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The Cycle of Wings
Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty

Wyvern and rider climbed through the air, the rain pounding them under the force of the wind that had begun to build along with the storm. While it thankfully seemed to counteract whatever downward draft the flapping of Agrathor’s wings created, it was almost worse. The buffeting winds that the Patriarch created could at least be predicted.

This wind pushed and pulled at Valen and Raenelir from all directions, trying to lash them from the sky, but their stubbornness pushed them onward. Finally, they grew level with the gigantic black dragon, facing it from across the city. Both drakes now had Midaras below them, though the shadow that Agrathor cast across the buildings beneath placed the already darkened city into near complete shadow.

From up here, though the rain made it hard to see, Valen could make out the form of their other opponent on Agrathor’s back. Velitarii was strapped into what looked to be a giant metallic saddle made of the same dark metal he had been controlling with his Oath. It was stuck directly into the dragon’s spine, sitting in between two of the spikes on the Patriarch’s back. Beyond those details Valen could not tell more from such a distance in these conditions.

Valen wondered for a moment if Velitarii might try to give some grand speech, as all the villains in all the great tales he had heard growing up did, though he knew he would never be able to hear the man anyways. Not that it mattered. It seemed the High Lord made no time for keeping to children’s tales.

Agrathor let out an angry roar that literally shook the air around Raenelir and Valen. When they saw the flickering light in the back of the dragon’s throat, they knew what was coming.

“Fly under, Raen!” Valen cried. Immediately the wyvern listened, tucking in his wings and diving. The wind tried to push them off course, but Raenelir was able to wrest control back from the storm after diving several dozen yards, extending his wings and circling back up toward Agrathor's underside.

The issue was that the Patriarch was exponentially larger than Raenelir. Any attacks they might try would be nothing more than slight irritations, if that. If they were going to have any chance of winning, they would have to defeat Velitarii himself, though that presented a whole host of different issues.

Luckily, however, the storm would make it difficult for the man to make great use of his Oath. He did not have an unlimited source of that strange dark metal, and most of what he had was being used to keep him atop the dragon. That left him with much fewer options for attacking or defending, though that did not mean much against such a dangerous enemy, he supposed.

Still, they would take any advantage they could.

Stop. Human?

The words came to Valen’s mind once again, though this time he was slightly less surprised. He smiled through the stinging rain and slapped a hand against the Highborn’s side.

“Yes!” he shouted, though he had to spit out some rain that entered his mouth as a result. He could not speak much up here, though hopefully with this strange new communication between him and Raenelir he would not need to.

Raen responded to his answer almost immediately, staying beneath their enemy even as the dragon brought his long, spiked tail around and under to try and smash them from the sky. Thankfully, the brute was not nearly fast enough to match Raenelir’s speed, even when the storm was limiting their movements. Under the Patriarch, the wind and rain could not hit them nearly as badly. It was almost as though the dragon was protecting them from the elements.

Then they dodged around Agrathor's tail and left their cover, exposed once more to the elements. The wind grew stronger and stronger, buffeting them so hard that Valen felt sure he would be bruised for a long time after all was said and done… if he still lived, that is. There was a good chance he'd just be blasted off of Raen's back without the help of a saddle.

Valen and Raenelir flew up and around, shooting along the length of the draconic patriarch from the rear and heading straight for Velitarii from behind. As they approached, however, the entire metal cage and saddle that kept the High Lord from being knocked off the massive beast turned. The metal exited the Patriarch’s body and turned like the poles underneath were legs, bending like metal should not so that the man could face them.

They had not been expecting that, and so were similarly unprepared as more of the poles, sharpened like spears, began to erupt from along Noxor’s spine. They came so quickly that the only way they could avoid the attacks was to break off their approach and fly up and away, closer to the storm clouds above. Here, the wind buffeted them worse than it ever had before, but they could either face the power of the wind and rain or be impaled by the High Lord's attacks.

