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Chapter 41

Arcturus blinked, finding himself back within the black, inky void that had been the shard of Bahamut. The ever-trembling space below him ripples as he groaned and shifted. Arcturus shook his head as he clambered to his feet, finding he was without any of his armor or weapons. Disorientation wrapped him in a haze, had he not been bleeding and dying on the shard’s floor? He found that his body had been restored and renewed, not a bit of pain about him as he patted himself down.

“I did it.” He breathed in relief, finding his voice echoing to the horizon where the tendrils of flame danced upon the air, the color of autumn leaves. As he searched them a sharp pain caressed his chest, several jabs followed along the ribs. He coiled upon himself, teeth grinding together, nearly collapsing to rippling sea. It faded within his next shallow breaths, replaced with a dull ache, never forgotten as he recovered. For a moment he thought his wounds had returned to him, but lifting his shirt revealed nothing.

“Veledar.” The word came soft, gnawing at his soul. While he was here, his love was still fighting for his life. As he stood there he could hear the dull roar of his love’s voice, taste the iron like blood upon his tongue, know that time was running short. If he didn’t hurry, there might not be a dragon to save. That needed to be rectified.

“Bahamut!” He roared, finding silence to be his only reply. He continued shouting until his lungs grew haggard, desperation dripping with every repetition. Finally he dropped to his knees, “Please, I beg of you, I need you to answer me!” As his head drooped and he gazed into the blackened mirror like surface, the shape of Veledar’s broken body took shape. Where once life have been vibrant and uplifting, the crimson scales were now dull and slathered with coats of dark blood. Eyes were closed, no breaths would come, flesh peeled back to reveal bone. A sudden fearful chill gripped his heart, slithering like an icy snake down his spine till it coiled in his belly, making him shudder. “Speak to me, before it’s too late! Before that’s all what’s left of my love!”

From beneath the inky waves, shapes began to shift and churn, rising and falling along the surface. They resembled horned beasts, humanoid faces, sights to chill men to the bone. Arcturus held his ground as a single horn larger than a man emerged from amongst the goop, joined by another as it rose upon it’s own power. Bit by bit a gigantic dragon took shape, the black parting to give way to radiant platinum scales.

Bahamut flared her mighty wings as the last of the sea below cast itself away, leaving only the imposing beast before him. Her chest radiated power and strength, eyes of burning mercury settling upon his diminutive form. As he averted his gaze she descended upon him, nostrils flaring to take in his scent. When she spoke, her words were like daggers upon the knight’s neck. “So, hunter, you return to me after your first failure, you almost died the first time with our last encounter, what makes you think you’ll survive angering me again? Have you a deathwish, or perhaps you’re deluded?”

He didn’t raise his head as the dragon’s scent washed over him, like that of a mountain rain; each breath sent shivers down his spine as he could feel her gaze burying deep within him, searching his very soul. How had he expected this to go? The man gulped, finding what courage he needed when Veledar’s pain trembled through him. “I had no other choice but to seek your help, all other paths are now closed to me. Dreadflame has us beaten, our forces in disarray, the doom of this world now laid bare before us.”

“This doesn’t sound like my concern, what care do I have of that of a hunter whelp?”

Hunter whelp? Was she trying this again, dismissing what concern he had? “Everyone is to die; you can’t dismiss me so easily.”

Her nostrils flared, a growl like thunder radiated through the air and shook the ground. “I know the words of a liar hunter. You again seek my power to bring down those that stand before you, Dreadflame will be but the first.”

That was it, he could not stand to hear such a thing, not now in this hour of need. He rose without thinking, sparks flying from his eyes as he beheld the dragoness looming over him. “I am no more a dragon hunter than you are a scaled lizard lazily chomping berries and I demand that you hear me out.” He thrust a finger to her sizable nose, dismissing how she could stomp him flat or gobble him up without a thought, “I am Arcturus Lund, your paladin, and I demand of you your help to save two of your kin. Both have their lives in the balance whilst we talk.”

