Each dragon stood facing the other in the cavern. Elethain’s dragon shined with beauty, giving light to the entire area with its imposing presence. However, the light it emitted could not penetrate the dismal, black swirling mist that came from Crepusculus. Aurum. It has been a long time.
The golden dragon snorted a quick wisp of steam at the mention of its name. Indeed, Crepusculus.
It seems you have fallen. By the likes of this faded creature? The shadow dragon asked, indicating the still form of Elethain at Aurum’s feet. Upon closer inspection, Crepusculus took note of the large gaping wound behind the golden being’s right horn—a grievous sight and clearly the source of the proud drake’s fall. You let a mere mortal pierce your hide!? You are a disgrace to our kind!
There were others to accompany him, Aurum replied. Do not underestimate the mortals, brother. We have very differing perspectives on what brings shame to our kind. Stop this pursuit of power. We immortals are not meant to influence the world, only oversee.
Crepusculus laughed at the remark. Stop? Now? When I am at the very cusp of glory? I am not like you, Aurum. I am strong. I will not sit and watch as the millennia pass by like snows on the mountain! We are the rulers of this world. Can you not see? This is our destiny. My destiny!
The shadow dragon kicked off, rushing through the air toward Aurum. The animated golden dragon roared in response before launching a torrent of fire toward Crepusculus. The raging inferno flow harmlessly over its target due to its natural immunity to fire. Cursing its stupid choice of action and loss of precious time, Aurum leapt into the air to join its enemy. By the time it had reached the same elevation, the shadow dragon had already prepared its counterattack. Crepusculus bit down onto the golden limb of Aurum’s wing, drawing a roar of pain. As it clamped its jaws tightly, acid breath poured from its mouth and into the wound. Aurum’s painful shriek pierced the cavern as it felt the corrosive liquid melting its limb from the inside.
Despite the pain, the shining drake tried to bite at Crepusculus but was too restricted due to its captured wing. The shadow dragon held the golden beast dangling in the air like a worm caught by a hawk. Bitrayuul, Tormag, and Malice all watched in horror as even their new dragon ally was quickly overwhelmed. Fangdarr and Aesthéa were still running, though seeing how long of a trek remained brought them to a light jog. The path wound around the entirety of the cavern in a single spiral path, and they were not even halfway to reaching the ground level. The druid slowed to a distracted walk as she watched Aurum helplessly try to ward off its opponent. She was aware of the imprisoned fate of the drake by Elethain, as all elves were, though, there was a story to tell there. She knew Aurum to be a kind being, dissimilar to the likes of Crepusculus.
Kicking and biting with abandon, the golden dragon could not break free. The luminous limb of its left wing had begun to wither, dying from the inside. What was once glittering and bright had now faded to a poisoned gray. Satisfied, Crepusculus twisted its neck before launching Aurum into the cavern wall near Bitrayuul and his companions. The rocks shattered beneath the beast’s weight, causing a rockslide that destroyed three levels of pathway. Now, they had no way to get down to the ground floor. It was all up to Aurum, the elves, and Fangdarr.
Bitrayuul ran forward toward the golden dragon. It looked weakly to him before channeling its mental voice. Run, mortal. It is . . . too strong. Run. Do not submit to its will. Its chest heaved with exhaustion, trying to keep its wounds from spreading. Once its eyes re-opened, they went wide immediately. Run! The half-orc did not realize the shadow dragon had fluttered to their location. Its maw spread wide to consume the half-orc. Bitrayuul nearly tripped over himself in his surprise; his footing was not secure enough to react in time.
