Here Be Dragons: Book 1 of the Emergence Series

The moment Vosae roared her declaration the beach exploded into action, the wings of twenty-eight dragons kicking up a veritable storm of sand. All those present were experienced enough to hold their breaths as they ascended, though none of them had ever flown so close to so many others before.

A few grunts hissed through the sandstorm before morphing into cries of pain. Ighnahr ignored them and backwinged as quickly as possible to put some distance between himself and the crowd, and a few frantic glances around himself revealed that the clan members seemed to gain their bearings a little faster than the allies of the humans – but an abrupt crack followed by a shriek of pain pierced through the falling sand, and Ighnahr caught a brief glance of Jooral standing over a fallen foe.

Several dragons could already be seen clawing away at one another, apparently deciding that ascending to a proper height wasn’t worth the effort, but Ighnahr scanned past them to lock eyes with a certain blue dragon.

«I must admit, I’m surprised that you’d try and duel me now, when you were too much of a coward to do it before. Did your horns finally come in?» Huroumh taunted.

Ighnahr flapped his wings and gritted his teeth. «I made a decision,» he hissed, ignoring the provocation.

«...is that so? Well, in any case, I have something to tell you,» Huroumh said, his voice raised above the din of battle. «Your ‘curse’ doesn’t exist. A human taught me that illness is caused by tiny creatures invading one’s body.» Huroumh paused, and stared straight into Ighnahr’s eyes. «On the day that you made Ahnngyr sick, your claws were simply unclean. That’s it.»

Ighnahr stared blankly, completely taken aback by this bizarre declaration. «...What?» he tried to demand, though it came out more like a statement.

«I fell ill after our last fight,» Huroumh went on to say, «I almost died…at least until a human cured me with his medicine; that is how I know he was right about the true nature of illness.»

«I..why are you…» Ighnahr stammered, completely taken aback by what he was hearing. «What use is there in telling me these lies?!» he finally spat. «You always were a fool, but I never thought you would ever resort to such tactics.»

Huroumh tossed his head, sighing in an audible huff. «Well, I don’t really care if you believe me or not; it’s my idiot friend who convinced me that you should know at least this much. Now, are we going to fight or not?»

Ighnahr took in a deep breath, and answered by throwing his wings back to lunge at his foe.

The instant the beach exploded into action Jooral lunged at the dragon closest to her – an unfortunate fellow by the name of Woinam – hooked her talons into his lower torso and dragged him back down to the ground. In a blink she had him pinned, and with a mighty wrench cleanly dislocated his shoulder. Given time Woinam might have been able to pop it back in, but he wouldn’t be able to immediately fly again – at least, not well enough to fight in the air.

«Yield,» Jooral demanded, twisting the dislocated limb when Woinam began to struggle. The teal male paused for a second, then nodded reluctantly, his limbs slumping in defeat.

«Jooral!»

The grey elder’s head snapped up in time to see her partner hurtle another dragon towards the ground, with just enough time for her to leap up, catch her target with her talons and throw the unfortunate dragon down upon the beach.

The dragon – whose name was Kalsak – hit the beach with a muffled thud, her desperately flared wings failing to stop her descent due to the tears that ran along their sides, courtesy of Ghorrah. The impact only stunned her for a brief period of time, but it was enough for Jooral to stomp the wind out of her opponent’s lungs with her own landing.

«Stay down,» she growled, though the wheezing dragon gave no indication of having heard her aside from curling up in pain. Above her, Ghorrah circled with Hakra and Manthk.

«I told those fools not to underestimate them,» Manthk groaned.

«I was reluctant to fight a foe so thoroughly outnumbered, but I suppose I need not have fretted,» Hakra rumbled.

«I’ve not heard of such a large battle in living memory,» Manthk muttered, «I don’t suppose there’s much sense in fighting one at a time, considering what’s at stake.»

«Hear me!» Vosae roared as she climbed high into the sky, the clan leader flanked by Wonta and Takan. «Stay cautious, let our numbers wear them down, and don’t forget who we’re dealing with!» Her orders tore through the sky, and the clan members immediately began to change tactics.

Ghorrah sighed. «Well, I suppose we should be glad that we took out two before they smartened up. Jooral, get ready for the next ones!»

Helsha struck swiftly, tearing a gash through the left wing membrane of Mithan, the foolish dragon who had gone after him right at the start of battle. Such a blow delivered with dull talons would have merely pushed the wing membrane away, but his newly sharpened talons sliced through the normally durable tissue with ease.

