The Ballad Of A Semi-Benevolent Dragon - Chapter 49: The Dragon Greets A Friend
The land below Doomwing was a reflection of its ruler – a vast, seemingly endless expanse of molten rock that dwarfed even the volcanic region in his own territory. Towering pillars of basalt, obsidian, andesite, and rhyolite jutted up toward the sky like the fangs of some titanic beast. Great, glowing rivers of lava cut through the landscape, the molten blood of the world pouring from countless wounds.
The skies were filled with fliers, from drakes and wyverns to lizards that used flaps of skin between their limbs to glide and snakes that used huge frills to catch the columns of hot air that rose up from the molten landscape. Reptiles of every size could be found on the ground as well, from colossal serpents and hill-sized tortoises to small geckos and hardy lizard-people.
The entire region was actually a single enormous super volcano, one that Ashheart had bent to his will long ago when he had first settled there. He had made his lair atop the centre of the super volcano, and the nexus of all the region’s many currents of magic was directly beneath his lair. That was the prize Kagami had sought at the end of the Sixth Age.
Had Doomwing’s trap succeeded, he would have trapped her in Ashheart’s lair and then forced the super volcano to erupt. Despite all of the power she had already gained by that point, even she would have been unlikely to survive. And even if she did survive, she would have been weakened enough that Doomwing should have been able to finish her off.
Unfortunately, she had proven exceedingly cunning. Doomwing had been forced to blow up Ashheart’s lair in a bid to keep her from escaping, but she had still managed to slip away. He had been able to keep the super volcano from erupting needlessly, but it had not been easy. Nevertheless, the currents of magic in the area had been badly damaged, and he had been in no condition to fix them after the final battle against Kagami.
The remains of his trap were clearly visible from the air. Instead of Ashheart’s lair, there was a perfectly circular crater that was ten miles wide. To his magical senses, it was like staring at a hole in the world. When he had realised that Kagami was escaping, he had turned all of the power from the magical currents that met beneath Ashheart’s lair inward, forcing a collapse that had been followed by a huge explosion. It had not been as powerful as making the super volcano erupt, but it had been quicker – and time had been of the essence with Kagami in the midst of making her getaway.
In the end, Kagami had escaped, and Doomwing had been left with little to show for his efforts. Even now, he couldn’t help but be impressed by how Kagami had been able to find a way through all of his imprisonment and binding magic. Some of it had been brute force, but a lot of it had come down to talent, cunning, and careful study of his methods.
Waiting for him in that crater were Ashheart, Adamantheart, and Diamondfang.
Doomwing landed near them. For a long moment, nobody said anything. Instead, Ashheart’s molten gaze drifted over the crater as if picturing the lair he had lost. It wasn’t often that Doomwing felt small, but Ashheart was half again as long as he was and far bulkier besides. It wouldn’t surprise him if the other dragon weighed twice what he did, maybe even more.
“You really blew up my lair,” Ashheart rumbled. “Hearing it is one thing, but seeing it… and your opponent survived this?”
“She was able to escape.” Doomwing paused. “In truth, had I succeeded in trapping her here, I had planned to force an eruption of the super volcano.”
Ashheart stared. “She must have been formidable indeed to warrant such extreme measures.”
“She was,” Doomwing said. “She was extremely cunning and gifted when it came to matters of strategy and tactics. Her only weakness was her lack of power, and she found ways to remedy that.”
“I see.” Ashheart nodded. He moved forward, and his mate and his son retreated. “It has been an Age since we last met face to face.”
“It has,” Doomwing replied.
The other dragon’s eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t sound as though you’ve allowed yourself to get lazy, but I have always prized actions over words.” He bared his teeth. “Show me what you’ve learned since the last time we fought!”
And with a roar that shook the earth and sky, Ashheart lunged.
When Regal Flame had learned of what had happened to Doomwing at the end of the Sixth Age, she had immediately offered Diamondfang and Adamantheart sanctuary in her territory. Doomwing was in no condition to protect them, and Ashheart had enemies who would gladly take advantage of his and Doomwing’s absence to strike at the pair.
However, she had underestimated the impact of Doomwing’s actions against Soulseeker. Even with the other primordial dragon sleeping for a century at a time, none dared to threaten Ashheart’s mate and son. At some point, Doomwing’s injuries would be healed, and when they were, he would go looking for Diamondfang and Adamantheart. If something had happened to them, there was no telling just how terrible his rage would be.
