Doomwing found it amusing that the fish of the lake had chosen to gather around him. At first, they had kept their distance. He was a dragon, and they were fish. The possibilities were obvious. But he was no hatchling. He was a primordial dragon. What use were normal fish to him? He was far too large, and they were far too small.
Only the bravest and most foolish fish had approached him. But when he had continued to ignore them, the other fish had soon joined them. Why? The fish were not particularly intelligent, but they had a crude sort of cunning. They had noticed that the fishing boats gave him a wide, wide berth, unwilling to risk rousing his ire.
As strange it seemed, the fish were safest when they were next to him.
That fact amused him, as did the plight of the fisherman who were torn between going after the schools of fish that clustered around him and staying as far away from him as possible. In the end, none were brave enough to approach, and so the fish were able to enjoy themselves without fear of being caught.
He would be meeting with his subordinates later today, along with the prospective recruits. He had taken their measure using his construct, but there was something to be said about meeting them face to face. It was easy for a man or beast to contemplate betrayal when the consequences were not obvious. It was harder when those consequences were him, and he was there in the flesh.
In the meantime, however, he found his mind drawn to those long ago days when fish such as these might have been worth his time.
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"This is a bad idea," Doomwing said. He was twenty feet long now. Alas, he had yet to fully cast aside his hatchling proportions. His wings were still too big, his tail was still not quite long enough, and he had yet to develop any of the frills, crests, horns, or cranial ridges that were common to older dragons.
"It'll be fine," Stormtooth replied. She was a tad larger than him, but she was very proud of her increasingly refined proportions. She looked more like a small adult dragon rather than a large hatchling. "There will be two of us, and sharks usually travel alone. We'll have it outnumbered."
"You're talking about going after one of the giant sharks," Doomwing said. "Not a regular shark."
"Well, yeah." Stormtooth nudged him with her snout and grinned. Her teeth were big and sharp and shiny. "Normal sharks don't taste as good. We both know that. The best sharks are giant sharks. Besides, it's not like we have to go after one of the huge ones. We can go after one of the smaller ones, you know, something about fifty feet long."
"Fifty feet long? That's longer than both of us put together." Doomwing flexed his wings nervously. "And giant sharks have magic too. Not to mention, it'll probably be too big for us to carry out of the water. We'll have to fight it underwater, and it's a shark. They live underwater. We don't."
"If worse comes to worst, we can always just run away. What's the shark going to do? Follow us into the sky?" Stormtooth sniggered. "We'll be fine."
"I guess…" Doomwing nodded slowly. "But if it's too strong, we should run away. We can always come back when we're bigger."
"Yeah, yeah. But that's not going to happen." Stormtooth flared her wings as electricity crackled over her body. "We're dragons. No stupid shark is going to beat us, even if it is a little bit bigger."
They headed out over the open sea, their wings carrying them swiftly through the air until they reached a spot a few older dragons had told them about. Giant sharks were supposed to come here from time to time, drawn closer to the surface by whales, seals, and fish. It might have been easier to go after a lone whale, but whales rarely travelled alone. The last thing they needed was to find themselves fighting off a whole pod of the creatures.
"Come on." Stormtooth peered down at the water. "I think I see one over there!"
Without another word, she folded her wings and dove.
"Wait!" Doomwing shouted. "Shouldn't we check to see how big it is first?"
But Stormtooth had already vanished beneath the waves, her streamlined form slicing easily through the water. Doomwing sighed and dove after her. Why was he friends with her again? Oh, right. She was actually really nice when she wasn't doing something crazy.
The water was cold, but that was no problem for a dragon. His eyes had no trouble seeing either, and he took careful note of the fish and mammals that immediately moved to avoid him. He doubted any of them were looking for a fight, but it was better to be safe than sorry. A whale might not have a dragon's teeth or claws, but some of them had fearsome horns, and their sheer size and weight meant they could do a lot of damage with a ramming attack.
Looking around, it didn't take him long to spot Stormtooth. The other dragon was swimming toward a large shark. The shark was perhaps forty feet in length, and Doomwing allowed himself to relax. Forty feet? That wasn't so bad. They could handle a shark like that easily enough, and Stormtooth was right about how good giant sharks tasted. They were young dragons too, so eating the shark's heart and other organs might even help to make them stronger.
He used his wings, limbs, and tail to swim toward her. It was almost like flying underwater, albeit not nearly as fast. Yet just as he was about to reach her, she suddenly stopped.
"What's going on?" he asked. He was using magic to communicate. Stormtooth wasn't good at magic, but even she could manage a communication spell when they were this close to each other. "Why did you stop?"
