Chapter 38

Merlia stood frozen, nails biting into her flesh, the blood that came reminding her that she still drew breath. Eyes wide, she stared blankly out to the churning sea, the tornado that now held fast her two friends. Friends who had taken her in, filled her months with smiles and song, now doomed to die because of her. She couldn’t look away, shield herself from the grim fact, that was her curse. The dragon that held her didn’t demand her to watch but she owed Arcturus and Veledar this, to have this memory committed to her very being from now on; the night her betrayal came to fruition.

The dwarven ranger found herself in one of the keep’s halls, one large enough that the lord of flame could assume his normal size and recline in the corner. This place might have been used to feed the guards that were stationed here, but now was dominated by the copper dragon’s scaly hide, if the dragon minded that several tables were shattered beneath his bulk, he didn’t show it as he peered with interest out one of the slit like windows. Around him were gathered blankets and cushions that were looted from this place, along with what food and refreshment that could be gathered. His tail flicked ever in amusement, like a cat playing with it’s dinner.

She was not alone with this dragon in the hall, there were several faces that she did not know. One of an elven woman in thick leathers and fur, a wild look about her almond eyes. Beads were spread through her long clay like hair, currently fluttering from the raging winds beyond the walls. Upon her lips was the draconic spell that gave life to this storm, the one currently sealing the doom of Merlia’s friends. With this spell weaving elf was a Leonin with a hardened expression on his features, a stark contrast to the fluffiness of his almond mane.

Clad in a pristine breastplate that looked as though it were forged by the dwarven people, the lionman paced through the hall as if the entertainment was lost on him. With a goblet in one hand, filled no doubt with wine, he plucked and admired any bit of loose treasure that might be scattered along the floor of the hall. The air about this three spoke of victory, pride and amusement, all forging a stone that sunk within Merlia’s gut.

“Seems like you picked the right woman for the job.” Quintus, as the leonine was called, said. “Those guardians and her friends hardly put up a fight, they fell right into your trap.”

“It was most amusing, wasn’t it?” Chortled the copper beast, “The real question will come later on whom accepts their station under me.” Within that growl spoke of blood and fire, the fate of those who refused him, “One would hope they are as smart as their dwarven friend.”

Smart? Is that what they thought of her? Seeing the way things were swinging and choosing to go along with it? Merlia grimaced and bit her tongue, already seeing the judgement filled eyes of her friends resting upon her face. From Achaaz to Asterion, each boring stare worse than the rest. When the Lord of Fire and his Leonin pet smiled at her, her spirit sank ever lower.

“You did get lucky with Dreadflame’s choice if I must say so myself dearest.” Quintus replied, approaching the copper beast and stroking a single soft paw along the underside of his jaw. “Merlia was it? You’ll see in time that working for the Lord of fire has it’s perks. Land, people, coin, all these things will come in time as the golden claws take hold of Sethera’s future.” He gave a big smile as the dragon closed it’s eyes and rumbled, “I too went through what you’re experiencing. All the doubt, the guilt, the questions? You’ll come to understand it’s all meaningless.”

“Ah, so I’m supposed to accept that with a wee smile as me friends die before my eyes?” Growled the ranger.

“Yet your other ones are safe within our paws. Count your blessings dear, it could have been all of them sharing the fate of your paladin friend and his dragon.”

“Suppose that be true kitty, but count your blessin that your master be behind ya, else you’d be getting me foot between your legs.”

Lord of Fire laughed as the Leonin puffed up his chest and snarled, fire simmering in his eyes. “You amuse me dwarf, feel free to kick my Umraadi between the legs should he insult you again.”

“Umraadi?” The catman turned, his brow furrowed, “How could you take her side?”

“Come now, you brought it upon yourself Quintus. I expect you to play nice with all my other pets.” The dragon chuckled and nosed at the leonine, “And you rolling around for biting off more than you can chew? That sounds rather hilarious.”

“Touch me dwarf and you’ll be in for a world of hurt.” Quintus eyed her, arms crossed as his master continued to laugh and chortle.

Umraadi? Merlia had to almost do a double take, the only time she’d heard such a thing was from Arcturus to Veledar. The term was draconic, meant my treasure, a way to show endearment. Could it be possible that this pair shared a similar arrangement? Was there a way to use that to her advantage? Her head throbbed as an idea started to take shape. She didn’t have long, with how the winds howled, she wasn’t sure how long her friends could hold out, or if they were still alive.

“So, in this arrangement, all I am is a pet for ya? Some fancy ting to play around with; to show off for yer dragon pals?” Merlia strolled past the elven druid, the thought to take her hostage occurring to her.

