Author's Note: Eeeexcellent. I have converted Freefall to... THE CAUSE.
*thunder crashes, lightning strikes* O_o Yeah. Ignore me.
The other Dragoons are a bit busy handling the other demons and whatnot. Once they are done fighting there they can help him, but if he gets chomped before then that kind of sucks for everybody.
This is still Rayen's P.O.V., and will remain so until I specify otherwise.
Chapter 68
Just when I thought all hope seemed lost, something hit me. You know the feeling when you realize something so incredibly obvious you feel like stopping whatever you're doing and go bang your head against the wall for a few minutes? Yeah, I was getting one of those.
"I... am such an idiot."
The Dragon Buster. I had kept it after Sean had given it to me during the fight with the Divine Dragon. I hadn't asked him where he got it. I figured he wouldn't know himself, and I didn't want to jinx whatever magnificent force of luck we had on our side. I had taken it for granted, keeping it with me more as a source of comfort than anything else, a lot like the gem of the Dragon Block Staff. I was weird like that. However, this time it might actually help. Surprise, surprise.
Because the Guardian Dragoon armor didn't have any pockets, the Dragon's skull was always shifted to my belt. There it hung on the steel clip, plain as day. I sighed, berating myself for my own ineptitude as I undid the clasp. I slipped it onto my right hand, grasping the magical handle that would cause the blade to appear. The pale yellow blade appeared as usual, or at least at first.
But then the Dragon Buster began to change. The sickly yellow blade turned to a shimmering azure, as blue as the sky above, had it not been covered by an oppressive blanket of midwinter clouds. Then, I watched in horror as the Dragon skull began to disintegrate in my hand! As the dust slipped through my fingers, I let go of the weapon in surprise. There was a clatter, and I looked down. The blade had somehow managed to separate itself from the skull, and sat on the ground, now sporting an intricate hilt of silver carved with symbols I recognized as the Wingly language. I picked it up, looking it over. I could decipher some of the characters inscribed on the new weapon, but among the unfamiliar ones it all came out as garbled nonsense. My study of the Wingly language was cut short when I was forced to skip school, and I doubted even Kyra would be able to recognize some of these symbols. They looked that old.
Well, I can honestly say I have no idea what happened to it, but I formulated my best guess. The magic of the Guardian Dragoon must have affected the ancient weapon, and had taken the blade from the skull in the process. The skull, having been released from the preserving Wingly magic, had succumbed to the workings of time, crumbling into powder. I had no idea what difference the Creator thought it would make, but it didn't bother me much. Whatever floated his boat.
I picked up the new and improved Dragon Buster and swung it a few times, testing its weight and its balance. A bit lighter than Birathion, but not bad. I turned to the Dragon, who appeared to have finally recovered from my last spell. The cloud of frost had been a lucky shot, I knew. It had been firing blind, disoriented but caught up in its advantage of surprise, not wanting to let it slip away.
As it lunged, I raised my new weapon in defense. The effect was instantaneous and almost comical. The Dragon's malicious eyes widened in stark terror, and it stopped and backed up so quickly I could have sworn it got tangled up in its own coils. It obviously knew what the Dragon Buster was and had no particular desire to fall into its deadly trap. But it made little difference. One way or another, I would kill this godforsaken thing.
I dove, making sure the flaming blade of the Dragon Buster was in plain sight. Of course, the Dragon withdrew, always keeping its distance. This wouldn't work if I couldn't get close enough to the monster to kill it. I needed a plan, or I would just run out of Spirit energy. I only needed one hit and let the Dragon Buster do its work, but how to get that blow in was the problem.
As I hovered slowly in the air, I got a sudden burst of inspiration. I darted in towards the head, then once it backed up, I banked sharply to the right, the Dragon Buster plunging through the air. I heard a piercing shriek of pain, and I withdrew the ancient sword to discover it shining with blood, but when I looked up, the Dragon was still alive, but it was bleeding profusely from its tail section. I glanced to the snowy earth below, to find a patch soaked with red, where the maimed stump of the tail lay. Damn, I needed to leave the blade in the wound in order for the magic to take hold. This would be more difficult than I had thought.