She didn't reply. Instead, she began to back away, wings beating furiously as something emerged from the darkness of the truly deep water below them. It was another giant shark – and it was more than a hundred and fifty feet long. The shark she had been following was slower to notice the threat, and it cost the animal its life. With one massive bite, the larger of the two sharks ripped a chunk out of the smaller beast.
The smaller shark thrashed and tried to use magic to heal itself only for the larger shark to finish it off in brutal fashion. Yet even as the massive shark swam through the cloud of blood its kill left behind, its beady eyes locked onto Stormtooth and Doomwing. The smaller shark might have sated its hunger, but even a shark of its size could benefit from consuming a pair of hatchlings.
"Run!" Stormtooth hissed. "Go!"
Doomwing turned and began to flee for the surface – only for the water around him to thicken and harden. It was magic! The giant shark was using magic to slow them down! Desperately, he tried to use his own magic to clear the way, but the shark barely seemed to care. Instead, it closed in, tail thrashing, mouth wide open, ready to devour him whole.
"We can't get away," Stormtooth shouted. "We have to fight!"
Doomwing knew she was right, and the urge to point out that he'd warned her about this exact possibility was almost overwhelming. But now was not the time. "Fine!" His mind whirled as the shark closed in. "We can't fight it head on. It's too big. We need to avoid its mouth, grab on, and hit it as much as we can!"
"Okay!" Stormtooth nodded. "You're usually right about stuff like this. Watch out. Here it comes!"
Doomwing stopped trying to dispel the magic that was thickening the water and instead layered every speed enhancement magic he could think of on himself and Stormtooth. It was tempting to make them more durable, but he doubted that any magic he knew would allow them to survive even a single bite from the monster in front of them.
"Dodge!" he shouted. "We have to dodge!"
The shark closed the distance, and Doomwing flung himself to the side. The shark's jaws snapped shut, only inches from his wings, and he turned and latched onto its side with his claws. Rather than dig into flesh, his claws skittered off the thick, armoured plates that covered the shark's body.
Younger giant sharks had scales, but the older and larger ones had armoured plates that made it easier for them to survive close combat against the savage creatures of the deep. He bit back a curse. If he couldn't grab on, the shark would simply turn around and attack him again. He had to hold on!
Finally, his claws found purchase on an oddly shaped plate as he found himself dangling off the shark almost halfway down its body. He looked up and saw Stormtooth a little closer to the shark's head. She had managed to avoid the shark's jaws as well although the scales on her side were broken. It must have managed to strike her with its fins or the side of its head.
"I'm fine!" Stormtooth growled. "Let's kill this thing!"
There was a flash of light, and then electricity erupted from her mouth as she spewed a bolt of lightning straight into the shark's side. That should have ended the battle – and against a normal shark, it would have. But this was a giant shark, and it had magic of its own. The shark's body gleamed, and Stormtooth's electricity petered out.
"What?" She snarled. "This thing has magic to defend against lightning? Why would it even have that?"
"I doubt you're the first opponent to try use lightning underwater," Doomwing said. "Keep trying!"
"Fine! Let's see how long you can keep my lightning at bay!"
As more lightning lit up the water, Doomwing reached deep within himself and then unleashed a torrent of searing flame at the shark. The water immediately boiled and rushed outward, only for more water to thunder in to fill the sudden void. The shark began to thrash and roll, and Doomwing just barely managed to cling on.
"It's not working!" Stormtooth panted. "I can't get through its defences!"
Doomwing growled. "Just keep trying! There's nothing else we can do!"
But no matter how hot he made his flames, they just couldn't burn through the thick plates of armour the shark had. Wait. Why not use his telekinetic breath too? Instead of having his fire spread out when it hit the shark, he could keep it tightly bound, like… like a spear! No. If he wanted to pierce through the shark's armour, then he needed to concentrate as much force as possible in as small an area as possible.
He didn't need a spear of fire. He needed a needle of flame.
Using his telekinetic breath and fire breath at the same time was hard, but the torrent of flames went from a blast to a narrow beam and finally to a needle-thin lance. The shark writhed, and Doomwing had to struggle to keep from being thrown off. But it was working. The spot where his attack was hitting began to glow before the beam burned a narrow hole through the thick plate of bony armour.
The shark seemed to realise the danger, and it swam toward a reef. Doomwing's whole body shook as the shark slammed its side against the reef in a bid to knock Doomwing loose. But Doomwing held on, his entire mind focused solely on keeping his flames as hot and narrow as possible.
The needle-thin beam of flame punched through the shark's outer armour and went deeper, burning through its tough hide and then into its flesh. It roared in fury, and Doomwing cursed. He'd managed to wound it, but the wound simply wasn't large enough. He couldn't swing the beam back and forth either. It would need time to pierce through any other parts of the shark's body.
