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Chapter Three: Freefall

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

The battlefield was complete chaos, and while the addition of four very experienced warriors did seem to help, they were all fighting for their lives by this point. The SeeDs who'd called for reinforcements had been in bad shape, some unable to fight, by the time they'd arrived, and Squall had immediately understood why. The invaders had come with magic and a black dragon large enough to give them a problem on its own. It was currently breathing fire on the field, keeping the SeeDs from truly getting close enough to deal with the magic users. This was ridiculous.

"Selphie, Zell, get those SeeDs out of cover and into the fight again the moment the dragon is distracted. Irvine, try to get a shot on the thing, so we can get rid of it quickly," Squall ordered, and he was rewarded with a few nods and no arguments. They knew better on a battlefield. Zell and Selphie readied themselves to run in, weapons and fists ready, and Squall himself intended to provide the distraction. Irvine's custom-made shotgun was in his hands and he was finding an appropriate angle of fire. Now, it was Squall's turn. Damn, I wish Seifer were here... He couldn't help it, and that did bother him some. He'd fought numerous battles without the blond, and quite a few against him, but he still would have preferred to have him present now. It's time...

With a determined look in his grey-blue eyes, he drew his gunblade and mentally drew on his magic stores, reaching for ice, his specialty. Ice magic came naturally to him, so it was less draining to use and stronger in battle, which was exactly what he needed right now. Both the dragon and the human enemies had ignored the four of them in favor of beating away at the limited cover the SeeDs had taken, and Squall intended to use that to his advantage. Unfortunately, his line of sight was too obscured by the dragon to be able to reach the humans, but that was something he could deal with, and what he'd told the others he was going to. He ran forward, away from Irvine so the beast didn't attack the sharpshooter before he managed to fire, and blasted the thing's jaws with a jet of ice. That was enough to get its attention.

The dragon whipped its head around and breathed fire in Squall's direction, effectively melting the ice it had been struck with, and Squall just leapt aside to avoid being roasted. From the corner of his eye, he could see Zell and Selphie dodging spells and firing their own at the revolutionaries as they ran for the SeeDs. Fortunately, SeeDs aren't all that stupid, so they were on their feet and fighting anew the moment there was a decent distraction. Now, Squall had to make sure his distraction didn't bring about his death, since the dragon was pretty pissed now. Its tail was lashing about and trying to smack him around, which was something he wasn't about to fall for if he could help it. That tail had a set of three long, curved blades on its end, the longest of the three at the very tip, and the brunet didn't much like the idea of being impaled that day. Avoiding the tail was a major goal.

Flames licked at him from a new blast and instead of fleeing, he threw his own ice up to block the flames intent on harming him and rushed forward, ending up right in the creature's face. It seemed surprised to see him, and he swung his gunblade in an arc directed at one of the few sensitive spots Squall was sure of; its eye. The dragon roared its pain and fury, tossing its head up and in the process hitting Squall and sending him sailing through the air with a few bleeding gashes he hadn't had before. He wasn't anywhere close to as badly beaten as he'd been when the serpent had hit him a week previous, but the reminder of that incident was no fun. He was officially not a fan of reptiles

He twisted in the air, placing his feet beneath him like a cat, his hands facing the ground. He called upon ice magic to form a slick ice surface that he struck only seconds later, his intent being to slide down to land safely on the ground. He tasted blood in his mouth from the blow he'd taken, but at least it was nothing serious, merely a busted lip. With a glance around, he realized that he was essentially on his own with the dragon for now, as all of the others had jumped in on the revolutionaries, and Irvine had been swept up into that part of the battle as well, dodging spells and arrows to fire his gun and toss spells in return. That left Squall to handle the dragon, who was now bearing down on him with deadly intent. It seemed his decision to blind it had angered it, who would have guessed?

He dodged out of the way of a new blast of flames, kept running to the sound of jaws crashing shut behind him, and swung backwards with his gunblade only to hear a new roar loud enough to shake the ground he stood on. He could feel the sound reverberating in his chest, and looking up at the creature's tossing head, he could see a new bloody streak across its skull. He missed the other eye, but still hit hard enough to hurt it. He needed more than that if he wasn't going to be eaten, but for right now, chipping away at its skull was better than being worn out running from those teeth. Speaking of which, those teeth were suddenly reaching for him once again, trying to put its pest of an attacker out of its misery. Squall, still not liking the idea of being eaten, shot a new blast of ice in its face to get it to stop its pursuit, and again swung with his gunblade with a strong downward stroke. He intended to take out its other eye this time, which would benefit him to no end. His gunblade never connected.