By this time, I noticed an acute pain in my back. My wings were aching. Just like any other appendage, they got tired after constant motion. After spending too much time getting too little accomplished, I was beginning to wear down. I needed to finish this fast. But first I had to return to the ground. I could fight the battle on my legs just as easily, and it would give my wings time to recuperate, if such time was even needed.
As I glided to the earth below, the Dragon decided to play yet another underhanded trick. Positioning its head nearly level with the ground, it breathed a plume of ice that coated the snow below. My metal boots could gain no traction on the slick surface, and I slipped, falling onto my back. The metal grated on the ice, which caused a shower of sparks to cascade around me, contrasting eerily with the bleak surroundings. But then I slammed into something, sending pain shooting through my back. I heard a loud cracking noise, and I could only hope my wings hadn't broken.
But then I heard a shattering sound, and I gazed back just to see what the hell was going on. My wings were undamaged, but more importantly, I had accidentally rammed into the glacier the Dragon had made earlier. Even more crucial, Birathion lay among the shards of ice. I wasted no time, scooping it up and grabbing the Dragon Buster from where I had dropped it when I had fallen. With both blades in hand, I soared back into the air. Searing pain shot through my back, but it would get no better anyway. Best to get this over with as quickly as possible anyway. The ruby and emerald streaks grew as I summoned what little remained of my magic.
"Trails of flame burn behind the gleaming swords, their legacy left only in their destruction. Twin Blade Tornado."
Both Birathion and the Dragon Buster began to blaze, the Protector with a crimson light, the Dragon Buster merely intensifying its own eerie blue flames. I began to spin them in a complex pattern I had no idea I even knew. My own eyes lost track of the movement, so I resolved not to attempt to follow them and focus on the titan who would eventually bear the brunt of this assault. Winds whipped around me, and my wings ached no longer. The gale would assist me in all the flying this spell would require.
I shot forward like one of Victor's bullets, slicing and thrusting with speed that surprised even me. But there was something wrong. Every time I moved in with a blow, the blade stopped short, not penetrating skin. Too late, I realized what had been done. The Dragon had anticipated what the spell would do and erected a physical shield to stop the Dragon Buster from finishing it off. It was suffering slightly from the magic that burst whenever the sword came in contact with the shield, but nothing more. If I didn't figure out something fast, what was left of my magic would be totally wasted.
I pulled back, hoping the Dragon would take the bait. It rose to the occasion, hoping to catch me off guard as it spat out a jet of pressurized water. This was the opportunity I had been waiting for. I spun to the left and dove. I smiled as the Dragon's fate began to dawn on it. It was too late to escape.
Jackpot.
The ancient Wingly blade pierced right between the Dragon's eyes, sinking neatly through the skull. I did not have long to wait. The Dragon shuddered once, then fell limp. On a whim, I sliced open the Dragon's left eye, and a glittering sapphire stumbled into my palm. I lifted it up to the light, wondering if it was an indication that these things still had some sort of a soul, or just an annoying quirk the Murderer was unable to get rid of.
Shade walked slowly towards me, his own armor fading. As he put his own Spirit away, he lifted two others, a Red-Eye and a Dark. The first casualties of the war. In an army that could not be more than three hundred, we could not afford to lose any more than was absolutely necessary. The Spirits would move on, but we could not spend time hunting across the planet for the owners. We didn't have that particular liberty.
I sighed heavily. Shade looked at me. "Are you going to do it anyway?"
"Yes. We can't keep sitting here like this. It won't win us this war."
"It will be different once we get to the other side. Here it's easy. There you'll have to factor in food, logistics, terrain..."
"I know, I know. I've thought about this as much as you have. What do you think?"
Shade shook his head. "I think what I've always thought. I've supported this from the beginning. If this was my army, we'd be on the other side already, populace be damned. But I'm not the commander of this army. You are."
"Yeah." I sighed. "I'll make the announcement first thing tomorrow. They won't need any more provocation than this."
"And so the second stage begins."
"Indeed it does."
