as he recalled how he’d first heard of the Empire. It hadn’t been in some monumental, earth-shattering way—the Empire simply had business contacts in the Tidelord’s Sea. Their trading ships, marked with the Imperial crest, were familiar sights to many.


But ordinary though their dealings were, rumors about them had persisted. Overdrive had sent subordinates to ascertain the truth: that the Empire’s leaders had indeed been blessed by the gods, that they were the vessels of tremendous power, the guardians of artifacts and enchantments of similarly powerful magic.


“All of them hiding behind their pretty little veil,” Overdrive sneered to himself.


His subordinates shifted uneasily. They’d heard the stories too, and they fervently hoped that their leader wouldn’t turn this reconnaissance mission into an invasion...


“We’ve seen enough. Let us be on our way.”


The other dragons relaxed. A Spiral tittered nervously, “Wouldn’t want to get swallowed up in that smoke! Err...”


He withered as Overdrive turned a vicious glare upon him. An uncomfortable silence followed, during which the Mirror’s lips peeled back to show his knife-sharp teeth. He was grinning.


“Such lovely enchantments.” He spat the word like a curse. “Meant to keep out the unjust, the impure of heart!”


“So you don’t believe the stories, sir?”


Overdrive’s contemptuous snort was answer enough. As he and his party started back down the mountainside, he growled, “Those Sectonians certainly do, though. What you believe says a lot about you...”


And he would thoroughly enjoy disabusing them of what they believed in.


~ ~ ~

Overdrive hadn’t been born to power. But he desired it, and that made him more dangerous than even the most privileged dragons. Early on, he discovered in himself an aptitude for combat and sorcery, and that only convinced him that he was destined to rule over others. Callous and ruthless though he was, he could also be quite charismatic, and many dragons were drawn into his service as he clawed and schemed his way to the top of his clan.


He had been clan leader for a few years when the Magmablood Rebellion erupted. Though many clans contributed support for the sake of taking down the corrupt Forgemasters, Overdrive pledged support for a different reason. With the Forgemasters overthrown, there would be a power vacuum—and he intended to fill it.


The Forgemasters, however, had many supporters of their own. It would take plenty of time and effort to dislodge them. With the rebellion promising to drag on for more years, Overdrive grew impatient. He began looking outward for something he could use...and eventually, he decided that if he could gain control of the Sectonian Empire, he would triumph once and for all.


“Emperor Overdrive! How magnificent I would be. I could conquer the Sunbeam Ruins, then take control here...”


For years now, he’d been sending his subordinates to gather information about the Empire. In their meeting cavern, the other rebellion leaders listened as Overdrive presented his plan: to invade the Empire, depose Empress Mirage, and take control of the people. “It will be difficult,” he admitted, “but with your wholehearted support, we shall—”


“It will be impossible, not difficult,” one of the other leaders spat. All eyes turned towards her as she said, “If your spies have confirmed that all the stories are true, then we shall not be up against a mere clan, but against the powers of the gods.”


Overdrive fought down his irritation. “As I said,” he continued, managing to stay civil, “the risk is great—but well worth the reward! With the Sectonians’ might, we could overthrow the Forgemasters in days instead of years. We’ll finally have the justice we’ve fought for—”


“There are other ways,” another dragon growled. “We’ll thank you not to choose the one that will see us all killed.”


The conference moved on to other pressing matters. Somewhere in there, Overdrive slipped away. He allowed his genial mask to fall off as he silently seethed. How dare those fools ignore him! Once the Sectonians’ power was his, he’d make them pay as well....


It was a measure of Overdrive’s arrogance that he didn’t consider that the other leaders might have a point, that he might even fail in his quest. In his eyes, he was deserving of power—all that remained was for him to seize it.


~ ~ ~

While most dragons in the rebellion disagreed with Overdrive’s plan, there were still those who supported him. He soon broke away from the Magmablood Rebellion, and as he readied his army, he continued to plot and scheme. He gathered more information about the Empire and its magic, about the dragons who dwelled within the protection of the mist...


The invasion began slowly, creeping into the Hidden Valley like a disease. Travelers were waylaid, guard outposts attacked. Those who survived these incidents described their assailants as a motley-looking crew, though the way they conducted their raids suggested that they were in fact well-organized.


“Organized or not, these brigands must be dealt with immediately,” Elizabeth growled. The rest of the Council of Crowns murmured—all Empress Mirage had to do was say the word.


The Empress and her Council had been going over the reports, and it looked as though the invaders used mostly Fire magic. She dispatched Nightstorm and Thyra to survey the affected areas.


Akatosh watched them go, his fans drooping. The Empress understood what was wrong, and she reassured him, “I am certain these brigands don’t represent the Ashfall Waste, Akatosh. You should not feel guilty simply because you share their birthplace.”


“You know me well, Empress.” Akatosh straightened up. “I had thought that perhaps, because you did not send me with the others...”


“We need your help here, in the Council Chamber. One as skilled in Fire magic as yourself can certainly teach us how to defend against it.”


The Banescale’s expression became serious. “It’s not just magic we’ll need to be wary of—Fire dragons will often fight with machinery as well.”


