Part CXVII: The Flight of the Elder Dragon
Date: Kapton 22nd, 114 A.U.
“That is the Elder Dragon,” Freglak said. Reynyagn stepped forward as he saw the dragon cycling through the sky—the long green body that swooped behind it—the flaring long ears that cycled behind it—the scales that rippled in the sun as it now turned—and the glaring red eyes of destruction and revenge.
“To think that you could have thought to tame such a menace…” Reynyagn whispered. “You can never tame a dragon. Not forever.” The dragon turned, blasting fire as he came down to make his second lunge at the palace.
“We don’t have much time!” Monty exclaimed. “We have to stop him!”
“Then stop him we will,” Reynyagn said, leaping forward as he dashed across the room toward the broken windows, uncoiling the Arglem as the dragon flew toward him. The two met at the windows, the dragon blasting through the shattered glass as Reynyagn swerved to the slide, swinging the Arglem as he was met by a blast of heat.
“Move!” Zarien yelled, leaping to the side as he drew his gun. Number 994 sent a barrage of lighting at the dragon whose tail swept through the room even as Flek, though well-aware of his lost abilities, drew his arjla corsha blades as he leapt for the receding tail of the Elder Dragon. Catching up just in time, Flek grabbed onto a spike as the Elder Dragon took off, smashing some of the supports in the room as it cycled back up into the heavens, Flek and Reynyagn still clinging onto it.
“Your day ends now!” Reynyagn roared from up ahead on the Elder Dragon, whipping the Elder Dragon with the Arglem. The corsha burnt, but failed to penetrate, the dragon’s scales. The Elder Dragon gave a roar, tossing and turning as Flek struggled to hold on, as it dueled with Reynyagn up ahead. Slowly, his blades now sheathed, Flek struggled to climb up the dragon’s scales even as it began to descend for another attack on the palace.
The ceiling cracked and cracks rang out through the walls as Zarien dashed out of the room, the ceiling falling through behind them as they quickly made their exit, fires leaping up behind them, the last gifts of the Elder Dragon. The palace was collapsing around them as they quickly made through the corridors.
“To the left!” Lord Freglak yelled. “The barracks is that way! We need to organize the troops for combat!”
“I can work to repair any broken airships you might have!” Number 994 yelled. “If they have circuiting problems, that is! We need to get as many as possible up there to deal with the Elder Dragon!”
“Where’s Flek?” Astrid suddenly asked, noticing his disappearance.
“He grabbed onto the Elder Dragon as it left!” Zarien said. “Just keep moving! He’ll be able to fend for himself!”
Reynyagn gritted his teeth as the waves of fire blasted through him. Although immune to most fire, the fire of the Elder Dragon was searing-hot, reaching the intensity of the corsha blades, thus making him susceptible to their pain. It took a blade of extreme heat to kill a Sla’ad neglecting old age. But the fire of the Elder Dragon could be enough.
Moving to the side as he gripped the long ear of the Elder Dragon to hold on, Reynyagn whipped the Elder Dragon across the face as it gave a roar, diving low to the ground, as Reynyagn moved to the side, glancing back to see Flek behind him, struggling to climb up to meet him. Too late, as the Elder Dragon rolled, Reynyagn realized its intentions.
Reynyagn hit ground, body colliding with the ground as he was ripped off his hold, slamming into the dirt as the Elder Dragon flew back up in victory, having successfully toppled its first attacker. Reynyagn tasted dirt as he stood up to watch it fly back up into the sky.
The druid commander moved quickly with his men through the decomposing palace, holding their bows with their quiver of corsha arrows swung around their back, each of the arrow-heads dipped in poison. Their spy had placed a tracking device on Lord Freglak so that they could track him to the corridors. And they were closing in on him.
The wind rushed by his face as Flek flung himself forward, grasping the next spike as the Elder Dragon Roared, scorching a hapless goblin clinging to one of the trees. He had to stop this menace. But even when he had the Watcher dwelling within him, Flek hadn’t thought that he would have been able to stop this thing. Much less without his power.
He was now behind where the tips of its long ears ended. Flek looked up as the Elder Dragon began another descent to destroy the palace. He had to stop this thing. Moving forward, he waited as the Elder Dragon neared the palace. And then, releasing his grip on the dragon’s spike, he grabbed the ends of the ears with both ends and pulled—hard.
The Elder Dragon had not been expecting that. Flek was jolted back as the Elder Dragon was suddenly forced upwards, cracking its head on a battlement, causing it to screech in pain. Thinking on the fly, Flek moved his hands toward the right as hard as he could, causing the Elder Dragon to again smash into the palace, breaking through the glass into a hallway, now partially stunned by the sudden collisions.
Flek blinked as he shook his head, gaining focus just in time to see the Xavier Team skidding to a stop before him, before he suddenly realized the huge mistake he made. The Elder Dragon opened its mouth, ready to roast all of its victims with its breath of flame. Lord Freglak and the rest of the team threw themselves to the ground and to the side as, at the other end of the short hall, Flek noticed a group of goblin druids leaping out, shooting corsha arrows from their bows.
The ball of fire emitted from the Elder Dragon’s mouth missed its targets as it flew across them toward the goblin druid archers who had obviously not been expecting that. The arrows passed through the flames. And moments after the goblin archers were engulfed in flames, a volley of poisoned corsha arrows struck the Elder Dragon, one zipping into its nostrils while another pierced its eyes.
The Elder Dragon roared, slamming its head across the ceiling, causing plaster to rain down from it, as Flek leapt off, drawing his arjla corsha blades to finish the job. But the deed was already done. The Elder Dragon shook, its eyes glaring vehemently in its death throes, as it wrenched itself out of the hall, taking one last faltering flap with its wings, before its eyes rolled back and fell from the skies.