“Don’t fret of time, it doesn’t pass here for them.” Bahamut grunted, spreading her wing and leaving twinkling stars in their wake, “We could exist for however long we need and not a moment would have transpired for them.”

That was a relief, that he wasn’t pressed for time. Although, it did not change the conviction in which mustered to bring to bear. “I know of what I ask of you is great, but I have need of your power.”

To that the dragoness snapped, her teeth on full display, saliva splattered across Arcturus as she growled, “I already refused you once, what madness has possessed you to demand of me a second time?”

“My Umraadi is in danger this very moment, minutes from death. That alone would push me to whatever ends to rescue him. If that doesn’t ring true to you, there are other souls as well, wounded and dying because of my choices. The orb of dragonkind is about to fall into the paws of your son’s minions.” He crossed his arms as Bahamut’s snort washed over him, ruffling his hair and clothes, “I don’t want your power for myself, simply the desire to save them, save them all, and stop your son from tarnishing dragon kind’s reputation forever.”

Her eyes widened at his words as they rested like a heavy fog on the air. She rose her head with a growl, waving a paw and having shapes of mist follow in it’s wake. “And what of Dreadflame? He took everything from you, your friend, your wife, your beloved son.” At her mentions of them, the mist took on their shapes, each looking to Arcturus with pleading looks. “I thought this was what fueled you? That you would not rest until he was slain from this world? That you desired to see him suffer how you’d suffered?”

There it was, the temptation, ready to ignite the flame within. Arcturus met the gaze of his ghostly wife, knowing that she would not want that of him, to lord power over those that wronged him, to not have compassion. To give into his righteous anger, be blinded by reason. He composed himself with a deep breath, pushing all that down, “There are things more important at stake. Only two things dwell within my thoughts now, stopping your son and saving the lives of my dragon and all within that hall.” He turned to Bahamut and caught her gaze, “And I don’t care what needs to be paid to do so.”

For a moment the dragoness said nothing, eyes traveling the man up and down. She hissed and shifted, thinking his words over. When she spoke next it was with a snort and slight grin along her snout, “There is the knight I’d expected to see, the one who carries himself like a dragon rather than a man.”

His heart skipped a beat as she fluffed her wings, giving a rumble of approval.

“Your words could mean so much trouble for those with different minds Arcturus, but I see the truth and conviction in your gaze. Though, know this, the power you seek cannot be contained by a single mortal. One shard connected with you that is true, but a human is much too frail to contain more than a single one.” She sighed, giving him a saddened look, “It would eat you away from within, you would have it for a time yes, but you would perish.”

“If that is what it takes. When I crawled here, I was dying, legs broken, body all but destroyed. Bahamut, if one of us is to perish this night, I would choose myself.” He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his choice.

“Are you sure?” She asked with a grunt, “You, the last of the Lunds, giving their life up for a dragon?”

“Not just him.” He trembled, “But that of the others. One life to make sure they all get to live theirs. Please, help me save them.”

She gave him a solemn nod as he made his choice, then flaring her wings wide. Air, instead of rushing outward instead raced towards her leathery membranes. There a light built among them like that of the sun, growing larger with every passing moment until it stretched out for eternity. Arcturus shielded his eyes, clenched them tight, but it was no use, the light overtook him, invaded his every being.

The man pulled back his head as his existence was nothing but blinding light, starting to scream as pain stabbed in from every angle. It was white hot, searing, like a brand pressed to skin. It wove deeper through his flesh, passed muscle, into his bones, until nothing existed but the mind-numbing pain. It went deeper further than any mortal could ever be, it sunk down into the depths of his soul. He screamed for what little else could he do?

When it ceased he was but a drained shell, devoid of strength and energy to keep himself standing. Lucky for him, within the blackened expanse in which he found himself, gravity had no hold over him; he was left to float, gasping with haggard breaths. Within him he could feel and hear the steady beating of two hearts within his chest, one he knew was Veledar’s. It pounded with the might of a stampede, fraught with terror and despair.