The chamber was built like a round stadium, with the Councilors on the higher tiers. Upon the floor, in the center of the room, was a gigantic map of the Empire. Akatosh looked thoughtfully down at it as he started to speak, and the rest of the Council leaned closer to hear him better.


~ ~ ~

The Empress’ dragons investigated the incidents, but their priority was the civilians’ safety. They evacuated the settlements lying just outside the shield. “Inside the Valley, you’ll be safe. The spells will protect you...”


On the day that Overdrive’s invasion began in earnest, the shield was hit in two different places. The sentries watched, expecting the invaders to be repulsed—and their tension escalated to terror when they realized that the outsiders were breaking through.


The Council of Crowns received the news grimly. They were dispatched to each point where the shield was breaking down: Daincie, Nightstorm, and Elizabeth; Taleth and November; Thyra; Akatosh...


Outside the shield, Overdrive watched as his sorcerers and engineers blazed through the mist. Their earlier incursions had paid off: They’d tested the Valley’s defenses and managed to ascertain where and how to best strike the barrier.


“Kynareth the Imperial has been sent forth, sir. Shall we launch our final assault?”


“Be patient,” he purred—and yes, now he could afford to be patient, since he was so close to his goal! “That’s...eight of them already, yes?”


And then the cry went up: “Sparatus the Veilspun has been sent against the northernmost team!”


“Now,” Overdrive hissed. Another lieutenant straightened up, her paws already blazing with magic. She fired a single bright blast towards the sky; it exploded, dyeing the air in vermilion.


At that signal, the rest of Overdrive’s teams emerged. All of them, together, formed a ring around the Hidden Valley, attacking with both magic and machinery. They struck at the same instants, battering the shield—and, weakened on all fronts, the barrier grew thin, and Overdrive and his army began slipping through.


Overdrive paused to breathe deeply of the magical air, feel the grass crushed beneath his feet. It began to crackle, then to smoke, as magic welled up inside him.


In the distance was the great tree, Yggdrasil. It stood clear of the battle, but soon it would be wreathed in smoke, its branches crackling with flame. Overdrive let out a great, bellowing roar of triumph as he headed towards it.


His followers continued fighting and, as Overdrive had instructed them to, they fought dirty—he knew from their earlier raids that the Sectonians prioritized the citizens’ safety. Whenever the troops saw one of the Councilors bearing down upon them, they retreated—behind homes, behind temples, places they knew would not be attacked, for fear of harming the dragons taking refuge inside. The Councilors often hesitated—and found themselves attacked by other assailants lying in wait.


A sizable chunk of the army, mostly mages, remained clustered around Overdrive. He would need them: There were 14 Councilors, and only nine had been sent out to defend the Empire....That meant five remained.


“And there’s one of them now.” Overdrive studied the Banescale veering towards them. The dragon’s body was drab—save for his wings and eyes, which were luminous green.


Dundrasil, guardian of the Great Tree. “Turn back, intruders,” he warned. “This tree is under my protection, and I will bring my full might down upon you—if I must.”


Overdrive barely took notice; he was laughing derisively before Dundrasil finished speaking. Around him, his soldiers readied their weapons and spells. Overdrive himself smoldered with fiery magic, smoke spouting from the armor that encased him.


“Finished talking already, Councilor? Why don’t you ramble a bit more? Breathe in all that fresh air...”


Despite Dundrasil’s wingbeats, the smoke was closing in again. He choked back a cough, his eyes blazing. Overdrive’s own eyes lit up in response. The Mirror laughed again, and then it trailed off into a roar as he leaped forward.


~ ~ ~

The situation was grave. The invaders had clearly researched each Councilor carefully, and plotted how to counter their strengths and exploit their weaknesses. The Councilors, however, still held their own—fighting for their empire and their people.


Great walls of ice enclosed the castle: the product of Thyra’s magic, conjured to keep back the flames. The castle itself was full of civilians and wounded seeking shelter. They thronged together in a fearful mass, but stood aside for Tovva and Himiko. A ragged cheer went up as the two dragonesses soared out to aid Dundrasil.


Yggdrasil’s crown was still visible, but most of the great tree was obscured by smoke. Tovva and Himiko stayed close together, warding it off with their wingbeats. “This accursed, reeking...!” Himiko hissed. “Now, where is—”


She broke off when she heard a groan. She and Tovva veered towards it—and there, sprawled on a great branch, was Dundrasil. Blood oozed from many wounds, including a great gash upon his chest...


“He still lives!” Tovva gasped in relief. Himiko’s face was grim. “We’ll have to carry him back. He’ll suffocate if we leave him here.”


As they bent closer, Dundrasil stirred. His eyes opened—wide with terror, looking beyond them.


“Look out!” he cried. The two dragonesses turned just as several forms dropped down from the canopy, claws and blades unsheathed. Without challenge or ceremony, the invaders shot forward, bearing down upon the trio.


“Protect him!” Himiko snapped—these were just common rabble; she could deal with them on her own. She blinked back and forth, slashing and cleaving; her attackers fell like wheat before a scythe.


