THE OTHER BROTHER
The Deep Roads Expedition
Part IV
9:31 Dragon
The drake swivels its head, which perches at the top of a long, svelte neck, and locks its serpentine eyes on Varric and Carver. It's nostrils flare as it rumbles with a growl. The beast looms over them, at least the height of one full-grown man stacked on the shoulders of another one.
Although small and sleeker than it's female counterpart, the drake is no less viscous. It lunges for Carver with a gnashing of dagger-sized teeth. In his peripheral Carver sees Varric deftly rolling out of the way of the charge. Before Carver can manage to swing his sword, the drake's fringed head catches him in the chest with the force of a sledgehammer. Carver is picked off his feet. He sails backward with no sign of slowing before the wall at the end of the hallway slaps him hard on the back. He drops like a sack of stones.
"Come here, you bastard!" Leveling Bianca at the drake's flank, Varric pulls the trigger in rapid succession. Each bolt nestles into the drake's thick hide. Reflexively the drake lashes out its back leg but Varric dances beyond reach.
Bellowing, the beast tries to squeeze itself into the hallway. Its claws gouge stone as it struggles in the tight space, its barrel-chest and unfurled wings in its way of reaching Carver, who lays in a dazed heap.
Varric winds a crank and reloads Bianca. To Varric's relief, he sees Garrett and Anders are both back on their feet and not worse for wear from their tumble.
Both mages even look a little pissed. Good.
Crooked fingers of electricity scrawl up and down the length of Garrett's arm. He brandishes his staff, coming to slam one end of it into the ground, unleashing a torrent of lightning. It leaps from the top of the staff and pounces upon the drake with a furious hiss. Like hot metal thrust into a barrel of water. With a roar of pain, the drake's body convulses in a series of violent twitches.
The agonized cries prod Carver and he groans, coming to his senses. He must have blacked out when he hit the wall. His empty hand gropes the dusty floor for a sign of his blade. He raises his head and a tide of dizziness swims over him, forcing his head back down. Refusing to give up, he plants his palms on the ground and slowly pushes himself onto his hands and knees. His head hangs like a weighted bucket.
The drake is thrashing not far away, twisting and wriggling to retreat the hallway. Freeing itself, the drake spins towards the dwarf and mages. A froth smears its black gums, reminding Garrett of a rabid mabari he'd once seen.
It thrashes, howling, as Anders strikes it in the chest with a blast of cold from his staff. The mage's eyes are aflame with the vengeful spirit of Justice. The howling crawls up the walls, shaking dust loose from the cavern over their heads.
"We're in trouble here!" Varric shouts, first to notice movement at the far corners of the room. A clutch of dragon juveniles creep toward them from both sides, their tongues tasting the air. Perhaps in anticipation for a nice dwarf-kabob and mage tar tar.
Anders glances at a handful of dragonlings approaching on one side. "Destructive forces of nature, coming up!"
"I'll cover you!" Varric says, catching the worried note in Anders' voice.
Anders begins conjuring. Varric unleashes another three-prong attack from Bianca, instantly killing the nearest dragonlings.
The drake locks its black eyes on Garrett, the end of its tail twitching like a cat eager to pounce. Garrett raises his staff, flame licking at his fingers. A fireball engulfs his arm in a noisy rush. The drake rattles the ground beneath their feet in a roar. With his own cry, Garrett lashes his arm forward, releasing the ball of fire. The tension coiled in the drake's back legs snap and the beast devours the gap between them in a single leap. The fireball explodes. The force of it staggers Garrett backward, the flash of light searing through the gaps in his fingers as Garrett raises a hand to protect his eyes.
The drake sails through the fire, wreathes of flame sliding across its scales no more effectual than garlands of silk. As at home in the blaze as a fish in the sea. Its outstretched claws rake toward Garrett, a rattle of fury in its throat. Garrett wields his staff, delivering a magic bolt with each deliberate sweep of the weapon, barely keeping outside reach.
None of their attacks give the beast pause.
"Anytime, Anders!" Garrett shouts, throwing himself out of the way of the drake's second charge. He rolls onto his back, only to find himself swallowed by the shadow of the beast.
One of its front claws slam him in the chest, effectively pinning him. He can't hear his ribs breaking over the rush of blood in his ears, but he feels it. Garrett yells in pain, too consumed by it to notice his breath swirling off his lips like fog.
It's gotten very cold, very quickly.
The blaze in Anders' eyes has corrupted the rest of him, lending ephemeral cracks to his skin from which shines the very essence of the Fade. A storm is brewing; while anders' long, slender fingers flourish meaningfully, roiling clouds as grey and choppy as the sea envelopes the ceiling.
Varric casts his eyes upward, Bianca sagging in his tired arms. Heaps of dead dragonlings surround he and the Grey Warden.
Carver manages to stagger to the opening of the chamber and leans heavily against the wall to catch his breath. Sweat dampens his hair and it clings to his forehead in dark, inky tangles. A cold wind brushes against him, dusting his hot skin with chips of ice. The droplets trail down his nose and arms, soaking into his blood-encrusted shirt.
Carver glances from Anders in all his magey might and sweeps his gaze across the chamber for his brother.
A deep chill sinks into Carver's bones when he realizes Garrett is trapped under the dragon's claw. A look of grief on their mother's face injects itself into his mind but he shakes it away. "Time to prove something," He whispers to his blade. Carver lurches forward, leaving his cover.
