The lightning cracked, tearing branches of power through the clouds, outlining the silhouette of the descending beast.
It had been two long days of standing in the rain, just waiting for their enemy to arrive. Murphy stood shivering in the downpour, his cloak discarded in the mud next to him. It was heavy to the point that it limited his movement, and kept him just as cold and wet as he was without it. He held Uundah in the staff form, and watched as the wyvern swooped the town. It was studying everything carefully on each pass, showing an intelligence he only now believed was completely real. The beats of its wings were mighty enough to push the rain away with every flap. That, and the speed at which it flew, caused a trail to follow behind it, giving the impression that even the air knew to move out of this things way.
When it was done, it circled back towards the meeting area. Serril, May and the Kir, stood in the open at the top of a wide and flat hill. The wind rolled through the valley as it came in to land, pushing the nearby trees near to their breaking points. Serril held the Kir firm, to keep him from blowing backwards. A few seconds later, the gusts started to hit Murphy, still strong enough to make the rain sting his face.
The ground shook when it landed, and Murphy worried if his traps would be okay.
For a short time that felt like an eternity, the monster and the party stood in stoic silence. Serril shouted something over the rain, but Murphy was too far to hear. The beast seemed to laugh at whatever he said, sending a deep rumble through the hills. It stood tall, and he felt its power wash over him. His senses felt deafened in every way, he barely noticed the signal when Serril shouted in his mind.
"Now Eseyfirr!" The Demai's voice penetrated his daze, and he gritted his teeth. It took a moment longer than he was comfortable with to regain control of himself, but once he did, he wasted no more time.
He dropped to one knee and placed a chaotic crystal against a rune. He empowered it, and the energy shot along a wire to a runic transformer twenty feet away. A chain reaction began, causing small explosions to pock the hillsides in a horrendously inefficient transference of Daions. It was nearly instantaneous, and within two seconds the traps were set off. The village flashed a bright white in three places, and nine pillars stood tall, firing aspectral balls of force before they had even set into place. In the same instant the pillars settled, the wyvern was forced violently into the hillside. Another second later, the ear splitting crack and shock wave from the explosions knocked Murphy onto his arse.
He scurried to his feet and shook his head. Shock waves were something he was building some kind of a tolerance for, so his ears had already stopped ringing by the time he had mounted Elltrell. They took off at breakneck speed, down the hill and towards the meeting place. His heart was beating in his throat as they approached. Elltrell cleared the distance in less than a minute. Approaching the hill, he could hear the hum of his spell, and feel the ground shiver and crack under its influence.
The wyvern was bigger than he thought, being the length and height of at least two common passenger ships. They slowed their pace when the rumbling laugh of the beast shook their chests. It smiled, and effortlessly turned its head to face Serril.
"You honour me," It spoke, its voice as deep as the horns of war. "I will give you the same respect, Demai. Leave this place, and I may let you live."
"You’re in no place to be making demands, Dralkir-Kaini. I will only offer you your life this one final time," Serril said, standing proud.
The wyvern laughed again. "Very well," it chuckled.
What happened next was a mystery for even Murphy’s eyes. He saw what he could only describe as a shimmer of reality. Something happened to the world around the beast, something so foreign in magic that it was impossible to describe. The beast disappeared, and through the shimmer walked a giant red man. He stood taller than Serril by several feet, and was built of a herculean physique. His head was crowned with two curled horns, resembling those of a ram. To finish the imposing aesthetic, he wore nothing but brown trousers, as if he had no concern for protection.
"Retreat!" Serril shouted, both mentally and out loud.
The Kir started to sprint in the opposite direction, while Serril and May darted to either side. The beast casually raised its arm, and in the next moment the Kir was reduced into a cloud of red mist and gore with a flash of light from the beast's fingers. It shot another beam at Serril, but the Demai was deft enough to dodge out of its way.
A villager sprung from a nearby bush, and darted in the direction of the pub. Two of his friends were brave enough to follow, giving the beast an easy three targets. It appeared in front of them so fast that Murphy never saw it move. The leading villager was struck down in one blow by the beast's backhand, and the other two met painful ends a moment later, as the beast's clawed hands tore through their stomachs.
It was only then that Murphy realised he was in the things line of sight. It fixed him with a smile. He released a cloud of protection just in time to stop the thing dead in its tracks as it appeared in front of him. The aspect was spent instantly, but it bought him enough time to fire an attack of force. The beast lifted from the ground and spun backwards. Rather than standing by to witness the outcome, he kicked Elltrell into a gallop. His escape was impeded when the feather-link disappeared from beneath him. He heard his mount's scream of anguish before he hit the ground. He rolled in the mud, but ignored the pain. With a potentially broken collar, he stood to run again. Finally he realised the futility, when he ran head first into the monster's chest.