“Once I’m done with all of them, we can get Dundrasil out! It won’t take long; they’re coming from only one direction.


“One direction...They want me to look in one specific direction...”


The thought, icy-cold, cut through Himiko’s fury—a split-second before a bolt of magic slammed into her side. She convulsed, screaming as pain lanced through her skull, crackled around her eye sockets....Through the haze of agony, she saw the attackers fan out, surrounding her and her friends completely. Just beyond them, glowing clearly amidst the smoke, was a lean, armored form. Four eyes, a head wreathed in flame...


Himiko tried to straighten up. She willed herself to blink back towards her friends so she could defend them...but nothing happened.


“Ah, yes,” the Mirror chuckled, his voice oily and sly. “Your Right Eye of Light is quite famous, Sage! Many have studied its nature, and considered how it might be countered...This is the first opportunity I’ve had to try such a spell.” He pushed forward, so close now that she could feel the heat radiating from him. “Looks like it worked.”


“I can still fight,” Himiko thought defiantly. She pushed back the pain and straightened up, preparing herself for further battle.


The Mirror seemed to take this as some sort of signal. He flicked his tail, and more of his marauders burst through the branches, homing in on the beleaguered warriors.


With Dundrasil gravely injured and Himiko still racked with agony, it was up to Tovva to spearhead the defense. The Umbra Witch fought valiantly, but the invading army bore down upon her like a smothering, burning flood. She had accomplished many titanic feats before, but against so many—especially with spells specifically designed to counter or nullify her own magic—it was only a matter of time before she fell.


Hours later, it was over. The three defenders lay where they’d fallen, at the foot of the Great Tree. Dundrasil was unconscious, and Himiko and Tovva barely clinging to life.


It felt unreal. Himiko, still drifting in a haze of pain, could barely see now. But rage still blazed within her as the terrible Mirror loomed over her.


“You...disgusting...worm. This land...will never be yours.”


“I think you’ll find that it already is,” Overdrive sneered. He raised his claws for the killing blow as Himiko glared back, unflinching.


The counter came at the last possible moment. Overdrive’s claws were inches away—and then, with heart-stopping precision, another set of claws darted down and out. Overdrive was bowled backwards in a cloud of smoke.


He sprang upright immediately, ready to bellow in rage—but his roar died in his throat when he saw who had stopped him.


Through the haze of confusion, Tovva and Himiko beheld their empress, hovering between them and their assailants. But it took them a moment to recognize her—they had never seen her like that before.


The towering fury, the rage. They had lived long and violent lives and battled other fearsome beings, but only rarely had they felt true fear. It gripped them now, when they saw their honored empress blazing with power and anger...


But they also felt a brief stab of pity—for Overdrive and his cohorts, whose battle was now as good as lost. The Empress’ anger would be terrible, for behind that fury was the fury of the gods.


“You were warned,” growled Mirage. Her voice, normally soft and even, now thrummed with the power of a vast hurricane. Even Yggdrasil seemed to groan as she continued, “The Ashfall Waste’s affairs are its own, and we will not choose sides in that conflict. But you...” Her eyes flashed as she drew nearer to Overdrive. “You would dare compel us with violence?”


Overdrive drew himself up haughtily. He launched into an impassioned speech about how his people were being oppressed by the corrupt Forgemasters...but his words petered out even before he was halfway through. Mirage looked steadily at him, and he suddenly knew, with utmost certainty, that she was staring into his soul, stripping away those charismatic lies to glare at the hunger beneath.


She didn’t waste time on words. Light blazed from her wings—Overdrive felt a bolt of pain lance through his body—and then it was over.


~ ~ ~

Overdrive’s army lost hope upon hearing he’d been defeated. Their leader had seemed invincible—he’d even taken on three Councilors at once! (Never mind that he’d had help from his army and Dundrasil had already been unconscious....) But with the news that he’d been subdued and Empress Mirage herself had taken the field, the invaders’ resolve had broken completely. Many had surrendered on the spot. Others had fled through the damaged shield and were lost in the gathering mist.


Overdrive himself was brought into the palace. There was no question about it: The invasion, and the turmoil and death it had caused, was entirely his doing. He had acted without the approval of the rest of the Rebellion; he had made the choice to seize power for himself—


“And now, he must live with that choice,” Empress Mirage declared. The Council of Crowns, still aching from the battle, looked somberly at each other, and they nodded.


The Empress’ words were almost literal: Overdrive was to be confined in the Dungeon of Eternal Life. He would be safe there, and in time, would probably come to terms with his misdeeds. They could hope that he would even learn from them...


But if he did not, then there would be no escape for him.


Overdrive considered these dire pronouncements as he was led away. Behind him, he heard the Council begin discussing the restoration of their land. “And how dare they brush me aside so easily!” he thought, gnashing his teeth. He was at least wise enough not to struggle or scream as he was led to the portal.


“Still, Eternal Life has its merits,” he thought with a smirk. After all, where there was life, there was hope. And he hoped, as he always had, for power...and for vengeance.


~ written by Disillusionist (254672)

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