WARNING: Implied suicide attempt
I had grown up learning things. I had been taught. I knew that I didn't know everything. I knew that some things were unknown. The knowledge out of my grasp; out of everyone's grasp. There were topics that I had no knowledge about. And there were topics I was knowledgeable of.
I knew what magic was. It was a type of energy that was generally split into two subcategories. There was spiritual energy – often known as mental energy – and physical energy. The two energies worked together and were closely related. Magic, I knew, could only be used if a being was able to influence it to get it to do what they wanted. And that ability depended on the amount of spiritual energy one had. Magic was always flowing, always existing, forever changing. It was mainly controlled by language, which helped focus one's intent.
Like most dragons, I had been taught that we have a close connection with our spiritual energy, and so had a large magic pool. It was a given that all dragons had the ability to use magic. Although it manifested it different ways and that was what a dragon's power was – the manifestation of their magic. Humans, on the other hand, used magic in its pure form.
Spiritual energy formed the bond between a dragon and rider. The bond between a dragon and rider was a connection of souls and minds – but not spirit – and affected both the dragon and the rider. It gave humans the ability to use magic, if they didn't already have the ability, and be able to mentally contact their dragon. It allowed dragons to transform from dragon to human, and mentally talk to their rider. Sometimes it had other effects. No one knew why a bond formed or how any of it worked.
Still, I had questions. Why did it exist? What was its purpose? What decided to connect two souls and minds? Could you remove it? Would it always existed? pAiN
I had questions and with so much time to myself, I couldn't help but think of the answers. Think about what I might be able to do. What Mark would be able to do; if he would still be able to hurt me. I wondered because it was all I could do, because I knew I had nothing else to do. I wondered because a fight laid in my future and it would be the hardest fight I'd ever partaken in. I wondered because I couldn't stop.
I wondered because sometimes you never know what might happen. I wondered because sometimes you don't get a choice. I wondered because I wanted to make things right.
***
The wall behind me creaked and groaned. I whirled around, chains clattering. I straightened myself so I looked bigger and watched the wall with cautious eyes as it continued to make loud sounds, before slowly – ever so slowly – shifting upwards. I bared my teeth at the dark hallway, but was unable to move due to the blasted chains.
I spun around once again at the sound of a door opening. A human came in, barely looking at me as they wandered closer before stopping. They didn't meet my eyes as they stared at the chains for a moment, before lifting their hands and speaking. "Opnask austvegr læsa," they said quietly. The chains loosened and opened with a click. I roared and pulled on my fire, already turning on the human – because they weren't on my side. They couldn't be on my side if they were only springing this now. Besides, no one would save me. Only the dragons knew that I was on their side. The human started speaking again, but this time I looked passed their human form and to their glowing energy which was rising within them, harsh and – it looked painful. This person was not an ally.
The open tunnel – I was meant to go down there. There was no other option. The plan – it had to be now! I was going to free the others. They would finally be free. I was going to redeem myself. I glared at the human, but they were already leaving. For a moment, I hesitated, something telling me to look closer at this human, look at their eyes, look at them, see them – but then I was running, paws pounding as I ran down the inclined tunnel.
Adrenaline pulsated in my veins like some kind of beat that I was marching to. The darkness consumed my vision, and I focussed on putting one paw in front of the other. I couldn't see anything that surrounded me, but I kept moving forward – it was all I could do, and so I did it.
A pinprick in the distance – light of some kind. I picked up my pace, fire roaring through my body, and with each step I took, the vibration rolled up my leg and it was my strength. This was what I had – strength. The light grew bigger and I wondered how long I had been running – wondered whether this was all a lie and just some twisted illusion.
As I neared the exit, I thought about my choices. I could either continue running out – do something that would send a message – or I could halt by the exit point and check my surroundings. That would be the smarter option. My position required me to think first, except... Except sometimes you needed to send a message. Sometimes you needed to act on impulse.
I skidded to a halt in the large arena – larger than any I had been in before – sand kicking up around me. I found Mark in the audience; well, not quite in the audience, but an onlooker. Someone watching. I roared, loudly, and this was my challenge. It was all I had left to say to Mark.
Mark barely glanced at me, but it didn't matter – it didn't! I didn't care. There were other dragons coming into the arena, some – like me – raced in, showing their strength and doing their best to intimidate others. We all knew what was going to come. Others hesitated on the edges and skittered in like prey.
There were roughly thirteen dragons in the arena when there was a rumbling sound and metal portcullises slammed down, separating the shadowed tunnels from the arena. I narrowed my eyes and sent a stream of fire down the tunnel, watching as it lit the tunnel before slamming into a stone wall and dying.