Of course, anyone could sharpen their talons with the right stones available, and Mithan’s glancing retaliatory strike confirmed his suspicion that the brewer clan had done exactly that. Still, the human tools made it possible to achieve greater heights of sharpness with very little difficulty, and it provided a not-insignificant advantage in their fight.

Now, with his foe’s agility restricted by the injury, Helsha was able to dance just out of range of Mithan’s not entirely uncoordinated swipes before capitalizing on any openings the frustrated dragon left behind. None of these attacks dealt major injuries, but each one only made the next easier to land, and his opponent was soon covered in wounds.

Helsha was just about to land a critical strike when he suddenly sensed someone above him, and immediately dropped like a stone – just barely managing to evade another dragon’s diving attack.

«I should’ve known a proper one-on-one was too much to hope for,» Helsha hissed as he recovered some of his lost altitude.

«I’m sorry, Helsha-ǂ, but this conflict is beyond us,» his ambusher – Opawi – said as he nodded apologetically. «The future of our land is at stake.»

«The humans are willing to hand us information that it took them millenia to collect,» Helsha growled. «Don’t bother with pretenses of nobility. You’re simply trying to secure your stunted future by sabotaging our own.»

«The future of our clan and the future of our kind are not at odds,» Mithan hissed through gritted teeth, «but I see that you will not be swayed. Prepare yourself.»

Helsha hadn’t had time to put himself back on equal altitude with Mithan and Opawi, and so he could only fly forth and meet them as the two dragons dove straight at him. With no safe options left, Helsha backwinged right before meeting his two foes, then grabbed Mithan’s left ankle with his own to yank the wounded dragon into the path of his ally.

Of course, Mithan didn’t stare blankly as Helsha used him as a living shield; the green-blue dragon clawed at his foe in return, resulting in a ranking gash along the herbalist’s left thigh.

Helsha had to bite back a hiss of pain, but instead of flinching he pressed the advantage by folding his wings and diving into the two dragons in an attempt to slam them onto the deck of the human ship.

His strategy had half-worked; Mithan could not escape Helsha’s grasp, and he crashed back-first against the unyielding surface. The wounded dragon’s head slammed into the deck, and his head and neck lolled limply before settling into place – clearly unconscious.

Unfortunately he hadn’t been able to secure his grip upon Mithan, who had wrenched himself free seconds before impact, allowing him to throw his wings open in the nick of time – his tail skimming off the surface of the ocean before he pulled up and away.

Helsha spared a moment to glance around, and saw Lakath standing guard over a few of the defeated clan members, apparently ensuring that they wouldn’t rejoin the fight. Above her, Nanzo scuffled against Untha, though even at a glance Helsha could tell that he fought in an oddly conservative manner – as if he were unwilling to stray too far from Lakath.

«Lakath, watch this one,» Helsha called out as he heaved Mithan over the edge of the ship, the insensate dragon landing belly-up on the beach with a muffled thud. He didn’t have time to acknowledge her reply, and had to leap back into the sky to face Opawi, who circled in the sky above with two more of his comrades.

Soon after the battle began the Twins found themselves facing Anzath and Igansa. The old couple were known for their formidable combat prowess, but the prospect of facing such a duo only fueled the Twins’ excitement.

At present, Karoth and Anzath viciously grappled with one another, neither of the two dragons able to gain a significant advantage over their opponent – both had one of the other's forelimbs locked in their grasp, which reduced their battle to snapping and kicking while flapping against one another to remain in the air.

Neither dragon was able to see how their allies fared, but from what Karoth could hear it seemed his twin was faring better than he was.

«Stay still!» Igansa growled as her latest swing just barely nicked Yantha’s scales.

«And what, let you tear my throat out? You must have smoke for brains!» Yantha cackled as he twisted around and delivered another swipe, the smaller male managing to land a superficial scratch along her offending forelimb.

Yantha might have had the upper hand for now, but they both knew that he'd only need to be caught once to be at Igansa’s mercy.

«Scorch this,» Anzath growled, and that was the only warning Karoth received before the elder dragon folded his wings, dragging Karoth with him as the two began to plummet to the ground.

Karoth grunted as the wind hissed past his frills, adrenaline giving the younger dragon a momentary burst of strength to break free from Anzath’s grasp.

But the elder dragon had swiftly oriented himself as they'd fallen, and with Karoth below him the only avenue of escape was downwards, towards the beach.

Karoth’s feet slammed into the beach, a plume of sand exploding into the air. The impact rattled his bones and stunned him, but still he managed to throw himself to the side – just in time, as Anzath came crashing down into the space he had just evacuated.