Arcturus rose his head as a sense of strength built within him, one he knew that wasn’t solely his own. “Hold on.” He spoke firmly, his words mirrored by Bahamut’s voice intermixed with his own. It should have shocked him, but it hardly phased him. There was only thing left on his mind, save Veledar and the others, nothing else mattered.

** ** ** ** *

Stars burst in Veledar’s eyes as breaths would not come. Dreadflame had seen to shutting off his windpipe with his powerful paws. The younger dragon struggled and writhed in such a grip, his claws digging thick lines in the elder’s forepaws, ensuring that blood trickled down and mixed with Veledar’s own. Still Dreadflame would not yield, even while the dragon’s lungs begged for air.

This was not how it could end for Crimson Sky, it would not be fitting. His mind screamed to him to find a way to escape, even as he tried to push the fact he’d lost track of Arcturus in the bond. Dread clawed at him even stronger than his own mortality, that his Umraadi had finally shrugged off the mortal coil. Even with this he gave the older dragon a look that could kill, his last defiant act in the face of doom.

“This is where it ends little one.” Dreadflame hissed with satisfaction, his snout far enough away that Veledar could not snatch it with a flailing claw. “Arcturus bested by his rightful better, and the dragon who bore him snuffed out by my paw. Pity, as I belief we could have worked well together.” He gave a wicked grin as Veledar could only offer a hateful glare in response, “Come now, no words Crimson Sky? Look, if you want to beg for your life, I’ll spare you. You just have to say the words.” He paused as if to wait for anything but Veledar’s pained gurgle, “That wasn’t begging Crimson. Come now, it’s like you don’t want to live at all!”

Claws were his answer to such a taunt; besides, he doubted the boastful beast would indulge such a thing anyway. Veledar could feel his strength swiftly departing with every grunt and thrash as darkness began to encroach on his vision. It would not be long now he imagined before he was reunited with Arcturus in death.

Death however was not in the cards for this moment as a trio of explosive lances struck Dreadflame’s hide. They burst in gory sprays of crimson, painting all around them with blood. Veledar’s lungs took in a deep breath of the stale air as Dreadflame recoiled. He coughed and wheezed as his saviors rushed to his side, Alonso and a hand-full of guardians of various orders, all that remained of their assault. With spear and axes in hand they spread out to ward away the towering dragon, enough for Veledar to get onto all fours and escape.

“Even to your last breath you don’t know when to quit.” Dreadflame growled, ending the other guardians with a sweep of his powerful breath. Several met a grim end by the swing of his stumpy tail, or crushed beneath his bloodied paws. Alonso managed to land several meaty thwacks on Dreadflame’s hind, only to be swiftly kicked in the chest. The human crashed to the wall, slumped down in a crumpled heap, blood leaking from his skull.

Dreadflame shook, admiring the handiwork of the broken bodies of his foes that lay before him. “All that for final strikes.” He grimaced at the grievous wounds he now bore, there was no question that he’d be recovering for weeks even with magical aid. “But in the end, this was worth it, it makes my victory ever sweeter.”

Veledar wheezed, a hallowed shell of what he once was. He stood alone against the towering dragon, not even Arcturus at his side. The dragon shook off the dread curled around his neck, there would be time to mourn later, of the knight that had won his heart. For now, he had to live to see that tomorrow. With what strength he had he turned to gallop to the exit, only for twin gold dragons to emerge, looking rather proud of themselves.

Dragged along by glowing chains were that of his other friends. Azzik, Axton, Feku, Achaaz and even Tenzin was ensnared by their magical grip. The female gold dragon held her head high, tail swishing in pride at their catch.

“Looks like you’ve been having fun in here.” The gold male remarked with a prideful snort, grinning as Veledar came to a halt.