As Crepusculus’ mighty jaws lined with razor teeth were about to shut around his form, Bitrayuul was shoved out of the way. His eyes caught only a glimpse of his savior as he fell to the ground. In that single glance, the warrior watched his mother’s smile fade from sight as the dragon’s teeth crushed down onto her in an explosion of blood. Malice’s hand and part of her left leg fell to the ground at Bitrayuul’s feet. His eyes shut tightly as he could hear Crepusculus crunch down once more. He tried to block out the sound of bones snapping and organs bursting, though it was too late. The vision had been seared into Bitrayuul’s mind. He saw it all. The drake’s mouth opened just enough to readjust her body within, unleashing a wave of blood that had been trapped behind its ivory cage, his mother’s lifeless eyes staring at him from within that hell—the smile gone from her face. The half-orc’s ears could not block out the sounds. He whimpered quietly as the gulping noise of his mother’s decimated form slid down the demon’s throat.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
MIND
Shaken to the core. Bitrayuul could only clench his eyes as the new memory played over and over in his mind. His mother was dead, and it was his fault. She had died in his place. Crepusculus turned a gleeful smile to the terrorized half-orc. Know anguish, orcblood. Know, too, that the same fate will befall you all. The ensuing horrific chuckling rumbled through the warrior’s mind. How could they win? What hope was there?
The dragon opened its maw wide, aiming to consume Bitrayuul as well. The half-orc begged his limbs to move. Now was the time to react! Please! But they would not budge. With a dwarven shout, Cormac launched himself onto the demon’s face. “Take this, ye smelly bat!” he yelled as his right shield blade plunged into the dragon’s eye. Bitrayuul watched as Crepusculus reeled in pain. Actual pain! More than that, Cormac had risked himself as Malice had done in order to save him. He was bringing their fate to them. It was him. The half-orc steeled his resolve. No longer would he be their harbinger of doom.
The drake was flailing wildly to shake off the dwarf, roaring in agony. With a harsh shake, the captain was thrown free. Bitrayuul gasped in surprise as he saw Cormac’s form sailing through the air with nothing but the pit below to catch him. The dwarf, accepting his fate, called out as he fell. “Yer hammers, lad! Yer father’s hammers!”
The half-orc responded immediately, quickly removing Tormag’s enchanted weapons and launching each down toward the descending captain. With luck, the first connected with Cormac, who caught it. The second whizzed past the mark. Despite only having one, they had to try. Bitrayuul mentally called out to the hammers to return. One came back in haste, having nothing attached. The second, however, made only slow progress due to being gripped by Cormac.
The smile on the captain’s face was genuine as his descent slowed and reversed. He realized he may yet not fall to his death. He cradled the floating weapon with all of his might, careful to not slip to the depths below. It was then that the dwarf took note of the flailing drake getting dangerously close. Cormac tried to paddle through the air in an attempt to steer clear of the rampaging beast, but he could not. The weapon may have been magical, but it was mindless. It performed its function perfectly, and only that. Its path toward its owner could not waver or be altered. The dwarf braced for impact as the monster’s heavy tail swatted at him. To his credit, the dwarf managed to hold on by a few fingers. His armor protected most of his body from the blow, though the exposed part of his face was bruised terribly.
Almost there. Just a bit longer. The magical hammer had sluggishly drifted more than half of the distance back to Bitrayuul. The half-orc waited eagerly at the ledge, ready to pull in his ally. Crepusculus roared again, this time in less chaotic fury and more in focused anger. It had regained control of its actions once more and saw the dwarf hovering directly in front of it like a piece of meat. Cormac watched as the dragon’s throat started to shine bright purple from the base of its neck, rising as it went. The dwarf looked to Bitrayuul. “Good luck, lad. Ye keep Fangdarr safe.”
The half-orc’s eyes went wide as he listened to the dwarf’s final words. Even wider still as he watched the captain deliberately release his hold on the magical weapon. The hammer immediately hastened to return to his grasp, just as the acidic
flames blew from behind it. Bitrayuul leaned as far over the ledge as possible to watch Cormac’s small form growing smaller. “No! Cormac!” he shouted helplessly. He did not wish to watch the dwarf that had saved him fall to his death, but this time, Bitrayuul forced his gaze to remain open. The dwarf’s honor deserved no less than to have his valiant death witnessed.