Of course, the elder didn't give him time to rest, and lunged at him with a series of precise slashes and strikes that Karoth only partially managed to block or evade.

Karoth knew the onslaught of attacks wouldn't stop unless he took a risk. He swiped wide and opened his jaws, ready to spew a jet of fire straight at Anzath – only for a blinding fast blow to strike his muzzle, drawing four bloody lines across his face.

«Come now,» Anzath chuffed as Karoth reeled away. «You're going to have to be a little less predictable than that.»

Karoth grimaced, and blinked away a trickle of blood that entered his left eye. He wasn't sure if Anzath was taunting, gloating, or just enjoying himself, but either way he knew that victory against this foe was unlikely. Judging by how outnumbered the allies were he doubted he could expect much help either.

«Would you like to return to the sky, or continue things on the ground?» Anzath went on to ask, his tone almost conversational if the slightest bit strained.

Karoth gritted his teeth, then took to the skies.

«Not bad,» Ashana said as she and Celeste returned to circling each other. The blood that dripped from minor wounds went unheeded by both dragons. «You must be that shameless whelp who lives with Ghorrah-ǂ and Jooral-ǂ.»

«Please,» Celeste snorted derisively. «I don’t want to hear about the values of independence from someone born into a clan.»

«I was trained for my position from my hatching,» Ashana growled, «Unlike you, a whelp who has only chased the strength of her betters.»

Celeste narrowed her eyes, then lunged to attack. Her first strike was knocked aside, and her foe immediately struck back with a counter – only for Celeste to flip backwards and grab the outstretched forelimb with her hindclaw.

A look of surprise flashed across her opponent’s face, and an instant later Celeste wrenched her opponent towards her with one leg while kicking her in the torso with the other, the powerful blow knocking the wind out of her chest.

Celeste watched as she plummeted through the air, but managed to re-open her wings and pull out of her fall – though the success was short-lived, given that Celeste immediately drove her down into the beach, the combined weight of two dragons kicking up a cloud of dust and sand.

«I’ve done more than chase them,» Celeste said, then sneezed as some dust got into her nostrils. «Yield,» she demanded, holding her talons over Ashana’s throat when her opponent stubbornly refused to yield.

Ashana hissed in pain, but her struggles ceased when the scales of her throat began to crack. «I yield! I yield!» she gasped, and fell into a gasping heap when Celeste stepped off of her to survey her surroundings.

While her allies seemed to have done well at first, the numbers of the clan proved to be too great of an advantage. Ghorrah, Jooral, Helsha, and Kharno were their best fighters, and they were clearly starting to tire while the Brewer clan was clearly saving some fuel to burn. On the ground smoldered a few wayward streaks of flame, though it seemed that most combatants hadn’t resorted to using their flame just yet.

Having spent a few moments to recover, Celeste leapt back into the skies to assist her allies.

Kharno expertly batted away a strike from Namtha, then kicked away Linthra before the dragon could snap her jaws around Kharno’s neck. The three dragons flared out their wings as they regained their balance, and settled back into circling one another.

«Two at once? Really?» Kharno asked drily, though she noted that the two of them seemed uninclined to attack simultaneously.

«Apologies, Kharno-ǂ,» Namtha said. «But we know better than to underestimate you.»

«We do not wish to fight you,« Linthra implored, nursing her bruised chest, «Would you please not consider stepping aside?»

Kharno chuffed. «You know I can’t do that; these humans are far too interesting. Don’t you want to see what else they can do? Don’t you want to learn about an entirely new people?»

«I am curious,» Namtha admitted, «but satisfying idle curiosity is not worth the danger that they represent. We must win this battle, and neither of us will be able to defeat you alone.»

«Well then, I suppose I should be flattered,» Kharno grinned. «But you two sure don’t seem very enthusiastic; I thought you’d be attacking together.»

«Defeat is not an option, but that does not mean we need to stoop to such levels,» Linthra said, frowning. «It would be wrong to swarm you and give you no chance at winning.»

«A pity. It seems the time for talk really is over,» Kharno sighed, and bared her fangs. «Now, let’s continue.»

Ighnahr panted as he tried to ascend, every wingbeat a struggle. The multitude of shallow wounds that covered his body may have impeded his flight, but the pain they caused was nothing compared to the fact that Huroumh was completely unharmed, save for one shallow wound across his right shoulder.

«You know, this is getting really rotten,» Huroumh growled, calling out over the cacophony of battle. «I was expecting a good fight after all that talk, but you’re even more of a disappointment than usual. We could’ve ended things a lot earlier if you’d stopped being so skittish.»

