Mag

”You have to leave. I can’t—I won’t let myself hurt you again,” the Skydancer uttered, icy eyes pleading for the Guardian to understand.

She kept silent, despite the protest that rose on her tongue. How could he ever hope to understand? He had born born and raised a Skydancer – a dragon that held no concept of ‘charges’ or the magnetic pull that attracted a Guardian towards their calling. To him, her devotion surely seemed foolish. And perhaps it was. But that did nothing to ease the pang in her heart at the thought of leaving.

She took a hesitant step forward, a frown creasing her features as he scrambled back. But it was not fear of what the great, hulking dragon could do to him that drove him back. It was the fear of what he could do to her.

”You won’t – I trust you,” she rumbled lowly, purple-eyed gaze scrutinizing his own, unnaturally-glowing eyes. She was amazed at how much he had grown and developed – she recalled when she’d first found him as a hatchling. That strange, restless pull that had plagued her for so many years had finally been quelled. She knew, from that point forth, she would defend Opus with her life.

Magnum’s brow creased as she studied her charge. He was different now – and not just because he’d matured into a charming adult Skydancer. It was hard to ignore the pure, magical power that gleamed from his gaze, and harder still to ignore the icy patches that now marred and broke the scales. There was an odd, ethereal beauty to the ever-shifting, growing and shrinking patches – if not for the inherent danger they possessed.

She took a moment to study her own hide – marked and marred in a similar fashion, but differently. Studying an iced-over patch on her left foreleg, she considered once again the fact that it might never thaw. No, the flesh beneath seemed irreparably damaged – she was lucky she’d gotten off with only a few patches.

Opus had done that – but he hadn’t meant to. How could he have known the side effects of his amplification spell – a spell that would accomplish the boost in magical ability he desired, but at a terrible cost. The element of Ice was now too much for the Skydancer to control. Even now, he left small pockets of ice wherever his paws touched.

The effect on a living, breathing dragon was, somehow, even more aggressive. She’d recalled the day she’d heard his scream – a scream of sheer terror that sent her flying across the landscape, snarling and desperate to end whatever threatened her charge so.

She had found him sobbing and clawing desperately at what she had first assumed to be an ice sculpture – an eerily perfect, icy rendition of his former mate. It had only been when she’d gotten close enough to see the pure, unadulterated terror in that ever-frozen expression that she realized that it was his mate.

It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t have known. Neither did Magnum know her own folly as she rushed forward to embrace and console him – an effort that sent him screeching and flailing and trying desperately to get away. For the second she touched him, her scales began to ice over, a terrible, unearthly chill seeping into her.

She was lucky to react in time – stumbling back with roars of pain, she escaped the fate that had befallen Opus’ less-fortunate mate. But the icy scars that now ran over various parts of her body were destined to remain forever – a warning of what happened if you got too close to the Skydancer she cared so much for.

”Your trust is misplaced, then,” Opus replied, shifting to bundle the last of his things into his satchel. ”They’re coming for me soon – you know that. I can’t stay here. I know I should answer for what I did to him – he deserves that. I didn’t mean to, but there’s nothing I can do to bring him back. But I can’t get taken to the Fortress – you know what happens to the dragons there. … Though I suppose being frozen in ice for eternity would be fitting, wouldn’t it?” A wry chuckle that got no reaction from Magnum.

”There has to be another way – I’ll protect you,” she murmured, a sorrowful pang in her heart as she realized there was no stopping him. Bundled up, the Ice dragon was ready to go, fixing her with a final look. She thought she could see the fear and sadness in his expression, as brief as that look was, and she longed to draw him close and tell him, the way she had when he was a whelp, that it was all going to be okay.

But she couldn’t lie to him. She could only watch as he took to the skies, wings beating the best they could beneath the layers of ice that seemed to constantly shift and grow larger. One day, they would grow too large, and then…

No. She couldn’t think of that.

Hanging her head, she silently watched until he had completely disappeared over the horizon.

---

She waited for days – telling the authorities that she had seen neither hide nor hair of where he had vanished. They didn’t believe her, she was sure of it – but eventually, they stopped coming around. She could only pray that Opus, wherever he was, had escaped the Icefield altogether.

But she could not ignore the pining in her heart – a hollow nothingness that grew with the distance she was apart. Eventually, the great dragon got up, casting a glance to the skies.

”I tried to listen to you, Opus,” she murmured, though she knew not where he was. ”But how can I waste away here, when I can still find and protect you?”

She could not leave him to face the world alone. She would find him again, no matter how long it took, if only to ease the hurt in her heart.

The great Guardian took flight at dawn. Perhaps the gods could show her which way to go.