Author's Note: Thanks for that, Shade. I was thinking the same thing, although when I looked back, my comment was more along the lines of, "Damn, what total and absolute crap I was writing back then." Yeah, so I'm a little pessimistic. Sue me.
The other Dragoons are a bit busy handling the other demons and whatnot. Once they are done fighting there they can help him, but if he gets chomped before then that kind of sucks for everybody.
This is still Rayen's P.O.V., and will remain so until I specify otherwise.
Chapter 68
Just when I thought all hope seemed lost, something hit me. You know the feeling when you realize something so incredibly obvious you feel like stopping whatever you're doing and go bang your head against the wall for a few minutes? Yeah, I was getting one of those.
"I... am such an idiot."
The Dragon Buster. I had kept it after Sean had given it to me during the fight with the Divine Dragon. I hadn't asked him where he got it. I figured he wouldn't know himself, and I didn't want to jinx whatever magnificent force of luck we had on our side. I had taken it for granted, keeping it with me more as a source of comfort than anything else, a lot like the gem of the Dragon Block Staff. I was weird like that. However, this time it might actually help. Surprise, surprise.
Because the Guardian Dragoon armor didn't have any pockets, the Dragon's skull was always shifted to my belt. There it hung on the steel clip, plain as day. I sighed, berating myself for my own ineptitude as I undid the clasp. I slipped it onto my right hand, grasping the magical handle that would cause the blade to appear. The pale yellow blade appeared as usual, or at least at first.
But then the Dragon Buster began to change. The sickly yellow blade turned to a shimmering azure, as blue as the sky above, had it not been covered by an oppressive blanket of midwinter clouds. Then, I watched in horror as the Dragon skull began to disintegrate in my hand! As the dust slipped through my fingers, I let go of the weapon in surprise. There was a clatter, and I looked down. The blade had somehow managed to separate itself from the skull, and sat on the ground, now sporting an intricate hilt of silver carved with symbols I recognized as the Wingly language. I picked it up, looking it over. I could decipher some of the characters inscribed on the new weapon, but among the unfamiliar ones it all came out as garbled nonsense. My study of the Wingly language was cut short when I was forced to skip school, and I doubted even Kyra would be able to recognize some of these symbols. They looked that old.
Well, I can honestly say I have no idea what happened to it, but I formulated my best guess. The magic of the Guardian Dragoon must have affected the ancient weapon, and had taken the blade from the skull in the process. The skull, having been released from the preserving Wingly magic, had succumbed to the workings of time, crumbling into powder. I had no idea what difference the Creator thought it would make, but it didn't bother me much. Whatever floated his boat.
I picked up the new and improved Dragon Buster and swung it a few times, testing its weight and its balance. A bit lighter than Birathion, but not bad. I turned to the Dragon, who appeared to have finally recovered from my last spell. The cloud of frost had been a lucky shot, I knew. It had been firing blind, disoriented but caught up in its advantage of surprise, not wanting to let it slip away.
As it lunged, I raised my new weapon in defense. The effect was instantaneous and almost comical. The Dragon's malicious eyes widened in stark terror, and it stopped and backed up so quickly I could have sworn it got tangled up in its own coils. It obviously knew what the Dragon Buster was and had no particular desire to fall into its deadly trap. But it made little difference. One way or another, I would kill this godforsaken thing.
I dove, making sure the flaming blade of the Dragon Buster was in plain sight. Of course, the Dragon withdrew, always keeping its distance. This wouldn't work if I couldn't get close enough to the monster to kill it. I needed a plan, or I would just run out of Spirit energy. I only needed one hit and let the Dragon Buster do its work, but how to get that blow in was the problem.
As I hovered slowly in the air, I got a sudden burst of inspiration. I darted in towards the head, then once it backed up, I banked sharply to the right, the Dragon Buster plunging through the air. I heard a piercing shriek of pain, and I withdrew the ancient sword to discover it shining with blood, but when I looked up, the Dragon was still alive, but it was bleeding profusely from its tail section. I glanced to the snowy earth below, to find a patch soaked with red, where the maimed stump of the tail lay. Damn, I needed to leave the blade in the wound in order for the magic to take hold. This would be more difficult than I had thought.
