Chapter 30 Battle
BATTLE
Iseize Baldur’s face in my hands, pressing myself close to him now as I fight for him. We all fight for him as my drakes tighten in, coiling around him and me protectively in the gargantuan underground cavern of our Ancestors.
Though the black tar of the leviathan’s ropes scalds us, eating our flesh like acid, we don’t relinquish our grip on him. Annihilation threatens as Hedda’s black soul-energy and her drakes come for us; coils of leviathan night seethe around me now as I press my body to his.
Baldur feels me with him; he ceases struggling as those wicked ropes bind us, and all our drakes, in with him. For a moment, we just breathe together, and I feel our hearts pound as one.
It’s then that Baldur’s gaze snaps to me, clearing somewhat of the terrible belladonna darkness that had taken them, as he feels us still here with him.
I kiss his lips, and he comes a little more of the way back to us. Though time is of the essence as I feel Hedda and her bone-dead drakes barreling for us, very close now, I grip his left hand. Threading the fingers of my left hand through his, I hold us to each other, tight.
Aesa’s silver rings blazing upon us as they touch.
“Love to love, heart to heart, hand to hand,” I tell him now as I gaze up into his dark eyes, willing with every pound of my heartbeat for him to hear me.
“I’m with you, Baldur, I’m here for you—we all are—even if this is the moment we collapse.
I failed, too! When I tried to wield the Black Dragon, I failed, too!
Something inside me told me I could do it, but I couldn’t.
I failed, and it cost us greatly—maybe even more than what you’ve just done.
But you’re not alone, don’t you see? None of us is alone in our failure.
Bjorn fails to his rage sometimes; Strom to his fears.
Mikkel fails to his vicious beast of a dragon, and I fail to the call of my blood and bones, telling me I can master the Usurper.
Even Laerke fails to her coldness, when she has such a beautiful heart.
But all we have to do is fail better, over and over.
So fail better with me, Baldur. Fail better this time.
And we will live to have a next time, and a next…
where we can all fail better, together. I promise it. ”
As I speak, I open my heart wide to him. I feel the Bloodbonds between us open wide, too—as all the connections to my other drakes open with us.
As I pour my heart into Baldur, along with the entirety of my united Bloodwalker magic, I feel how the others join us. Bjorn harnesses all my drakes’ love into a mighty lance now, thrusting it right through our connection into me.
So I can thrust it into Baldur.
As that white-hot lance of our love spears Baldur, he finally understands. I feel it as he jolts from our loving strike—then finally gets it.
As his heart floods into mine, unlocked because of my words to him, and my faith in him, and our combined love, I feel his own love rush back. And it’s not just my faith in him, but all our faith that brings him back to our Bloodbond.
Because what me and my drakes really believe in, is us.
Baldur knows it now, as his bright love returns. It flashes up so hot and fast, it’s like an entire galaxy being born, as he suddenly cries out and the silver rings on our hands blaze.
A thunderclap of pure cosmic light and sound explodes from him as his body surges bright white. He shifts up into a magnificent all-white dragon now, every color of the cosmos shining through him.
Celebration blazes all through me as Baldur’s true light is finally liberated. As his endless cosmic light is restored, I feel my Bloodwalker power crash hard together now, balanced and resonating like it should be, rather than dominated by my night.
I feel that celebration blister through all my drakes as I shift up into the blazing red, white, and gold drakaina of my true Bloodwalker power. I blast the nightmare ropes of darkness off us with our united magic as I hear something deep inside the earth scream.
Thrust back by our light and hating it.
We are liberated from that darkness not a moment too soon, as the entire ceiling of the cavern is suddenly blasted out to a starry sky far above. No snowstorm is any longer in sight, as the actual black soul-energy of Hedda rushes into the cavern now.
Her four gargantuan bone-dead dragon wights are with her, though the Black Dragon is not yet among them. Baldur has come back to us, though, and I feel my courage blaze inside me, now that our Bloodbond is once again complete.
I throw back my blocky head and roar as we race up into the air now, each of us shining and restored by our united power and love. Because we have found our true oneness, as we burst with an insane firestorm of auric magic now.
The scariest, most beautiful motherfuckers in this place.
