The Immortal Isle emerged from the sea, only to be visited by an outsider who sought to claim its power for his own. Ripple and our clan, of course, refused!
He bore a heart steeped in wickedness and wielded power that reached the heavens. Though clad in mortal flesh, he could grind dragon scales to dust. Wherever he passed, only ruins remained. We resisted with all our might, yet the Immortal Isle continued to fall. He looked down upon our clan, cold and ruthless, bereft of all humanity.
All the warriors of my clan had perished in battle!
The dragon's heart still harbors a thousand grudges, endless hatred smoldering within, yet the dragon's strength can no longer summon the storm or wield the blade.
Never had I seen Ripple so. She began to chant a dirge, even as she neared her final breath. Blood streamed from her eyes as her voice grew hoarse from chanting without pause day and night, while furious waves would at times crash upon this dead land.
I closed my eyes, listening to the lamentation sung for me
"Shells for shields and coral blades, the horn of conch echoes through mists and shades.
The Immortal Isle lies desolate, as new bones fall upon old remains.
What worth is the wrath? It guards no gate.
What worth is the grief? It soothes no pains.
How shall this hatred be unmade? Only when my foe lies cold and slain!"
...
The Immortal Isle is no more, and the Dragon Clan is wholly destroyed. Ripple is consumed by grief and driven mad by rage. The end draws near for her, and for me.
No waves stir the sea now; its waters are stagnant and foul. The Grand Shaman's power has faded, leaving the Immortal Isle unguarded and shattered. Some of it sank into the abyss with the dragon's bones, while the rest was seized by the invader and carried into the sky.
At the sea's deepest depths, scarce a glimmer remains yet why is the sky above just as dark?