Dragonsbane (Dragonsbane Duology Book I)

Chapter 59: The Last of the Line

Fomoria strained against the endless barrage of fire.

The flames were not burning her skin but she was having difficulty breaking through just from the sheer force of the combined breaths. She was pushed back off her feet into the sky and the dragons that were able took to the sky and did battle with the witch as embers danced around them with the lightning and sudden rain.

***

The monster that had once, or always been, Gab Harnair was tossing Larian's soldiers aside like ragdolls, cracks and groans rang louder than steel in the deluge. 

Massive hailstones melded with the other pieces of the falling sky. 

The King withstood and rolled out of the way of several swipes but soon met the same fate as his men and landed upon the scarred stones with a groan. Gab went in for the kill, Larian thrusted his blade upwards but it didn't find a home, it only bounced off of the monster's thick and coarse outer shell.

Had he known the monster's true identity he never would have, but after avoiding its massive fist he ordered his men to retreat back towards the castle.

Few followed.

Few were left.

***

Reav opened his eyes, wheezing, and gazed upon the elemental storm in the blackened sky.

He couldn't fly, he knew that was certain, and he could only breathe with effort. With what little strength he had left he dragged himself using his strong frontal arms to a secluded spot in the ruins. He resigned himself to die in peace, but Maev and Mindin were soon with him. He thought about telling them to leave, but their presence brought him some comfort so he fell in silence.

"Time is short," he coughed.

Mindin was especially emotional at the sight of him. Maev looked upon him with the eyes of one who had learned to dull her emotions over many long years of pain and torment.

"You have to fight, we need you! Don't give up!" Mindin cried.

Reav turned to her with a gleam in his eyes, a fondness even in his suffering was visible. "It is acceptance child, not surrender. I will see my ancestors soon..."

The usual deep, loud, and menacing breath of the wyrm was like that of a sick child, and in his final moments, Maev and Mindin made him comfortable like one.

 When his sharp wheezing ceased forever, they spoke the words, gave him his funeral rights, and his spirit emerged vibrant and strong from his body and flew to the sky. It was a spectacle that froze even the witch. Everyone stopped momentarily to see a moment of beauty amid the carnage and death.

***

Maev and Mindin challenged the witch themselves and the others cleared a path to allow the personal battle.

Mother and daughter attacked side by side. Mindin let loose her fire while Maev tried to catch Fomoria in her jaws. 

Mindin was cast aside in a mere moment, sent spiraling to the earth with wings ablaze. In the split second Fomoria was unaware Maev captured her between her teeth. The other dragons watched in awe as she flew straight upwards and then with a quick turn dove for the ground intending to slam her into it.

With a ferocious growl, born of anger, Maev put the witch into the ancient stones. Dust plumed outwards from the place of impact and did not clear for a long while. 

There was silence. 

The hail stopped, as did the lightning. There was only a light drizzle.

When the dust cleared Maev was there, with some difficulty she stood and wobbled but quickly regained her strength and let out a triumphant call. Soon they had all joined in and their calls undoubtedly reached the heavens. If they did, no god intervened when there was a sound like the tearing of leather.

Maev fell suddenly, quietly, a gaping wound formed in her skull, and Fomoria rose from it drenched in the blood of the last lord. 

Before there could be any retaliation, before the cries of terror could turn into action, Fomoria shouted a spell, the blood danced around her until it formed into a vortex that ensnared and encased her.

The dragons charged with fury, but the witch had grown in power, she threw the massive creatures aside like her monster had done to men, only she seemed to do so with just her mind, her gaze with eyes like ruby gems. 

She killed them, she killed dozens in a matter of a moment with staggeringly powerful magical spearing attacks. The blood was drawn to her, to her aura, every death made her stronger, and she reached to the sky as she had upon her awakening.

Her bolts of lightning initially only pierced the clouds, parting the clouds in the gray canvas to reveal the natural blue synonymous with warmth. A small tear formed right above her, in the sky, golden tendrils seeped through like a creature that had been trapped was trying to drag itself to freedom. She did not relent.

She was going to face Adran Crann.

She was going to take his throne in the golden world.

***

Mindin finally turned away from her mother, she did not wish to remember her the way she currently was. She felt the rage of her kin still seeking vengeance but they were blinded by it, and she had to save as many as she could. 

She tried to assert her command with her strongest roar but still they flew for the witch. She tried the next thing that came to mind. She pushed them back, flamed their paths and soon a dozen finally paused long enough to see reason.

She told them to follow the human king, and when they caught up with his also diminished force, she offered him her wing, he climbed aboard and they flew to the east, looking back momentarily to see the wound in the sky tear further.