Chapter 22 Blaze
BLAZE
Dragons wing hard away from the battle of Stockholm, as Bjorn and Baldur stabilize our portal to Harnakje with their united power.
That shimmering oval of blue in the sky is the only place the air is clear.
Our allies fly fast for the portal now; my drakes and I zoom up with our King and Prince in our talons, as the battle becomes chaotic.
Because our enemy didn’t expect us to abandon the city; as everyone rips through the skies to the portal now, I feel from Bjorn how our King had the city emptied of all dragons except his fighters these past few days.
Safe in the provinces of his most loyal Jarls, our King protected his people by sacrificing his city. I’m grateful for his smart maneuvering, as we leave only burning buildings and shattered warriors now, rather than the carnage this could have been today.
We need to save our remaining warriors, however, as our allied forces heave through the portal in droves.
Our last Kingsguard remains to battle at our tail.
Laerke, Mikkel, and I do, too, because Lithava and her drakes are right on our asses, recovered from our flash-bomb down below in the palace ruins.
The Black Dragon is with them as it roars and heaves its massive bulk up from the burning rubble into the skies. Its devastation is everywhere, as I dodge like crazy now to hammer back volleys of caustic black Bloodspears, cast at me in a tirade from Lithava and her drakes.
We’re all beyond exhausted, but it’s a fight to the death now, as the Thorsens turn back volley after volley with me, heaving their beautifully poisonous magic through the skies.
I feel how their minds yoke as one now to control our enemies’ bodies and thoughts.
They make our enemies turn on one another rather than fight us, reducing the number of dragons coming after us.
But even as Mikkel and Laerke shoot vast jets of chartreuse acid at Emil Beck now, trying to bring him down, Lithava and I are on each other. We dart through the burning skies, heaving massive volleys of ultra-bright and devastatingly dark Bloodspears at each other, trying to take each other out.
I don’t know if we can, as both of us still wear our black and silver rings, and our mates do, too. But I’m game to try, as my inner dragons hammer so hard into my united Bloodwalker power now that a tremendous concussion of pure auric wildfire thunders off me, right into Lithava and her drakes.
Lithava’s power is no less, as terrible diseased black and crimson sigils spiral all through her dragon, lit with a vivid violet hellfire. She slams her power at me, inundating me in a wave of caustic black sigils, making me roar as they scald into my scales and skin.
We can barely battle, however, because the Black Dragon spews its terrible hellfire everywhere now. Even Lithava and her drakes dodge those burning ropes of nightmare, and the thundering, bone-breaking and blood-siphoning concussions from its voice.
I hear Lithava shriek her commands at it now, to decimate our allies at the portal, rather than trying to hit me and my drakes. It’s almost as if it can’t hear her, though, as it goes Berserk and Wraith now, spewing its terrible fire all over everything.
It even hits Arvid and Lars with one towering jet, as I understand Lithava’s lost control of it, the creature possessed by battle-fever.
She can’t command it anymore; I connect to it for only a moment, and hear the horror of a hundred thousand voices shrieking at what’s happening here, making it crazy.
Though Hedda imparted her drakes back into the beast, and most of her own soul-essence, she always knew Lithava couldn’t control it.
It’s clear now that Lithava doesn’t have enough Bloodwalker might to manage it.
The mad rampage of the Usurper is uncontrollable, as it flies in an unhinged frenzy through the blackened skies.
If we lose control of it, no one will survive; I know it’s true, even as I dodge a tremendous ball of spikes heaved at me from Emil Beck, trying to bring me down.
I see the last of our allies wing hard towards the portal in the skies, with our rear-guard keeping our enemies out.
But even as Strom ushers the last of his exhausted Eriksson fighters through, commanding them to protect the inner side of the portal, the Black Dragon heaves a tremendous gout of fire right at the portal-way.
Dragons scatter as others drop from the skies, blood jettisoning from them as bones shatter; aflame, they shriek with caustic fire devouring them.
Strom is missed by that catastrophic drive, but just barely.
I go insane now as Lithava and I lock in a death-dive, ripping at each other with talons and fangs, and the Black Dragon heaves an immense roar of rage, wrath, and confusion.
As it suddenly roars all of its bone-shattering and blood-pulling curses and darkfire right at us, Bjorn flashes in. Drawing on all our Bloodbond, he explodes a massive Bloodshield of burning wildfire right before me as he casts that blast back.
