Sage Rokirith warred against the human army alone. The gray dragon, consumed in blackfire, appeared as a wraith. The dark fire plumed beneath his wings and trailed after the tip of his tail like smoke. When he soared over the humans' heads, blackfire rained down on them, engulfing all those below his flight path.
The surviving human forces failed to mount any serious counterattack as they were caught in disarray. The rash, brown dragoness roared and leaped to pursue their assailant on her own. A shrill cry from the Dragon Rider clipped her flight short before the chase could even begin. "Stay down!"
The brown dragoness landed behind the Dragon Slayer—a man too dangerous for dragons to fly in his presence. During Sage Rokirith's brief dip into the chasm, the gravity mage had time to gulp down a tincture. New mana surged through his system, allowing him to create a small gravity orb at the midpoint between him and his wife. The Dragon Slayer propelled himself forward and thrust the Dragon Rider back to her pet. "Stay put!" the prince ordered as he rushed after the rogue dragon.
Sage Rokirith's battle-hardened scales gave him the experience needed for a fighting chance. Beyond the line of human forces, his claws touched down gingerly on three legs. One foreleg he kept tucked close to his ridged chestplate. Sage Rokirith knew the ideal moment to land, just before a massive gravity orb caused his talons to grip into the dirt for purchase. The tips of his claws raked across the clay-riddled earth. The backward pull was so strong that it required him to leverage all the might of his legs to hold his ground.
Crossbow bolts snapped through the air and cracked Sage Rokirith's scales. The metallic tips pierced into flesh. Despite blood seeping from the wound, the accompanying pain did not so much as bring a yelp to his jaws. The moment that the Dragon Slayer's gravity magic expired, Sage Rokirith lifted his claws into a three-legged bolt to escape.
The Dragon Slayer led a group of fleet-footed mages and horse-mounted knights in pursuit. Aside from those who wielded ranged weapons, most of the human troops could do nothing to join the dragon hunt.
Fia glanced back up the ridge at the humans' large caravan of equipment. We're lucky they haven't wheeled out any anti-dragon ballistae like they had in the city. Why'd they bring so many supplies for so few people?
These transient thoughts from Fia brought both Diwa and Viliant to look back, fearing other human contraptions. While neither of them saw any other dangerous, ranged weaponry, the sight caused the dragons' cold blood to run even colder.
The canyon's lip appeared to waver as a hurrying, scurrying movement spurred across a wide berth. Like beetles swarming a carcass, freshly hatched monsters climbed out of the chasm in an endless march. Thousands of reptilian soldiers formed a new army for their creators.
Drakans, Diwa gasped, unable to take her eyes off the little abominations. That's where they come from. That's what happened to all the dragon eggs!
The corrupted reptiles echoed the potential dragon that they should have become. Their brown scales, curved horns, leathery wings, and swishing tail all exemplified their draconic qualities. However, they also in some ways resembled their masters. About the size of humans, the drakans rose onto their hind legs like a bipedal animal. The horde of drakans surged after Sage Rokirith, their wings pounding to help them run faster—even faster than the dragon himself.
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Sage Rokirith! Fia wanted to cry out to him, but she was powerless to do anything but watch his last stand against the humans.
If he survives, Diwa said grimly, we'll see him again.
The dragonets fled the scene without looking back at the sage anymore. They put more distance between themselves and the hostile army. Meanwhile, the drakans in the lead closed on Sage Rokirith.
The dragon sage belted out a stream of blackfire. His flamethrower toppled over the magicless drakans who had no resistance to the chilling burns of that element. Now with some space between himself and his pursuers, Sage Rokirith tried to run again. He did not make it far until more drakans took the place of the fallen. Each time that he paused to delay the drakans, the human mages—and most notably the Dragon Slayer—gained on him.
However, if he did not cut down their numbers then the drakans threatened his tail. One latched onto it, then another. Without stopping, Sage Rokirith lashed out with a wild convulsion. Bursts of blackfire erupted from beneath his scales. The drakan bodies flung into the air and even more were sliced at the tip of his bladed tail. Sage Rokirith shook himself off in a flurry of sparks.
These same tactics would not work. Sage Rokirith would lose the battle, overwhelmed by the enemies' sheer numbers. His only hope to survive the altercation was to flee, so he must take flight—now or never. Sage Rokirith pulsed his wings to match his rapid, thudding heartbeat. The gray dragon tried to fly as high and far away as possible. If he did not put enough distance between himself and the Dragon Slayer, his hopes would come crashing down.
As the man reached the limit that his magic could help him run, the Dragon Slayer cast a final spell worth his remaining mana. A grandiose sphere shimmered as it moved through the open space. Some unlucky drakans floated into the air as it passed overhead. Their ragged wings lifted upward despite being unsuited for flight.
The massive gravity orb destabilized as it neared the end of its life. A dozen yards behind Sage Rokirith, the gravity bomb imploded inward on itself. The suction channeled the airborne drakans and pulverized their bodies into a bloody stew. Despite his distance from the orb, Sage Rokirith did not wholly escape this effect.
The tip of his heavy, cleaver tail ripped off. Blood spurted from the ragged stump. Without the proper balance of an intact tail, Sage Rokirith wobbled in his leaden flight. He veered to the side; the sudden blood loss made him light-headed. If not addressed, an injury this severe would cause him to drop from the air and pass out within minutes. Luckily, his element could help stem the wound. A flash of blackfire licked across his own flesh, unprotected by scales. A cold burn seared the remainder of his tail, constricting the vessels to ebb the flow of blood. Even this only served to buy him more time.
Sage Rokirith swung his head back. The humans marshaled their new, disorderly army of drakans into lines. A small troop remained in pursuit of him, but no notable members joined that ensemble. No Dragon Slayer. No Dragon Rider.
With a sigh of relief, Sage Rokirith deemed it safe to reunite with Diwa and the dragonets. He would need her healing powers to last more than an hour. The green dragoness was easy to spot with the little, pink one on her back. His black scales like a shadow, Viliant loped beside Diwa. Before he braced himself to land, Sage Rokirith looked down to his front claws where he clutched a brown dragon egg dear to his chest.