“In a matter of speaking.” Mused the copper dragon, shifting his attentions to the raging storm outside, “It will be far better than what awaits the rest of these wretched two leggers, my pets will stand out higher than the rest. While limited, I’m sure you’ll come to enjoy your station. Feel honored that I have taken an interest in you.” A prideful smirk spread across his snout, “I am a most generous Lord.”

“Of course, ya are, wouldn’t think otherwise.” Her heart throbbed in her head, vision starting to blur as she focused on her plan. No, the druid would not be enough, the dragon didn’t care about her. She eyed the laughing Leonin, knowing exactly where to strike. She froze as her hand moved to her pistol, the curse dragging her down. To do this might mean her end. That’s when the impossible happened, the tornado was cast away.

“What is the meaning of this? How could that be?” The Lord of Fire snarled, slamming down a paw and shattering the remains of the table beneath him, “Your spell could be dispelled by that whelp? They’re supposed to be dead!”

“Just a minor inconvenience.” Replied the elf in an emotionless tone, already starting to maneuver her stance into another spell, “I expected something like this could transpire, fear not, we will have another application upon them momentarily.”

“Very well, that’s why I had to have you Tarathiel, always a step ahead; much better than your brother.”

Merlia’s eyes widened, stuck on the red baby within the air, pounding away at his victory. She could only guess what madness that he and Arcturus had managed to achieve to get this outcome. What bonds of friendship and loyalty that remained within her tugged their links, shouting their demands from the mountaintops. With a breath she knew what needed to be done, even if her life was forfeit. Though the pain that struck her was like thousands of blades piercing her flesh, she found the strength to yank her pistol from it’s holster and brandish it straight at Quintus’ head.

“Stop wiggling yer tongue you emotionless harpy, another word and I paint the dragon’s scales with this kitty’s brains.”

Tarathiel froze mid spell.

“You can’t be serious.” Quintus scoffed; eyes locked on the barrel of her weapon. “You realize if I were to die, you and all of your friends would perish.”

She couldn’t turn back now, not with all her friend’s lives resting on her shoulder; possibly the entire outcome of the future. Merlia swallowed down her doubts and gave a pained smirk, even as the dragon snapped to her with a look that could kill and a snarl that could match. “Oh, you’ll find me deadly serious boy, just so happens I never miss a shot either. Might not be my weapon of choice, but ole Merlia’s got ya right where she wants ya. So I’d keep that handsome mouth of yours shut, while mommy and daddy do the talking.” As the dragon growled she blew him a kiss, “Ain’t that right big boy?”

The dragon’s eyes glimmered, a deadly silence resting on the air. His tail flicked, nostrils flared, a plume of heat encompassed them all as black smoke twirled towards the ceiling, “She won’t resist for long Quintus, even now Dreadflame’s curse pumps through her veins, she’ll be dead within minutes.”

“Long enough to pull the trigger and end your pretty kitty. Best do what I say.”

“End the Leonin and your life will be cut ever so short.”

“That assumes I expect to get out of this alive doesn’t it?” She grinned as the dragon’s eyes widened in understanding, “Oh, now yer getting it.”

“And you get what out of this? Do you expect to save your friends? The life of this one Leonin means nothing to me.”

She laughed, deep, possibly her last. “You expect me to swallow that do ya big baby? If yer goin to lie to me, at least make them not so transparent! Don’t give me that, I heard what ya called him, Umraadi means he’s your special wittle kitty.” Oh the hate in his eyes was so sweet, it almost made the pain sinking through her flesh worth it, even as her arm trembled, “Stay right there, don’t have the elf speak and you and your special little man can live to see another day.”

“You’ll be dead after this!” The lord of fire slammed down a paw, his claws digging into the stone with a wretched shriek. “With pain that will feel as though it lasts thousands of life times!”

“And yet, I’ll be dead anyway boy! I get to choose how I go out!” The reply came as blood trickled down her nose, “And even if I do, I get to die knowing I spit in yer eye one last time. So you best be thinking what ya like more, obeying that red dragon of a boss you got, or that kitty you be sweet on.”

She had him now and it brought a smile to her cracked lips. Though this beast thought of itself as better than others, in a class that could not be matched, it found itself dragged down back into the muck like everyone else. So it blustered, snarled, roared as to try and un-nerve her, but Merlia had seen this all before and held her ground.

“Oooo, put a big show on for me! That’s right shake your tail, thrust like ya mean it! I’d give it a three, seen better acts from a possum! Oh, you’re as intimidating as cat! I’ve seen sharper claws upon sea stones! AHAHAHAHAH!”

“Laugh while you can dwarf, your life ticks ever slowly by. Eventually you will be dead, no one will remember you.”

“No one remember me? Bah, now you’re talking out that oversized arse of yers, no one will forget me.” She let him see all her teeth, maintaining her stance as her entire world threatened to spin. “They’ll construct a statue of me, the woman who looked a dragon in the eyes and told him to get mounted.”

