Jessi: Bad Jessi, bad. I have to get more a more regular updating schedule…
Okay, so this time I was in France…
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"You!" Cabl snarled, his hands clenching into fists, unmindful of the claws that dug into his palms. He howled and the soft music, the spell that had broken his enchantment on Tiamet, abruptly ceased.
He readied himself, glancing across at the other deity. The platinum dragon was angry still, but without his spell of madness Tiamet was still rational, able to reason and plan. He was far more dangerous now than when he'd gone berserk.
Kereska struck first, unleashing her breath weapon, a crackling stream of blue and silver sparks.
He blinked away, smirking up at her. Teeth dug into his arm and he hissed, furious that he'd missed the male god's approach. Magic surged upwards into the platinum dragon and his other four heads howled. The fifth however, dragged him to one side, still clutching his arm.
The little, yellow-haired creature came into view, one hand touching a shiny bauble at her throat. She was chanting quickly, her voice rising as she neared the end of her incantation.
Realising this, Cabl seized Tiamet's golden head by its "beard" of whisker-like tendrils and pulled it in front of him just as the chant finished.
A golden beam of light shot from the female's out-spread hand, missing Cabl and instead hitting his make-shift shield of the deity's head.
The spell did no damage to the god but it did give the blood-stained Cabl a chance to retaliate. A wall of force slammed into the small mammal, lifting her off her feet. She bounced when she hit the ground and then was still, limbs sprawled out.
The platinum dragon growled and pulled his head back sharply, his teeth tightening their grip. Cabl's arm came away with a tearing sound, his own blood pouring from the stump to mingle with Chelevva's. Tiamet flung the severed limb away, his sharp fangs no longer white but crimson.
Kereska began to chant and the earth around Cabl began to shake and tremble. Tiamet teleported away towards the yellow-haired female while the blood-stained monster levitated above the heaving earth, turning towards the female dragon.
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Tiamet barked in alarm when he reached Vale's side. She was unconscious and her breathing was shallow. On one side of her head her golden hair had turned crimson from some wound.
He laid the flat of his claw across her forehead, platinum light flowing into her. For several nerve-wreaking heartbeats nothing happened.
Finally she groaned and stirred, her eyes fluttering briefly open before closing again.
The Dragon God smiled in relief and spoke the words to another spell. This time, a pale, translucent dome grew up around her.
"Stay safe Vale…" his cleric well-protected behind his shield Tiamet leapt into the air on newly healed wings to join the fight beside his resurrected mate.
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Keresa hummed as she cast another spell, in her musical voice. Air elementals of all sizes appeared, their bodies with seemingly no more substance than the wind. At the former deity's command they swarmed around her opponent.
They proved to be only a small annoyance to the blood-stained monster for he could easily dodge even the elementals' swift blows. But it did distract him enough to stop him regenerating his arm and, Kereska hoped, to stop him attacking. At least for a moment. But she knew that was all she could do; it was not her task or her mates to rid the world of the abomination before her.
A terrible shriek arose from the elementals as a great torrent of magic tore its way out from their midst. Kereska barked as the attack - too large to dodge – streamed towards her.
Abruptly she was looking at the beam roaring through empty space on the other side of the battlefield. Tiamet released the edge of her wing, the ripples in the Weave, an after-effect of his teleportation spell, fading.
He hovered beside her, summoning reinforcements, gigantic earth elementals that ripped themselves up from the grey soil. Most of his heads focused on her, jewel-like eyes filled with affection but veiled by worry and sorrow.
"Kerrie…" he shook himself, returning to the matter at hand, "What is he Kereska? He knew you."
The blue-and-silver dragon sighed, the rich and familiar voice of her mate temporarily drowning out her own fear. Her own voice, when she spoke, was grim,
"He is… Sjach..."
"Sjach," Tiamet frowned. He knew that word. It was the Ancient Draconic for shadow, "So he is a creature of shadow then, from the Shadow Plane?"
"No," she shuddered then flicked her wings so that she faced her mate in the air. There was no time for conversation. Instead she sent sounds, images and information directly to the other deity.
Tiamet's eyes widened. Among this information were the memories of his mate, old memories, before the events of the Dragon God War, even before he and Kereska had become mates. But there were memories that were no hers, that had the faded look of second-hand recollections. With a jolt he realised they had been taken from the blood-stained creature below, they had the same feel to them as their opponent's mind. But they must have been obtained long ago and the events they portrayed… well they might have been even older than Tiamet.
He saw the beginning of all things, the creation of light and dark and life. He saw the primordial chaos from which his own species had sprung from.
But he also saw him, Sjach, a reflection of what had been created, an entity through which the Weave did not flow. He had no form, no power without mirroring another, a true reflection. He felt his hatred for those he mirrored, those who could exist independently and had control over the Weave without leeching the power from another's spell. His anger and hatred was especially keen for those deities that could govern the Weave.
He then saw through Kereska's eyes, fighting alone against him, against a creature that had copied her strengths and made them his own. He watched as she sent him into the Beyond – the place behind the Multiverse and far from the reach of mortal and deity alike.
But most of all he felt the fear of his mate… both then and now.