Ihaem

I know that the middle of a battle is no time to be admiring someone's flying skills, but by Decay - I don't think I've ever seen a dragon fly like that.

The rueful train of thought screeched to a halt as he was forced to dive nearly flat against one of the Ascent's basalt pillars, the Emperor dragon's closest claw sweeping over his head. With a frustrated snarl, his claws glowed virulently with his innate connection to the corruption as he slashed at the retreating limb.

This was a game of papercuts on a giant, all flights working in tandem, and he was hyper-aware of the war of winds going on above him; gusts from the golden Wind-Guardian nullified those from the Emperor's Wind-natured heads. But with each success he could feel the attention of the Plague heads slowly direct her way, their corruption echoing dissonant with his own.

It was only his close attention that saw the golden Guardian falter, her impossibly Nocturne-like swoops and dives stuttering in the face of two cross-cut blasts of poison breath. Her broad wings made a powerful clap as she backpedaled, but it merely muddled the currents and brought her into the direct path of the weaker of the two. Coughing visibly seized her entire body, losing altitude as her focus waned.

He was already surging his way up into the air, ungainly compared to her grace, but his bigger wings caught the twisting winds surging up the Ascent like a benediction. The closest Plague head lunged towards her, and the effortless wing-dip came too late to steer her clear of the massive head's jaws.

He had gotten close enough, then, to slip his body under hers as she attempted to right herself. She seemed impossibly fragile, then, balance gone and wings only spreading to two-thirds his own span. But a fresh gust of wind, and she peeled off from his protection to circle into a larger basalt column to land.

He landed better than her, the loss of one leg still unfamiliar and detrimental. But he could smell and feel the itch of corruption in her wound, and once closer he could see the acidic saliva both cauterizing her now-empty shoulder and eating deeper. With a snarl, he wrested control of the odd chord, muting it and casting the memory of the sound away as much as he could.

Coming back to himself with his wings flared protectively, eyes ablaze with Plague magic enough so that they mirrored burgundy off of the Guardian's hide, he took an unconscious liberty and nuzzled her shoulder lightly.

"Can you still fly?"

"I still have wings." Her fierce smile matched his, and he planted his claws deep in the stone as she used him to rise again, awkwardly, with a feeble cough following.

"Stay close."

"Only if you can keep up." She launched from her hind legs, wings spread and subtle pattern catching the sunlight as the wind caught her upwards.

....Decay, I think I might be in love.


Art by bittersweetlove