We race off after the gargantuan bone-wights, on their asses and gaining fast. Because although we didn’t get Hedda’s soul-imprint inlaid into Baldur’s Soulstone, I feel how we’ve got each of the wights now.
As the Soulstone rests far below us on the ruined bed, glowing star-white with its veins of precious ore and four soul-sigils blazing upon it in all our dragon’s colors, I know we can win this.
Because trapping four out of Five souls away from the Black Dragon is very good odds, indeed. I’m all about that, as I race after the biggest of the wights now with Bjorn.
Roaring out a massive blast of my truest heart-power—to bring it the fuck down.
The fighting is furious and fast as my drakes, Laerke, and I careen through the cavern now, battling the dragon-wights. They’re grisly and tremendous, each with rotting scales and desiccated sinews still hanging from their dead dragon-bones.
Horrible, cursed violet-crimson runes glow upon every inch of their diseased flesh. They’re cursed to be this way, I understand now, rather than be properly mummified like the ancient dragon-protectors of this space, who snarl from the pillars all around us.
Though those cursed runes upon the wights were once unbreakable—cursing them to live beyond death, thanks to their ancient arrangement with Litha and the Black Dragon—they’re no longer untouchable to us.
Although Bjorn, Strom, and I were powerless against them before, we’ve come so far as a group now, even Laerke somewhat bonded to us.
My drakes, Laerke, and I are of one mind, heart, and intent now, as we flash after the gargantuan bone-dead dragons, hammering them with our Bloodwinds and fighting them.
Intense swathes of every-color auric fire pour from us now as we assail them, thanks to our newfound unity with each other, Aesa’s rings, and the gargantuan magic that all gives us now, through our Bloodbond.
Our auric fire blisters the terrible ancient runes upon the wight’s bones, searing them white from our power now, rather than violet, crimson, or black. Then our fire makes those runes fizzle away, eating tremendous holes right through the wights’ undead bones and flesh.
Burning them up, like the rotten pieces of garbage they are.
It’s like a blazing fire-acid, as those runes are seared away from the undead wights, over and over by our magic. And we just aren’t stopping, Bjorn coordinating us as he unites our purpose as one.
We cordon them off, net them in, and blast them with towering waves of that intense fire-born magic in unified drives now, which sear right through their ancient, undead flesh. Hedda’s black energy screams around us, howling through her drakes with a thousand voices as it bolsters them to fight.
She is untethered to a body, however; and their bodies are nearly in ruins as my drakes, Laerke, and I roar now, celebrating to be fucking something up at last.
Because this is how we unmake the Black Dragon, I know now, as our amalgamated fire razes these ancient undead bones from their sagging scales and flesh. We secure and destroy the souls of the Five away from the creature, then hammer the big motherfucker with our fire.
Until nothing of it is left, destroying the beast.
But first, we have to kill off these little bitches, who don’t even know they’re ages dead and gone. Her drakes still fight for Hedda like the puppets they are, as her black energy roars, infecting them and pushing them to fight on despite their falling-apart state.
My drakes and I pull hard on our synergy now, through our bonds and the silver rings, as they flare like wildfire upon our dragon-talons. Because even though we’re making progress destroying the wights, they are undead and feel no pain or fear as they come after us, over and over.
We’re all sporting wounds now, diseased things that crawl with jagged oilslick-black and crimson curses, just like the Black Dragon’s own works. Worse, the black oilslick energy in the air from the rift in the cavern seems to push the undead drakes harder to fight, regenerating them as well.
Hedda’s malevolent energy knows it, too; she leaves off commanding her drakes as her black aura dives down suddenly.
Into the black ooze, still surging and frothing below us like a diabolical sea.
Just then, I feel something concuss, like a tremendous bomb went off inside that crack where Hedda’s black soul dove into it. And then that evil oilslick darkness is heaving up and out in a gargantuan wave—coating us and the undead drakes as we fight.
A blistering acid sears my scales where it touches me and I roar in unmentionable pain, barrel-rolling hard to fling it off. That blast was not meant for me and my drakes, however; as the black ooze infects Hedda’s wights, I see the holes in their flesh that we burned away filling in.
All those caustic violet-crimson and black runes upon them surge back as they are suddenly remade in their horror show of sagging scales, bleached bones, and mummified flesh. Their bodies are suddenly complete again, like all our damage upon them never even happened.