Dragon Battle by ~nJoo on deviantART | Dragon illustration, Fantasy dragon, Dragon fight [https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cb/a2/5f/cba25ff755533f11045a6c42f29c20bb.jpg]
The vibrating scales in her throat sparked, igniting the wave of charged air in a single white bolt. It sizzled the air, cutting through the plume of flames, and struck the shard on Marrak’s head.
Marrak roared. And the shard cracked.
Boom!
The explosion threw him backwards and Syra crouched low against its shockwave.
Yes! It hit! But, is he down? She strained her eyes through the smoke and rain to see a lump crumpled on the ground, dark and unmoving. And as she huffed back her breath, she smelled blood. Is he…did that actually do it? She couldn’t tell if he was breathing, but the light between his scales was gone.
Oh, thank goodness, she let herself fall to the ground to breathe her strength back. But, what was that? She licked at the numbness in her mouth.
“You finally did it.” Petra hushed to her with a weak grin.
Warmth filled Syra’s chest as the realization set in, but the sight of Cassius’ limp body chilled it.
Shit, that’s right!
Syra scurried to Petra’s side to attend to her throat, “Just hold on. I think I can restring most if it, but it’ll take some ti—”
“He doesn’t have time!” Petra rasped and shoved her away, “You have to do it. Now. You have to—”
The ratcheting and spring of a dragonlance jerked their attention to the guardtower. They watched the arrow fly towards the ground—towards the black lump. And then they watched it halt and sputter sparks as a barrier rose from Marrak’s collapsed form.
“No,” Syra squeaked, “I thought he was…I thought I—”
Marrak’s body heaved upward, and steam rose as light returned to his scales. His movements were slow and heavy, and he shook his head as if waking from hibernation.
You’re kidding me! Syra gawked as he stumbled to his feet. That blow only knocked him out? But how?
Marrak’s hand pawed at his forehead. But when his claw met the gaping wound above his eye, he flinched. A low growl filled his throat and he turned gleaming eyes back at Syra. Above them, four shards also glared at her.
“Petra,” Syra whispered down at her, “you have to tend to Cassius.”
“But I can’t—”
“You have to try. It doesn’t have to be perfect—just keep him alive until I get back.”
“If you get back.”
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
Syra nuzzled her snout against Petra’s cheek, “If not, then ask Vesna when she gets here. She’s bound to know something.”
“No, you can’t! If he survived that, then there’s no way you can—”
“But I have to.” Syra smirked down at her, “That’s what leaders do, right?”
For the first time, Syra saw the gleam of admiration in her sister’s eyes. She soaked it in, letting a weight lift from her chest as one of her boxes released itself.
This is fine.
“Now, go.” She nudged Petra towards Cassius before locking her gaze on Marrak. “I can at least hold him off.”
She stalked forward, head low, frill raised and quivering a warning. Her scaly lips drew back as a loud hiss escaped bared fangs. But Marrak only stood taller, stepping forward with a dipped head and flared wings. The spiny ridge down his back stood on end, and his neck vents fumed like an angry teapot. Even the fleshy bits by his jaw spines swelled red.
He’s actually taking me seriously, now. Guess that means I’ll have to be even more careful. She dug her claws into the dirt and charged her chest again, letting it build at the bottom of her throat. But at least I know it’s possible. If I keep striking at his head, even if the shards don’t shatter, I can at least blast them off of him.
Syra’s scales hummed and Marrak filled his chest. The air around them buzzed and sizzled. There truly were no words this time—only the lashing of Marrak’s tail gave the order: Come.
Syra charged and dashed to the side, drawing his jaws away from the twins. She ran along Marrak’s flank, staying out of range. I can’t use my barrier when attacking, so I’ll have to keep my distance. I think my bolts can reach farther than his flames, but…she halted and took aim at Marrak’s face, can it even penetrate his barrier?
Opening her throat, she sang forth a lightning bolt that cut the rain and struck his barrier dead center.
The red dome wavered as the bolt sparked and threatened to bore a hole straight through. Yes! Almost there. Syra clenched her core and amped up the power.
But then Marrak widened his stance, and the dome shifted—it thickened and stabilized as the back-half merged forward. And Syra’s bolt sputtered and thinned.
Damn it. I really thought it would—
There was a click and Marrak’s barrier wavered as an arrow flew from the guardtower and embedded itself into his exposed thigh.
Cheering erupted from the tower as Syra's bolt fizzled out.
They actually got him!
Marrak's barrier faded, but he remained standing. His lip twitched—more from annoyance than pain—and his neck vents sealed shut. His hide radiated and steam clouded around him. Then, he reached back and plucked the arrow from his side. He hurled it at Syra, and it skittered across the ground to her feet, lying there like a wilting flower. The arrowhead dribbled over in its molten state, and even its austrum tip was tarnish black.
Shit, did it even break the skin? There was indeed blood on the shaft, but it was black and crumbling, baked on from the raging heat. But the poison…it has to be affecting him, right? She studied him from across the field, but he showed no signs of wavering. Surely some made it inside, she consoled herself despite knowing that such heat would disrupt its effectiveness.
Marrak flared his vents and the dragonlance cranked again. But Marrak turned his jaws on it and leapt into the air, bringing a full aerial sweep crashing over the tower.
Now!
Syra bolted through the air towards Marrak, icy claws extended. But he reared on her, and her barrier came too late.
The fiery current washed over her and this time, she did scream. Images of the burning forest flashed in her mind as her own scales burned her skin. She dove, squinting through blurred vision, and caught herself just as she smelled the mud below. She tumbled and slid, writhing in the mud like a branded boar to cool her melting scales.
Fuck, it hurts!
She grit her teeth against the pain and craned her head to watch Marrak soar off over the wall.