The Quest for the Diaktrite Gem!

Chapter 1

That was weird. As The Obsidian sped through the strangely clear skies, Mercedes wondered why there were no tempestuous storms over the underwater volcano, The Marine Menace. Its dragon-in-residence, the elemental serpent Kendri, usually used her weather-manipulating powers to wreak havoc on the climate. However today it was quiet. Eerily quiet. Just then, Midas and Rian came out of the mess Hall, laughing and being uncouth.

“Come on guys, you’re too old to be having food fights. Rian, you’re 3,000 years old; act your age!” sighed Mercedes, disapproving of The Obsidian’s soothsayer, Rian. Meanwhile, Midas (North Falconia’s richest 15-year-old) squirmed noticeably in the rising temperature.

Although the captain and the crew of The Obsidian were meant to be passing Dragonio’s Peak by now- on the way to finding the Diaktrite Gem-, they were only just leaving Eyeland, as they had all been intent on having a 3-day shopping spree in Eyeland’s capital, the Metropolis.

Whilst Mercedes scolded Midas, Rian suddenly dropped his spoon mid-mouthful, his eyes glowing a deep, rich shade of blue.

“Not again!” whined Midas, knowing something bad would happen.” Don’t even tell me: I don’t want to know.”

“What’s wrong, Rian? Who is it?” asked Mercedes, beginning to be aware of danger.

“Duck!” yelled Rian in a gravelly voice, just as a neon green fireball exploded on The Obsidian’s deck. Mercedes’ mother, Captain Niamh, jettisoned the engines, spiralling into the Cerulean Sea. A storm rode in, baring its barbed, forked teeth. Mercedes tugged off her amethyst ring, which morphed into an opalescent sword. Midas , whose palms were sweating, hid under a chair.

Dense, driving rain swirled in the sky like molten silver pounding the crew as Mercedes desperately swung her sword through air, hoping for a solid connection.

“What’s going on?” Mercedes asked. Just as the unknown creature damaged the hull of The Obsidian, a blood-curdling roar echoed throughout the lightning-forked sky. The last thing the captain and crew saw before descending was a man with a hooded mask  metamorphed into a serpentine dragon and swim away. Had he left them for dead?

Chapter 2

Before anyone was aware of it, the ground rushed up to meet them, eager to see their demise. Captain Niamh desperately wrenched the tiller to the right, narrowly escaping a colossal volcano. Meanwhile, Mercedes frantically attacked a Stippled-Peak Kittiwake, which was attracted to the skyship’s balloon-and Rian’s electric blue hair!

“Brace for impact!” cried Captain Niamh, as they all prepared to descend into the canopy of a seemingly verdant rainforest. Simultaneously, the taut crew resorted to praying that they would land in an open space deep in the heart of Gale Rainforest.

As the Kittiwake slyly tore open the dragon-scale balloon and flew away, The Obsidian crash-landed in the vines of a Banana Tree. Midas slowly and cautiously reappeared from his hiding place, and gazed-his mouth agape- at the biodiversity around him.

All around him, different birds and dragons, of all shapes and sizes, lived in harmony, either hunting or simply being at peace with one another. Fleshy, broad-leaved ackee trees provided sweet, crunchy honey nuts for the moon aurochs, which would gently roll the pearly moons across the skies. Darting through the lily-pads of Snake River, 3 electric elvers played with each other, full of curiosity, and tried(in vain) to catch their tails. The Bromeliad Mantis, hopped from rubber tree to rubber tree, waiting for unsuspecting bees to build hives on it. Gale Rainforest was alive and bursting with colour, like a painter’s canvas, and Midas could not stomach all of the vibrant scenes around him.

Thirty minutes after Midas’ revelation, Mercedes, Rian and Midas were stuck on the dilapidated Obsidian, with strict instructions not to leave.

“This isn’t fair!” whined Rian.” I’m 3,000 years old: it’s not my fault I look 15!”

“Whose is it then?” retorted Midas and Mercedes in unison.

Just then, a strange sound reverberated throughout the rainforest, silencing the birds.

The Marine Menace

Spiralling out of the water,

The marine menace twists ands turns,

Churning up tsunamis with a burst of water.

Submerged in a deep body of ocean waves,

The atrocious dragon scours for prey,

Scanning the far expanses of the unending reservoir for fish.

Its sparkling, ultramarine eyes mirror the kaleidoscope of the coral-

A symphony of red, green and blue.

Dominating the ocean,

The serpentine dragon’s barbed, arrowhead tail propels it through the water,

Cutting and piercing anything that dares to come into its path.

The snake-like creature’s spear-like scales rest on its body,

Reflecting the iridescent rainbow of fractured sunlight.

As the ophidian creature opened its webbed jaws,

Rows upon rows of serrated teeth were coated with a delicate film of bones, blood and shells.

As the colubrine dragon disappears into the darkness of the abyssal ocean,

The only lasting sign of its appearance is a brief image of scalding water,

fighting to get a taste of air.

You are the Tragedy of Life

You are an esoteric book, waiting to be read page on page, corners turned to mark your interest.

You are the undying vitriol of the vain moon as the selfless sun is praised and worshipped during the day.

You are a bullet, speeding through flesh and bone, ending the life of an innocent.

You are a weeping willow, listening to secrets and pondering their true meaning.

You are Death, slowly engaging in a tug-of-war with your body over your spirit.

You are the impossibility of a diaphanous glass pane going opaque.

You are the distance between war and peace, measured in lost lives.

You are an eye, seeing all, and offering a window to what is within.

You are a gargoyle, silently sobbing as passers-by desecrate the sanctity of your home.

You are a worker ant, incessantly collecting food, day after day, wanting to win the affections of the Queen.

You are a black cat, as fleeting as a whisper, mistaken by all to be a witch with a penchant for enormity.

You are the last words of a poem;

you are the end of all.