There was no way he could have known that the man would simply hide the dark metal within the Patriarch himself, though it made sense. The dragon was so massive that it would not hurt him at all if the metal was not buried too far beneath the skin, the same way Valen and Raenelir’s attacks could do nothing to him. That also meant there was no way to predict where those attacks would come from, leaving wyvern and rider with no options to attack.

Below, the High Lord did not even deign to look up at them, instead keeping his attention on Agrathor as the huge dragon unleashed fire. The dragon fire sizzled and hissed in the storm, the winds seriously impeding its strength and affecting the monstrous drake’s aim, but it was still enough to set the face of another mountain alight. Thankfully, however, the deluge of the storm began to fight the fire immediately.

Hopefully, though it made things more difficult for them in the sky, the storm would stay for a while. If they had that natural defense against fire it was an small advantage Valen was only too grateful to accept.

Valen.

He was so focused on trying to figure out a solution to their predicament while also ducking down against Raenelir’s side to avoid being knocked from the wyvern's back, that he almost missed Raen's voice in his mind.

“Yeah, Raen?” Valen cried, though he had to shout almost straight into the wyvern’s neck. Thankfully, it seemed the Highborn could still understand him.

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Wind.

Confused, Valen looked around, trying to see if there was something out of the ordinary about the gusting of the storm, but it simply continued to push them around as they flew in circles above their much more massive opponent.

“What about it?” he asked, not understanding.

Must. Ride.

The wyvern’s answer was not enough of one for Valen, however, only making him more confused. Must ride? What did he mean by that? He was already astride the Highborn, so he doubted that Raen was talking about that, though he couldn't be sure. After all, speaking with wyverns was very new to him.

“I don’t understand, Raen! What do you mean ‘must ride?’” Valen replied, hoping to get some understanding here, and quickly. They did not have much time before Agrathor managed to get a handle on his flames in this weather, and then the capitol of Manidar would burn beneath them after all and this struggle would become pointless.

Play.

Valen groaned; things were only getting more confusing. This was not a time to play! But Raenelir had to know that.

Dance.

He closed his eyes, trying to listen more closely to the wyvern’s words, as that was the only thing he could think to do.

Ride. Valen.

The wind hit them once more, an especially strong gust that pulled on Valen’s cloak so strongly that it finally tore from him, nearly carrying him off of Raenelir’s back. Yet he managed to hold on with his legs long enough to get his arms out of the cloak’s sleeves and wrap them back around the base of the wyvern’s neck. He shut his eyes, feeling as though he was just on the cusp of understanding something.

Valen. Raenelir. Must. Ride. Wind.

And just like that, a lightning sense unlike any other Valen had felt before fell over him. This time, he felt the same electricity in Raenelir, as if the two sparking forces were reaching out to touch one another. It flooded the two of them as a unit and then it felt like an old memory was returning to him.

Somehow, he knew what it meant to ride the wind, and how sacred it had once been to wyverns and their riders alike. He could see it in his mind, the days that such a thing had not yet been forgotten like a vivid image that slowly faded away. Valen shuddered with fear and anticipation. Right here, right now, they would have to follow in the footsteps of those past riders if they were to have any hope of defeating their enemy.

Valen instinctually knew what to do, allowing his lightning sense to meld with Raenelir’s until it was so strong that it created a faint glow around them, making the air vibrate and hum as raindrops began sizzling on their skin. Then, once their joint lightning sense had pooled together entirely, he and Raen both dispersed it into the sky with a roar that emanated from deep inside the both of them.

It was like a switch turned. They flew through the storm so smoothly that it was as if it were the sunniest day Valen had ever seen, no winds at all save the kind that pushed them onwards. And push them it did, he realized, as he and Raenelir were flying faster than he had ever thought possible, faster by far than any dragon could ever hope to match.

Yet whatever "riding the wind" truly was, he could already feel it draining him and Raenelir. If they were going to strike, they had to do it now or lose their chance entirely.

“Let’s go,” Valen said, eyes narrowing as he looked down at Velitarii and Agrathor with fresh vision. He felt an echoing sentiment from Raenelir and then the wyvern tucked in his wings and dove, shooting downward so fast that Valen could not help the tears that were ripped from his eyes.