He bounced back into the mud, and closed his eyes tightly, but the end didn't come. He squinted upwards to see the beast looking down at him, an amused smirk painted across its lips.
"Where did you learn to do that?" It asked him.
He responded by grabbing Uundah, and casting the most powerful stoneball he could manage. The beast caught the invisible spell in a flash. It held it in the palm of its hand, and looked it over carefully.
"Very interesting," it said, ignoring the next stoneball as it rammed into its chest. The spell did nothing to phase it.
Suddenly, there was a halo of flame around the things head, as it was struck in the back with a fireball. It turned slowly, to see a red faced Cardic standing in the rain. The boy screamed, and threw another fireball. The beast did nothing to defend itself, though it started casually approaching the boy. The ground trembled, and the wind roared furiously around the young Warlock as he continued to scream. Murphy’s stomach sank once he took it all in. If the boy was in the field, he probably saw what happened to his uncle.
"Hey! I'm not done with you yet, you ugly red bastard," Murphy shouted.
The beast paid no attention. It vanished from its spot again, leaving a trail from where it stood, towards the mourning boy.
It appeared behind him, and kicked the child face first into the mud. A spear soared through the air, bouncing its tip from the beast's skin. It sent another beam of light in the direction of the thrower, painting the ground with the now former baker. Cardic launched a fireball into the things face, and was grabbed around the throat as a reward.
The beast held the boy high in the air, and spun in a slow circle, looking around the clearing.
"Is this your bravest warrior?" It roared. "A child?"
Murphy felt his feet falling into the mud before he realised he was running. He didn't have a plan, just an undeniable urge to help the boy. He fired a ball of force at the beast, but it stepped out of the way. Cardic writhed in its grip, unable to scream in his desperation. The beast gripped tighter as Murphy drew closer, and Cardic's face turned purple. Murphy got within ten feet of the monster. He was preparing another ball of force when he heard the pop.
Cardic went limp the moment the sound rang out above the rain. With a chuckle, the beast tossed the boy's body towards Murphy. He landed at the Warlock's feet with a wet slap, and rolled enough for Murphy to stare into his empty eyes.
He screamed in rage, and blasted a spaceball directly at the monster in front of him. They were both caught by its effects, eventually throwing them away from the epicentre. Murphy curled into a ball to endure it, and held Uundah with an iron grip. The beast was less prepared. When they hit the ground, Murphy was ready to get to his feet. His enemy landed gracelessly on its head, and rolled into the mud. In the same instance he took his feet, Murphy saw a blackened blur rocket past him. Serril appeared in front of the monster, swinging his great blade in an upward arc. The enemy was sent spinning through the air, far enough to land out of site.
Serril looked over his shoulder at the stunned Warlock. "You can't win this fight. You have to run now," he said, sounding more serious than ever.
"Like hell," Murphy scoffed, shouting over the thunder. "I'll make that ronta pay for this," he said, tears welling in his angry eyes.
"Make him pay by living," Serril snapped. "You can't fight a dragon."
The warrior vanished at astonishing speed in the direction of their enemy.
Murphy stood in the rain, filled with a cold rage. Serril was right, as always. The moment the Demai had said the word, he knew it to be true. A dragon had descended upon them for reasons he could only dream to understand. The magic it displayed, and the power it spewed through the valley, was something he'd only heard in fairy tales. Dragons were as much a rarity in the world as a god might be, with a power to rival. He had no hope of lasting the fight. If he was smarter, he would have taken the advice and ran. A glance at the mangled corpse of Cardic was enough to remind him that he wasn't that smart.
He gripped Uundah with white knuckles, and began feeding his power into the O'jin. He looked from the side of his eyes at Uundah, an unspoken invitation was translated between the two in the same instant.
Uundah confirmed his feelings on the matter a moment later.
"If today is the last day, then at least we lived in adventure," the O'jin said with resolve.
Murphy nodded once, then took off after Serril.
~~
May crashed through the wall of a farmers house as Murphy sprinted towards the noise. There was a loud bang, and the dragon made a separate splintered hole in another wall, using Serril as a battering ram.
Murphy ducked to avoid a nail ridden plank hitting him in the face. Serril tucked into a ball and planted his feet into the things chest, sending it back into the rubble.
"Get out of my way!" Murphy shouted clearly in their minds.