Ighnahr tried to ignore the taunt as he focused on climbing back up to Huroumh’s altitude. The moment he gained enough height he lunged forth, only to miss by a talon’s breadth as Huroumh adroitly twisted about the attack, then lashed out with a retaliatory strike that Ighnahr just barely managed to evade – but instead of pressing the attack or breaking away as he’d done before, Ighnahr opened his jaws and spewed an arc of liquid flame at Huroumh…

…only for the blue dragon to fling himself backwards with a mighty heave of his wings, the gust generated by the maneuver also working to blow the burning stream away.

«You didn’t really expect to hit me with such a sloppy attack, did you?» Huroumh sighed. «Well, I would’ve preferred giving you a chance to prove yourself before I killed you, but it looks like that just isn't going to happen.» The blue dragon paused for a moment to survey the battle around them. «If things were different, I'd humor you, but the others need my help.»

The moment Huroumh finished speaking he dove straight at Ighnahr. Given his injuries, the red dragon knew he’d be unlikely to avoid the attack, which meant that his best chance at victory was to meet it head on. If Huroumh’s restored agility made him hard to hit, then he'd just have to bring him to the ground.

So Ighnahr did the only thing he could, and swung his hind limbs forward to intercept the assault – but he realized too late that Huroumh had anticipated this; the blue dragon flared his wings, slowing his descent just enough to evade Ighnahr’s own move and seize Ighnahr’s extended ankles with his hind claws.

Now trapped, Ighnahr could only bring up his foreclaws to defend himself, but his meager defense was quickly torn apart by Huroumh, who tore deep gouges across his chest and torso before kicking him down to the beach below.

The red dragon flared his wings, trying to fight through the pain burning throughout his body, but his torn shoulder and chest muscles screamed in agony before giving out, and he crashed into the ground.

There was an audible crack, and the redoubled agony momentarily incapacitated Ighnahr. Several seconds of blinding pain passed, and he weakly came to realize that something was wrong with his left wing. A tentative glance down his body showed the wrist of his wing bent at a sickening angle, snapped in two by the boulder he had struck at the end of his fall.

«Well, isn't that fitting,» Huroumh snorted, landing nearby to watch as Ighnahr barely managed to push himself up, the red dragon’s chest rapidly expanding and contracting as he tried to endure the pain.

«This…isn’t over,» Ighnahr hissed through gritted teeth, his legs trembling against his will.

«No, but it will be soon,» Huroumh said as he strode towards his fallen foe, but abruptly paused some distance away. «...you know, I think I understand you a little better now, strangely enough.»

«What…are you…talking about?» Ighnahr wheezed through a fog of pain.

«The humans can fix broken bones,» Huroumh continued. «Things are going to change. Eventually, everyone will know that you aren’t cursed. Give up, and we’ll end things between us here.»

«This again…?» Ighnahr wheezed, his mind slowly clearing up. «I am cursed. This is the undeniable truth. How else would you explain everything? You…the humans…one of you is lying.» He winced as he folded his wing across his back, quietly wheezed, «…I hurt you. Don’t you want to kill me?»

«You’re too weak to kill,» Huroumh snorted. «It wouldn’t be–»

Somewhere on the beach, a cry of pain interrupted him, and Huroumh turned away, distracted. Through blurred vision, Ighnahr saw Takan fighting against Ahnoumh, with the younger female bleeding from a fresh wound. «What a rotten fight this is,» Huroumh growled. «Go, run like you always have. I have more important matters to deal with.»

With those last words Huroumh left to assist his daughter in her struggle against Takan, leaving Ighnahr broken and wheezing upon the burning sands.

Qnaoro was small, as dragons went. He'd never enjoyed combat as so many of his kind did, which was why he developed an interest in exploration in the first place.

«You need to learn how to defend yourself,» his parents had said when he was a youth, and this advice was echoed by nearly every dragon he had ever met – even Helsha, who often shared his view on most points.

He'd thought by adopting a lifestyle such as his that he'd never have to fight, but now – as he was being relentlessly pursued by Eosha – Qnaoro was dearly wishing he had listened to advice given to him by so many others.

«Are we fighting or playing chase?!» an infuriated Eosha asked as he swiped at empty air. Even if he had no combat skills to speak of, Qnaoro was at least confident in his agility, and that was what had allowed him to remain untouched so thus far.

Suddenly, Eosha snapped open his jaws and Qnaoro dodged – too late, he realized it was a feint, and had no way to dodge the stream of fire that struck his right wing.

The flammable oils splashed off the wing membranes of course, but not before painfully searing the thin flesh and sending him to the ground. Qnaoro barely managed to avoid a crash, but he had no time to avoid being bowled over by Eosha.

