Wouldn't entering the pool be worth the small sacrifice? She could avenge her father's death and bring about the destruction of that wretched city, Phlan, once and for all.
Slowly, she began to approach the edge of the pool.
It wasn't as if she would have to be the pool's guardian forever, she reminded herself. She had only to wait until the first unwary traveler happened upon the cavern. How easy it would be, to convince some lesser being to enter the pool's depths.
Sirana balanced on the rocky edge. The turgid water lapped mere inches below her clawed feet.
Come, sorceress. Is not vengeance worthwhile, whatever the cost?
"Yes," she whispered, the swirling flecks of twilight reflected in her blankly staring eyes. "I must have my vengeance."
Sirana plunged into the pool of twilight
She felt as if she were freezing into ice and burning to ashes all at once. The thick fluid dragged her body down. Sparks flashed in front of her eyes; the lack of oxygen seared her lungs. She clamped her mouth shut, fighting the urge to draw a breath. Oh, why had she done this foolish thing? Her consciousness began to grow faint.
Finally she could stand it no longer. She opened her mouth, filling her lungs with the pool's water in one horrible, shuddering breath.
She was not drowning!
She took another breath of the thick, metallic water, and another, and another. With each, she felt incredible energy pulsing through her veins, infusing every fiber of her being. The power she had experienced before was nothing compared to the primal magic she now felt coursing through her body, forging her anew into something awesome and terrible, into…
… the guardian of the pool.
Even as Sirana reveled in her new incarnation, the waters of the pool began to froth and bubble furiously. In a spray of shimmering foam, a huge creature burst forth from its waters and soared toward the heights of the cavern.
"Free!" a wild, thunderous voice trumpeted. "After all these centuries, at last I am free!"
The massive creature whirled about the cavern, stretching his midnight wings in ecstasy. The black dragon was a great, ancient beast armored with countless scales as hard and gleaming as onyx. The dragon's name was Dusk, and in all the northlands of Faerun there was not an older or more powerful creature of his kind. A full two hundred feet from his horned snout to the spike-studded tip of his tail, there was strength enough in his claws to rend mountains to dust.
The dragon alighted beside the pool. One of his black eyes shone in utter satisfaction, while the other was dim and clouded, blinded by an ancient but not forgotten wound. That foolish half-fiend, Sirana, had finally yielded to the temptation the dragon had dangled before her. Now she would be the pool's guardian, trapped in its silvery waters. Now Dusk would do what Sirana had been too weak and moronic to accomplish-completely and utterly destroy the abominable city of Phlan!
Memories flickered through Dusk's mind.
Three centuries ago he had ruled the skies over the Moonsea. All the cities along the coast had lived in fear of his shadow. Dusk had plundered wherever he went, amassing a hoard of riches that made the treasure of a hundred kings pale in significance.
Then he had devised his most brilliant plan.
He flew from mountain peak to mountain peak, from ruin to ruin, speaking with the other evil dragons that lived along the shores of the Moonsea. With sly, cunning words, he played upon the hatred that all dragons felt for human, dwarven, and elvenkind. He lit a spark in the hearts of the evil dragons-red, blue, green, and black-until that spark grew into a burning wildfire. One dark dawn, a hundred dragons flew from their hidden lairs to join his army and fight as one, assailing all the lands around the Moonsea.
Thus began the first dragon-rage.
Folk cowered in their cities as destruction rained down from above. Fire and acid, lightning and poisonous clouds, mayhem and devastation. Dragon wings blotted out the sun, and dragon roars boomed like thunder. It was glorious. And Dusk was the most magnificent of them all. The other dragons looked to him as their exalted leader. The tribute they had agreed to pay would make him lord over a mountain of treasure such as Faerun had never seen.
Or it would have come to pass, had it not been for Andehar Longarm.
Andehar was the latest in Phlan's irksomely endless supply of champions. Heroes seemed to breed like lice in that wretched city. Just as the dragon-rage was nearing the peak of its frenzy, Dusk had made the mistake of flying too close to Phlan's walls. Standing atop the city's battlements, Andehar had loosed an enchanted arrow from his bow. Guided by magic, the barbed shaft had struck Dusk in his left eye.
Dusk had never known such agony. He had spun wildly through the air, blinded by the pain. He fell to the ground and crawled away. Without his leadership, the evil dragons began to bicker among themselves. Hatred and suspicion flared. The dragon-rage descended into chaos as the wyrms sped back to guard their lairs from each other, leaving Dusk to flee abjectly to the mountains. He never forgot the cheers rising from the walls of Phlan, and he had vowed to exact his vengeance upon that blasted city and all of the vile folk that inhabited it.
Dusk had limped into a cavern deep in the Dragonspine Mountains, intent upon licking his wounds until he gathered the strength once again to assault Phlan. But he had not counted on the pool of twilight. He had stumbled upon it by accident, and in his delirium of pain and anger had succumbed to the tempting offers of power made to him by the storm giant who was the pool's guardian. Dusk had agreed to enter the pool in the hope of gaining the power he needed to recuperate and wreak the ultimate vengeance. The storm giant had been freed-while Dusk found himself trapped.
Over time, Dusk had discovered he could use the power of the pool to compel the multitudes of monsters that inhabited the mountains to do his bidding. All it took were a few droplets from the pool mixed with the underground streams that flowed below the cavern. Once the streams passed into the outside world, all manner of creatures drank from their waters, thus falling under Dusk's sway. Over the centuries, he had amassed great hordes of creatures and sent them to attack Phlan. Time and time again the monsters failed, dying by the thousands against Phlan's stubborn walls. Eventually Dusk realized that there was only one way he could destroy Phlan. He had to launch a new dragon-rage.
And now that he was finally free, he could do just that. Only this time he would not send a hundred dragons against the cities of the Moonsea. He would send a thousand! He would not be simply a prince of his kind, or even a king. He would be an emperor of dragons, and all the lands around the Moonsea would cower in fear before him.
Dusk unfolded his huge, shadowy wings, exulting at the glorious victory that would soon be his. Ah, but first he had to say a fond good-bye to Sirana. As the pool's new guardian, it would be her honor to grant him the power he needed to summon the evil wyrms for a new dragon-rage.
"Sirana!" he called out. "Heed my call!"
Why should I, wyrm? the sorceress's voice echoed in his mind with a sound like laughter. It was clear she was enjoying her newfound status as the pool's guardian and was intoxicated by the incredible power. Sirana was even more of a fool than Dusk had imagined.
The dragon grinned evilly, displaying row after row of daggerlike teeth. "Obey my wishes, sorceress, or I will pulverize the mountains, sealing this cavern under so much rubble that it will never be discovered. You will remain here, imprisoned, forever."
He could feel fury radiating from the pool, along with just a hint of fear. His feral grin widened. She would be forced to serve him.
Very well, she replied sullenly. What do you wish, wyrm?