With the gap between them established, he launched a spaceball. Seeing the rainbow flames, his party dived for cover in time to keep from being sucked into its effect. The spell exploded on the dragon, slamming it into the ground with a force that would obliterate a normal man.
"Again," Serril shouted.
So Murphy listened readily. He started firing spaceballs with unchecked abandon. One after another, the spells pelted the beast. The sound overwhelmed the hills, and the surrounding area started to spark and pop with a mix of colours, aspectral and otherwise.
He felt his power falter as Daion fatigue started to set in, but he ignored it. The dragon continued to struggle against the onslaught, still managing to hold itself on hands and knees. It wasn’t enough.
While Murphy bombarded the monster, Serril got to quickly recovering his sword, and wrapping a cloth strip around its hilt. He planted the blade into the mud. A lightning shaped crack of blue light tore through the ground, directly towards the dragon. It erupted into an ethereal cage of power, and began closing tightly around the beast.
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"What are you still doing here?" Serril shouted at Murphy.
"Same as you," Murphy shouted back, never breaking his concentration.
"Let him die if he wants it so bad," May snapped in their minds. Back with her bow, she unleashed a torrent of arrows. Her arm blurred with the motion, as she grabbed arrows from seemingly nowhere.
Seeing the archer at work struck Murphy with an idea.
"Fight it, closer to the pub, tired" he thought to his party.
"Throwing villagers at it won't slow it down, idiot," May chastised.
"Too far, built my traps," Murphy thought back, stumbling for a moment from fatigue. "I have an idea."
His last thought came through in unmistakable clarity, and Serril fixed him with a serious stare.
"Are you sure?" He thought to the Warlock.
"Do you really care right now?" Murphy shouted back out loud, straining his voice against the sound of the explosions.
"Oats, set the trap. The rest of us will fall back to the smithy," the warrior ordered with no hesitation.
"What the fuck is this plan?" May thought back in disgust.
"Hate me later, archer," Murphy yelled. "I'll give you an opening."
He raised his free hand, and fired the strongest ball of force he could manage at the time. He fired both spells at the same time, and felt his focus wane. When the forceball hit, the dragon was launched at speed away from the explosions, breaking free from the cage with an electric crackle.
To her credit, May immediately made for the smithy. Serril was beside him in the next moment. The warrior grabbed him by the shoulder with his massive hands, encouraging a searing pain to shoot through the Warlock's arm thanks to his earlier break. The wind was knocked out of him when his gut hit the Demai's plated shoulder, and Serril began a dizzying sprint towards the smithy.
The dragon's roar echoed through the village, followed by the sounds of destruction nearing their position. Serril tossed Murphy towards the building, and turned to face the coming force. Before he hit the stone ground, he felt May's thin arms catch him. She stopped his impact, and placed him onto his feet in the doorway. He never realised how strong the woman was, and thought for the umpteenth time that she couldn't possibly be human.
She glared at him with a poisonous gaze, before rushing out to stand with Serril.
She didn't need to say anything. Her eyes said enough. 'Don't fuck this up' was the message, and the recipient was more than ready to receive it.
He struggled against his soaked pocket, and pulled out a shining stone. It was the most unique stone he had managed to find in all of his days of preparation. It had to be unique for his king slayer to work. He'd defined an object within the trap, and written a rune he'd copied from one of Fletcher's texts. The stone would act as an anchor, and draw the effect from the trap to its location. The limit was distance, since it was essentially just the energy behind the spell he intended to use. If it had some fantastic effect on activation, his anchor would need to be more elaborate. On this anchor, he only needed the symbols for Daionic transfer. The king slayer rune was outside of the smithy, in the covered cellar of the old building. The loss of energy would make it virtually useless at greater distances, thanks to entropic reconstitution in the atmosphere. If the beast stood above the trap, the energy would be enough to cause some damage.
The clang of Serril's blade against the dragon's horns tore Murphy from his introspection. He readied to empower and throw the anchor.
"Explosions, old cellar, bad throw," Murphy thought to the party.
Serril kicked the attacking beast away and gave Murphy a thumbs up in the same motion. He took several large paces back, until he felt a hollow step on the wooden hatch. He waited for the dragon to lunge at him again, then stepped out of the way as it slammed its balled fists into the ground. The cellar door gave way with the impact, sending their enemy crashing into the hole. Murphy empowered and tossed the stone the moment the door broke, catching onto Serril's plan just in time. It fell slowly through the air, and stopped dead in the mud a few feet from the hatch.