But what if… what if he stopped trying to control the end of the beam? If he just stopped containing the end of the beam, the flames would expand, right? There would be a cloud of fire inside the shark, and he doubted the shark's interior was as tough as its exterior.
The shark contorted, and Doomwing would have been torn off its body if not for Stormtooth. The other dragon had realised that whatever he was doing was working, and she had abandoned her position to throw herself over him, shielding his body with hers as the shark rammed them into another part of the reef.
"Just finish what you're doing!" Stormtooth shouted. "I'll make sure you don't fall off!"
Doomwing didn't bother to reply. He needed every ounce of his concentration. He called on every scrap of fire he could muster and shoved it into the narrow beam of flame before allowing his control over the end of the beam to slip. The result was devastating. Flame erupted outward inside the shark, and he felt the sudden surge of heat as his fire went on a rampage, expanding like a cloud of molten death as it charred the shark's organs.
The shark gave a shocked, horrified groan, and flames belched out of its mouth and eyes. It thrashed violently, trying to stifle the flames within it, but the attack had done too much damage too quickly, and whatever healing magic it knew wasn't nearly enough. After one last, frantic spasm, the shark went still and began to float toward the surface.
Doomwing sagged, utterly exhausted. He was dimly aware of Stormtooth grabbing him and swimming for the surface before they breached the surface beside the body of the shark. They floated on their backs, and he glanced over to see that his friend was covered in wounds. Some of her scales were shattered whilst others had been ripped out completely. How many of those had she gotten protecting him at the end?
"Heh." Stormtooth began to laugh. "How do you like that, you overgrown guppy? We did it, Doomwing! We killed that shark!"
He laughed tiredly. "Just barely. If its armour had been any thicker, I doubt I would have been able to pierce through it."
"That's not the point. There's no use in worrying about what ifs. What's important is that we won." Stormtooth swam toward the shark. "Now, come on. We need to think about how we're going to get this shark back to shore. Otherwise, a bigger one could turn up to take it."
Doomwing shuddered. "If that happens. We're leaving. We are not fighting an even bigger shark."
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"Yeah, yeah." Stormtooth perked up. "Look! That's an elvish whaling ship! We can get them to help us drag it back. I'm sure they'll help if we offer them part of the shark." She cackled. "Although we'll be keeping the best parts."
Doomwing groaned. "If we're lucky they'll be friends of Dion. They'll definitely help us out then."
Dion was a god and one of Doomwing's best friends. He had always told Doomwing that if he ever needed help from the elves, he was welcome to use his name. Dion was friends with most of them, and they owed him plenty of favours. If Doomwing used his name, they'd help him out. He could also use Mother Tree's name. She was quite fond of him, and the elves owed her their allegiance. But he'd try Dion's name first. Mother Tree would be quite upset if she found out that he and Stormtooth had fought such a large shark.
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Doomwing chuckled as the memory faded. The elves had indeed been friends with Dion, and they had agreed to help them haul the shark back to shore if they got to have a bit of it. He and Stormtooth had ended up enjoying a roasted shark with the elves on the beach, and they had eaten their fill of its organs, growing stronger with each bite. They had split the heart, and Doomwing had been forced to admit that it was truly delicious, no matter how dangerous it had been to acquire.
Dion had been quite proud of him when he'd found out. Unfortunately, Mother Tree had also found out, and she had lectured both him and Stormtooth on their foolishness. Afterward, she had sent them off to learn from a leviathan she was friends with. If they were determined to hunt in the water, then they needed to learn magic that would keep them from being overwhelmed by the natural predators of the deep.
That magic had later proven itself against the Lord of the Tides.
Oh, yes. That had been a difficult battle, far harder than that childish squabble against the giant shark. Every moment of it was burned into Doomwing's mind.
He could remember the frantic struggle as he and the other primordial dragons had tackled the titanic creature. Ashheart had been the largest of them, and even he had been nothing compared to the Lord of the Tides. That abomination had been twelve miles long. Only the gods and Mother Tree had been larger.
They had tried to force him out of the sky and onto an island, but he had managed to twist and turn his fall into a dive. They had gone into the water, all of them, and the battle had soon turned in the monster's favour.
Ashheart had been the first to be thrown off, and the Lord of the Tides had sent him tumbling into the depths with a blast of magic so powerful that the shockwave of the following impact had shaken the entire ocean. But there had been no time to worry about Ashheart. The water around them had closed in on them, the devastating pressure of the deep magnified millions and millions of times over.