“Lord of Fire?” Tarathiel stuttered.

“Not now.” Hissed the dragon, eyes locked square on the little dwarf that defied him. “Tell me dwarf, how does it feel to have poison pulsing through your veins, for your flesh to rebel against you? I cannot fathom what pain awaits you. I can have it end, all you must do is put down the wep- “

“Bah, it’s nothin I can’t handle!” Merlia laughed, “Had worse colds from me brothers mine! Should seen the sniffles I got from those sentient mushrooms, now that was bad. I saw that kitty, no sudden movements, this tickle I got might have me blow your cute little brains out.”

“Lord.” Quintus said flatly, “You can’t let her win, you’ll know what Dreadflame will do to you. I don’t want anything to happen to you, plea- “

“Silence!” Thundered the beast, “I don’t want to hear an idea with you dead. Do I make myself clear?” When he got a silent nod of understanding the dragon returned the gesture with a deep growl, “Good show Merlia, you have taken advantage of my weakness. Now what comes next? Shall we watch you choke on- “

Her back arched as the pain ever increased, leaving her to cough and sputter up blood across the floor. Reflexes surged to life despite the curse, allowing her to recover with a snarl, eyes steeled upon Quintus. “Almost had me didn’t ya, but no, Merlia has some spirit left in her. We’re going to sit here like good little boys and girls for me friends to arrive, I imagine all your snarling and spittin will have alerted them.” She sighed as the pair settled down, heeding her words, “I at least have enough spirit in me bones for that.”

“Know this dwarf, that should you falter, your life will end.” Threatened Lord of Fire.

“Bah, I once had a bitch of a dragon tell me I am to die alone. You might be dour company, and have the dick of a kobold, but your someone none the less.” She coughed, as stars burst into bloom about her vision.

“Lord of Fire!” Tarathiel shouted, only to get Lord of Fire’s jaws snapped at her direction.

“What?” Snarled the dragon.

“The enemy is here.”

Merlia could only sigh in relief as a blur of red scales swooshed past the windows, Veledar’s thunderous roar music to her ears. There were shouts of mercenaries from the courtyard as Arcturus and the pegasai riders made short work of what remained outside. She managed to maintain her strength through it all, shouting for Arcturus when she heard him ascending the steps.

“Bout time ya got your metal skirt wearing arse up here!” She coughed, “Figured I had to do everything meself!”

Veledar entered the hall first, strutting in as if he owned the place. “Sorry about the delay, Arcturus and I had a spot of turbulence, I take it you found the druid?” When his gaze found the copper beast, he adopted a threatening stance, fangs bared.

“When did you take up the life of a common bandit?” Asked Arcturus, a bolt of lightning held in his palm.

“Oh, don’t give me that look.” She roared, “Saved your asses, and kept Copper beauty here from making trouble. Had him bent over and by the balls.”

“That is not what happened.” Lord of fire snarled to the red dragon sizing him up, “And cherish that your dwarf employs such underhanded tactics, else you’d both be dead.”

“And what underhanded tactic did she use?”

“Keep your snout on the kitty.” Merlia groaned, her strength starting to fade, “Heard the copper baby call him an Umraadi, you know what that means.”

“Is that so?” Veledar mused, eying Quintus, who found himself now between two dragons, his ears stitched to his head. “Rest your arm Merlia, for if they make any move, my claws shall taste this cat’s flesh.”

“I see now where she gets it from.” Hissed Lord of flame as Quintus trembled.

Arcturus approached with a narrow brow, unwilling to lower his weapon, “I don’t approve of course.”

“Oh stow it Arcturus, sometimes ya need to get your hands dirty.” Coughed Merlia, she was thankful the human pressed it no further, knowing better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Lord of Fire shifted in place, slow and deliberate as to not set off his captors. “So, what now awaits us?” He growled, “Are we to die? Or only myself? Are we to suddenly start singing songs? Or perhaps my fate is to be tamed like you, traitor who finds himself with our kinds greatest enemy- “

Arcturus cleared his throat, drawing a fierce stare, one that could kill. “That’s up to you dragon. Be still and you won’t be harmed. As for my Umraadi, I’ll leave you in his tender care should you insinuate I have tamed him.”

“You think I don’t know what will come after?” The Lord of fire growled, “I’ll be butchered for daring to resist our deaths. My quintus hung or worse. Take heart that your dwarven assassin holds his life in her hands, otherwise you’d feel my wrath.”

Merlia grinned as the druid was subdued, brought low by a trio of stunning shots of energy crossbows cough. But that’s when her strength could not hold her any longer. Her head spiraled as though she were before a cliff, waiting to drop. She desperately tried to hold on but failed. Blood started to leak down her face as she collapsed backwards to the stone. Thankfully her head did not strike the ground, as Arcturus raced to her and caught her.

