Norva gnashed her fangs as she steeled herself, her newest war gash still fresh and bloody. The pain was almost enough to make her gasp and cry out, but she held firm. Taking a steadying breath, she turned towards her adversary, a brilliant dragon with golden plumage and white scales, painted scarlet with her own wounds. Beneath them, the armies of men threw themselves at one another at the foot of a large mountain, like so many ants at the foot of an anthill. Years ago, this fight would have been unthinkable to her. This was Volos' home, once. Once. But Volos was dead now, and his home was now just another battleground.
How many of us must die for our beloved "Children"?
The dragon opposite her flapped her wings forcefully, once, twice, then came surging towards her, talons bared. Norva raised her own claws to grab the dragon's limbs, only to start plummeting to the ground. With no one flapping to maintain altitude, the game of biting and gnashing quickly became a game of chicken: who would be more willing to see their opponent destroyed, dashed against the quickly approaching ground.
Norva wanted to win, but she didn't want that. She pushed away from her foe at the last moment and flapped upwards desperately with her midnight wings. The other dragon did the same, but did not try to chase. Instead, she opened her maw and reared back her head. Norva could feel the magic in the air tensing before the beam materialized in the dragon's mouth. Diving downwards again, Norva barely evaded a brilliant pink beam of light shot from the dragon's mouth, as bright as the rising sun. Norva replied in kind, summoning her own Breath from deep within her chest. Her mouth opened wide, the air humming with energy around her as she roared and willed forth a torrent of miasma, as dark and opaque as a starless dusk.
Norva's breath found its mark, and the dragon, smote with noxious flame, dropped like a stone to the earth. Her wings stretched wide to break her fall, but at such a speed, she could only slow it, landing with a tremendous thud. A cheer went up among some of the ants nearby, those who weren't crushed by the dragon's fall. Norva landed much more gracefully, padding slowly towards her panting, groaning enemy.
She closed her eyes after taking in the pitiful scene, and thought, Poor Uzume. How did we let it come to this?
The white dragon slowly lifted her head and used one bright pink eye to look at Norva, thinking back, You know...exactly...how it came to this.
Biting back the urge to retort with another show of force, Norva replied, You're beaten, Uzume. Tell your people to retreat. There is no call for more bloodshed.
Uzume, the white dragon, slowly staggered to her feet as she shot back, And...then what? You...strip my children's plains bare, like...you do with yours? You destroy their most fallow fields, until their children starve and die in the wilderness? I will...not let you...hurt them...any more than you already have...not while I yet breathe…
Norva stared at her for what felt like hours, but what she knew to be merely seconds. Her soul wept for her, but her heart had long been hardened by war.
Slowly, regretfully, she came closer, pushed the already weak dragon back to the ground, one clawed limb pinning Uzume to she ground by her chest. She raised one claw in the air as she thought, I am sorry. You know that.
The one pink eye watched her emotionlessly from the ground, then closed it.
Norva hesitated, for a moment only, but then, remembering her duty, swung her claw down towards Uzume's throat.
A brown blur slammed into Norva, making her fall away from Uzume and onto the ground, throwing her precise swing off its trajectory. But the claw still buried itself in flesh and bone, Norva felt it.
Norva stood, slowly, shaking off the surprise of being thrown off her balance. It took her a moment to orient herself; whatever had hit her had been of a significant size…
That's when something wet spattered against her left leg.
Water? No, not water. Blood.
Dragon Blood.
Norva raised her head and saw horror of her own creation, for the second time. She saw Anankos, young, sweet, kind Anankos, stumbling to the ground. His throat was slit wide open.
Norva screamed, and it was a scream that she felt vibrate to her bones and deeper still. It was Volos all over again, but worse, so, so much worse. No, no please, Annie, you can't...why did you...don't leave me now…
Norva had to fight desperate sobs from escaping her chest. She thought desperately of how to save him, but came up with nothing. She was no healer, all of the healing magic in their family had gone to…
Norva whirled her head to where Uzume lay, rising once more. She looked at the ground, saw Anankos, and her eyes were filled with a desperation Norva knew all too well. She moved towards the both of them, but hesitated, glanced at Norva warily. Norva nodded her assent, as if it was even a question that she would even think of taking advantage of a truce. Lumbering, limping, to where Anankos lay, she closed her eyes and shrunk down, smaller and smaller, until she was barely visible. Norva closed her eyes as well, and slowed her breathing until it felt as though the world were spinning around her faster. When her eyes opened again, she was beside a woman with long, bright pink hair in a shimmering pink dress. Uzume laid a hand against the now gigantic form of Anankos' body, and exhaled slowly. Dragon Breath was an incredible thing, and possessed almost as much power as the blood in their veins. But in human form, the power was much easier to control, more nuanced. It could be used to heal just as easily as it could be to hurt. If only Norva had been born with such an instinct for healing. Maybe this whole mess would have never happened…
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the gash in Anankos' throat began to close, as sinew and muscle, skin and scales knitted back together. The form of the dragon shrunk, just as their own forms had, and revealed a young boy with sandy brown hair, and an all too innocent face. His eyes fluttered open slowly, and he groaned, but it was a forced, hacking sound. He jumped awake at the noise, as if surprised that such a sound could come from his own body. Norva blinked for a moment in surprise as well, but put it aside as she gently whispered, "Annie? Anankos, it's me. It's Norva." She offered her hands to help him stand up, but he gasped as he recognized her and scrabbled backwards away from her. He tried to cry out, but as he did, the same grinding, doleful noise came from his throat instead of any recognizeable words. He clutched his throat, tried to speak again, and when the noise arose yet a third time, he held his head in both arms, as if to shield his ears from the horrific sound.
Uzume muttered under her breath, "His voice…I healed his throat but…Mother above, I'm a fool..."
Anankos' eyes bored holes into Norva. They were fearful, accusatory. They pierced her heart as fully as any dragon fang ever could.
Norva started to say, "Annie, please, it was an accident, I'm-" but before she could finish, he sprinted away, for the closest body of water, a small pond near where Uzume had landed. He dived in, there was a flash of light, and he was gone.
Norva fell to her knees, and wept bitterly into her hands. She barely noticed Uzume leave, nor did she care. Their battle was over, all the humans from nearby had ceased fighting as soon as the dragons had touched down upon the earth. Norva didn't care that they saw her weep. She had lost almost all of her family now, and the world was a quiet and lonely place.
It was enough to drive one mad...