Our King still clenched in his talons, Bjorn roars up at the Black Dragon in a vicious fury—and I understand he made a spontaneous portal just now, like Jarl Jorg, to get in front of me that fast.
But Oggi Magnussen protects Lithava now, as I see a terrible oilslick Bloodshield explode through the air on the other side of us. As Lithava and I break apart, stunned and shredded to ribbons, I hear the towering roar Oggi Magnussen heaves at his son.
And Bjorn’s massive thunder, as he roars right back.
Bjorn’s mind goes red with rage then, as he finally faces off with his father. I feel him lose it, as he at last goes Berserk with his vast need to punish Jarl Oggi for everything he is, and everything he’s done.
As Bjorn and his father crash together in the skies, I feel the chaos that careens through them, seething through every part of my Bloodbond. Because Bjorn is just that powerful, able to amalgamate all our bound powers now.
As his rage thunders through all of us, unhinged.
Oggi Magnussen matches it, as his terrible black rage infects his Bloodbond as well. It spirals through them in renewed waves of caustic darkness, as Strom suddenly wings down hard from the portal, battling back Emil Beck, Lars, and Arvid with the Thorsens.
Only Baldur remains above to hold the portal. He strains, super-heated like a cosmic starburst, giving his all to hold it open alone, as I feel how he flares like a falling star, for us.
The real battle is here, however, as Bjorn and his father attack each other.
It’s a fight to the death, as they crash together with talons ripping and fangs gouging.
They slam gargantuan waves of magic into each other’s bodies, even as Bjorn still somehow manages to protect our King in one taloned fist.
The Black Dragon goes wild now, feeling that terrible battle of father and son.
As Bjorn and Oggi fight, tearing each other apart in the skies, the Usurper goes insane.
Furious jets of caustic black fire are everywhere, as the Black Dragon loses it completely, its heart-curses hammering everywhere now.
It’s all Lithava, our drakes, and I can do to avoid it. There will be no survival for any of us if we can’t get ahold of it; as Lithava rushes to its head now, roaring at it in abandon rather than battling me anymore, I know she knows it.
Strom unites with Mikkel and even connects to Laerke’s power, to mind-roar at the last of our allies to get the fuck out. They do—flashing through Baldur’s portal as he draws hard on our entire Bloodbond to keep it open.
Lithava’s rebel Jarls and their forces flee; flying away from the battle rather than be claimed by the Black Dragon’s madness, they’ve abandoned trying to get through the portal into Harnakje, as they turn tail from this incredible devastation.
Bjorn and his father don’t even see it, however, as they battle in their mutual insanity in the skies. Strom has already gotten our Prince to Harnakje; but Bjorn never got that chance, as he continues to fight with our unconscious King in his talons, frail and wounded and human.
I roar in furious frustration now, knowing we need to get our King out of here; but we’re hamstrung, as Bjorn’s rage courses through all of us, unquenched.
Because this fire of hatred between father and son has been burning a long time. I feel the blackness that inundates Bjorn now as he’s faced with the fight of his life.
That he’s been waiting for all his life—and now finally has the chance.
As father and son tear into each other, hammering terrible gouts of magic at each other and slamming each other in the skies, I can’t help. I have to control the creature responding most to this kinslaying madness, as the Black Dragon continues to rage and wrath everywhere.
I catapult up to Lithava’s position, getting level with the Black Dragon’s eyes as she screeches at it. I don’t roar, but spiral deep down now into my blackest place, to make a connection to my nemesis.
I know this place is vastly dangerous for me, but I also know this is where I have to go. As my inner Bone Magic seizes my brighter Blood Magic in its jaws, devouring it like a snake eats a mouse, I feel everything I am go black.
The darkness is unending, as everything inside me is swallowed by my deepest night. There is no light anywhere in this place; even the stars of my natural Bone Magic go out now, as I am taken by this darkest pit inside me.
But there is light, as I discover a resonance with the Black Dragon, hearing its annihilating thoughts pour through me with its vast insanity. A pinpoint light, ultra-condensed and shining through the darkness—it’s that blazing, cosmic Ouroboros I’ve found with my drakes.
The center of my truest heart—my focus now as I dive into darkness.
Dragon of All Souls! Jormungandr! Hear me, and be calm!