Cormac’s form grew smaller and smaller as he plummeted toward the cavern floor below. Such a long drop—even without plate mail—would surely kill any creature. The orc-blooded warrior watched, preparing for the final splat of the dwarf. Instead, the captain vanished into darkness. Bitrayuul blinked in confusion. Did the cavern go even farther than his eyes could see? Was there a deep pit in the ground that led to an even further descent? The half-orc waited for the sound. A splat, a scream, a thud, anything. Instead, the dwarf came back into view. This time, he was running toward Elethain. Ah! The necromancer had saved him! As Cormac’s body was about to crash into the stone below, Elethain used what little strength he had left to summon the magic that eased his fall. Bitrayuul gave a gleeful shout of triumph before noticing he had drawn the attention of the confounded shadow dragon.
Launching both hammers, Bitrayuul aimed to distract Crepusculus enough to run away. But where would he even go? The spiraling ramp on the levels below was shattered. Only the exit was left, and he would not abandon his companions. He glanced over the ledge once more to see that Fangdarr and Aesthéa had finally reached the cavern floor and were carrying Elethain to a safer location. Bitrayuul saw the dragon aiming to breathe fire at him, hoping to burn and eat away at his flesh.
Come, orcblood. Do you not wish to join your dwarf?
The half-orc narrowed his eyes in anger at the mention of Tormag. The orcish blood within his veins began to boil in anger. Despite the dragon’s throat glowing purple, Bitrayuul leapt from the ledge toward the demon in the air just as the flames barraged his location on the ramp and clipped his boot midflight. There was no time to pay heed. Distracted by releasing its torrent of acid, Crepusculus did not notice Bitrayuul climbing quickly over its scales to reach the closest wing. The half-orc steadied himself, then jumped directly onto the film of the webbing. The sharpened blades of his armor allowed him to cut into the membrane and hold on despite having nothing to grab. Bitrayuul started climbing all around the wing, ripping and shredding the thin material as he went.
Crepusculus roared in agony as it felt the skin between the fingers of its wing being torn. It turned to face Bitrayuul, who still continued to rend as much as possible. The half-orc did not care if his actions brought his own death. Surely, he deserved that by now. He only thought to cripple the godlike being enough to prevent it from escaping, should they fail. The dragon took aim to bite at him. However, Aurum struck first.
Given the advantage of surprise, the ancient, golden dragon bit deeply into the back of its opponent. All three started to fall, each dragon with an unusable wing to sustain it. Bitrayuul clung to the shadow dragon’s membranous wing while Crepusculus raked with its right claws, cutting through Aurums glorious scales. Each grievous wound turned the glittering scales from gold to gray as the area died off.
Finally, as they were about to crash into the ground, Crepusculus arched its neck harshly to bite at Aurum’s head. Its teeth ripped through the only wound that had culled the golden drake in life, reaching deep into its brain. With a quick turn after Aurum’s hold relinquished, the shadow dragon spun to be on top. Bitrayuul jumped free of its wing in the last moment, tumbling along the ground with the impact. Despite being much less of a fall, the wind was still knocked from his lungs and more than a few of the spines along his armor broke off upon contact with the stone. He maintained his resolve, however, and remembered to kick off his boot. The acid had just barely eaten through the steel with only a few drops on his skin. Though the drops were small, he groaned in agony as the liquid continued to push through the skin and into bone and sinew.
Fangdarr appeared, lifting his brother entirely from the ground and carrying his prone form to the others. Bitrayuul opened his eyes to see Elethain still taking heaving breaths from the strain of his enormous magical attack. Thankfully, Cormac, Fangdarr, and Aesthéa were all in good health, though the same could not be said of their spirit. Each turned in unison at the roar behind them—a victorious exclamation from Crepusculus who stood atop the bloodied and broken form of Aurum. They watched the cavern grow dim as the golden light emitting from Aurum’s luxurious scales faded away. All that remained was the pitch blackness of the cavern.