It was entirely possible that what he would do to those responsible would make what had happened to Soulseeker seem merciful.
Even so, Regal Flame had entrusted the other female dragon with a rare item that allowed her to call upon Regal Flame from anywhere in the world and to share what she perceived with Regal Flame as well. No intelligent person who enjoyed living would dare to harm them, but there were fools who cared more for pride or revenge than their own survival. If worse came to worst, Diamondfang could call for aid, and Regal Flame would deal with the situation herself.
Diamondfang had never had cause to use that item, so when she activated it, Regal Flame had been prepared for the worst. As far as she knew, Diamondfang and Adamantheart were with Ashheart. For Diamondfang to use the item – there had to be another primordial dragon involved, for only another primordial dragon could pose such a threat to Ashheart that calling for help was necessary. But who could it be? Ashheart was supposed to be fully healed, but even at half strength, there were few who would choose to face him willingly. He was simply too dangerous, and any attack on him was bound to draw Doomwing’s attention.
Regal Flame was still running through all of the possibilities in her mind when the hazy image from the item grew clear. Her eyes widened, and found herself staring at the image in awe as her followers swiftly gathered to watch alongside her. After all, it wasn’t every day that two primordial dragon fought.
Especially when those two primordial dragons were Doomwing and Ashheart.
Ashheart was much as Regal Flame remembered him – absolutely enormous and built more like a living mountain than a dragon. His scales were a mesmerising mix of browns,blacks, reds, yellows, and oranges, and the volcanic glow that emanated from within him cast baleful light upon the walls of the crater where he and Doomwing fought.
For all of Ashheart’s awesome size, it was his unexpected speed and skill that were his greatest weapons. He could move far faster than a dragon his size should be able to, and he had an exquisite grasp of both his own strengths and his own weaknesses. He was no lumbering brute, capable of nothing more than wild swings and desperate blows. He fought with a ruthless sort of cunning, moving to box his foes in, so he could leverage his size and strength while mixing attacks that could instantly end the fight with blows designed to slow down and cripple his foes.
Many times, Regal Flame had seen Ashheart simply overwhelm his opponents, closing in on them with surprising speed and then dismantling them when they tried to use his own size and strength against him. On the occasions they had sparred, Regal Flame had swiftly realised how futile it was to face him in close quarters. He was simply too skilled in that arena, and he could not only deal far more damage than her but also absorb far more as well. Blows that would leave her broken and barely capable of fighting scarcely seemed to matter to him.
The smartest thing for Doomwing to do would be to take to the air and use his superior aerial mobility to keep his distance while bombarding Ashheart with magic.
Yet Doomwing did not do that.
To her disbelief, Doomwing did not try to retreat as Ashheart charged. Instead, he met him head on, scales flashing ruby and sapphire in the sun, a vivid contrast to the earthy, volcanic scales of his opponent.
The pair met with a sound that put thunder to shame, and the whole crater shook with the force of the impact. In an instant, Doomwing was on the backfoot, Ashheart’s superior bulk and strength driving him back, their claws, tails, and wings tearing huge furrows in the earth. Rather than face Ashheart’s strength head on, Doomwing pivoted, trying to throw Ashheart off balance.
The larger dragon gave a booming laugh as his own footwork – swift and graceful despite his size – let him keep his balance. But Doomwing was not done. His tail lashed out, coiling around Ashheart’s ankle and trying to trip him. Any other dragon would have fallen, but Ashheart was equal to the task. His own tail stabbed into the ground to keep him steady as he yanked his leg free and batted at Doomwing with his wings.
Regal Flame’s breath caught. Ashheart’s wings were mighty weapons. He was not the most agile flier, but his straight line speed was impressive, and lifting his massive body into the air must take incredible strength. There was no way that Doomwing could dodge. She knew it, and Doomwing knew it too. But rather than flinch from the blow or try to mount a futile defence, he chose to roll with the attack.
Doomwing was still thrown off balance, but he retaliated with his own wings, aiming at Ashheart’s face. For a moment, the larger dragon was blinded, and Doomwing ducked, heaving his whole body forward and driving his shoulder into Ashheart’s belly. Sparks flew as Doomwing’s smoother scales clashed against his opponent’s jagged scales. Ashheart skidded back, and then he was reaching down, his form bent almost double as he tried to catch Doomwing in his claws.