“Merlia!” The human called to her, his voice fraught with fear.

Seeing his moment before him, Lord of flame seized upon it. He snatched Quintus up in his jaws, reciting draconic between his fangs. With a swish of his tail both he and the leonine faded away to nothing more than turquoise fog, escaping out the window and snaking down the rockface. Veledar tried to snap at them but failed, the pair slipping through his fangs. Arcturus would have made an attempt, but his attentions were on the grim sight in his arms.

Merlia was quivering now, her flesh as cold as a winter’s day. Fair skin had started to blacken and wither as if a rot had sunk in it’s putrid teeth. Her attempts to grab hold of the man’s arms were feeble, her breaths coming in ragged coughs. More blood came across her chest, draining color from Arcturus’ face.

“By the gods what happened to you?” He asked, his hands already willing healing magic to them.

“Now isn’t that a funny story.” The dwarf choked through her blood to say, her chest like needles had crawled through her lungs. Blackness encroached on every labored breath; it wouldn’t be long now. She smiled, as Arcturus, bless him, was trying to save her. She could feel his magic try to undo the dragon’s wicked curse, trying to beat back the unrelenting tide, but it was no use. His efforts were devoured, undone, no sooner had he started then she found herself worse than when he began.

“One of which we shall share and laugh about! Now Merlia, stay with me.” He cursed under his breath, unwilling to give up the fight. When his lay on hands was depleted, he started whispering spells to come to her aid.

“Come now lad, you did your best. No sense wasting your time now.” She grabbed hold his wrist with what strength she had, seeing the despair now devouring his eyes. “There be nothing you can do now, I be cursed.”

“He cursed you? Veledar, you’re better at this, quickly – “

“Not the copper beast.”

“Then who?”

She wheezed, the last flicker of his control trying to silence her, but when had that ever worked? She was dying now, and like hell would she not let her friends know why. “Dreadflame. The bastard made me help him every step of the way; I had no choice, he would have killed Krotos.”

There was a moment of silence as what she said passed through the man’s ears. “Merlia, you can’t be- “

“I be serious boy, don’t make me say it again!” She slammed her fist against his chest, unwilling to look the knight in the eye; nor his dragon when the beast turned to her with a savage snarl.

“You sold us out for the life of one gryphon?” Asked Veledar. “Do you know how many have died?”

There it was, what she’d been dreading, the truth revealed to them both. She didn’t let them rest, couldn’t let that happen, she had not the time to waste. Even as venom rested upon their faces she pressed onward, “Hate me if you want, but now isn’t the time.”

“How much does he know?”

“Everything…I told the bastard everything.”

The dragon and rider shared a worried look, all their plotting and scheming undone.

“Are we flying into a trap?” Asked Veledar with a growl, gesturing to the sea, “Or is the Mermaid another of his schemes?”

“He expected ya to die.” She coughed, clutching tight at Arcturus’ arms. Her vision was almost gone now, his face nothing more than a misshapen form.

“Then where is he?”

“At the shard, expected to fish the orb from the sea.” As silence came upon her fractured words, she spasmed within the kind paladin’s grip. Her body wracked with pain, blinding, all encompassing, part of her wished that she’d have died right there and then. Yet as she sagged, limp and drained, she still yet lived. “Arcturus…Veledar…I need ya to know I didn’t want to…I just wanted to save dear Krotos.” She whimpered, tears forming in her eyes, “He deserves better than me.”

“It’s alright.” Arcturus sighed, brushing the hair from her eyes, “We had already considered this night a loss, this changes little else.”

A thunder clap resounded from the sky as lightning pierced it like a lance. Winds began to howl, the waves started to churn. Without mercy they crashed against the shore and ship alike, growing with every pound. A sound upon the wind came, powerful and chilling, it was Fremra, like a voice of the gods themselves.

“Merlia…You’re forgiven.”

Such brightness in the darkness, even when she faced down her mortality. The weakened dwarf grinned from ear to ear, even as her flesh upon her face withered. “Never been glader you not be a dwarf.”

“If I did have a book of grudges it would go in it.” Veledar huffed.

Arcturus held his head, “Now I know it’s serious, you’re not harping on me for trusting a known traitor at her word.”

“Oh, don’t get me started.” Merlia wheezed, trying to stir, but found her strength fading. She couldn’t so much as lift a finger, “Dragon!” Her voice cracked, “Dragon!”

Though he tried to maintain an air of pride, Veledar pressed his nose to her trembling, blood slick fingers. His warmth beat back the cold for the slightest of moments as blackness consumed her vision. There she was, alone in the dark, with only the touch of her friends to remind her that she was still alive.

“You can’t go yet Merlia, you’re supposed to turn my haunches into a pin cushion.” Growled the dragon, but it lacked the same conviction.