"Dammit Eseyfirr!" The Demai shouted, right before the rune activated.
The next few minutes were a mystery to the Warlock. The explosion was blinding, and sent the three of them skittering across the ground. Murphy felt himself go through something on his way, when his back met something solid and won the painful encounter. He tried to gain his feet immediately after, but couldn't manage to control his limbs properly. The only thing he was sure of, was that Serril had picked him up and squirrelled him to safety.
By the time his senses were in order, he found himself propped up against a barrel. Somehow, they were in the town centre. The wet cobble beneath him seemed uncharacteristically comfortable thanks to his fatigue. It took a very conscious exertion of will to drag himself to his feet. The sounds of combat continued nearby enough to hear. For a moment, he considered running again. He was out of traps, and out of plans.
"Eseyfirr, where are you?" Serril shouted through their link.
He realigned his resolve with the sound of the Demai's voice. He'd come too far for cowardice. Once Uundah resonated the sentiment, he knew he had no choice.
"I won't run," he said firmly to his O'jin.
"We see this through, no matter the outcome," Uundah replied. They were at that moment, completely in sync. Murphy let go of his thoughts, Uundah took them keenly, and they left to finish their fight.
They rounded the corner in time to see a wall of stone shoot from the ground near the dragon's feet. The beast shattered the mass at its base, then lifted it to throw. May was bloodied and on the ground beneath it, unable to stand in time to avoid the crushing. The stone dropped, and Murphy cringed. There was a loud pop before it impacted, sending heavy debris in all directions. Murphy looked at his staff to see that Uundah had fired a forceball, exploding the boulder inches from the archer.
The beast thrust its fist into the air, raising another pillar of granite. Murphy dashed into the battlefield and scooped may into his arms. She was heavier than he expected, causing him to trip and roll onto her. He felt mud spray his back from the stones impact, and released a shroud of protection around them. The dragon's claws scraped at the invisible barrier, giving him enough time to drag May a few more feet. Serril's blade tore through the barrier as it javelined towards the beast's chest. It bounced from the thing, then disappeared in a blue flash, only to reappear in the same instance in the Demai's hands. He appeared from behind the beast, and thrust the blade downwards at the thing's ankles. The beast roared in agony as the blade sliced through its tendons and pinned its foot to the ground. It swung a flaming arm backwards, and Serril had to jump out of the way. The warrior stepped back in, and punched the beast in the jaw with a bone chilling crack.
While the giants fought, Murphy dragged May into a nearby shack filled with drying spices. She coughed blood as he laid her onto the straw floor.
"What are you doing?" She thought to him, her voice sounding as strained as she looked.
"Would you stop being a bitch for just one minute," he snapped, grabbing a handful of something he recognised immediately. The spicy flower didn't interest him, it was the cactus like stems. They had uneven flecks of the numbing aspect, and he began rapidly tearing chunks from them. When he was done, he pulped the chunks as best he could in his hands, then held the result out to May.
She shook her head, and continued to glare at him.
"If you don't eat it, I'll make you," he threatened.
She slapped it out of his hand, wasting it on the straw.
"That was for your pain you idiot," he barked. He didn't know much about medicine, but he knew how helpful that aspect could be.
She tapped an armoured plate on her thigh. There was a faint flash of light, and a small wooden box appeared in her hand.
"Go help Serril," she thought to him. Her anger seeming to have faded. "I'll see you out there, wizard."
He nodded, and stood to leave.
"Don't die, you fucking idiot," she thought to him, as he walked out the door.
Serril had driven the beast away, but they were close. He followed the sound towards the centre of town. The dragon was getting closer to the pub, so he hurried his pace.
He found the fight in the pub's courtyard, and his heart hammered in his chest. He caught the sight of the beast head-butting the Demai into the ground.
Serril tried to stand, but was only granted a foot in the gut as a reward. He coughed, and collapsed into the mud. Murphy fired a forceball, since it had been the most effective thing so far. The beast raised its arm with deliberate slowness, and caught the spell just in time. It turned, and smiled gleefully.
"The Warlock," it said, still holding the spell. "I was having so much fun, I almost forgot about you."
"I won't take it personally," Murphy spat, as he and Uundah both hurled balls of force.
It caught one of them with its free hand, then the other stopped dead, inches from its face. It clenched its fists, and the power of the spells disappeared into its skin. The other ball drifted into its now free palm.
"Not this time, I think I've learned your trick."