Doomwing saw the danger at once and managed to get clear, only for Ashheart’s tail to swing in like a mace. The attack caught Doomwing across the side, and there was enough force behind it to lift him off his feet and send him tumbling back. He righted himself quickly as Ashheart charged again, covering the gap between them with unbelievable speed.
The wall of the crater cracked as Ashheart slammed into it. Doomwing had just barely managed to dodge. Yet the impact did little to slow Ashheart down as he lashed out with his tail again before his claws flashed, tearing through the air with all the force of a hurricane. Rather than try to match Ashheart blow for blow, Doomwing gave ground, blocking and parrying when he had to, and looking for opportunities to sneak in blows of his own.
All around Regal Flame, her followers watched, murmurs running through the crowd as they tried to make sense of what they were seeing.
“Ashheart is winning,” one of her followers breathed. “I can’t believe Doomwing is losing.”
Regal Flame wanted to chastise the other dragon, but Frostfang cut in before she could say anything.
“Of course Doomwing is losing right now,” Frostfang replied. “He has yet to use his magic.”
A chill ran through Regal Flame. Frostfang was right. Doomwing had yet to use his magic. Instead, he and Ashheart were engaged in a contest of pure physical might. And although Ashheart was definitely winning, Doomwing was holding his own. But why wasn’t Doomwing using his magic? Unless…
Her eyes widened.
This was for Ashheart. The other dragon had been asleep inside a mountain for an entire Age. He was fully healed, but he had yet to test his abilities against an opponent of equal stature. Doomwing was giving him that chance. At the same time, this fight was also giving Doomwing a chance to see if Ashheart really was healed, or if his injuries were still slowing him down.
The two dragons stared at each other for a long moment, and then Ashheart flared his wings and stood to his full height. Thick cords of muscle rippled beneath his scales, and his broad chest swelled as he took a deep, deep breath. He smiled, and there was not a single dragon amongst Regal Flame’s followers whose breath did not catch when they saw that smile.
That was the smile of a warrior who no longer had to hold back.
Ashheart surged forward again, but he was faster this time and far more decisive. It was terrifying to realise just how much he had been holding back. His attacks were swifter, stronger, and aimed with even greater precision. The whole fight up until this point had simply been a warm up, a chance for him to stretch his legs and test his body. Now, at last, he was fighting in earnest.
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And Doomwing was losing.
It was obvious to anyone with eyes. The disparity in physical ability was simply too much. Blows shattered scales and left gashes, and it was all Doomwing could do to keep Ashheart from landing a fight-ending attack. And yet Doomwing was smiling, a bloody, savage smile. He was happy that Ashheart was strong, happy that Ashheart was fully healed and once again capable of overwhelming him in close combat.
And happy, perhaps, because he finally had an excuse to use magic.
There was a flash of light, and then seven separate fifteenth-order spells slammed into Ashheart at the same time. A maelstrom of otherworldly lightning and arcane light sent the tectonic dragon tumbling back as Doomwing traced a dozen greater runes and sent them sailing through the air toward his foe.
It was a mystical barrage that would have reduced a regular Fourth Awakening dragon to a bloody smear. Ashheart roared, and the ground heaved upward. Doomwing’s barrage was met with a huge wall of stone reinforced with Ashheart’s magic. The wall came apart in a shower of debris, but not before blunting Doomwing’s assault. With another roar, Ashheart bounded forward, wrapping himself in the remains of the wall and crafting a titanic-suit of dragon-shaped armour out of it.
Ashheart himelf was a mile and a half long, but with the armour on, he had grown to more than double his usual size. He lifted one enormous claw and brought it down on Doomwing – only to be met by a roar backed by telekinesis and a pair of ancient runes that reduced the armour to dust and then hurled it away. Not to be outdone, Ashheart seized control of the dust and flung it back at Doomwing, his magic turning it into a hail of rune-enhanced rocky devastation that sent plumes of debris flying into the air.
Doomwing himself was unharmed, a glowing barrier appearing to block the attack as he finally took to the air, his wings beating rapidly as he dared Ashheart to challenge him in the sky. Never one to back down, Ashheart followed, teeth bared in a smile that showed just how much he was enjoying the chance to fight a worthy opponent.
There was a sound like a mountain breaking apart as Ashheart drew his head back and unleashed a storm of lava breath. Doomwing banked and then spun, twisting through the air as he dodged the attack and replied first with flame and then with spells and runes that rearranged the landscape when they missed and drew blood and broke scales when they hit.