We were locked in the arena, meant to battle for our lives. We had been conditioned for this, to fight to the death, to fight until there was only one survivor. Mark hadn't bet on the fact that we would think past this though, that we would find something else to fight, that we would plan and that they would escape. Mark had forgotten to think about the underdog in this fight – and that would be his mistake.
We were going to win this.
I looked around again, but this time I didn't focus on what was in the arena, but rather what was around it. The arena opened up into the sky, like the other ones had, complete with chains criss-crossing like a net. There were stands along half of the circular arena, wooden and crowded with people. The few top rows had people wearing finery in bright colours and jewellery that gleamed and glittered. The other rows had common folk, wearing dusty travel clothes with sun-browned skin with hard faces and lean bodies. These people knew what survival was like – but they were here for a reason, and I would forever hold that against them. They were here to view us as entertainment.
There would be entertainment, but I doubted they would see it as such.
The other side of the arena was flat ground for a few metres, stone of some kind. The arena was constructed on the top of a building, and it reminded me of a castle with its high-rising towers of stone. I guessed that the flat stone area was made for dragons to land on.
"Opposite the crowd," Seeryath roared, and I knew it was Seeryath with how everyone heeded to her call. I glanced at Mark and bared my teeth at him, grinning because this was their escape, this was Mark's failure. This was his loss. This was our battle won!
I spun and raced towards the chains were the metal was already glowing bright-bright-bright red-red-red, slowly turning orange to yellow to white. It gave off its own light – but it did not give. I added my own fire, my own strength, to the other dragons' flames as we tried our best – desperate with hope and fear – to melt the iron so we could escape. However...
However, it wasn't melting, wasn't bending to our wills. We were failing and the metal wasn't getting any hotter – it wasn't working! We weren't escaping we were just failing. Failure here would result in nothing but torture and death. They couldn't fail here and I wouldn't let them – I had an oath to keep. And I was going to keep it. I refused to break my own promise to myself.
Movement in my peripheral made me turn, giving up on the fire and trying to think-think-think-THINK. Mark was racing around, feet propelling him forward as he sprinted around the arena, trying his best to reach us. We needed to move before he got here.
Fear surged in me like a monstrous storm. It grasped my heart and sent it stuttering, sent my breathing from something to steady to something irregular and heaving. I wasn't going to fail here – I was not!
I pulled up everything that was in me, pulled on everything I was, and sent a wave of fire towards the metal. The fire in my bones and muscles and body drained, leaving me exhausted and cold and shaking, but the metal was melting and melting quickly – dropping and dripping. We could leave!
"Go! Quick!" Seeryath ordered from behind the group. "Hide and stay safe!" The humans were quickly falling into chaos as the dragons fled, but making sure to leave their mark behind in some way. The stands burned.
I was third out, knowing that Mark was getting too close for comfort. My claws slid across the floor uselessly, offering me no purchase on the stupid stone. There was a thought flickering in the back of my mind. One that had been there for a while. I had been trying to avoid it. Avoid what it meant. Mark shouted something, energy lighting up brightly in preparation and I knew that he was using magic.
I swallowed and pulled on a power I had thought I had lost. A power that I hoped I had lost because of what it meant. A power I hoped I hadn't lost for the help it would offer here.
Power
The magic blasted above my head.
flowed
My chest heaved as I panted.
and
My heart hurt.
I
It hurt.
was
Scars and scars and scars and weapons – that was all I was.
human!
Time seemed to resume itself around me, speeding up, and then Mark was in front of me. My sword was in my hand, blade clean and sharply contrasting my own scarred skin. I bared my teeth at Mark but didn't speak. Mark drew his own sword and we clashed.
"Looks like you can't be rid of me," Mark said, laughter in his voice, and I had no reply, no response, no taunt. There was nothing I could say.
I smirked, because I had beaten Mark and here I was, proving it. "Looks like you're still a failure." I was forced to step back beneath the strength of Mark's next attack, but after two steps, I regained my position and refused to take another step.
Mark paused, and glanced around. "Twelve dragons isn't really failing, if anything it's proof that I've already succeeded. My enemies are dead. There is nothing that these useless, powerless dragons can do."
Successful. Successful. Successful. The words chanted in my head, circling, echoing. "Your enemies are not dead," I snarled back, and there was a loud roar from behind Mark. Seeryath stood, wings outstretched and head lifted to the sky – this was her second challenge, her escape, her strength, her life. This was her win.
As we watched, her scales rippled and changed colour from green to blue. "You-!" Mark cut himself off and whirled around, attacking me with new fervour. "You knew," Mark shouted at me furious.