“No leaving early whelp.” The female remarked with a chuckle, “I don’t believe Dreadflame gave you permission.”

Surrounded, the others captured, Veledar’s heart sank. What victory he’d hoped to even achieve was all but destroyed. The red dragon backed up as the elder dragons advanced upon him with confident strides, knowing they had him beat.

“It’s over Veledar.” Dreadflame spoke with a deep chuckle, “You can feel it, our time together coming to an end. I can smell it on you whelp, the fear, the uncertainty. Don’t worry, I will reunite you with Arcturus in death.”

Flaring his wings, Veledar gave a threatening roar, one meant to be his last act before he was torn to shreds. Let it be the story that he stood alone against three dragons, held out as long as he could, one being that of the emperor’s blood himself. Into this roar he poured his sorrow, his rage, and every bit of himself he could muster. It shook his limbs, curled his tail, spread to the last inch of this once treasured hall. When it ended, he was left shaking, frills quivering. He expected them to disregard it with a snort, laugh and taunt him ever more, instead, all three had their eyes not on him, but that of the shard of Bahamut behind him.

A phantom roar came from the pool, reverberating off every wall and shaking the stone. Wind like that of a typhoon burst free of it’s liquid surface, snuffing out every bit of flame in a single, howling strike. From the shard’s edge, white fires began to build and grow, racing around the edge and dancing upon the air. The liquid contained within began to glow with an inner light, pulsing like that of a heart.

“What…is that?” Dreadflame shouted, frills flaring in alarm.

A massive platinum paw rose from the shard with a splash, slamming to the stone and finding purchase with sharpened, onyx claws. What crawled from the surface was a dragon of no equal, with scales of a shimmering platinum that appeared to give off their own light. The air pulsed with power, sending shivers down each of the dragon’s spines. It froze limbs and swaying tails, holding each of them in awe. The dragon rose high above them, taller than even Dreadflame himself, leaving the onyx horns that rose from it’s scaled head to drag against the ceiling. When he growled it filled the room, pierced flesh and shook the ground. When his wings flared, light brimmed within their leathery membranes, radiating out to every corner of the room. With it’s passing, flesh began to stitch itself together, blood was restored, those clinging to life found themselves brought back from the brink.

How could this be? Veledar’s jaw hung open, the appearance very much like Bahamut herself. Could this be her? The red dragon found his forepaws frozen in place, even his breaths coming harder as if weights had been strapped to his chest. He grimaced as electricity crackled between this Bahamut lookalike’s horns, getting a sense of the cold fury beating within its heart.

“Dreadflame, son of the Emperor, you’ve brought so much harm to this world, wasting the mercy that was given to you out of pity. I come to rectify that mistake.” The dragon’s voice radiated with power, yet oddly familiar to Veledar’s ear.

“Is this supposed to make me afraid?” Dreadflame finally blurt, finding his voice, as he shifted from paw to paw, “What trick is this now Fremra, Arcturus? An illusion to set me on edge? I’ll let you know it won’t work again!” He opened his maw gifted the dragon his wicked flame breath, only for the entity to open it’s own maw and inhale it all, unphased by its destructive power.

“Your breath will not aid you.” The platinum dragon growled, “I am no illusion Dreadflame.”

He grit his teeth, “Then who are you?”

“You know me. You’ve heard my voice before, it once took pity on you, but no more.”

Dreadflame’s eye widened, only for him to toss his head back with a laugh, “Arcturus, I can hear your voice within this trick of yours, I admit you had me going!”

Arcturus? The crimson dragon’s tail finally twitched, trying to focus and peel away the imposing dragon. Sure enough, there it was when Bahamut next spoke, Arcturus’ voice intertwined within its own.

“I am Bahamut given shape little one.” The platinum dragon snarled, bringing down a mighty paw that left waves of brilliant, white flames in it’s wake. This evidently was the last straw to break the back of the gold dragons, who hurled themselves to their bellies with bowed heads.