"Varric! Cover me!" Carver shouts, breaking into a run. Surprise crosses Varric's face to see him. But flashing a thumbs-up, Varric levels his crossbow against his shoulder and starts turning the drake's hide into a pin cushion.
The storm rages, slowing the drake down. It's movements are stiff and sluggish, its wings looking like wilted petals. Unfortunately, Carver feels himself succumbing under the same effect. But his advantage is knowing what to expect.
The drake bellows, tendrils of steam as thick as Carver's arms wafting out of it's mouth as it squirms in pain. Each shard of ice breaking against its skin probably feeling like the sharp end of a sword. Still, it refuses to relinquish it's prey. Garrett cries out again straining his hand toward his staff laying outside his reach.
"Rragh!" Ignoring his stiff muscles, Carver forces a final push to reach the drake. The beast notices him through the flurries of snow but not soon enough to stop him.
You'll get one strike, make it count!
With a cry of effort, Carver brings his sword down. His muscles feel like the frayed ends of a rope, barely holding him together. Only then does he realizes his shoulder is dislocated. Carver grimaces, planting the length of the blade inside the soft flesh of the drake's joint at the elbow. He falls to one knee, forcing the blade to carve through meat and tendon. He can feel the sword wedge into bone as he sags over the hilt.
A gout of flame blasts from the drake's mouth in an agonized roar. There is moment of warmth as melted snow rains down like a summer shower, but gone just as quick. The dragon flails it's wounded arm, blood gushing. Carver feels the floor leave his feet.
He sees Garrett laying on the ground below him. Freed. Varric hurries to help Garrett to his feet. Carver opens his mouth to yell, but another roar rips through the storm. The hilt slips out of Carver's hand as he falls. This time Carver remains conscience. Joy. He lands on his dislocated shoulder and stars explode across his vision. Through a haze of pain and the weakening drizzle of snow, he sees Garrett on his feet now, swaying but alive. Varric is playing defense with his crossbow and Anders is staying back on the other side of the room. But from that weird blue light around him, he's not out of the fight.
Varric lets loose another bolt. "I'm too good-looking to die this young. Hawke, we need to –" A violent sweep of a dragon tail knocks Varric half-way to Cumberland. Garret doesn't see the dwarf-shaped heap get up.
The spiked end of the tail returns for Garrett and he jumps out of the way. His consciousness flickers. "We need to finish this!" Garrett grits his teeth. He doesn't need a healer to tell him he's fractured every bone in his chest. He's barely standing and any chance of remaining upright is shrinking fast. An attack on him now will kill him.
The clouds that once stifled the chamber thin, leaving a cool wind ruffling Garrett's robes and sending gentle waves across the leather sails of the drake's wings.
The drake's wild eyes, so round and wide there is no whites to frame their corners, rivet on Garrett. It limps toward him, it's ravaged arm held close to it's chest.
"Anders!" Garrett backs up, each step laced with pain.
"As you say!"
The drake's maw falls open and the black well in it's throat begins to glow, flickering like embers breathing new life. Vapors of heat shimmer in front of the drake's nostrils, flame spreading across its tongue. Garrett frantically looks around for his staff, knowing he could never reach it.
"Anders!" Garrett shouts desperately, raising his arms, bracing himself. A wall of sweltering heat hits, but the consuming fire doesn't come.
"Hawke! Whatever you're going to do, I can't... keep it still...long..."
Garrett opens his eyes. The drake is completely still. Paralyzed. Even its black pupils are fixed to one spot; they don't follow when Garrett lurches toward his staff. He stops himself before trying to pick it up. They can't whittle away at it with conventional magic fast enough. Something more potent is needed.
Like blood.
"Hawke." Anders groans, sinking to one knee. Garrett looks around him in desperation. There is no choice.
He is almost finished carving the inscriptions into his skin when Anders' binding spell buckles. The words well with his blood. Dragon's fire blasts forth, the torrential outpouring swinging toward Garrett. He thrusts his hands into the ether and ensnares the drake with phantom approximations so enormous it looks like the Maker Himself is reaching through the Fade to quash his enemy. The dragon's body spasms, pinned like a moth held apart by its wings. Its flame sputters into harmless wisps.
With a snarl of effort, Garrett wrenches his hands apart. The drake is torn asunder in an angry red eruption.
Spent, Garrett can't resist swooning. He sinks to his knees, looking across the gore-soaked floor to see Anders wearily looking back.
Garrett offers a wan smile.
Varric sits upright with a cackle. "Hawke, you sure know how to get things done."
"That was nothing short of impressive." Anders agrees, slowly getting back on his feet. "It even got the attention of Justice." He walks toward Garrett, side-stepping the spreading blood pooling beneath the eviscerated carcass. As he draws close, Garrett notices how pale the Grey Warden looks.
"Are you feeling alright?" Garrett asks.
"Fine." Anders nods. "A little drained, but that's to be expected."
Garrett looks around. "Carver –"
"I'm here." Carver answers, laying on his back several yards away. He doesn't bother moving. It would be a bad idea with his arm out of its socket. Staying nice and still is a better idea, until his turn for healing. He listens to Garrett hiss in pain as Anders begins to knit him back together, murmuring fretfully over his injuries.
Carver chews on his lower lip as he frowns at the air. Did any of them even notice him when he attacked that dragon, freeing Garrett in the process?
If it weren't for me, we'd all be dead! Carver thinks, bitter.
He's stood in the shadow of his big brother for so long, he's disappearing. And no one will notice when he's gone.
