Enter the Final Distortion

There weren't always dragons in the valley. No, the stories of beings raining the very power of the sun to smite their foes, and breathing life into the very stone upon which you stand are fancies. Great fictions upon which a the grandest of equalisers had wished upon the World that she came from.

Her dreams the reality in which you breath, are ones of her own grandeur. Ones she has only been able to bring to actualisation in her wildest of nightmares and dreams. Even the most powerful of creatures, or in this instance, the highest Deity, must awaken eventually, and the signs bring that truth to fruition. For there have, and should never have been, dragons in the valley. The sacred roads of Elaria's slumber. Previously adorned by the battle that would wipe away the grandest heroes, the Chimerans, the Garnumites, the Elovites and the High Emissary Coaltion were left in pieces. An impossible sea of flooded planes burning with flames that seemed to never extinguish, the Mountains turned to rubble and the Sun seemingly extinguished as only the greenish hue of Garnumite radiation showed the Visage of the land.

Yet things could, and would, only worsen. For as our survivors stared upon what was left of the World, a singular Talon, longer than that of the warships that brought our fighters here, pierced the Earth's Crust. Followed by a dozen more Talons, reaching and splitting the ground into multiples pieces. Behemoths bigger than cityscapes ripped free of the Earth bringing Gale-force winds with the beating of their divine wings. Their scales glistened like the moonlight reflected off of the calmest river, each unique in the design. Some with heads adorned with spikes and protrusions like that of shattered marble, others slick with scales closer to that of a serpent. All of them large enough that the very sky above shined like the light of the moon.

The Creatures flew above the ravaged landscape. The first to shatter the mantle, spoke in a tongue that was more guttural than language.

"Ieestima Na Ila Mirae Tunor Landas Putor Colaga". The voiced boomed from above, surveying the lands, until a singular group caught his eye, stranded on a landmass no bigger than the deck of a merchants ship, slowly detaching itself from the land below.

"Quiele Timor No Lanas Elliuage". Yet again, the voiced boomed, and the land ceased its movement. A singular Talon stretched out and the island was beckoned toward him. He could feel the resistance the group was making as he pulled them into his presence, fighting the winds caused by the surrounding mythics. The island lurched to a stop, and the Dragon lowered it's head, peering into the very soul of the creatures below. Fear is all the being could feel coming from these people , to them he was death, the end of their story and the snapping of their closed book. To him, they were precisely what was needed, the perfect tools, the dream eaters. He reached out a clawed finger and with the most impossible of gentle touches, caressed the forehead of the foremost person on the island and suddenly, the creature turned to dust. His mind flooded into the body of the person below.

The others regarded her with intense fear as her body began to write, the mind of the winged deity flooding, squashing the person there before and replacing the soul on the inside. She turned around, horns like that of shattered marble had begun to protrude out of her skull, the form was loosening, breaking apart from the weight of the creatures might killing her. She reached out her hands and spread her soul amongst those that remained. The others died and their vessels became his own. Balancing his own power amongst the other 17 survivors. This had bought him enough time, their vessels would burst, but not yet, not until it was done.

The vessels rose into the sky, sprouting wings of glistening light greater than the brightest star, the features growing more grotesque and decayed by the second. They flew at impossible speeds, towards the end of the valley. Towards the only building that stood left, untouched, to the keep of Elaria Stormheart. The warriors trying to defend the keep could do nothing against their might, a single raised hand turned their souls to dust, and their emaciated forms were all that remained. Until they finally made their way to the highest tower, each step on the cobblestones a step closer to victory. Until the door to her chambers were all that was left. He reached forward to grab the handle and saw that he was trembling. The flying divinity was terrified to do what he was about to do. He pushed the door open, heavier than that of Earth itself, to see a room surrounded in white light, it burned his skin to even be in her slumbering presence. He walked forward, and made his way to her bed. Her form was of beauty, her hair a gorgeous brown that rested comfortably around her slender shoulders. The Dragon took a clawed hand, his true soul peering through, and gently, roused Elaria from her sleep. The world quacked, yet he pressed on, more forcefully waking her, getting more and more aggressive until he struck her as hard as he could. Her eyes opened wide, the very universe shattered, and the Dragon grinned, falling back to where he came. All of time, happened at once, history as a whole fell into true reality.

The final distortion ended. Elaria had awakened.