<< First | < Previous | Next >
Larantorthilmanel kept a wary eye on the Kalor scion as she aimed her flame at her targets. All scions of Kalor should know better than to interfere in a proving challenge, but it was difficult to ignore the constant screaming of her danger senses. She knew, with utterly terrifying certainty, that the tiny human could obliterate her with ease at any moment, despite their small size and lack of flame. That human wore ostentatious garb, all colored the dark orange of orichalcum, but the arrogance proclaimed by it was well justified. Fortunately, the Kalor remained passive so far, seemingly content to just watch.
She watched for just an instant longer, more than enough time for a Kalor to react if they chose to, then irritably shoved the distraction aside and focused on her proper task. This unfamiliar pair of humans surprised and confused her. Their souls felt absolutely solid and unyielding, even matching the Kalor in that regard. She had felt that degree of solidity only once before, in a reclusive ancient dragon of the flight, and that old mother refused to ever speak of how she had achieved it.
Yet, despite achieving such a rare sign of strength, they were completely unknown to her, and they were lacking in other ways. While their souls completely shut out the pressure of her strength, at merely Level 50 they lacked the weight to not be shaken by it; they just got shaken as a fully-intact whole, rather than showing cracks and distortions. Perhaps most significantly, she felt no impressions of any specific capabilities that solidity granted them.
The one time she'd seen that ancient elder, the ancient's soul had blazed like a roaring inferno and soared like the sun, inspiring her to greater power than she had ever previously imagined. The Kalor touched everything with unstoppable force, held back only by her own restraint; hovered perfectly still, utterly implacable and immovable, indifferent to any blow that might strike; and, at the same time, lightning danced through the human's form, ready to move faster than sight at any moment.
For these two, however… Larantorthilmanel felt that… They were watching her? Cataloging what they saw? Analyzing and understanding things? There were hints of doing it all quickly, at least, but she was concerned that even her weak initial probing attack might be too much for them. She knew that knowledge could be useful in combat, but they seemed to lack any means with which to leverage whatever knowledge they had. Oh well. If they couldn't handle even that much, then they would never have mattered anyway.
Her eyes narrowed as her flame reached its targets. They hadn't even begun to react, not even to try to fly away or to raise the pitiful barrier of their arms. Her dragonfire enveloped them completely, obscuring them from sight behind a crackling blue-white curtain. It was strangely steady, though, neither wobbling erratically with their panicked movements, nor blazing higher from the extra fuel. In fact… It somehow wasn't actually burning them. They were just hovering there, ignoring the fire all around them.
They weren't even doing anything to block the flames, either. Something certainly was, but it wasn't an exertion of their souls. Larantorthilmanel looked closer. Do they have an enchanted item protecting them? Wait, no… Her eyes widened. That essence isn't anchored in an object, and it's directly connected to their own mana. That's a spell. They're mages! Hmm. I suppose I should have guessed that from how their presence is affecting the aether more than most souls do.
The flames died as the mana fueling them ran out. One of the mages started moving their mana, but the taller one held up a hand and called out to Larantorthilmanel, "Is there some kind of protocol for this? I could tell that you exerted only a small fraction of your power; are we supposed to do the same?"
She laughed, her whole body shaking in the air, not caring about the echoes or dignity. "You mages are known for versatility combined with strength, right? Demonstrate that. And try not to die."
This time, she skipped warning them with an unnecessary buildup. Her flame needed no buildup. It was a part of her, and it was always burning hot. She merely unleashed her flame, and it poured forth in a deluge of heat and light. Simultaneously, she flapped her wings to drive a tempest of wind forward to stoke it hotter. The wind tried to push her back in response, but she rejected that and reflected the force to further augment her blast of wind instead. Fire leaped across the intervening space in an instant, many times more intense than before.
Despite the flame's speed and suddenness, a spell sprang into existence ahead of its path, cast by the mage who had spoken. Larantorthilmanel felt heat rising as she focused more power into the beam to burn through whatever barrier spell protected them. Sparks and tongues of fire blew forth in the wind from her wings. Wait, from my wings? And why do I feel the heat around me? Belatedly, she noticed a column of light and fire descending on her with crackling fury from above. She blinked, then cackled. "A portal? Clever, but why would you ever think my own flame might hurt me?"
The torrent of fire from her mouth had already cut off, but the halo of it wreathing her remained, responding to her will as its master. It intensified as it condensed down, wrapping her in armor and weaponry combined. Hot enough to melt stone on contact, her flame surrounding herself filled her with comfort and assurance, and it let her sight pass through without effort.
The smaller mage cast a different spell around Larantorthilmanel, a hollow sphere centered on her about a hundred feet in radius. That was far enough that she wasn't entirely certain that she would be able to disrupt it before it finished forming, and she didn't bother to try. The spell enveloped her in a translucent force bubble, then rapidly shrank to close in on her from all sides. She felt uneasy for a moment, remembering old rumors of how a mage had inflicted strange calamity upon the Silver Flight. But no, this spell held no hint of the screaming wrongness that the rumors had spoken of, and those rumors had been emphatic that the sensation was utterly impossible to miss.
She flared her flame outward to meet the spell, and not merely to splash fire uselessly against immaterial force. No, her flame was far more capable than that. White-hot dragonfire touched the spell-made force field and immediately latched onto the flows of mana that it was made of. The flame took on the intangible nature of what it was burning and spread like a wildfire throughout the spell itself. Streams of mana to fuel the barrier provided convenient pathways for her flame to follow to reach the tiny pipes of essence that defined it. She wouldn't even need to burn through the spell's supply of power, nor physically break the barrier it produced. She knew enough about mages and spells to know that destroying even a tiny portion of that silly-looking tangle of essence pipes would make the entire spell fall apart on its own.