«Finally caught you,» Eosha hissed triumphantly as he pinned Qnaoro to the ground, some distance away from the ship.

Qnaoro desperately strained against Eosha’s hold on him, but the larger dragon was simply too strong for him to break free.

«Don't worry, a coward like you isn't worth killing,», Eosha growled. «I'll just make sure you won't be able to interfere.» Eosha opened his jaws, and his head lunged forward to tear-

Suddenly, something slammed into Eosha’s side, and Qnaoro was knocked across the ground along with Eosha and the newcomer.

Qnaoro quickly pulled himself clear of the scuffle, and he realized that standing over Eosha was none other than Helsha, who swiftly procured a surrender from the incapacitated dragon.

«You really should’ve learned how to fight,» Helsha panted as blood dripped from various minor to moderate cuts across his body.

«You’re hurt!» Qnaoro exclaimed, pushing himself to his feet.

«Really? I hadn’t noticed,» Helsha snorted. «Get up. Things aren't going well. We need to do everything we can, else the humans will have to use their rifles.»

Qnaoro glanced around, and realized Helsha was right. At best they were all tired, and at worst…well, Qnaoro wasn’t sure where the twins were, but the fact that Anzath and Igansa had moved onto fighting a worn-out Ghorrah and Jooral didn’t bode well for those two – or any of them. On the ground, a bloody Lakath stood over an incapacitated Untha, with badly wounded Nanzo pushing himself to his feet a short distance away.

«Get ready, here comes Wonta,» Helsha growled, and the two of them leapt back into the sky.

«Impressive,» Igansa hissed through gritted teeth as she clashed against Ghorrah. Both dragons panted as blood dripped from the countless cuts and scrapes that decorated their bodies, but Igansa was fresher, and the incremental injuries Ghorrah had accumulated had eventually allowed the purple elder to drive her opponent into the ground, where their battle continued. «To fight so well after defeating two opponents…I am sorry that we fought on such uneven terms. I should have challenged you sooner.»

«I’m…not done yet,» Ghorrah growled, straining against her opponent to no avail.

«Hold on, Ghorrah!» Jooral cried as she bowled over Hakra, the two dragons struggling in the sand for superiority. She was certain to win, but Hakra was too skilled to allow herself to be defeated so easily.

«You’ve done well, but it’s time to accept defeat,» Igansa rumbled, pressing her talons against Ghorrah’s throat. «Yield.»

«It looks like…I’ve lost,» the grey elder huffed, «but that doesn’t mean…you’ve won.»

Igansa blinked. «What are you…?»

«Look up.»

Igansa stared for a moment before raising her head, and was immediately bowled over by a roaring blur of a yellow dragon.

The sudden attack drew the attention of all the active combatants; dragons all over the beach twisted their heads about to see a second group of dragons descend from the skies.

«Enemies approaching!» Vosae roared, some distance away, «Be on your guard!»

Jooral rolled over and pushed herself up in time to see Igansa kick away her rescuer – a dragon she recognized as Eohmn, who had carved several deep wounds into the elder’s side with her surprise attack.

The yellow dragon rolled with the strike and flipped over to land gracefully upon the ground. «Hello, Jooral-ǂ» Eohmn said, wheezing a little from the kick Igansa delivered to her chest. «Looks like we arrived at a good time.»

«You’re Callan’s allies,» Jooral said with dawning realization. «Did Sharnha bring you here? How did you arrive so soon?»

«Yes, and we flew quickly,» Eohmn swiftly answered, throwing a glance up at the sky where her partner Yintra was engaging with Anzath. «I can answer more questions later, let’s win this first!» she roared, and lunged back at Igansa.

Helsha and Qnaoro fought well, but Wonta still managed to make steady progress in securing an advantage over them. The herbalist was too injured to fight as well as he could have, and so Qnaoro was forced to take risks he otherwise would have surely avoided.

«You can’t keep running forever,» Wonta grunted as Qnaoro twisted away, blood seeping out of freshly inflicted wounds.

«Enemies approaching! Be on your guard!» Vosae roared.

«What?» Wonta exclaimed, and dove out of the way as another dragon shot through the space he’d just occupied.

«Well, well,» Wakori said, sparing the ship a glance before returning her attention to her opponent. «Looks like the humans were telling the truth after all.»

«...mother,» Qnaoro grumbled, nodding his head in thanks. «Did Sharnha bring you here?»