Ah, that’s better. Now I can see. Came the mental words from the remaining drake, despite its wounded eye. It chuckled and spread its grin wide, baring those teeth that could be seen even in the darkness. The party pondered silently as to how they could conquer such a beast. Elethain was completely depleted and of no use, and all they had remaining were the blades of steel on their person.
Cormac nudged Fangdarr slowly, careful not to draw attention. “Oye, Fang. Ye remember what Tormag told ye about shadow dragons?”
Fangdarr tried to recollect his memories of that day—the fateful day that had started it all—and his eyes grew wide as his mind replayed the discussion that had taken place within Tormag’s home.
‘Lad, ye be careful. If yer thinkin’ o’ takin’ on the drake, best ye should be knowin’ that shadow dragons have a weak spot. Right in the back o’ their blasted head. Ain’t much, but their scales will shrug off even yer axe. No scale on the back o’ their head, so be sure t’ bring a dagger.’
“Do ye got a dagger?” Cormac asked quietly.
Fangdarr nodded and produced a dagger in his hand.
“We’ll distract the beast, ye find a way to the back of its head.” The dwarf made eye contact with Bitrayuul and Aesthéa. Both signified their agreement before all three took off charging toward Crepusculus.
The chieftain slid the dagger back into the loop on his belted loincloth. After a moment to grant his allies time to divert their opponent’s gaze, the orc jogged toward the dragon. He was forced to watch in agonizing fear as the three beings he loved more than all else rushed to face a fate that could very well spell their doom. But he had to go on. For Tormag. For Malice. For his people. For all of Crein. Fangdarr’s companions knew the risk and that this was indeed larger than them. If they did not succeed, how long would Crein last before being covered in ash and flame? The orc tucked his head down and increased his speed.
Bitrayuul was the first to reach Crepusculus, thanks to his orcish stature. With a boot missing, his balance wavered, though the warrior showed no sign of discomfort. He pulled Kwip from his back and launched one of the last two remaining arrows in his quiver. It glanced harmlessly off the scales of the dragon’s face as all others had before.
When will you learn, orcblood? the beast chuckled. My armor is beyond your pointed sticks and sharpened metal. Your necromancer has fallen. Aurum, your last hope of survival, has left this world for the second time. Crepusculus shot a distasteful glance to the dulled corpse at its feet. Come, meet your doom!
The half-orc planted his foot the moment the dragon began inhaling in order to have enough time to outrun the wide blast. Cormac and Aesthéa were already well on the opposite flank, waiting for the moment to strike. They remained tucked behind a rock as Fangdarr took advantage of the drake’s vision going skyward as it inhaled and sprinted past the beast. The flames came shortly after, illuminating the blackened cave in that ominous purple light. Sounds of melting rocks and sizzling acid filled the echoing chamber as Crepusculus continued to unleash the devastating liquid.
Now that it was distracted, Fangdarr clambered up the dragon’s leg. Luckily, the armor that served the beast so well seemed to prevent the feel of the orc’s body against the demon’s own. The orc was half-way up the drake’s enormous frame when the flames halted.
You think I do not see you, Roaring One? Or smell you? Crepusculus turned its head around to face Fangdarr. But you are not the Riding One, are yo
u? it asked with a grin. Why do you continue? What hope is there for you?
Fangdarr paused and remained silent. He was still a fair distance from the back of the dragon’s skull where the vulnerable spot was, but even now the orc could spot it. It was obvious the dragon would not allow him to continue the climb. Think. Think. Think! Nothing. The demon was right. A god of death walked among them. How could they compare? Nevertheless, Fangdarr had his response. The proud chieftain did the only thing he knew to do in that moment. Baring the large fangs of his bottom jaw, Fangdarr roared with as much rage and power as he could muster—directly into the shadow dragon’s grinning face.
Very good, orc. You would have served me well. Such a pity . . .
“Fangdarr!” Bitrayuul called as he threw one war hammer after the other at the dragon’s turned face. Immediately after making contact, the magical weapons returned to his grasp before being launched again and again.
Orcblood Legacy - Honor Page 34