Except, the spell… refused to burn. Her flame danced along the mana flows, but it didn't catch and ignite any of the mana within those flows. It just flickered on the surface, burning with the trickle of her own mana that reached it, but petered out in just a few feet. Her flame couldn't even reach the essence pipes, and even if it could, she was sure that they would resist burning just as strongly. Then another spell layered on top of the force bubble, and Larantorthilmanel watched in disbelief as even the short flickering lines of her flame outside the barrier were snuffed out, their heat suppressed.
She roared indignantly and called her flame back to her body, then flapped her wings, this time for propulsion. She darted forward faster than any natural wind and slammed into the force bubble, claws first. The bubble shook, and the shaking intensified when the backblast of her wingstroke hit the side behind her, but it did not crack. The spell's structure was as solid and resilient as the soul of its caster. She focused her flame on a single claw, held against the barrier's surface, and nodded in satisfaction as the mana in that spot finally yielded, melting in the magical intensity of that much heat. She could break out in well under a minute if she needed to.
Serious fights typically moved a lot faster than that, though, so she needed a different tactic. The spell was extraordinarily sturdy, but its mana lacked density compared to her. It had too little weight to hold her in place, and had no anchor to make up the deficiency. The bubble had already moved considerably just from her one impact with it. She pressed her claws and snout against the barrier and began flying in earnest, and the bubble moved with her.
She angled her flying charge slightly to her left, seeking to pass by the mages' defensive portal, but even with her tremendous speed, they reacted before she could get that far. The force bubble shrank further, beginning to press on her from all sides. She grinned; they had just given her the leverage to truly exert her strength against the spell. She planted her rear claws against the back side of the bubble, pressed her wings against its sides, and pushed. Her right front claw, still bearing the concentrated main bulk of her flame, broke through first. With just a flicker of intent, she sent that compressed glob of dragonfire careening straight into the essence pipes that defined the barrier. The essence resisted, just as she'd expected, but her flame was too concentrated, too potent, and too magical for that to be enough. Several tiny pipes deformed, a few even breaking outright, and the bubble of force distorted wildly, then vanished.
Another copy of the same spell began to form around her, and this time, she responded. As quick as thought, her flame lashed out to where the essence was condensing into pipes. This time, however, her flame hit a separate barrier that specifically blocked heat. She probed the heat barrier for a moment and found that it covered barely more than the essence pipes themselves. She could probably overwhelm it if she really tried, but not instantly, and it might not be worth the effort.
The new force bubble snapped into existence and immediately shrank, but stayed just a little larger than the length of her body at full extension. She mentally shrugged and abruptly changed course, turning to her right so quickly that her turn was a sharp-pointed corner, just 20 feet to the side of the mages. They looked at her with shocked expressions in the bare moment they had before she shoved their own force bubble right into them. At least, she thought that expression was how humans showed shock. Their faces were so small that it was hard to really distinguish the significant details. Regardless, she was pretty sure this should work. Mage spells weren't nearly as responsive to their masters as something like her flame was, and she had heard plenty of stories about foolish mages accidentally hurting themselves.
Larantorthilmanel and her co-opted force bubble flew straight through the mages, and… Nothing happened. They weren't flung aside, shoved back, injured, or even moved in any way. She stared at them in confusion for a moment, then glared sternly. "What is the meaning of this? Some kind of deceptive trickery?"
Both mages vanished, and their souls reappeared to her senses a hundred yards higher and farther back. One of them shouted back to her, "You said to demonstrate versatility and to try not to die. Illusions like that are among the many, many things our versatility includes, and the most effective way to prevent an opponent from killing you is to not be where they think you are."
"Hmm." Larantorthilmanel hovered in place, her flame swirling slowly around her. She remained silent for several tense seconds, then finally lowered her head in a sharp nod. "I have seen enough. Dismiss this barrier and follow me."
___
Carlos watched the mountain peak pass below as they flew onward in tense quiet. Rolling hills, woods, meadows, valleys, and a few rivers filled the landscape to the horizon ahead of them, but he was in no mood to appreciate the view.
He had tried asking Laran — a nickname he hadn't dared to speak yet — about the result of their assessment and what might happen next, but she had refused to answer any questions. They had definitely shown significant strength, at least, but the trick with invisibility and illusions had apparently backfired, and he was mentally scolding himself for it. Even just based on what Lornera had said about dragons, he really should have realized in advance that any sneaky tactics would give a bad impression.
Amber grasped his hand, with a spell protecting her arm from the wind, and Carlos gladly accepted the gesture. The warmth of her hand clasped together with his felt calming and reassuring. Whatever came next, they would face it together. And having Lornera along for it was one hell of a trump card, come to think of it.
Laran suddenly started descending, and they followed. Another dragon lay on the ground, wings furled and tail coiled around its body, right where they were heading. Laran circled just above the other dragon and finally spoke again, "Wait here and give him no trouble. I will inform the elders and return with their decision." She flew off in a slightly different direction, and soon she was beyond the range of any of Carlos's senses.
After an hour had passed with no further development, Carlos started wondering if they should set up camp here. Their dragon minder was no help, just shrugging and saying it was their business when Carlos asked him. Lornera was calmer than the rest, but she didn't know either. She was sure that Laran had already reached and informed the Gold Flight elders, but the elders' decision speed could range from immediate to days.
The sky was starting to dim when Larantorthilmanel finally returned. The dragon landed, furled her wings, and faced Lornera directly. "The elders ask a price for what you seek. Orichalcum metal. Your ring."
<< First | < Previous | Next >