Ashheart’s lava breath might not seem particularly dangerous to a dragon, but Regal Flame had seen firsthand what it could do to the unwary. First and foremost, it was far hotter than lava should be. In fact, it was so hot that it shouldn’t even be liquid. Instead, it should be some kind of searing vapour. However, its liquid state made it even more devastating.
The lava would cling to those it hit, burning them and slowing them down as it hardened and cooled, making it more difficult for them to stay aloft. Ashheart could also control the lava, and she had seen him wrench other dragons out of the sky once they had been hit by enough of it. And even if he couldn’t pull them out of the sky, all he needed to do was to slow them down enough for him to hit them.
Ashheart might not be graceful in the air, but being rammed by a mile-and-a-half-long dragon would undoubtedly end almost any fight in his favour.
Doomwing was not a fool, and he knew Ashheart better than almost anyone, so he kept his distance and let his magic strike for him. The skies over the crater were lit by a dazzling display of arcane might as Doomwing began to combine techniques in a way that had Regal Flame longing to improve her own skills – and she was no slouch when it came to magic.
Grand alchemy was used to create a spear out of material that could amplify the effects of lightning magic before an ancient rune of lightning was combined with an ancient rune of target-seeking. The resulting weapon was propelled toward Ashheart using more runes and spells, all of them enhanced using charms made on the spot from more alchemy.
Ashheart laughed joyously as the projectile lanced toward him like the judgement of an angry god. Ancient runes of strength, lightning resistance, and magic suppression flared to life around his claws as he turned in the air and swung down with all his might. The spear struck his claws – and then streaked into the crater, where it exploded with terrible force.
As Ashheart unleashed another wave of lava breath, Doomwing tore the moisture from the clouds, surrounding Ashheart in a vast bubble of liquid before more magic crushed inward, increasing the pressure thousands and thousands of times over. Ashheart laughed again, and heat erupted from his scales. The water turned to steam, but Doomwing wove magic into the steam, turning into a mist designed to blind and confuse.
Ashheart wheeled about in the mist. Magic enhanced his senses, and a handful of simple but incredibly powerful detection and analytical spells rippled out from him. In the meantime, Doomwing had concealed himself with an ancient rune of stealth as he readied a more powerful attack. Unable to locate his foe, Ashheart opted for a direct but effective counter attack.
He ripped the walls of the crater apart and turned the skies over the crater into a whirlwind of shrapnel.
As well-hidden as Doomwing was, Ashheart could feel every speck of dust and every piece of rock or dirt. Hiding from him was impossible, even with an ancient rune of stealth. Chuckling ruefully, Doomwing dismissed the rune. There was no point in using it any further. Instead, he used his telekinesis to begin etching dwarven script onto all of the debris whirling around them before shoving as much as he could at Ashheart and then activating the dwarven script.
Regal Flame grinned.
The dwarves had always been fond of explosives.
The resulting explosion was such that it seemed, at least for a moment, that there was a second sun in the sky. When it cleared, Ashheart was still airborne, his eyes gleaming with delight as he studied the litany of wounds he had sustained. None were all that serious, but the fact that he had taken so many spoke to the impact of Doomwing’s magic.
“You’re still holding back,” Ashheart drawled.
“I have been using some ancient runes,” Doomwing drawled back, keeping a steady distance in the air.
“Bah! Those are far from the most powerful you have. Those are for playing around. I want to fight!”
“If we fight any more seriously, I might end up having to heal you again.” Doomwing chuckled. “And we still have to fix your lair. What are we going to do if either of us runs low on magic.”
Ashheart threw his head back and laughed. “Hah! You have a point. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your next appointment.”
Regal Flame steadfastly ignored the look that Firetail gave her at that remark.
Doomwing inclined his head. “It’s good to have you back, Ashheart.”
“It’s good to be back,” Ashheart replied. “And it’s nice to see you haven’t let yourself get rusty while I’ve been gone.”
“Rusty?” Doomwing laughed, and Regal Flame was struck by the simple joy in the sound. She wished she could hear it more often. “I’ve had to work twice as hard with you gone!” His voice softened. “Let’s try to avoid that happening again.”
“I’ll make no promises,” Ashheart replied. “I will do what must be done.” He bared his teeth again. “So we’ll just have to grow strong enough that sacrifices like that aren’t necessary.”