Against such force, even his scales had begun to crack. Fathombinder had done his best to lessen the pressure, but even he had been no match for the Lord of the Tides despite being an oceanic dragon. Doomwing had clawed his way up his enemy's body, climbing even as his scales cracked and blood spewed from his mouth. If he could just get up to the Lord of the Tides's head…
And then the blackness beneath them – the endless, bottomless void of the true deep, had grown bright with volcanic light. Ashheart had not been slain. Wounded, scarcely able to move, he had used his magic to tear open the bottom of the sea.
From the great gash in the seafloor had come the molten blood of the earth. Lava poured out, and Ashheart took hold of it, shaping it into a great suit of armour in the shape of a dragon. More and more lava came from the earth, and the molten dragon grew larger and larger until it was of a size with the Lord of the Tides himself.
At the heart of it was Ashheart, and the tectonic dragon's roar was long and loud as he braced the armour's feet against the ocean floor and heaved himself upward, heedless of the water and the pressure, the armour's great arms wrapping around the Lord of the Tides as the armour's wings beat and drove them up toward the surface.
They had broken through the surface, and Doomwing had almost slipped off the Lord of the Tides as the crushing weight of the ocean – magnified millions of times over by their enemy – vanished. Yet the ocean was still near, and the water rose up, heeding the Lord of the Tides as it sought to drag them back down into the depths where their enemy was stronger.
"Higher!" Doomwing had roared. "Higher!"
His wings were broken, and the scales all along his body were shattered and torn. Blood seeped from countless wounds, and he could barely see. He tried to use healing magic, but the Lord of the Tides was no fool. His own magic was present, doings its best to cancel whatever runes or spells they might try. There was no finesse to it and little skill, but there was power – so much power.
"We have to get away from the water. Take us higher!"
And Ashheart, loyal to the point of madness, obeyed. He must have been even more badly wounded than Doomwing, but still, he obeyed. His armour beat its wings, and they began to rise, slowly but surely. It wasn't enough. The Lord of the Tides had many followers, and they raced to intercept them. If they could force the battle back into the water, it was over. Even with Fathombinder, they were no match for him.
But Doomwing had allies of his own. Stormbringer and Dawnscale raced through the sky, with Frostfang, Regal Flame, and the others at their heels. They met the forces of the Lord of the Tides head on, and the sky became a battlefield yet again.
Rising higher, the Lord of the Tides seemed to realise that the waters of the world would no longer be able to help him. Instead, he called to the clouds and the storm, to the birthright his father, a fool of a tempest dragon, had given him. Lightning flashed, rain poured down, and the wind howled. Even with Stormbringer there, the storm would not clear, and once again, the Lord of the Tides writhed in Ashheart's grasp, close to breaking free.
"Take us above the storm!" Doomwing had cried. "Take us above the clouds and the rain and the lightning!"
"He is too heavy!" Ashheart boomed from within his armour. "I… I cannot lift him quickly enough."
That was when Dreamsong had returned. She had been felled earlier in the battle, and Doomwing had feared her dead. But she was there, wings tattered and barely capable of flight. She sang, and a dream became real. Wings wide enough to span the skies formed, attaching themselves to Ashheart's volcanic armour.
Their slow ascent became a heady climb, and Doomwing continued to claw his way up the Lord of the Tides's body. Higher they went, above the storm, above the thunder, the clouds, and the rain, higher until the world curved below them and the air grew truly thin. Chains of dream and hope flared to life and added their strength to Ashheart's.
The Lord of the Tides broke them one after another, and with each broken chain, Dreamsong spat blood. She was no longer able to fly under her own power. Instead, she clung to Ashheart's titanic armour, bleeding magic and blood into the cold air that seemed just shy of the stars.
How many had given their lives to get them this far? Aurai and the braves elves and dwarves of the sky had all perished, as had many of their other allies. But now, at last, the Lord of the Tides was away from the waters and storms he commanded. He was no longer at full strength. This was their best – perhaps only – chance to slay him.
But how?
The great ancient runes that Doomwing knew could not be used so easily against a foe who was still struggling so mightily, nor was the Lord of the Tides undefended against such attacks. At best, they might break even, but how then should they slay him without runes or magic?
A slow smile crossed Doomwing's lips.
He knew how.
He threw all of his magic into an assault meant to break the Lord of the Tides's defences. It just barely worked, even with help from Dreamsong and Ashheart. The others were trying to fly up to lend their own aid, but the forces of their enemy were keeping them occupied. Not even Dawnscale, the best flier amongst them, could break free of the endless swarms that had thrown their lot in with the Lord of the Tides.