“Nonsense. I can go as I please. Arcturus, it’s your job to pierce that rump.”

“Aye.” The human nodded.

“And tell my brother and sister I tried to get home. You’ll find them in a small town of Rockberg in the foggy mountains.” She groaned as the dragon whined, “Oh, don’t you go crying on me now. Don’t be turning into a blubberin baby over me.”

“Where is the traitor?” Asterion burst into the room, his eyes narrowed, weapon drawn and ready. Nostrils flared as he took sight of her, “Good.”

“Asterion, thank the gods!” Arcturus said, grasping Merlia tight, “Quick, my healing proved unable to stop this curse, we need Korde’s might right here and now to save her.”

The cleric’s tail flicked, his demeanor did not soften, “No.”

“What the hells do you mean no?”

“She’s a traitor and deserves such a death.”

“Asterion, we have no time for this game of yours, get over here and heal her this instant.” The paladin growled, “You gave your healing to us, now I have need of it.”

Veledar pressed down a paw, nostrils flaring as smoke curled up from them as blackened snakes, “And I suggest you do as he says. I will not be as understanding as him.”

“I have faced down one dragon before, you think you scare me?” Countered Asterion, unyielding as he crossed his arms.

“Doesn’t she deserve a chance of redemption?” Arcturus’ voice came like a robin’s song, “Just as you got for the village? Some might have said you deserved a unworthy death, to be left to rot on the side of some path. We took you in, gave you that chance, I won’t threaten you Asterion…All I ask is that you give Merlia the same chance that you had; help us save her.”

For a moment Asterion said nothing, the words weighing heavily on his shoulders. Eyes like that of the sharpest of blades tried to maintain their edge, only to soften before such a plea. When they traveled one more to the weakened, pitiful state that Merlia found herself in, his resistance crumbled to dust. “Very well.” With a snort he sprung to the paladin’s side, already starting to chant a spell.

“Oh, bless his heart.” Merlia chuckled, “I think he has a crush on me.”

“Save your breath traitor.” Asterion growled, pressing a finger to her head, “You at least deserve to get a chance of a warrior’s death, not to be felled by some foul curse.”

Above them the storm grew, clouds rolling like boulders through the sky. The waves below had grown to such size they threatened to capsize entire vessels, drag the diminutive ships and their crew to the bottom of the watery depths. Those caught within such a tempest screamed and begged to the gods but it was no use, their pleas were drowned out by the howling of the winds.

Rain pelted stone and wood like arrows, lightning lit up the heavens with it’s divine fury. There was to be no mercy this night, not after what Struport had endured. Guided by Fremra’s draconic snarl, the sea grabbed hold of every vessel out within the inky black. It yanked them down, overturned their ships, one by one each falling prey to her demand.

It was like a light had been shined upon her, the curse peeled back so that she could see. Breaths came easy, not bogged down by blood. Pain dulled and was robbed of her; flesh had begun to return to its fair nature. It might not have saved her entirety, but it would hold the curse at bay for now.

“Oh, my beard covered hero, I could kiss ya!”

** **** ** ** ** **

Dreadflame strut through the halls of Fremra’s keep with relative ease, the ability to shapeshift and draw information from his victims a most invaluable tool. He clothed himself in the guise of a ruby guardian, barking orders to the lesser knights that were honor bound to obey him. Nothing out of the ordinary did he ask of them, nothing that might draw suspicion upon his brow. Thanks to his expertise he’d learned that the way to the shard was a closely guarded secret. Though he’d already visited where it was held, it was nothing more than a wall of stone.

He'd paced and pondered on why it had denied him, spat in his face despite his spells. It was a most perplexing puzzle, his frustrations taken out on the team of guardians that had found him. Bloodied, broken, slain, they’d not got out an alarm to alert the others of his presence. To his amusement, one of them had the information he sought, his father must have been with him this day. Fremra, the ruler of this keep, the dragoness traitor, only she knew the secret on what kept the shard safe from his claws. It would yield to him like all the rest.

Now he found himself in the courtyard, the sound of desperation upon the wind. Guardians young and old preparing for the shimmering field that protected them to fail. How their fear radiated in his chest, tasted ever sweet, it was an intoxicating experience to sit here and simmer in it’s pure nature. With a predatory growl he found the last bit of hope that the mortals had, the young teal dragon trying to maintain the barrier.

Jandar, as they had called him, was reared up with his paws performing the required movements. Pain was clear as day upon his scales, blackened lines encompassing almost every inch of him. His words were starting to slow and dull, his energy all used up, any more and he might kill himself. Clerics and other mortals were at his side, offering what spells they could, pitiful attempts to beat back the tide that gripped him.

Dreadflame approached ever slow, keeping his distance when it was time to strike. True the teal son of Fremra might have put up a fight, but not after all of this. Besides the male whelp was not his intended target, that terrible honor befell the mother that had been such a thorn in his side.