“Yes,” Doomwing replied quietly. “I suppose we will.”
The image cut off there, and Regal Flame said nothing. Instead, she savoured what she had seen. Doomwing and Ashheart had only been sparring semi seriously, yet it was still breathtaking to watch two absolute masters of their craft at work, especially when they had such different approaches to battle.
“Did you see that?” she asked, turning to her followers. “Those are the heights you should aspire to. If you think yourself a master of close combat, ask yourself how you compare to Ashheart. If you think yourself a master of magic, ask how you would fare against Doomwing.”
Regal Flame’s own fighting style was somewhere between the two since she boasted outstanding physical abilities and formidable magic. It had been a long time since she had sparred against Doomwing. She would have to insist upon it when he visited.
Glancing at Frostfang, she saw the young dragon who had accompanied him waving his claws in the air as he spoke in awe of what he had witnessed.
“Would you mind if we stayed for a few more days?” Frostfang said. “If we leave before getting a chance to speak to Doomwing, I don’t think Squallwing will ever forgive me.”
Regal Flame bit back a laugh. “Of course.”
Her mirth faded as she noticed more than a few of her female followers casting lingering looks back toward where the image had been. She gave a low, warning growl, and they slunk away sheepishly. Her eyes narrowed. She would have to keep a close eye on them, just in case any of them tried anything… foolish.
An amused chuckle caught her attention, and she glared at Frostfang. The winter dragon met her gaze evenly and then turned, practically carrying Squallwing off as he continued to rave about some of the magic he’d seen. At this rate, perhaps she should be more worried about the young dragon attaching himself to Doomwing like some kind of magic-seeking barnacle rather than other female dragons.
Doomwing was content. Even with his mirror and the scrying magic he could use through it, he had been worried that Ashheart was not truly healed. No longer. He had felt Ashheart’s strength himself and had tested it with tooth, and claw, and flame, and magic. His friend was healed. His mistakes had not left Ashheart weakened or crippled.
“That was a fine bout,” Ashheart said. “It is a pity we could not go further, but you are right. We need to fix my lair, and our more powerful attacks would leave us drained – and perhaps do permanent damage to this area.” Ashheart’s wounds were already healing, and it would not be long before no trace remained of them. “How shall we do this? You are the expert.”
Doomwing had considered the matter before arriving. “You can handle transforming the landscape. Your magic is much better for it than mine. However, we can repair the currents of magic together. You can do the larger-scale parts and leave the finer details to me. As for the defences, we can do that together as well. There are things you can do better than me, and things I can do that you cannot.”
“Oh?”
Doomwing briefly explained his ability to weave defences into the very currents of magic themselves.
“A potent ability indeed,” Ashheart mused. “Yes, I can see how useful it would be in an area like this. It would make my lair most secure. And I can see why you have not spoken too openly about it. Without forewarning, your enemies would be hard pressed to deal with it.”
“Precisely. The best defences are the ones your enemies do not know about.” Doomwing shifted slightly as the ground began to tremble. It was always impressive to watch his friend reshape the land. “By the way, Diamondfang, why did you activate that item of yours?”
He had noticed the female dragon activate the item just before he and Ashheart began their battle. From what he had been able to deduce, it allowed her to share what she perceived with others. He had been tempted to simply cut it off with his own magic, but then he had recognised the magic within the item. It belonged to Regal Flame, so she must have some good reason to use it.
“I thought she and her followers might be able to learn from your bout,” Diamondfang said smoothly. “After all, my mate is exceptional in close combat whilst you are exceptional with magic.”
“I see.” Doomwing could see the logic. “I shall have to speak to Regal Flame about it when I visit the plateau. She may have a few followers that could benefit from my instruction. She may even wish to spar since it is unlikely that any of her own followers can truly challenge her.”
“An excellent idea,” Diamondfang said. “You should definitely do that.”
Doomwing took to the air as the crater began to buckle upward. “Fixing your lair should only take us two or three days at the most,” he said to Ashheart. “And at least half of that time will be spent organising your hoard.”
“You brought my hoard?” Ashheart asked eagerly.
“Of course. It is exactly as you left it. It was tempting to organise it myself, but I know you have your own system.”
Ashheart nodded seriously because hoards were serious business. “Yes. I will explain it to you when we get to that part.”