"You are out of magic and runes," the Lord of the Tides had taunted as his great body contorted, on the verge of breaking free. "Without them, how will you kill me, dragon?" All of his runes and magic had been dispelled, but he could tell that Doomwing had no others left to throw at him. In a contest of pure physical might, the Lord of the Tides would eventually win.
Doomwing had not bothered to reply with words. Instead, he had heaved himself up at the Lord of the Tides's head in a desperate, awkward leap. He just barely managed to grab hold, and he reached deep within himself for what was left of his flames and telekinesis.
A needle of flame.
He dragged in a deep, deep breath, and then unleashed a needle-thin beam of heat as bright and devastating as the sun. It struck the head of the Lord of the Tides – and the scales there held.
The Lord of the Tides had laughed. "It is hopeless, dragon! You cannot kill me! My scales were tempered in the depths of the sea! They are a gift from my mother and father! No flame can pierce them!"
Doomwing roared, and the flames grew hotter and narrower still – but still, the scales refused to give.
"Doomwing!" Ashheart bellowed. "I cannot hold him much longer!"
Dreamsong gave a wordless cry of distress as her remaining chains began to snap, and the ethereal wings she had gifted Ashheart's armour began to fray.
A needle wasn't enough…
But what about a drill?
Doomwing's head threatened to split in half from the strain of trying to control his flames and telekinesis while so badly injured. He took the needle of flame and made it spin, faster and faster and faster until he could scarcely perceive the speed of each rotation.
The scales that had held firm against every attack so far finally began to give way, glowing first white and then cracking as the needle-thin drill forced its way through.
The Lord of the Tides screamed in true pain and disbelief, and Ashheart could barely hold him still. Dreamsong let her chains snap and instead lashed out with a frantic mental attack. The Lord of the Tides fought the intrusion, and Doomwing pressed his attack. Down the drill of fire went, down and down until at last there was no more scale or bone before it and only the vulnerable brain beneath.
The monster's roar turned into a keening wail, and Doomwing poured every last ounce of flame he held within his body into the end the needle and then let go.
A star bloomed to life inside the Lord of the Tides's skull.
But even as he died, the Lord of the Tides would not let them go unscathed. Doomwing felt their enemy's magical circulatory system begin to come apart – a suicide attack.
"We have to get clear!" Doomwing shouted. "We have –"
And a second, even larger, star filled the sky as the Lord of the Tides exploded.
Doomwing's jaw clenched at the memory. He had lost consciousness and awakened again as they fell to earth, pummelled by pieces of Ashheart's ruined armour. He had shielded himself with his wings at the last moment, and both of them had been burned away, leaving only stumps behind. Dreamsong was in a similar state but still unconscious. He had seen Dawnscale rising quickly, angling toward them, and he had dredged up whatever telekinesis he could to shove Dreamsong at her. She would catch her.
And then he had seen Ashheart. His friend was in an even worst state than him. His wings were both gone, just like Doomwing, but his limbs were scarcely any better. Great gashes and burns covered the rest of his body, and it seemed impossible that he could still be alive. Ashheart must have tried to shield Doomwing and Dreamsong with his armour at the last moment, and he had paid the price for it.
The armour itself was gone, reduced to a storm of meteors plummeting back to the ground around them.
Doomwing had forced out the very dregs of his magic, heedless of the damage he was causing to his soul and magical circulatory system – both would heal in time, but not if he was dead – and cast the strongest runes he could upon himself and Ashheart. He had hoped to stop their fall entirely, but all he could managed was to slow their descent slightly.
But that had bought the others the time they needed to arrive as the Lord of the Tides's forces either fled or were cut down as the shock of his defeat swept over them. Doomwing had allowed himself to be carried down to the ground where Dawnscale had set about healing the worst of their injuries, only stopping when he had warned her to be careful of exhausting herself. She was their best healer. She would not be able to help any of them if she collapsed.
It had taken him some time to fully heal from his injuries – even with all the help he had received – but he had healed in the end, and as bittersweet as their victory had been, it was still a victory.
Movement caught his attention, and he returned to the present, leaving his memories aside. His subordinates and the prospective recruits had been taken for a ride upon the sky ship. Now, though, the sky ship was coming to land in the waters nearby, so they could enjoy a dinner on the water – and speak with Doomwing.
He shook himself, startling the fish and sending waves rippling across the lake. Enough of memories. There was no changing the past. It was time to look to the future. Although… perhaps when he had the chance, he would go hunt down a giant shark.
He could leave half of the heart on the beach to honour the friends and allies he'd lost over the years. Sentimental, perhaps, but only a fool forgot the past and the lessons, both sweet and bitter, that it taught.