Chapter 30 Battle #2
As a terrible feeling of doom swallows me—that Hedda can do this indefinitely, until we fail.
Fuck!!! I roar through my mind, now that we’re right back to square one. As that black wave of ooze rebuilds Hedda’s drakes, I feel how the evil that lives here celebrates.
Because this is what it wants, as whatever ancient magic that created it becomes thick now in the cavern, making it hard to breathe.
As we fight, caustic black curses careen through the air now, shimmering in diabolical waves as they flood towards us, coming at us with the undead drakes.
We pull hard on our newfound synergy with Aesa’s rings, our own recent unity, and our significantly leveled-up abilities as we battle the regenerated wights.
Still, we’re losing now, as those wights chase and harry us in impossible maneuvers through the air. They’ve put us on the run now, rather than them; it’s an impossible fight, something we can never win, as I suddenly despair all throughout my bones and blood.
As Bjorn crashes into me now, however, then Baldur, Strom, and Mikkel, all of us tangling together as we crash-land upon the bed, I feel how I’m not alone.
The bed is the only place not crawling with cursed night, thanks to the Soulstone still blazing in the middle of it. Fight! Rikyava, fight! Bjorn’s powerful voice booms through my head, as his mighty roar thunders through my heart, bolstering me.
He’s got his bite locked on my neck, and his dominance shudders all the way down my spine. It lights up my entire nervous system as my heart hammers hard now, my inner purpose renewed.
As Strom kisses me as his dragon, coiling our long tongues together, I feel his passion flood me, raising my energy to fuck up everything we encounter, or die trying.
Mikkel’s barbed phallus thrusts into me and I gasp, flooding me with his immense devil-may-care energy: that we don’t die, our enemies do, and in the most terrible ways.
But it’s Baldur who pulls me from my blackest brink now, as he seizes the Soulstone in his jaws. As he thrusts it in my face, he holds it there, blazing for me to take in.
Rikyava! Baldur roars as he holds it. See how we have already fucked fate, despite everything! See how we have already won our chance-in-a-million… and come out on top, because of our love.
As his blazing, bright heart fills me up, I feel how he’s still fighting his own inner darkness. But he won’t give up, now that he has purpose again—because he knows we love each other, and we will never abandon each other, no matter what.
As Baldur gives me true hope again, I feel Bjorn suddenly wrangle all those towering sensations of love from my drakes—uniting them and thrusting them like a spike of brightest dawn, deep inside me now, rather than Baldur.
As he amalgamates not only my drakes’ power now but also their tremendous love, all for me, Bjorn surges to me, locking his dragon-lips and jaws to mine. He roars out a massive call of dominance, our jaws locked tight together; it’s not him dominating me now, but showing me who I am.
As he roars, his sublimated wave of hottest fire seethes down my throat, blistering me with love, even as it burns me with rage. It wakes me the fuck up, as Bjorn roars my drakes’ united fire down my throat, filling me up with genuine goodness deep inside, where I am only black.
As that incredible fire scorches right to my heart, lighting me up from the inside out now, every scale upon me blazes as bright as the dawn.
I feel how Aesa’s silver rings on all our fingers come alive then; the rings of Aesa sear with a massive power and a tremendous goodness, as they bind us all together, as one.
That oneness burns all the way through me with the brightest rage, the darkest wrath, and the most beautiful love as I suddenly know who I am—to my very blood and bones.
An indomitable roar hammers from me—plus all my drakes and Laerke, where we’ve tightened into a protective knot on the bed—as a towering wave of auric fire blazes from us.
As that magnificent blast wave leaves us, concussing the cavern in a mighty sonic boom, it clears all the evil taint from the air.
It hammers Hedda’s black energy to the sky, her four dead drakes smacking into the walls of the cavern and the pillars as our auric fire blazes every sigil throughout the cavern, making them come alive.
White-hot energy seethes from all those millions of sigil-phrases, searing bright as the cosmos itself, as the ancient protector dragons all around the space suddenly awaken.
They push up from their guardian postures before the pillars, opening their dead maws and roaring to shake the midnight air. The blazing sigils upon every one of them shine as bright as those all throughout the cavern.
Brighter, as they take to the skies.
The protector dragons battle Hedda’s drakes now, seething with tremendous auric fire as they wing hard throughout the cavern and up into the midnight sky.
Their auric fire is so vast, it even keeps Hedda’s black energy at bay now as the wights burn again, writhing with blistering white sigils devouring their bodies.
That process is far faster now, though, as the protector dragons hammer them with volley after volley of the most terrible burning Bloodnets and Bloodspears, slamming into them and knocking them out of the sky. We’re there, upon the ground, as my drakes and I fight with renewed purpose.
Spewing our own auric fire right into the faces of those undead wights—blistering them away.
As the wights’ heads sever from their bodies now, unable to be regenerated, I feel their souls depart from their flesh.
As a surging black energy from the four wights, nearly as terrible as Hedda’s, goes seething around the bright rune-field, the four long-dead Bloodmates of Hedda find nothing to infect.
The only thing they feel their soul-essences in, calling to them, is Baldur’s Soulstone. As they all rush down into it, in unison, I feel how the small glowing sphere fills up with their might.
But Baldur worked his creation well; as the souls of the wights seethe inside, roaring and tricked, they’re wrathful from our deceit. But they’re trapped by the synergy of their very own selves, from memories others held of their diabolical ways from way back when, and cannot get out.
As we trap the souls of her four drakes, Hedda’s diabolical energy screeches. I feel her roar at us in a thousand voices of malevolent hate.
Then wheel away hard, in escape.
I don’t know if any of this was in her plan, but jubilation fills me now as I roar to the skies, victorious. My drakes and Laerke roar with me now, as a towering elation fills us.
Even as the protector dragons thump hard to the ground all around us.
Their ancient runes burnt out.