Some might have called her beautiful, with how her scales shimmered in the rain. Her frills fluttered in and out as she spoke the draconic words with such power, able to shape and bend the weather to her will. Her eyes crackled and glowed with tremendous light as she no doubt rained down destruction upon the mercenary fleet of his. She was better than this, to be chained and limited by so many mortals around her. Did she not know she was divine?

Dreadflame growled to himself at such wasted potential, soaking in the elaborate dance that was her spell. Every word was like poison to his ears, warmed his blood, building the tempest that was within him. Dragons like her were what broke his father long ago, she’d have to be made an example of. Shame, for truly she was a pretty thing, she would have looked good on his paw.

With a flair of the dramatics he stood forth, casting off his human veil with a spread of his arms. From his weakened bag of flesh came bones of diamonds, scales like that of steel. Great fangs took shape from his crimson maw, already ravenous for the taste of blood. He let forth a terrible snarl as he slammed down a tremendous paw, cracking the very stone beneath him. Lavender smoke filled the keep, blinded those without magical sight, he could taste the raising fear in which he brought.

He didn’t let them have a moment to spare as he pounced with all his strength onto the smaller male. Claws dug into the lesser armored flesh, painting the ground a bright crimson as he slammed Jandar beneath him. He might have offered some resistance if not for the spell he’d been concentrating on, but as it was, he was a mouse before a lion.

“Jandar!” Fremra’s startled roar filled the keep as the dragoness stopped her spell, helpless as the crimson dragon grabbed hold her son’s neck and clamped down.

Metallic was the taste on Dreadflame’s tongue as he tossed aside Jandar like refuse, unphased by the gurgling, choking noises that were coming from the teal’s throat. He let forth his aura of fear radiate through the air, infect every pore of those that gazed upon his glorious form. Into them a wave of terror took hold, bringing to life their greatest fears. He was given no time to savior such delights as a mother’s fury was great and Fremra was no exception.

The dragoness snapped at him with a fury he’d not seen in some time, her powerful jaws seeming to tremble the air itself. Speed was her ally, allowing the slippery female to slip under Dreadflame’s paws and slash him with claws sharper than human’s steel. It forced the male back with a lingering hiss, granting Fremra the reprieve to loom over her wounded son’s body, her eyes as sharp as her claws.

“Such emotion, such power, I can see why the mortals hang off your every word.” He spoke in a commanding tone, as blood trickled down his snout. “You should feel honored to be in my presence young one, for I am a beast of legend. Submit to me and I might let you live.”

Lavender pools that he was told contained the playful spirit of her people now held no such thing. They burned with an intensity so great, that the air itself threatened to be set ablaze. The way that Fremra now stood, muscles tensed, her tail lashing, she might as well have been Bahamut herself.

“You will die for that.” She snarled, pacing her way around the courtyard, watching his every move.

“I’m astonished that you teals even have the stomach for combat with your claws.” He huffed in amusement with a confident grin, frills fluttering as the sound of steel upon steel caried it’s way to his ears. The defenders were having at one another just as they’d done before, “You best hurry and do your best to end me my dear, for it sounds like your mortal friends don’t have much longer.”

It was now her turn to feel his fury, to be broken by the emperor’s will made manifest. Dreadflame set upon her like a ravenous dog, hungry for her blood. They clashed several times across the courtyard, heavy paws crashing into one another, drawing rivers of crimson down both their scales. He was the stronger of the two that much was certain as she never lingered for long, always slipping away before he could snatch her neck with his jaws and bring about the battle’s end.

“I didn’t think it would be this easy.” Teased the female as she leaped upon the keep’s ramparts, wings spread wide.  “Suppose you’re a poor excuse for the emperor’s spawn.”

Him, poor? He laughed at such an accusation. “If I’m mistaken, it is you that is on the back paw.” He followed with a growl, his claws cleaving through the stone as he landed upon them. There he had her on the ropes, doing nothing but avoiding his savage strikes; everyone he drew closer and closer to slicing apart her pretty neck. When his blood was close to boiling he lashed his tail and leaped upon her, his claws bared and ready. He roared his victory, already looking forward to the sound of her breaking bones beneath his bulk.

Sharpened claws glided right through teal scales as though they were not there, Fremra’s form dissipating before Dreadflame could even snarl in response. His momentum carried him forward and onward, straight towards the ground. The dragon smashed into the central tree, shattering both stone and wood upon his descent. Dull pain spread through him, but it paled in comparison to the wound against his pride. She’d tricked him.