«He did, though young Iakahn helped too,» Wakori said absently as she surveyed the situation. «It seems your allies have done well, though I’d be surprised if you helped much. Well, we can talk about that later, once we finish dealing with these rotten fools,» she growled, and turned to face Wonta with bared teeth.

Celeste growled as she slashed at Takan, but the nimble dragon artfully dodged each of her attacks before landing another slash upon her forearm, causing the young female to wince in pain.

Celeste backwinged away as Takan lunged forward to press his advantage, but the azure dragon abruptly juked away – just in time to avoid Fathom’s diving slash.

«Go, help the others,» Fathom said to Celeste.

«But-»

«The others need your help,» Fathom growled. «I can handle this one on my own.»

Celeste paused for a moment, but nodded before flying away with laborious wingbeats.

«A proper one-on-one, eh?» Takan said, grinning madly. «Well then, show me what you got!»

The two dragons lunged at each other, feinting, dodging, and slashing away at each other. The battle was like night and day from his fight with Ighnahr, who had barely strained him at all.

At some unspoken signal the two dragons simultaneously broke apart and began circling one another, blood dripping from freshly torn wounds. Both had taken significant damage, but Fathom was forced to admit he was starting to regret having sent Celeste away to help the others. The older male was known as one of the Brewer clan’s best, something substantiated by his position as one of Vosae’s two guards.

«Not half bad,» Takan grunted as they clashed one more time, «you’re not the dying ember I expected.»

«How flattering,» Fathom hissed. They were just about to clash again when Vosae’s warning tore through the skies, heralding the arrival of a familiar blue dragon.

«Vhaka-ǂ,» Fathom panted.

«It’s been some time, Huroumh-ǂ,» Vhaka said, his old rival eyeing his straightened wing. «And it seems like you picked a tough opponent.» He didn’t explicitly offer his help, but Fathom knew that was just to avoid giving offense.

«Your assistance would be…appreciated,» Fathom panted, a little surprised how ready he was to admit so, but the arrival of the allies had already begun to turn the tide of battle, and the disadvantage that the clan members found themselves at would make them all the more dangerous.

Vhaka blinked, but otherwise made no comment. «Well, let’s get started then,» he said, then called out to Takan, «Apologies, normally I wouldn’t gang up on a weakened foe, but it appears you’ve had no such reservations.»

«Well, I can’t say you’re wrong,» Takan chuckled mirthlessly as he flexed his talons. «At least this should be fun!» he roared, and flung himself at Fathom, clearly aiming to finish off his injured foe before focusing on Vhaka.

Fathom winged out of the way, but Takan twisted mid-air, lunging and catching him with a slash across the shoulder – but not without receiving a glancing kick to the chest.

Takan coiled up for another strike, but was forced to dart away from Vhaka’s quick slashes. Fathom pressed the attack, and by unspoken agreement the two of them began to alternate their attacks, slowly wearing their foe down.

«Shit!» Takan hissed as his new wounds began to slow him down. «Ghorrah-ǂ sure made this look easy,» he chuckled breathlessly as he began to lose elevation. The clan member suddenly shot up with a burst of energy, diving towards Fathom – clearly intent on at least taking one foe down with him.

Fathom bared his fangs and braced for impact – the two of them clashed in the air, then began to plummet to the ground. Fathom bit and tore at his foe, ignoring the injuries he gained in the process, and barely managed to wrench himself upwards before they crashed into the beach.

Takan, with his damaged wings, was forced to bear the brunt of the impact, which drove the air out of his lungs.

“Yield,” Fathom panted, standing triumphantly over his foe.

Takan wheezed as his lungs strained to bring in new air, but weakly nodded his surrender.

Satisfied, Fathom stepped away from his foe, trying to ignore how he shook from exhaustion and injury. A glance up at the sky showed Vhaka nodding his approval before darting off to face his next opponent.

Fathom glanced around, hoping for a moment to recover, but quickly realized that wasn’t an option.

«What, still here?» Fathom coughed as he turned to face Ighnahr. «I thought you’d have fled by now.»

The rust-red dragon gritted his teeth, clearly still in pain from his broken wing, which was now at least folded against his side. «I…can’t,» he hissed, quavering in an unseemly manner. «Not this time.»

«I’m going to kill you,» Fathom said neutrally. «You know that, don’t you?»

«I…don’t want to die,» Ighnahr hissed. «But…more than that, I am tired. Tired of this wretched existence.» The wounded dragon took a step forward, flinched, then continued his advance. «We’re ending this now, and with your death, I’ll finally be free.»

Fathom lowered his stance, his flight membranes sliding back over his eyes. «Well, at least you’ve finally found your resolve. Come now, and I’ll give you a proper end.»