“Forgive us Bahamut, spare our lives!” The male dragon said in unison with the Female.

“What are you doing?” Dreadflame thundered, snapping his jaws, “Get up, both of you! Are you going to be tricked by such a ploy? We have them right were we want them, it’s just one man and his smaller dragon against us!” His tail lashed as he snarled, “Get up this instant, before I kill both of you!”

“You have no power anymore.” Bahamut said sternly, taking a powerful step towards the now retreating red. “Your time draws short Dreadflame, the pain, misery and destruction you will bring stopped.”

“Arcturus, I won’t be done in by this pathetic trick!” Dreadflame countered, summoning another bubble of antimagic around him. As he finished it the beast could only laugh, confidence dripping from his jaws. Bahamut however paid it little mind, the dragon slipping inside without winking out of existence. All the confidence died in an instant, replaced with a gnawing fear within Dreadflame’s remaining eye as he desperately leaped away. “This is impossible!”

Bahamut followed as the red dragon scampered away, never able to stay ahead of him for long. The platinum dragon’s claws had begun to glow with a ghostly mist, leaving thin coils upon the air as he followed on Dreadflame’s hinds. Veledar could only stand, still frozen, his limbs refusing to move.

Dreadflame ducked and weaved under thunderous paw falls, the tables thoroughly reversed upon him. Terror was upon his lips, drove every motion, until he saw his moment to strike. A savage snarl gave voice to his attack, trying to rip out the platinum dragon’s throat. It failed, passing through her as though it were not even there. His mistake was capitalized on in an instant, the red dragon slammed into the wall.

“It’s over.” Bahamut spoke, as ghostly strands of light began to condense and follow her paws.

Dreadflame squirmed and grunted, rubbing his scales raw under such an imposing force. He tried to resist her paws, but he might as well have tried to fight the sky itself. His head flailed back as he screamed, announcing Bahamut’s paws sliding through his chest. Tail lashing, claws clenching, he fought her ministrations with feral strength. It continued until Bahamut retracted her paw, bringing with it a translucent shape, a specter of Dreadflame himself.

“No, I won’t go, you can’t make me! You lacked the strength before!” Snarled the ghostly dragon as his body fell limp, slumping to the floor when Bahamut left it. He screeched, unable to free himself from being skewered upon her onyx claws. Up he rose to her open maw, finding not a spark of mercy within her gaze.

She lashed her tail and took a deep breath, a wicked hiss radiating around the room. Light condensed to her horns, crackling between them as a raging storm. From her maw came a plume of brilliant energy, of hope, doom and justice, it washed over Dreadflame’s spirit, beginning to peel his flickering form away bit by bit. She never wavered as the wretched thing squirmed upon her claws, screaming for mercy that would not come.

What gave him shape began to unwind, cast away like dust before a raging tempest. He was unmade, section by section, until nothing remained of what could be Dreadflame. All that dwelled for a moment was a singular golden draconic eye, wide as Bahamut did what she’d failed to do all those years ago. It screamed for it’s arrogance, it screamed for terror of being unmade, the appendage exploded into nothingness, signaling the end of the holy flames that undid it. Then nothing.

An uneasy calm swept over the darkened hall, the great platinum dragon settling upon her paws. Her wings folded as cold creeped to every surface, leaving the lone red dragon to follow her movements with reverence. Her gaze fell upon the scattered bodies at her paws, of the blood that stained the stone like spilled wine. Nostrils flared as the divine creature spoke in the draconic tongue, waving her paw as strands of warm, golden light flowed across each of her digits.

Rivers of gold blossomed through the air, traveling to each soul that still drew breath within this hall. With it’s passing it brought life, restoring limbs, returning blood, dragging those that stood on the brink of death back. Dozens of breaths came anew in a symphony of life, accompanied by coughs and announcements of their disbelief. All eventually turned to face their savior, falling silent as she padded back towards the empty space in which the shard had dwelled.