With a breath a forge had been lit beneath him, terrible and hot within his chest. He rose with murderous intent, black smoke curling from his flared nostrils. As he scanned the courtyard, sudden explosions of pain lanced through him. His haunches, chest, forepaws, and snout. Each of them were struck as if by the sharpest of blades, crimson scales parted, flesh gave way, the powerful beast was sent tumbling backwards with a guttural snarl.

Fremra was across the courtyard, her wings spread wide as lightning crashed behind her. Tendrils of water had grown from her back and now rested upon the air, casually flicking, awaiting the dragoness’ demand. She was standing proud a smirk upon her snout as cerulean light sparked off her watery weapons.

“Quite impressive.” He wiped the wound upon his snout, it caused him to wince, it was deeper than he would have thought. “I thought you’d want to save the life of your –“ His eyes widened, the younger male was gone, while he’d tussled with the phantom image, she’d spirited him away!

She was upon him with a snarl, her watery whips cutting through the air with murderous intent. They clashed, spilling each other’s blood as they continued their deadly dance. His blows were savage, with enough force to shatter stone and steel but they could never quite connect. As soon as he’d tasted her blood she’d blink away or fade to mist, only to reappear and force him to the ground in a flurry of sharpened fangs and claws.

“No so fast my dear!” He roared on one such occasion, catching the flick of her tail that gave it away. He counted her spell and set upon her, finally sinking his claws deep through her flank. Victory on his lips he carried through, dragging the female to the ground and slamming her to the stone.

She slipped from him like an eel, but the damage had been done, when they next rounded one another, there was a visible limp within her gait. He snapped his jaws with a throaty chuckle, getting nothing but a silent, hardened stare returned to him.

“Where is all the confidence, the jokes? I was told that you had a most playful nature.” He dragged his claws upon the stone, sparks flickering in their wake. “See what your adoration for mortals has done to you? Left you weak and pathetic.”

“Weak? I’m matching paws with a dragon of legend.” She smirked, blood dribbling down her teeth, “One that I might add is larger than I. Perhaps you’re not as strong as you think.”

“And yet you are the one limping, ever slowly losing the chase. You will eventually tire and die; the orb and the shard will be mine. Last chance, reveal to me how to get to the shard, and your life; albeit pathetic will be spared.”

“No matter how much the wind blows, the mountain will not bow to it.”

“So be it.” He roared, tearing up the stone and launching himself at her. She swept a paw at him, bringing a cloud of sharpened stones no larger than a human’s hand. They pelted his scales, pierced flesh, drew blood and tore through his wing membranes. Though it stung his blows tasted blood, tearing thick lines across her withers and down her chest. This time strength had left her, slipperiness denied her, he followed through and slammed his bulk down upon her until he heard several of her bones crack.

“The orb…is gone.” She snarled, thrashing, and clawing against his scales. Nothing but glancing blows, he had her trapped. Her struggles ceased when he pressed further down with a savage snarl, driving all the air from her lungs.

“Is that so?” He grinned, soaking in the absolute cracking of her demeanor, watching as dread sank within those once confident lavender pools. “Arcturus and his dragon are at the bottom of the ocean as we speak. You have FAILED, just as Bahamut failed all those millennia ago. Just like her, you and your ilk are weak and pathetic, undeserving of the gifts that you were given.

“Then who stopped the druid?” Her voice was small, barely a whisper. When Dreadflame froze she gave an amused coo, “We both know who did it, don’t we.”

“Its of no concern. Arcturus and his dragon might run, we will catch upon them at a future day.”

“Do my ears deceive me, or is that a hint of fear?”

“I don’t fear that man!” He dug his claws through her chest, holding her firm as she screamed and struggled. “I am inevitable, my father’s will made manifest. Now no more games, tricks or illusions, you will give me the information I seek.”

“Are…you going to talk me to death?”

Nostrils flared, curse this dragoness. Even while broken, bleeding and panting, her spirit had not been broken. “Poor choice of final words, but then again, it’s hardly the worst decision you’ve made today.” He rose a paw and trapped her snout, his claws digging into her flesh. With her secured he lashes his tail, speaking the deep, draconic words of power. Air around him grew hot, his eyes brightened to that of twin suns, there would be no more denying him, the information would be his. Unfortunately, other minds had far different plans in store.

Ice suddenly exploded across his scales, all encompassing of his snout and biting as the arctic wind. Pain lanced through him as spears of the deepest cold tasted his blood. He was sent reeling, mind spinning on just where this magical attack had emerged. As he stumbled back, one such spear of ice hurtled straight into his eye. This was all Fremra needed to launch her last attack.

She slammed into him with the strength of giants, toppling the half blinded dragon to the ground. Upon her snarl, roots broke through stone like wriggling worms, wrapping tight around Dreadflame’s limbs and pulling tight. The female clambered up onto his chest, claws sinking through her scales as magic thrummed with power all over her scales.