The Elder Dragon was dead.
Date: Kapton 22nd, 114 A.U.
“That is the Elder Dragon,” Freglak said. Reynyagn stepped forward as he saw the dragon cycling through the sky—the long green body that swooped behind it—the flaring long ears that cycled behind it—the scales that rippled in the sun as it now turned—and the glaring red eyes of destruction and revenge.
“To think that you could have thought to tame such a menace…” Reynyagn whispered. “You can never tame a dragon. Not forever.” The dragon turned, blasting fire as he came down to make his second lunge at the palace.
“We don’t have much time!” Monty exclaimed. “We have to stop him!”
“Then stop him we will,” Reynyagn said, leaping forward as he dashed across the room toward the broken windows, uncoiling the Arglem as the dragon flew toward him. The two met at the windows, the dragon blasting through the shattered glass as Reynyagn swerved to the slide, swinging the Arglem as he was met by a blast of heat.
“Move!” Zarien yelled, leaping to the side as he drew his gun. Number 994 sent a barrage of lighting at the dragon whose tail swept through the room even as Flek, though well-aware of his lost abilities, drew his arjla corsha blades as he leapt for the receding tail of the Elder Dragon. Catching up just in time, Flek grabbed onto a spike as the Elder Dragon took off, smashing some of the supports in the room as it cycled back up into the heavens, Flek and Reynyagn still clinging onto it.
“Your day ends now!” Reynyagn roared from up ahead on the Elder Dragon, whipping the Elder Dragon with the Arglem. The corsha burnt, but failed to penetrate, the dragon’s scales. The Elder Dragon gave a roar, tossing and turning as Flek struggled to hold on, as it dueled with Reynyagn up ahead. Slowly, his blades now sheathed, Flek struggled to climb up the dragon’s scales even as it began to descend for another attack on the palace.
The ceiling cracked and cracks rang out through the walls as Zarien dashed out of the room, the ceiling falling through behind them as they quickly made their exit, fires leaping up behind them, the last gifts of the Elder Dragon. The palace was collapsing around them as they quickly made through the corridors.
“To the left!” Lord Freglak yelled. “The barracks is that way! We need to organize the troops for combat!”
“I can work to repair any broken airships you might have!” Number 994 yelled. “If they have circuiting problems, that is! We need to get as many as possible up there to deal with the Elder Dragon!”
“Where’s Flek?” Astrid suddenly asked, noticing his disappearance.
“He grabbed onto the Elder Dragon as it left!” Zarien said. “Just keep moving! He’ll be able to fend for himself!”
Reynyagn gritted his teeth as the waves of fire blasted through him. Although immune to most fire, the fire of the Elder Dragon was searing-hot, reaching the intensity of the corsha blades, thus making him susceptible to their pain. It took a blade of extreme heat to kill a Sla’ad neglecting old age. But the fire of the Elder Dragon could be enough.
Moving to the side as he gripped the long ear of the Elder Dragon to hold on, Reynyagn whipped the Elder Dragon across the face as it gave a roar, diving low to the ground, as Reynyagn moved to the side, glancing back to see Flek behind him, struggling to climb up to meet him. Too late, as the Elder Dragon rolled, Reynyagn realized its intentions.
Reynyagn hit ground, body colliding with the ground as he was ripped off his hold, slamming into the dirt as the Elder Dragon flew back up in victory, having successfully toppled its first attacker. Reynyagn tasted dirt as he stood up to watch it fly back up into the sky.
The druid commander moved quickly with his men through the decomposing palace, holding their bows with their quiver of corsha arrows swung around their back, each of the arrow-heads dipped in poison. Their spy had placed a tracking device on Lord Freglak so that they could track him to the corridors. And they were closing in on him.
The wind rushed by his face as Flek flung himself forward, grasping the next spike as the Elder Dragon Roared, scorching a hapless goblin clinging to one of the trees. He had to stop this menace. But even when he had the Watcher dwelling within him, Flek hadn’t thought that he would have been able to stop this thing. Much less without his power.
He was now behind where the tips of its long ears ended. Flek looked up as the Elder Dragon began another descent to destroy the palace. He had to stop this thing. Moving forward, he waited as the Elder Dragon neared the palace. And then, releasing his grip on the dragon’s spike, he grabbed the ends of the ears with both ends and pulled—hard.
The Elder Dragon had not been expecting that. Flek was jolted back as the Elder Dragon was suddenly forced upwards, cracking its head on a battlement, causing it to screech in pain. Thinking on the fly, Flek moved his hands toward the right as hard as he could, causing the Elder Dragon to again smash into the palace, breaking through the glass into a hallway, now partially stunned by the sudden collisions.
Flek blinked as he shook his head, gaining focus just in time to see the Xavier Team skidding to a stop before him, before he suddenly realized the huge mistake he made. The Elder Dragon opened its mouth, ready to roast all of its victims with its breath of flame. Lord Freglak and the rest of the team threw themselves to the ground and to the side as, at the other end of the short hall, Flek noticed a group of goblin druids leaping out, shooting corsha arrows from their bows.
The ball of fire emitted from the Elder Dragon’s mouth missed its targets as it flew across them toward the goblin druid archers who had obviously not been expecting that. The arrows passed through the flames. And moments after the goblin archers were engulfed in flames, a volley of poisoned corsha arrows struck the Elder Dragon, one zipping into its nostrils while another pierced its eyes.
The Elder Dragon roared, slamming its head across the ceiling, causing plaster to rain down from it, as Flek leapt off, drawing his arjla corsha blades to finish the job. But the deed was already done. The Elder Dragon shook, its eyes glaring vehemently in its death throes, as it wrenched itself out of the hall, taking one last faltering flap with its wings, before its eyes rolled back and fell from the skies.
The Elder Dragon was dead.
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