Crepusculo

---

It's been about three hours since the attack first launched. Three hours since her commander gave her the order to let off some steam. Three hours she had been here, slicing off the heads of monsters within the Arena.

But no matter how long she was there, restlessly slicing Longnecks and chimeras alike, anger still boiled in her veins. She couldn't stop seeing red, and swinging her cleaver around didn't seem to be helping one bit.

If she were any normal warrior, she would have been good as dead by now - absolutely no dragon should be able to stand such grueling circumstances all alone. But then again, she was never normal.

She was here because her higher ups thought she was going to slice their heads off if she wasn't. They demoted her after she had a scuffle with another warrior within her rank, causing serious injury and an angry commander. All warriors from all ranks saw her like some sort of uncontrollable monster, always wary of her and treating her like some wild animal.

Well maybe I do wanna slice their heads off, she thought bitterly, swinging her cleaver to line a clean cut to the back of a longneck gladiators neck, would that make them happy?

As the enemy fell, the skydancer lifted her blood soaked cleaver up to finish the job until she felt a new sudden presence. Instinctively, she swooped around and flung her cleaver to the unfamiliar presence, only for it to be halted by large hand.

She looked up to meet two golden eyes staring right back down at her, his voice deep enough to make her muscles tense; "Leave some for the trainees, they're gonna go extinct at this rate."

With glaring eyes, Crepusculo brought back her cleaver to her belt - realizing she was covered in blood none being her own. Her feathers ruffled at the guardian and he took a cautious step back, catching her aggravated aura.

With a scoff she turned to head off, until his voice once again rang out from behind her. "I've never seen a dragon fight like you before, what're you fighting for?"

She glanced over only to offer him a violent glare, holding up her cleaver and stabbing it into the previous longneck gladiator who was trying to get back up again. "What's it to you?"

"I want to fight like that."

She hesitated briefly - she never had a dragon say that to her before. She'd hear it all the time, only directed to her other comrades, dragonets admiring her them and her commander; striving to be as sophisticated as they were. But none ever dared to even cast a glance at her direction.

And yet here she has, having a complete stranger in the middle of a battlefield admiring her skills.

"It's nothing really." She dismissed, lifting her weapon from the dead enemy. "I'm just angry. Trust me when I say I'm the last dragon you should be asking help from."

When the guardian didn't respond, she turned to face him all the way. Now able to see his features more clearly; very dark scales contrasted by his Platinum wings and sharp gold eyes. He may not hold as much experience as she did, but he sure had the potential to.

Her eyes zoned in on the dark pouch containing a simple bow and arrows. "You use a bow and arrows, I can't work with that sorry." She continued, her unamused gaze holding to his of curiosity.

"When's the next time you plan on showing up here?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Didn't you listen to a word I said-"

"The more we fight together the more we'd learn about each other's tactics and strategy. Even if you downplay your abilities I'm definitely not letting it go to waste."

His eyes were filled with determination, and the skydancer found herself completely baffled. He wanted to fight with her, the blood soaked, angry and ruthless skydancer?

But upon noting his strong conviction, she sighed wearily. "Meet me here; tomorrow at dawn."

---

The Undying Featherback stomped its crooked hooves against the charred sands of the wasteland. Despite how many wounds scarred the enraged beast it still stood strong, reared back on hind legs. A haunting squeal belched out of the undead behemoth as the dragon who dared challenge it slices through its exposed stomach; and in front of it now was the culprit - with her stained cleaver was an intense-looking skydancer.

What Crepusculo loved most about Featherbacks was the fact they can't die without magic; meaning she can fight them as long as she liked without having to search for another target.

It was her only reason for being in the Scarred Wasteland, that and the poor excuses for dragons of plague attempting to get in her way; they also provide entertainment at times. The Undying Featherback was long reduced to primarily bone during their lengthy battle, but the skydancer still felt an unrest in her body - the desire for something more challenging.

She clutched the handle of her dirty cleaver, awaiting the beast's next move - not failing to recognize the steady decline in energy the monster produced. She hoped the Featherback would last but now, observing it's sluggish movements and lazy swaying, it was clear she did not have much time left. She previously anticipated the beast lasting for at least two more rounds; However, to her dismay, the undead boar spontaneously.. fell. It collapsed on the ground before her - but not how she expected. It's head was sliced clean off, and it wasn't her doing.

She breaks her line of thought and swiftly tilts her head to the side as a gust of wind accompanies an unknown attack aimed at her neck. She inhales a hint of the rancid scent of the air as she turns to face her new opponent: a large deranged looking imperial, with an intense storm in his fierce red eyes brewing rapidly upon realizing his attack was dodged.

"Howdy." She hummed. Maybe her wish for a challenge will come true.

The Imperial studied her in a eerily composed posture, not at all expecting her to evade his attack. "You're quick. But that won't mean much once you are dead." The stranger spoke in a smooth voice, one that'd woo any dragon if it wasn't laced with malice and blood-lust.

"Me, dead?" The skydancer lazily shuffled her battle-worn body to face him, getting into a standard battle position with her cleaver hanging beside her. "Didn't realize Plague dragons are capable of humor."

She couldn't hold back a smirk as she heard the larger dragon huff.