They pulled up at the very last moment, once again flying toward the High Lord, except this time they came at him from the Agrathor's front. Valen thought that he would have flown right off of Raen as they switched directions, but it was like the wind twisted to keep him in place, protecting him from such a fate. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. The exhilaration of it drove him to shout with excitement despite everything that had forced them to this point.

He really, truly did love flying.

Then Velitarii’s attacks began, the metal spears once again ripping from the dragon’s scaled skin to fly at them. This time, however, they dodged through and around the attacks too quickly for the eye to follow. From the sudden look of shock on the High Lord’s bare face he had not been expecting that. His features twisted into a snarl next and he gripped his Oath in both hands, the strange, chained tome glowing a dark red as suddenly the metal spears began to bend and flow, turning to come after them again even when Raenelir and Valen avoided them the first time.

They had a long chain chasing them now, with more coming from all sides as they spread out and came back in repeatedly, trying to spear wyvern and rider and knock them from the sky. Yet even when they could not dodge the spears completely, the wind itself rose to their defense, blasting them aside with incredible gusts that were as far from natural as they could be. Each time that happened, Valen could feel his and Raen’s lightning sense become noticeably weaker, a weight slowly growing upon his shoulders.

They had to finish this before it was too late.

“Ride straight for human, Raen!” Valen cried. The Highborn obeyed, not questioning his rider’s command. The closer they got to the High Lord, the denser the metallic attacks became, until finally the man even began using the pieces that kept him in place on his dragon’s back.

The winds would not hold out much longer, Valen knew, feeling exhaustion settle on him like heavy stones. Raenelir had to feel it in equal measure, if not greater. Yet still they pushed on, as the wind protection petered out and the only thing left was their speed, carrying them to Velitarii too quickly for any of the remaining metal to reach them.

Valen felt a flash of an idea, something that came from his fading lightning sense, something that just might be able to put an end to this fight before Agrathor turned Midaras to ash and his rider managed to kill them both.

“FLY UP!” Valen cried at the very last moment, and Raenelir, magnificent Raenelir, pushed through his exhaustion one last time to obey.

Just in time for the long trail of dark metal to continue straight into Velitarii, spearing him repeatedly into the dragon’s back, suspending him in the air like he had done to that poor wyvern almost two weeks before. The metal kept coming, however, obeying the last command it had been given by the High Lord’s Oath, creating a gigantic formation of metal spears lodged into the top of Agrathor’s spine.

The massive dragon seemed to notice this, finally, the sheer amount managing to do more than just irritate the beast. He roared, turning in the air with more speed than he had ever shown before, until his dark red eyes fell on Valen and Raenelir as their ascent drew to a close just beneath the dark, rumbling cover of clouds. The dragon Patriarch narrowed his eyes, probably completely unaware of his master’s death, flapping his wings so that he could rise to destroy them.

Valen and Raenelir were too exhausted to dodge, their protection from the wind gone as soon as they were no longer riding it, bodies drained from their use of the lightning sense. But they had managed to kill Velitarii. A heavy blow to the Draconic Orders had been dealt and although Valen watched their deaths approaching from below, he felt satisfaction knowing they had done well.

Then, every hair on his body stood on end. The same way it did when the lightning sense came upon him. Except, he felt no stirring within him, and somehow he knew immediately what it meant. Eyes widening, he looked up in time to see the flash of light before he was blinded as true lightning erupted from the clouds, followed by the horrible screams of a dragon in pain.

He felt a strange weightlessness for several long moments. Then the wind ripped and at him as he began to fall, his eyes recovering just enough to see that the lightning had struck the dragon in the spine right where all of the metal had been gathered thanks to Velitarii’s Oath. A hole had been opened straight through the monstrous drake where before the metal had been, a blow so mighty that not even the mighty Patriarch could survive it.

Valen idly thought as he and Raen fell through the sky that they had been hurt as well, though he felt no pain. Just numbness.

Then he struck the waters of the Black Lake and everything went dark.