Bahamut waivered at the edge, turning to Veledar with a mournful look. Within her eyes glimmered a flash of emerald. They told of sorrow and regret, of days that would not come.

Veledar trembled under such a sight, his heart stretching back to his tail. Icy daggers plunged into every bit of him, figuring what she’d meant to convey. There would be no coming back for Arcturus, with each breath he could feel the tether between them fading. It was then, under her steeled expression that he found the courage to speak, should they be the last time they’d be heard.

“Arcturus, are you in there?” Veledar said, not seeing a reaction within Bahamut’s snout, “Of course you are, and even if you can’t answer, I need you to listen.” He flicked his tail and took a deep breath; this would be his last chance. “My time with you might have been short for my kind, but I have not lived as much before I met you. I sang with my heart, laughed and traversed the skies with a new set of eyes to behold it’s beauty. You treasured my secrets and gave me hope, tended to me when it looked as though everything had faded.” He stomped down a paw as tears formed in the edges of his eyes, ending it all with a snarl, “And that’s why Bahamut, don’t you dare! I deserve an answer!” When she only offered a flare of the nostrils he flared his wings, roaring out the same, “And I’ll fight you if I need to! There is no way in the nine hells that you’re sauntering off with the man that I love, you hear me? You best release him immediately before you make me your enemy.” His heart ached, wanting to scream, unable to face the future without his Umraadi.

Bahamut said nothing, letting his words rest upon the air like a fog. She searched him from paw to tail, seeming to be staring past his scales and testing his conviction. What bonds connected the pair thumbed ever brightly, to the point that Veledar nearly winced from the pain. The dragoness offered a harsh snort of approval, her form whisking away as if a phantom wind had found it. What remained of her gave Veledar pause and nearly for his jaw to fall open.

Where the dragoness had been was a silver dragon curled upon himself. With black scales that ran the length of his underside and all the way to his armored looking head. Onyx talons and horns adorned this beast, with golden slivers at their bases. His wings had crimson leathery membranes, the same coloration of Arcturus’ tabard. His tail ended in a sharpened spade of black, resting neatly upon his blunted snout.

Breath caught in his throat as he settled upon the silver beast before him. It smelled of steel and dragon, not a hint of Arcturus about it. Yet, within his breast he could sense the bond, of a calm like he’d never known. It radiated off the silver dragon before him, “Arcturus?” He spoke the words in disbelief, his pawstep approach coming with the same energy, tentative, uncertain.

No answer came to elevate the growing dread within him. It had to be his Arcturus, right? Bahamut would not leave him like this. The red dragon approached with fluttering frills, ignoring the cheers of the guardians around him. His heart skipped a beat as his nostrils caught whiff that reminded him of the human he adored. He would have warbled and leaped upon him right then and there, yet hesitated, worried that his next action would cause this dream to shatter.

“Arcturus?” As the words left his crimson maw, the form of the silver dragon gave way just as Bahamut had done, drifting away as multicolored strands.

What remained before him was not the dragon, but Arcturus coiled upon himself. The human’s attire was torn, his armor beaten and worn. His eyes were closed as if asleep. Not a scratch was on him, no blood marred his flesh, even his hair looked to be unmarred by what had recently befallen him. It couldn’t be real.

Veledar sniffed in a state of panic, from feet to the human’s short brown hair. Each intake brought more proof, a solid fact that this was no trick, no illusion, Arcturus had not perished. He warbled and trilled, nuzzling along the sleeping man’s face. He had no words that would do justice, so he flopped down around him like a shield, cupping a paw around the man’s chest and pulling him to his own. There he cooed and rumbled, covering himself with a wing, no one needed to see what came next. The crimson dragon broke down, tears streaming over his crimson scales as he gave voice to his praises for Bahamut.

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I know this chapter wasn't that long. However I still hope you enjoyed it. Next weeks will be far longer. Just got over being sick at the hospital here, hope the rest of you feel better!