A Scale of Sapphire

Willow

My footing was less secure than I would’ve liked, and with every beat of his wings, Cyrus generated torrents of wind that threatened to fling me off, but at least from this position the angels couldn’t come at me from below. I had an opportunity here. The two cherubim paused their assault as they pondered what to do, and I took the opportunity to work on a plan of my own.

Slowly and carefully, I began to pick my way across the dragon’s back, moving closer and closer to his left wing. He knew I was here, he kept craning his neck around trying to get a look at me, trying to line up his breath attack. Thankfully, he couldn’t bend far enough without dropping from the sky, but I still had to be careful, a sudden roll or particularly powerful pump of his wings could send me careening away, easy prey for the angels.

When I decided I’d gotten close enough to his wing, I hefted my angel sword and prepared to plunge it into his back. The angels reacted. They were out of time and they knew it. If they didn’t stop me, I’d start carving, and Cyrus would fall. In a flash, they popped into existence above me, one on either side, both striking at once, just like I hoped.

Nails were pounded into my skull as I let out all my magic at once, and the parasitic vines that were writhing across Cyrus’ wing lashed out faster than thought. In an instant, they’d pierced through the angel’s skin, sending dozens of roots into their circulatory systems. At the same time, they dug into Cyrus, drinking the nourishing, magical blood of angel and dragon all at once, and rooting the angels to the spot. Two quick strikes were all it took, the angels collapsed in a heap, dead.

There was no time to celebrate though, I had a dragon to ground. I took to the air once again, flying circles around the exhausted dragon. He tried to bite at me, to claw, to melt me in his golden flames, but nothing worked, and bit by bit, I sliced away at his wings until they were in tatters, until my potion began to wear off, until finally, he was forced to land.

We were in the woods, the village was nowhere in sight, but I trusted the others. Aoife could follow his scent. They’d find him before he recovered. As I shrunk back down to my original size, the sword became too much to bear, and it fell from my hands. I zipped up to a tree branch nearby. I figured I should keep an eye on him until the others got here. Plus, my head was killing me, and I’d probably pass out in the air if I tried to fly back. Not that it was easy to relax with a giant murderous reptile staring at me, but I did my best.

“You’re the one who gave her those wings, aren’t you?” He was trying to project bravado, his presence was still feebly trying to spark awe in me, but I wasn’t exactly impressed. His voice was hoarse and tired, his scales were covered in dried blood and greenery. It wasn’t the most imposing picture. “Congratulations to the happy couple, I’m sure Hell will make arrangements. Make sure you both burn together…”

“Throuple, actually, and we’re not planning on heading there any time soon. You, on the other hand…” I sat down. I was still wary, but I figured he was trying to save his strength for when an actual threat arrived. We both knew I was basically out of juice, but I was still nimble enough that it would take too much energy for him to kill me now, not when the others were on their way. “You’re a genocidal monster who hurt my girlfriends. You’re gonna die today, and nobody’s gonna cry for you.”

“No mercy, huh? How monstrous of you.”

Ugh.

“Don’t give me that shit, Cyrus. I have plenty of mercy. I’ve forgiven plenty, and I’ll forgive plenty more, but I don’t owe pity or tolerance or mercy to someone who has never shown any of the same. I don’t owe forgiveness to someone who isn’t sorry and never will be. If you survive today, you’ll just find new humans to subjugate and new monsters to kill, and if killing you is the only way to stop you, then it’s what we’re gonna do. That’s all there is to it.”

“It’s funny how you act like this is all a foregone conclusion.” Cyrus rose to his feet once again, stretching like a cat as he hissed out a sigh. “I’m going to survive this, I’m going to kill the moon, and then I’m going to take you and that stupid bull, and I’m going to inflict every suffering imaginable. That’s all there is to it.”

I could hear hoofbeats approaching fast. Cyrus probably heard them before me. That’s why he got up. They got closer and closer, and Cyrus took a deep breath, golden energy burbling in his throat. The first centaur entered the clearing, and Cyrus began to exhale.

Then he was dying.

One moment he was on his feet, tall and proud, ready to meet his opponents, the next he was laid out on the ground with dozens of new wounds covering his body, and a sapphire dragon gripping his throat tightly with her jaws.

She looked like a mess. Her wings were practically ashes, she was lined with cuts and gashes, and it looked like she’d chipped a couple teeth biting into him, but she was alive, and she was here, and she was bearing him to the ground. She was clutching the angel sword I’d dropped in one of her claws and had jammed it into his neck.

Then the centaurs joined in, with Erica right behind. They circled around him, several gathering near his head, several more around his chest, and still others grouped up behind him. As one, they plunged their blades into him. Cyrus managed one choked gasp.

“F-fuck…”

Then his eyes closed for the last time.