They stood motionless for a moment, the two dragons completely still despite the multitude of battles that raged around them.

Somewhere off to the side, a dragon crashed into the beach, and at the same moment Ighnahr shot forward.

Fathom ground his feet into the sand, anchoring himself as he prepared to meet his foe.

Ighnahr lashed out with his left foreclaw – but Fathom expected the feint, and caught the red dragon’s follow up strike in a crushing grip before slamming his free limb into his opponent’s chest, opening up streaks of bright red upon his dark hide.

The red dragon reeled from the attack, though it didn’t stop his swift retaliation from scoring the base of his foe’s neck.

Fathom ignored the pain, and with his right arm dragged Ighnahr towards him to tear gouges across his throat. Ighnahr’s pupils widened in pain, but Fathom knew the injury wasn’t fatal. He batted away the red dragon’s desperate attack, then he opened his jaws to tear-

Suddenly, a searing pain tore across his back, and Fathom instinctively flared his wings to flick off the liquid fire that pooled in his wing membranes, but in his moment of pain Ighnahr lunged forth and clamped his jaws around his throat, knocking Fathom over and pinning him to the ground.

Panic flashed through Fathom’s veins when he found he could no longer breathe, and he released his grip on Ighnahr’s forelimbs to desperately tear at his opponent in hopes of warding him off, but the red dragon had a death grip upon his neck. Their thrashing tails kicked up great plumes of sand as the two dragons twisted and writhed throughout their struggle, but no matter how hard Fathom kicked or how deeply he tore, Ighnahr refused to let go. The lack of air swiftly began to weaken him, and soon he found himself completely pinned beneath Ighnahr’s limbs.

(Art by Bloov on discord)

Fathom’s vision began to blur as the shallow scratches he carved into Ighnahr’s scales dwindled into weak scrabbles. Thoughts began to flicker within his fading consciousness, memories of all that he had learnt in the past few months, and dreams of a future beyond any imagination. The things he had yet to learn, and the sights he had yet to see drove him to exhaust reserves he did not know he had, but all the determination and fear in the world could not overcome the simple fact that his brain was not receiving the oxygen it needed.

His parents would be disappointed, but at least Celeste would be fine, his waning mind thought incongruously. It had filled him with pride, to see her fight so well. Fathom was more worried about Pryce, but even that thought could only do so much to combat his rapidly diminishing strength.

In the end, the struggle had only aided Ighnahr’s fangs in shearing through scale and hide, strengthening his grip. Now, with his foe unable to offer resistance Ighnahr planted his arms onto Fathom’s chest. With all his might he pushed with his forelimbs, pulled with his neck, and tore.

The wrenching action yanked Fathom’s neck and head off the ground as his fangs perforated the deeper layers of protective fat, digging into muscle and sinew. Blood began to ooze out from between his fangs, but the damage was not great enough to tear into the arteries.

Ighnahr’s entire body screamed with pain, but Fathom abruptly redoubled his struggle to escape. Knowing he had mere moments left to guarantee victory the red dragon put everything he had left into one last heave, pulling Fathom’s neck away from his body…

Until a crack tore through the air.

Celeste clashed with Hakra, landing a few more strikes on the foe that Ghorrah had weakened. Still, Hakra was an old and experienced dragon, and it was only the training that Celeste had received from her mentors that allowed her to hold her own at all.

«Ghorrah-ǂ has taught you well,» Hakra grunted. «But I’m not losing to some yearling.» The elder dragon lunged, feinted, then landed a slash against Celeste’s flank, then lunged again-

A sharp crack shot through the air – unmistakable as the sound of a rifle to Celeste, but Hakra flinched and winged away in alarm. All those engaged in combat immediately disengaged at the sound, their heads twisting to the source of the noise: on the nose of the ship stood Pryce, and in his arms a smoking rifle. She followed his line of sight, and saw Ighnahr standing over her father.

Celeste’s eyes widened in alarm – the last time she’d seen her father he’d already beaten Ighnahr and had taken over her fight with Takan. What could have happened in such a short amount of time? She stared as the rusted dragon raised a foreclaw to his neck, and it came away bright red with blood. He stood, staring for a moment, then crumpled like a fallen leaf.

The young dragon warily glanced back at her foe, and the baffled look upon Hakra’s face reminded her that none of the brewer clan would know what that noise entailed. Celeste’s eyes darted around the battlefield, and realized that none of the clan members seemed to have noticed Ighnahr’s death, yet alone connected it to the crack of the rifle.

