A Scale of Sapphire

Aoife

My whole world was fire. I could see nothing, smell nothing, and feel nothing but the blinding light, scalding plasma, and burnt flesh. Time had snapped back into motion, and my teeth could barely pierce his scales. I screamed, and my icy magic lashed out wildly around me. I wanted to rip and tear and bite and claw and freeze, but at the moment, all I could manage was to hold on. Every ounce of my concentration was busy trying not to just writhe on the ground and beg.

Cyrus, on the other hand, had recovered from his initial shock at my attack, and had returned to his ordinary arrogant demeanor. His flames condensed around us, raising the temperature even further in spite of my flailing frost magic. WIth one massive clawed hand, he grabbed me by the torso and yanked me off his throat before pinning me to the ground.

“See, Moonlight? This is what I’m talking about. You keep throwing these childish tantrums for the sake of people we both know are beneath you. I’ve let you get away with that too many times, and to be honest, I’m getting sick of it.” The whole while, golden plasma continued to constrict and strike and burn me. The whole while, he kept pressing down harder.  My icy armor had melted, and cracks were beginning to form in my scales, and my wings…

The beautiful butterfly wings that Willow had given me were in tatters. They were burning, and I couldn’t stop it, and goddess it hurt so bad. I screamed again, but no ice came out, just a hoarse wail. My throat was raw, and I think it might have been bleeding. I wasn’t sure. Everything just hurt too bad. I scrabbled desperately at the larger dragon’s wrist, but what few cuts I managed to open closed almost as fast. Even if I froze time again, something I wasn’t even sure I could manage, his grip was so tight that I doubted I’d be able to break free. Put simply, I was fucked.

“Aoife!” A familiar voice called, her hoofsteps rapidly approaching.

Please no.

“I’m coming!”

Don’t.

“You know, there is something I’ve learned recently, Aoife.” Cyrus leaned down, his massive frame impossible to look away from. “You tend to get a bit more feisty when the monsters you’ve attached yourself to are in danger. We don’t want that now, do we? Your little bull can flail all she wants, but she’s not going to prevent this.” Suddenly, the flames died out. It was just me and Cyrus, his jaws open wide, golden energy building steadily in the back of his throat. He took a deep breath in.

“Get the fuck off of her you giant creep!” Erica’s golden sword dug into his side, slicing through his scales like a hot knife through butter. He yelped in pain and surprise, discharging his building breath attack in a single, weak puff. Golden flames continued to lick the wound when Erica extracted her blade, and the gash closed slower than I’d ever seen.

Hoofbeats roared like thunder as the centaurs began to close in, the steady rumble occasionally punctuated by the slow plod of treants and other massive plants, and Cass was still standing. She held her oversized sword one handed, her left, burned and blackened, hanging limply at her side.

If there was one downside to presence training, it’s that I couldn’t train myself. I was immune to my own power, and that left me uniquely vulnerable to Cyrus’. It looks like I was the only one who gave up. Although now that I thought about it, wasn’t that weakness a two way street?

Without a second thought, I cranked up my own presence as much as I could, powerful dread flowing from me in waves. The others who’d arrived shifted nervously, but they were used to this by now. Cyrus, however, reeled back as if I’d struck him. He released me from his grip, jumping backwards and snarling.

Now free, I rolled off my back, pushed myself to my feet, and limped over to Erica.

“I’m so sorry, Little Lizard.” She looked me over for a moment, gently brushing the base of my horn with one hand. “I should’ve been faster.”

“Don’t say that, Erica.” My voice came out in a croak that made me want to cough, but I managed to hold it in for now. “You did the best you could. Thank you.”

“I could’ve-!” She heaved out a sigh. “What’s done is done. Let’s end this bastard.”

Willow

I can’t even begin to describe how much the waiting hurt. I’d seen that malicious sun rise, I knew what it was, I knew who it was. Aoife had told me about her dreams, and I knew he’d chosen that form just to hurt her. Just to scare her. Just to prod at the trauma he’d already inflicted on her. I knew Aoife had charged in anyway. I knew that Erica was taking the centaurs to follow suit.

And here I was. Waiting.

For all I knew, my girlfriends could be dead already, and the only thing I could do was try to trust that they weren’t. I had a job to do, and if I didn’t do it, we were all dead anyway. I had to wait, I had to watch, and I had to trust. I’d gathered the treants in a loose semicircle around Cyrus, each one with a massive boulder in hand. Avery, the giant that Aoife had found, was in formation alongside them, telephone pole in hand. I’d recruited every human gunner I could find. The ones that could still move, at least. We surrounded the town square, and we waited.

Then the second sun went out.

Then there was a roar, one much deeper than Aoife’s.

Then a massive gold dragon took off over the rooftops.

Cyrus was arrogant, but he was also a coward. He’d try to run the moment the fight turned against him. We’d planned for that. I was done waiting.

“Open fire!”