He tried to struggle, the stone rubbed his scales as he fought to free himself from his restraints. It was of no use, though they creaked, they held him far too well. He was unable to stop her as she rested all her weight upon his neck.

From her words came a whining sound, the space between them growing cold. Snow had begun to melt and twist into tiny tendrils, spiral upwards to her paws. His scales cracked and buckled, every bit of him lightning up in flashes of red hot pain. He shook and trembled as his restraints held him firm. From his  cuts and slices to the tiniest sliver came crimson pillars of his blood; it twisted upon the air like terrible snakes, seeking out her outstretched paw. His body screamed out as he shook, eyes wide, she was going to drain all the liquid out of him and leave him nothing but a shriveled husk!

It could not end this way, not by this female’s terrible hiss. The voice of his father broke through the blinding pain, reminding him of his weakness. That it was just as he’d always suspected, Dreadflame was the weakest of the four. Weak, pathetic, not worthy of the powers that he was given. No, he would not go so quietly from this night. With the last of his strength Dreadflame tugged upon his bindings, snapping them to the defiance of his thunderous roar. He grabbed hold of Fremra and locked his grip, making sure there was no escape as he tilted and let surge his fireglands. She struggled and tried to shift, but he held her firm. With grim delight he opened his paw and painted her with his red-orange death, burning her beautiful scales and orange membranes to nothing more than blackened charred remains.

Her grip weakened, strength departing her as Fremra took the full brunt of his fury. When she collapsed, all the fight had been spirited away from her form. She was left frozen, wheezing, the rise and fall of her chest weak. When Dreadflame clambered to all fours and loomed over her, there wasn’t so much as a steeled glance in his direction.

“Just as I said it would be.” He growled, taking hold of her blackened snout with a paw. In her he saw the hopelessness, the despair, he ate it all like a treasured meal. With a growl in his throat, he let his magic flow, peering through her mind as easily as a book. So many memories tried to distract him but he paid them no mind, sifting through the haze until he found what he sought. He pulled back laughing. “That was all that was stopping me?” The great dragon paced away in disbelief, “All it required was someone unwilling to use the shard?”

Fremra only offered a weakened wheeze, clearly focused on staying alive.

He shook his head at such the simplicity of it all, yet ingenious all the same. As the defenders shouted in terror at what they had just done, and now faced with the encroaching enemy, Dreadflame was brought back to the matter of his now pain-stricken eye. In all the excitement he’d forgotten. He rose from Fremra’s broken form, nostrils sifting through the smell of blood, stone and oil. Mages were an easy thing to focus upon, their reagents often pungent and like a beacon. This one was no different.

“Come out come out my little mage.” Dreadflame growled, padding around the chaos stricken keep, spying a sliver of movement by one of the stone pillars, it’s surface littered with wear. “Wise of you to try and hide, I am a most imposing beast. Reveal yourself and you might still live, know that the pillar in which you shield yourself will prove no defense against my flames.”

Movement caught his eye, not that pillar but another one. A human boy wrapped in dark blue robes and sprinting for the keep’s inner door. His spell book held tight, black hair fluttering in panic, it was almost adorable with the courage that he possessed. It would all be useless.

In the blink of an eye, he pounced in front of the keep’s inner door, cutting off the boy’s retreat. At the boy’s terrified shriek, he did chuckle, terrible and deep within his throat. With a confident swagger he advanced upon his trembling form with heavy paws. He grabbed the boy by the neck of his robes with his jaws and settled upon his haunches, shifting him to his paws. There he held the whimpering mage before his snout, setting upon him with a murderous eye, “I should eat you for what you’ve done to my eye.”

Axton, as he knew the boy to be called, tried to push himself back against the dragon’s paw, clinging to one scaley digit as Dreadflame opened his maw and showed off his drooling tongue.

“I could think of no greater honor than becoming part of me.”

“No, anything but that!” Axton shrieked, dangling as the dragon rose him above an open snout, waiting for him to let go. “Please!”

Dreadflame smirked as he brought his snout higher, his ploy having worked. “Then if you wish to avoid that fate, you will do everything that I ask of you. Is that clear human?” There was hesitation on the boy’s face as he looked back to Fremra’s broken form, he brought him back to focus with a snap of his jaws, “Do I make myself clear boy?”

“Yes! Yes dragon!”

“Excellent.” The praise hissed upon the winds as the defenders shouted out that twin golden dragons were setting upon them, fear ever present in their voices. “And would you normally want to use the shard of Bahamut by chance?”

“Never.”

He plucked the boy up between his jaws and sauntered off with a pleased, growly rumble. Fremra broken, the keep about to fall, half the guardians slain by their own hands, he could not have asked for a better victory. With a swishing tail he slammed open the keep’s inner halls and prepared himself for another one. Who knows, he was in such a good mood, he might even keep this whimpering human as his pet.

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