«Vosae! Stop! The humans will kill you!» Ghorrah roared. The elder was currently engaged with Ighnahr’s mother, Igansa, and her warning cry made Celeste look up to see Vosae diving down towards the ship – towards Pryce, who had just finished reloading the rifle.

«Hey, what-» Hakra barked as Celeste darted away to intercept the old dragon.

In an instant, every able member of the brewer clan dove towards the ship, while everyone else rushed to intercept them. Celeste winged on, ignoring the burning of her exhausted wings as she lunged to interpose herself between Pryce and Vosae.

«Out of my way!» Vosae roared, the clan leader’s talons lashing out as she barreled down upon the younger dragon, who haphazardly warded off the slashes the instant before the two dragons slammed into one another, falling together as a knot of many limbs.

The impact immediately knocked the wind out of Celeste’s lungs, and despite her best efforts her defense was completely torn apart by the more proficient combatant who had just begun to fight. Adrenaline fueled her desperate struggles, and she just barely broke free in time to crash feet first upon the deck of the ship, stunning her while Vosae merely landed with a heavy thud.

The crack of a rifle rang out from somewhere behind the ship’s mast – apparently a warning shot, as it did nothing to stop Vosae from lunging forth. Celeste forced her aching legs up, and the two dragons slammed into each other, their hindclaws digging into the paint of the deck.

She was no match for the larger and less exhausted elder, and she would have been swiftly overpowered if Fathom had not leapt over the edge of the bulwark and crashed down upon Vosae, blood from his neck splattering over the elder’s hide as her father all but collapsed on top of their foe. The clumsy but effective assault knocked Vosae off-balance, allowing Celeste to wrestle the elder to the ground with the help of her father, but even that wasn’t enough. Despite being pinned down by two dragons, Vosae still began to rise, ready to throw them both off – but she’d been slowed for a moment, and that was enough.

From the back of the ship sounded the crack of a rifle, and the curled tip of Vosae’s left horn exploded.

The elder reeled from the injury, panic and recognition dawning in her eyes as she realized that those gunshots were attacks. One by one, the dragons in the sky ceased their battles as they too understood the situation.

«…Why?» Vosae rumbled as blood dripped from her shattered horn. The elder was perfectly still, save for her eyes, which flicked upwards to the rest of the humans who stood some distance away, all with rifles raised, save for Scott who was reloading. Slowly, Vosae lowered her gaze back down to Pryce. «Why did you not attack us from the start? Can you only use that weapon so many times?»

Pryce raised the rifle and fired into the sky, causing the clan leader to flinch. He pointed at Ighnahr’s corpse, and Vosae slowly turned her head to see what he was gesturing towards.

«…bleed me dry,» Vosae quietly swore, the slightest quaver in her voice as she returned to face the human. «Then…if you hadn’t intentionally missed your second attack, you could have killed me,» she said in growing realization. «So why…?»

“Reiska,” Pryce said, his gaze unblinking as he kept his rifle trained upon the clan leader.

Vosae stared, her membranes blinking in bemusement. «Is he…saying ‘proof’?» she faintly asked.

«The humans do not wish to attack,» Celeste wheezed as she and her father slowly stepped off of Vosae. Now that the clan leader knew what the humans were capable of, the threat of the rifles kept her in place more securely than anything two of them could do. «You were the ones who forced them to act,» she added, more than a little resentfully.

Vosae stood as she processed this, her eyes never leaving the humans that stood ready to attack. For several moments no one moved, save for the dragons who circled uncertainly in the sky above.

The clan leader hesitantly glanced at her followers, then back at the humans and their rifles. Her gaze hardened before she abruptly raised her head to the sky. «Stand down!» she roared, causing the clan members to begin a gradual descent, followed by the wary allies. In the distance, more dragons approached – likely slower dragons who had fallen behind the initial wave of Callan’s allies. These did not go unnoticed by Vosae, who lowered her head as she turned to face Pryce properly. «We…yield,» she rumbled, suddenly looking very old.

“Fathom,” Pryce said, not yet lowering his rifle. “Can you ask her to promise that she along with the rest of her clan will not attack us?”

Fathom opened his mouth to relay his request, but what came out was only a coughing wheeze. Celeste shot her father a concerned look, then translated Pryce’s request in his stead which Vosae answered with a solemn nod.

The clan leader looked a little surprised by this, but she made no objection. «…I promise that my clan and I will not initiate any acts of aggression against you or your allies,» Vosae said, bowing her head with gravity. «…what do you intend to do now?» she asked, eyeing the humans warily.

“We will treat the wounds of our allies,” Pryce said. “Do the same for yours. Everything else can come after that.”