"You failed," I threw back just as passionately, and then words were lost amongst the sounds of battles, of screaming, of dragons fleeing, of dragons escaping.
Mark's sword flashed in the light and I sidestepped, deflecting the blow by slanting my sword, and responded with a swift slash. Mark parried the blow, stepping into it before it could get any real momentum. I blocked his next attack, grimacing as the edges of the blades collided, chipping the metal. Mark pulled back, and his gold-hilted sword came down in an overhead strike. I could block such a blow, or at least try, but I had once been told that the best defence is simply not being there.
I moved my weight into my heels and let myself overbalance, falling backwards. I curled my legs inward and let my own motion send me into a backwards roll before standing up. I didn't bother giving Mark any time to recover – he probably already had – and charged forward, striking out in a sideways thrust. Mark blocked the blow – he should've dodged that – and responded with a heavy backhand. I slipped around the sword, knowing how much danger I was in due to the lack of scalesarmourscales.
Mark attacked again and I ducked beneath the shoulder-high cut, before kicking out with my leg. Mark leapt over the attack, but I upped the pressure whilst he was still in the air, rapidly shifting from crouching to standing with my sword extended. Mark was forced to dodge this time, unable to block. Then both paused, watching each other with guarded eyes, studying each other, searching for weaknesses, searching for a way to win. A heartbeat passed. Then we were moving again, the battle continuing in a flurry of movements and frenzied attacks and desperate blocks.
I grinned despite it all, because this is something that Mark has yet to take from me. This hadn't yet been ruined for me. I matched Mark, blow for blow, parry for parry, attack for attack, defence for defence – and it was good. It was good. Because Mark had always been the better swordsman, always been the better fighter when I'm two-legs-two-arms and not four-legs-two-wings-fire-flame-armour-scales. There had always been something separating us, but right now there wasn't. Right now, we are matched – and, right now, that was a win.
The sword clattered on the ground, fallen from my hand, the hilt callously twisted from my grasp in a manoeuvre I have no defence against. I stare at Mark. I know that I'm not in the best condition, but that fight had seemed to take so little from him and so much from me – did he not even try? Was he so confident in his success that he didn't bother? Surely not, surely not... But... But.
I glanced around and finally noted that all the dragons had gone. They had left me like they were meant to. Good. Good.
"Looks like they've left you all behind," Mark told me, tauntingly, and I managed to let a weak laugh escape my heaving lungs.
"Or maybe that was the plan," I replied, and then I was spinning around and sprinting – sprinting towards the edge of the roof. Maybe there wasn't anything below it, but maybe there was. Either way, it didn't matter. I was here, wingless, grounded, and I refused to be captured again I was going to win no matter what. I had helped the others escape – and now all that was left was my own. I could only think of one very easy way that would let me escape.
I flung myself over the side of the building and didn't bother hoping.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm sorry, but I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF SCREAMING.
The chapter title, I just wrote it, and I'm- Emotional draining, perhaps, foreshadowing, perhaps, but existing, yes.
(What do you think of the ending?)
(Can you believe there are only two plot points left in this)
(Can you believe that?)
Okay so, the first 500 or so words wasn't originally planned, but then I had some reveals - or subtle reveals - to do and I thought I'd go back and give a refresh about magic and dragons and their powers and -----.
And then, what should appear but a human! One of Mark's humans, one of his followers, but - and that's the thing, there is a but here. There are stories here, and I want you to remember that Mark's followers are humans and beings and have their own stories and, well, I have plans (good ones, this time, I swear - good for everyone involved and they should all survive; I haven't written it yet, so I make no promises).
I'd like to point out that a lot of Thirak's attention is on Mark - and for a host of reasons. It's kind of unnatural but for a pair who had such a strong bond, despite its deterioration, it's expected I suppose. And to those who are wondering about Thirak and his fire - you'll have to wait some time to understand everything about Thirak.
I really loved when Thirak turned human and it is so heartbreaking. There are a lot of realisations and acknowledgements that occur there, underlying factors and reasons, and none of it is good for Thirak, but Thirak shoves this new knowledge away, boxes it up and locks it down. This is not good or healthy. It is Bad.
Also, please note when Thirak refers to everyone as 'us' and 'they' and 'we'. Those different pronouns are important because it subtly reveals a lot about how Thirak views himself.
The fight - the sword fight - was pretty had to write, because I felt like all the fights are similar, all the same, and then I changed things around with Thirak's perspective and his backward roll.
I hope you like the ending.
This is SilentSilverSlip/Gabby heading on out; I hope you enjoyed this!
Edited: 1/02/2021