Only a few moments after their exchange, they were suddenly locked in battle. Usually, Crepusculo had little to no trouble when it came to battling larger opponents - she saw them as nothing more but bigger targets. But she was utterly amazed at the imperial's quick movements and dexterity, a large grin plastered on her face as the sound of her own adrenaline pumped loudly in her ears. For the first time in a while, she felt excited.

Luckily for her, she was just as adept; dodging deadly strikes by the inch and exchanging some hits of her own. However, that rush of the first attack never again revealed itself. She didn't realize her new battle scars until she felt a warm trickle run down her cheek. She attempted one last jab - which was narrowly dodged - and created distance between them once more, leaping back and rubbing the blood off her face.

She shot the stranger a glare. "You're holding back."

"You'd be dead by now if I wasn't."

She hated the fact he was right. "What happened to wanting me dead?"

"It's been a while since a dragon lasted this long."

The skydancer couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in his indirect compliment, a smug smirk forming on her lips. "I could say the same. What's your name?-" She narrowly dodged a sudden slash that grazed her antler.

The imperial turned now with an expression she guessed was amusement. "Copperhead, yours?-" He swayed to the left as her cleaver swiftly sliced through the air beside him.

"Crepusculo." She brought her cleaver back and ducked from a swing. "Wanna do this again sometime?"

Finally, their scuffle stopped as quickly as it began. Copperhead examined a fresh slice on his arm, it had been long while since a dragon was a capable of injuring him. "Tomorrow. Maybe you're worth my time." He shot her a wicked grin, and she reacted with one of her own;

"I'll see you then, Copperhead."

---

Crepusculo doesn't falter when it comes to the various arts of combat, as a devoted warrior she fights as if her life depended on it even against the smallest of opponents. However, she is not a warrior that is praised; at least, not to the extent of her comrades. For she does not run on the motive of protecting others or serving her kingdom - no - she fights simply for the thrill of it.

A dubbed malice, many dragons perceive the skydancer as more of a beast that lacks in morality - and she had grown accustomed to that name bestowed upon her. So used to it that any act of kindness directed towards her is foreign, sending her violent mind in a frenzy; haphazardly contemplating various admittedly irrational motives to grasp just why they felt inclined to assist her. And so there she sat, in that whirl of deliberation, before a pale young pearlcatcher.

He was relatively composed, skillfully examining her injured arm with dedication, but the subtle ways he would avoid her gaze or perhaps flinch ever so slightly when she made a move proved otherwise. Maybe because she was a stranger? No, she was no fool. Who would not be wary around a large battle-worn skydancer, with dried blood of past enemies clumping her stained feathers and an equally disheveled cleaver hooked along her belt.

How she got here was a question she herself could not answer to completion. She can recall for certain she had been in the Thunderhead Savanna, taking out frustrations against the minor opponents. But she would never let herself be injured by such minuscule opposition - no, it was a dragon who stroked her down. She couldn't remember much after, but the stranger before her definitely was not the perpetrator. She wearily shut her eyes with a frustrated groan, causing the pearlcatcher to finally look up. "Did that hurt?"

She opened an eye, a dull pink gaze meeting blue. "No."

"How.. How did this happen?"

He seemed hesitant to ask the question, not that Crepusculo could blame him. "I dunno."

His gaze fell, breaking their momentary eye contact. "Oh.. Either way, you should be more careful."

A brief pause fell between them as she stared vacantly at him.

She could no longer restrain the question that had been lingering in the back of her mind; "Why are you helping me?"

He frowned unexpectedly and paused, gazing up at her with a look of confusion. "Why wouldn't I?"

She felt a sharp twinge in her chest, similar to a jab. This time it was her that broke eye contact, averting her gaze to the side. 'Why wouldn't I?' Why would he? It should have been an easy prod but for some reason she was the one left dumbfounded.

She was broken from her thoughts when a spontaneous electric blue aura illuminated the area before her, emitting from strangers palms and which were placed delicately onto her injury. She was about to voice her protest until the painful sensation numbed until there was no pain left to have. And as he released his grip the warrior swiftly brought her arm up and examined it; as she expected, the wound that once was there was now a memory - only a faint line tracing where it once was remaining. "How-"

"I'm a healer." He grinned pridefully, like a child showing off their rock collection. "And.. my name is Bolton. What's yours?"

She took turns looking from her mended wound to the pearlcatcher before slowly lowering her arm, mulling over whether or not she should reveal her name. She wished he remained dubiously tranquil, because the confidence radiating out of him now admittedly got on her nerves. "..Crepusculo."

He settled into a more comfortable smile, repeating the name under his breath. With a clasp of his hands he began to speak once again; "I-"

"You better not charge me or I'll have your head."

"No no no!" He frantically waved his hands nervously, breaking into a cold sweat. "I was just wondering where you came from!"

"Oh. Starfall Isles."

"That's pretty far.."

"I might get hurt again. Planning to accompany me?" She smirked at his bashful expression.

Bolton's usual calm demeanor wavered briefly. "I!- I live here!- I mean- seems you can hold your own.. Not in a bad wa-"

Crepusculo laughed aloud, interrupting the pearlcatcher. "I'm joking. You're nice company, nicer than most." She stretched her limbs and got up. "I'll see you next week."

"Next week?" His protest fell on death ears, the cunning skydancer already having taken flight.

---

:	“I love the kind of dragoness that will actually just kill me. I mean really, just absolutely destroy me. I’m talkin’ full on, watermelon-in-the-thighs level of carnage. And I want it to scare the heck out of me.”