Gamleon's Tail ~ Welcome to the worlds of : Within ~

 "Oh, so you're gonna go back and do this again, the old idea of 'it's better us than someone else.' You're stalling," he wanted to add, but the words never left his lips.

"Yes, I suppose, unless you just want to stop." They both felt the word "stop" and the weight of the meaning it had between them. Mettion patted the red silk of the large padded and raised area he reclined on. "Sit," he suggested in a toying type of surrender.

Makerus plopped down in a way he knew would cause Mettion to have to move around, readjusting. Just another power play in their dance. One well played. "I've thought about it, especially as of late. There's a place where these great flows of red molten rock pour out of the very earth itself. And the heat is so intense it melts everything in a type of slow-flowing river... I imagine if I could just get close enough...."

"Oh, this again. And you're going to talk to me as though we were both children. What are you gonna do, throw yourself in there? Just end it all?"

He paused and let out a deep, slow sigh. They both sat there thinking, each staring into the distance blankly.

Eventually, Mettion continued thoughtfully, "You're right, though. It probably would work, and that probably would be the end of you."

"Don't lie and say that you haven't thought of it yourself."

"You know, I'm no mere minion."

"You haven't laid there wishing it would be better for it all to just be over?"

"My, are you so sick of everything, again?... You know it comes and goes."

Makerus hesitated. He motioned towards the wine. "May I?" He took before the answer came.

"When the Elder Dragons had their early upheavals, I was there at Luxley. Things got bad. Hectic. Confused. I ended up fighting against the Father of Sky. He took me up into his huge hand and tried to crush me. Tried turning me into some mangled ball of mush, just destroying me altogether.

"I kicked, slashed, ripped, cut, and pushed... pushed my way almost all the way completely through his palm. I was hanging half out the other side when they rescued me. I thought that would be the end. I spent... I don't know how long in the vats recovering. With that much pain and that much damage, I've often wished that they'd just let me go.

As they made their way to the closest armory to pick out things to help them not destroy one another in their upcoming sparring, a group of well-known attendants slithered past, carrying some special items to be placed in the opulent chambers of Makerus. Among them, beautifully displayed in a thick, beveled glass case with lead, platinum, and silver hinges and reinforcements, rested one very peculiar and powerful item that caught both of their attention as it passed. The servant, sensing their interest, set it down before them and pressed themselves against the wall, murmuring amongst themselves quietly as their superiors began to converse.

A large, mesmerizing eye sat unblinking in its trappings, staring back at them—an intricate design that was as close to a magical artifact as anything could be in their world. Surrounding the eye in all directions were vein-like raised and branching protrusions that seemed at once wet and throbbing. This living armor was designed and born to connect with the wearer's body, serving a dual purpose: not only to facilitate healing but also to channel incredible powers.

What was its relation to Karaswa. The case it now rested in clearly once had his name etched deeply into it. But did it hold something completely different in those times?