A small sound of pain left his mouth as something large, the creature's arm he realized too late, struck him from the side in mid-swing, knocking him sprawling onto the rocks strewn across the field of battle, and another yelp issued forth at a sudden shot of pain in his skull. Without even checking to see if he'd actually hurt himself, since he was sure he'd at least be bleeding from someplace on his skull, his head shot up to see what the dragon was up to. He immediately had to roll aside to avoid being staked to the ground by the blades on its tail, and just that movement made him dizzy. It was only then that he placed a hand to the back of his head to find blood. Shit! He really didn't have room for this in the equation, and as he looked around, he could still see nobody else free enough to help. He knew from looking around that he should be grateful that none of the revolutionaries were helping the dragon, and that he had to move before said dragon finally managed to eat him.

Pulling himself to his feet, he leapt backward to once again avoid those jaws, aware that the thing's tail was still stuck in the ground where it was temporarily unable to swing at him, and stumbled backwards over a rock thanks to a new wave of dizziness. He landed on his ass on the ground and actually had to stay put and recover for a moment before he could even consider doing anything else. As he pulled himself to his feet, he caught sight of that gargantuan head coming at him again, and this time, even dodging aside didn't stop or confuse its attack. His grip on his gunblade tightened quite suddenly as a thousand sharp pains tore through his torso and he felt himself being lifted off his feet, rising through the air in the dragon's great maw. A scream tore from his throat as it shook him, his only goal right then being an attempt to cling to the outside of its upper jaw in order to keep his body from moving too much, and it stopped only long enough for him to catch his breath before it started again. He lost his grip on his gunblade and screamed again, which cause him to choke up enough blood to make him worry about the state his lungs were in.

He could barely see a metallic gleam on the ground the next time he was shaken like a dog toy, and wanted to hope that it was his gunblade. He'd rather have some sort of knowledge as to where it was, in case he ever got out of his current situation. It wasn't looking promising, but one could hope. Without hope, what was the sense in fighting? Hyne, I going to die, eaten by a dragon. Right, hope. Of all the things he'd faced and survived, it was a dragon that was going to be his undoing. No! No, he couldn't let that happen, not when he'd only just found Seifer again, and only just realized what they had together. Not when he had so much to lose.

His concentration wasn't trustworthy, he knew that, but he had nothing else to work with, so he had to try. He focused his frazzled mind, and the dragon shook him again, as though sensing what he was doing. Still, it only held his torso in its jaws, his legs hanging helplessly from one side and his shoulders and head from the other. It probably could have eaten him right then, but for some reason it didn't, and he was going to try to take advantage of that. Trying to block out the renewed pain of being shaken and the added dizziness it brought on, he focused on the creation of a single ice spike, praying that it would be enough. He didn't have the strength of concentration to manage another with the beast shaking him around like a dog with a rabbit every few seconds. He gasped for air, the taste of his own blood still strong in his mouth as his magic responded to his call, and though tears of agony and exhaustion fell from his cheeks, the spike formed in his right hand, the hand nearest the blind eye. The dragon wouldn't see it coming, so long as Squall could hang onto the ice long enough to use it. The dragon shook him again, drawing yet another strangled scream from him, and he once again had to cough up blood to keep from drowning in it. From the corner of his eye, he could see a SeeD or two turning their attention to the dragon and himself, but they weren't going to be of any help, he knew that. He had to handle this himself.

He plunged the spike through the creature's already bleeding eye socket, and it in turn screamed and tried to fling him away. The sudden release of the pressure in his chest was at first a relief, and then brought on a new wave of pain as the ribs that had been broken no longer had the support of the teeth holding them in their new place. He held onto the spike, using all of his will right then to ignore the agony that was his body while the momentum of the dragon's attempt to be rid of him, as well as his grip on the ice allowed him to swing up onto the top of its thrashing head. Leaning on one of its horns and hanging on for dear life, he hooked one leg around that horn and grabbed hold of the ice. With one final thrust, both of his hands forced that spike further through the socket, far enough to reach its brain, he hoped. Another violent thrash of its head brought a whole new scream from his throat, again laced with blood, as he heard the leg that had been hooked around the horn snap from the violent movement of his body, and he was pitched from the creature's head. It was a long way down.

With no thrashing and no teeth pressing down on him, it was just a free fall, and surprisingly, no dizziness. He focused his mind one final time, praying he had the strength left in him to finish this before his body broke on the ground, and he once again formed the slick strip of ice to drop him relatively safely on the rock below. It slowed his momentum enough to keep him from harming himself, and had he been in better condition, he have landed on his feet on the rocky ground with time to see the dragon's last thrash before the enormous body fell. As it was though, that wasn't happening. He struck the slick, angled ice with both of his feet, the broken leg shooting excruciating pain up his entire body before collapsing underneath him, and his body struck the ice with a final scream from his throat. He slid the rest of the way on his back and just laid on the ground when he hit, the strength to do anything more not existing in him at that moment. He could hear someone rushing toward him, but he didn't turn to look. He was just too tired, too finished with the fight. He'd gotten himself to the ground safely, and he'd rid the others of the dragon. He was finished, and ready to just sleep.