Zyryxa scanned the sky, her heart pounding with dread. The thought of encountering Fire Tribe dragons on the open expanse of the western ridge sent chills down her spine. Exposed to the sky, she could barely protect herself, let alone Lexyn. But the sky remained clear, with only the steady snowfall in sight. Her fear subsided slightly as another roar echoed from beyond a hill to the northeast.
“Pelzyq is in danger!” Lexyn shouted from atop Dryxl. “We have to help him!”
Zyrxl bounded to Zyryxa’s side, sensing the urgency. Zyryxa hesitated, her vindictive nature wanting to leave Pelzyq to his fate. Let Qoryxa judge him for invoking the Divine of Death against her! Zyryxa battled her unforgiving impulses, recalling Qoryxa’s sacred mandate to care for the vulnerable. She couldn’t fail Lexyn again. Saving Pelzyq would not only fulfill her duty but also give her leverage over him, a satisfying bonus.
“Zyryxa!” Lexyn howled, already ascending the hill.
Zyryxa leapt onto Zyrxl and spurred the coldscale after Lexyn. Despite the impending battle, Zyryxa couldn’t help but admire her. Lexyn, who once lived in crippling fear, now charged headfirst into danger to protect a man that had only mocked and harassed her. She was ice, after all. Zyryxa wanted to be worthy of Lexyn’s admiration like Lexyn was worthy of hers.
Zyrxl crested the hill, revealing a massive white wyrm. The monstrosity lacked wings but possessed the body, claws, and horns of a true dragon. The forty-foot beast unleashed an icy breath on Pelzyq, immobilizing him in a layer of frost as Lexyn’s arrows shattered against its scales.
“Aim for the eyes!” Zyryxa bellowed.
The creature roared as Lexyn’s arrow pierced its eye. Enraged, it thrashed, its massive body thundering toward the hilltop. Lexyn, undeterred, nocked another arrow. Her hands were steady, her eyes fierce with determination, reflecting the unearthed strength that Zyryxa knew she possessed.
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“Keep aiming for the eyes,” Zyryxa ordered, “I’ve got its heart!”
Zyryxa roared, kicking Zyrxl into motion. She lowered her head as the beast unleashed a blizzard from its mouth. Zyrxl swerved blindly through the icy mist. Zyryxa shivered, her grip weakening on the wyrmbone lance. Blinded, she tried to aim, but it was like grasping something with thick mitts.
The lance shattered against the wyrm’s hardened scales, pain exploding through Zyryxa’s shoulder. She cried out, lost in the blizzard. Zyrxl circled blindly, but the wyrm’s tail struck, sending both the drake and rider flying. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and she forced herself to move, fighting through the agony and freezing cold.
Zyryxa struggled to a knee, only to be pinned by the wyrm’s massive claw. She pushed with all her might, desperate to survive, but her shoulder gave out, and the beast pressed her down. Zyryxa roared, trying to summon her icy rage, vividly picturing herself butchering the divinedamned wyrm. But the beast’s thousand-pound claw pressed her into the ice, sapping her strength and hope, leaving her utterly helpless.
Tears froze on her cheeks as she groaned. Every breath became a struggle against the wyrm’s unrelenting force. She prayed to Qoryxa for a miracle, vowing to prove her worth and uphold her duty to the Goddess. She glanced at Pelzyq, unconscious and blanketed in ice.
I will even be kind to him. I will welcome him into my brood as a brother. I will do whatever it takes! I don’t want to die! Please, Qoryxa, bless me with your strength!
The white wyrm cried out in agony, its claw lifting suddenly. Zyryxa rolled free while it was distracted. Powered by Ice’s judgment, she drew Zyrthalla’s greataxe and ran under the wyrm. Crying and screaming, Zyryxa drove the axe repeatedly into its underbelly, hacking through layers of scales until she pierced its heart.
She freed the axe as the wyrm’s death shriek pierced her ears. Bluish-white blood gushed out of the wyrm’s heart. The blood, colder than anything she ever felt, flooded onto her in torrents, nearly freezing her in place. Zyryxa, teeth chattering, barely stumbled out from under the wyrm before it collapsed.
Soaked in the white wyrm’s blood, Zyryxa shivered uncontrollably. Exhaustion and cold overwhelmed her as she fell to the ground, teetering between reality and hallucinations. A draconic tongue cleared the blood from her face, but the cold was in her bones. Zyryxa slumped into sleep, uncertain if she would ever wake, unable to resist the encroaching darkness any longer.