It flashed, and appeared in front of him. Before he had a chance to react, the dragon placed the forceball against Murphy’s chest. He spun backwards under the influence of his own spell, and stopped hard against a stone. It felt like being punched in the chest at a constant rate, and he struggled to catch his breath. A big hand grabbed his hair, and lifted him into the air. Murphy kicked at the beast to no avail. He thought that his scalp would tear off at any moment, but the moment wouldn't come. Eventually, the dragon turned him around to meet his eyes.
"So brave, for something so young," it mused.
He felt a pressure in the back of his mind, and the beast smirked. Suddenly, Murphy felt horribly vulnerable. Flashes of scattered memories passed through his mind. He remembered the wolf, and the man that had robbed him. He remembered the tower and its endless rooms. The old man’s lessons and love for cheese. His mind ventured back to Malnir, and his time in the smithy with Miata. He thought about watching his grandfather fold aspect into metal. Finally, his mind settled on a day with his friends.
They were playing at the edge of the woods, looking for sour thorn for the pub lady. It was the day Coil got sick from both ends thanks to a nasty little flower. He always remembered that afternoon in the back of his mind, since it was also the day he first realised how much he differed from the others.
They were searching the base of a great oak when they found a patch of vibrant pink flowers. Dondan’s face lit with excitement.
“The lady will love those,” he said, rushing to the flower bed.
Murphy grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him back.
“Don’t be such a gonban,” he said. “You’ll be sick for days if you get into all that.”
He waved at the flowers to emphasise.
“From a couple of flowers?” Coil scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of some daisies, ham-boy.”
“I’m not scared of flowers,” Murphy defended. “I’m just not too comfortable with what’s on them.”
He pointed at the flowers more aggressively. “That’s the colour of some kind of poison, stupid.”
“Pink? That doesn’t even make any sense,” Coil laughed. “You’ve been breathing too much air from the forge, ham-boy.”
“Not the pink, you idiot. I’m talking about that,” he gestured at the entire patch.
“It’s only pink,” Coil scoffed. He strode towards the patch. “I’ll pick them for you Dodo, since the two of you are so scared.”
“I’m not scared,” Dondan said in confusion.
“You’ll be sorry when you see I’m right,” Murphy said proudly.
Coil bent to grab a handful of flowers. He paused once his hand wrapped around the stems.
“Oh no…” He said softly, moments before his stomach gave way.
Murphy felt himself go weightless, followed by a painful jolt to his tail bone. He heard a guttural roar, and his vision cleared to show the dragon above him.
Its back was arched backwards, and it clawed with laboured swipes at the air in front. Serril had the beast by the horns, with the pommel of his blade buried into the back of its neck.
“Run,” the Demai screamed in rage. “Get out of here, you fool!”
Murphy remained still, sat on the cobble in stunned silence.
The Dragon continued to scream as the blade pulsed with power. It was growing faint in colour, and Murphy thought for sure the thing was smaller than it was before, if only by a small margin. The blade syphoned the dragon’s power at an incredible rate, dissipating the energy into the atmosphere. There was a rainbow of aspectral colours from reconstitution, powerful enough to melt part of the warriors blackened plate.
Murphy found the strength to scurry backwards to avoid the dragon’s stomps. His back met a stone and he stopped. He was far enough to be well out of the things dwindling reach, so he stayed to watch it struggle. He could taste their victory alongside the bitter iron tang in his mouth. After such a fight, and so much loss, he could see an end in sight.
The beast reduced to the size of Serril, and its bright red skin had grown sickly and pale. Just as Murphy thought the thing would fall, it gritted its jagged teeth, and gripped the hilt of the black sword.
His stomach dropped when the dragon spun around. Without any time to react, it forced its weight behind the glowing blade, and drove it deep into Serril’s chest. It pushed through the other side, and the Demai coughed a glob of blood. The sword flickered and popped while the dragon grabbed Serril by the neck and buried it deeper, and twisted it half way. Serril screamed, and the blade exploded, sending armour chunks and sharpened shrapnel tearing through the yard.
Murphy watched on in horror when his commander's body hit the ground. Thunder rumbled through the silence, the lightning illuminating the carnage in gory detail.
The dragon tilted its head backwards, letting the rain fall on its face. It let out a long and tired breath.
“I lose myself again,” it groaned. It looked around the town, finally settling its stare on Murphy.
“I grow weary of this,” it said, gesturing at the destruction. “And now the only fight here is spent,” it half heartedly kicked Serril’s body.
It stared at Murphy for a moment longer, then sniffed. Without another word, it floated slowly into the air. Once it met the low clouds, it rocketed off towards the nearby mountains, leaving a heavy misery in its wake.