By this time, I noticed an acute pain in my back. My wings were aching. Just like any other appendage, they got tired after constant motion. After spending too much time getting too little accomplished, I was beginning to wear down. I needed to finish this fast. But first I had to return to the ground. I could fight the battle on my legs just as easily, and it would give my wings time to recuperate, if such time was even needed.
As I glided to the earth below, the Dragon decided to play yet another underhanded trick. Positioning its head nearly level with the ground, it breathed a plume of ice that coated the snow below. My metal boots could gain no traction on the slick surface, and I slipped, falling onto my back. The metal grated on the ice, which caused a shower of sparks to cascade around me, contrasting eerily with the bleak surroundings. But then I slammed into something, sending pain shooting through my back. I heard a loud cracking noise, and I could only hope my wings hadn't broken.
But then I heard a shattering sound, and I gazed back just to see what the hell was going on. My wings were undamaged, but more importantly, I had accidentally rammed into the glacier the Dragon had made earlier. Even more crucial, Birathion lay among the shards of ice. I wasted no time, scooping it up and grabbing the Dragon Buster from where I had dropped it when I had fallen. With both blades in hand, I soared back into the air. Searing pain shot through my back, but it would get no better anyway. Best to get this over with as quickly as possible anyway. The ruby and emerald streaks grew as I summoned what little remained of my magic.
"Trails of flame burn behind the gleaming swords, their legacy left only in their destruction. Twin Blade Tornado."
Both Birathion and the Dragon Buster began to blaze, the Protector with a crimson light, the Dragon Buster merely intensifying its own eerie blue flames. I began to spin them in a complex pattern I had no idea I even knew. My own eyes lost track of the movement, so I resolved not to attempt to follow them and focus on the titan who would eventually bear the brunt of this assault. Winds whipped around me, and my wings ached no longer. The gale would assist me in all the flying this spell would require.
I shot forward like one of Victor's bullets, slicing and thrusting with speed that surprised even me. But there was something wrong. Every time I moved in with a blow, the blade stopped short, not penetrating skin. Too late, I realized what had been done. The Dragon had anticipated what the spell would do and erected a physical shield to stop the Dragon Buster from finishing it off. It was suffering slightly from the magic that burst whenever the sword came in contact with the shield, but nothing more. If I didn't figure out something fast, what was left of my magic would be totally wasted.
I pulled back, hoping the Dragon would take the bait. It rose to the occasion, hoping to catch me off guard as it spat out a jet of pressurized water. This was the opportunity I had been waiting for. I spun to the left and dove. I smiled as the Dragon's fate began to dawn on it. It was too late to escape.
Jackpot.
The ancient Wingly blade pierced right between the Dragon's eyes, sinking neatly through the skull. I did not have long to wait. The Dragon shuddered once, then fell limp. On a whim, I sliced open the Dragon's left eye, and a glittering sapphire stumbled into my palm. I lifted it up to the light, wondering if it was an indication that these things still had some sort of a soul, or just an annoying quirk the Murderer was unable to get rid of.
Shade walked slowly towards me, his own armor fading. As he put his own Spirit away, he lifted two others, a Red-Eye and a Dark. The first casualties of the war. In an army that could not be more than three hundred, we could not afford to lose any more than was absolutely necessary. The Spirits would move on, but we could not spend time hunting across the planet for the owners. We didn't have that particular liberty.
I sighed heavily. Shade looked at me. "Are you going to do it anyway?"
"Yes. We can't keep sitting here like this. It won't win us this war."
"It will be different once we get to the other side. Here it's easy. There you'll have to factor in food, logistics, terrain..."
"I know, I know. I've thought about this as much as you have. What do you think?"
Shade shook his head. "I think what I've always thought. I've supported this from the beginning. If this was my army, we'd be on the other side already, populace be damned. But I'm not the commander of this army. You are."
"Yeah." I sighed. "I'll make the announcement first thing tomorrow. They won't need any more provocation than this."
"And so the second stage begins."
"Indeed it does."
Author's Note: Thanks for that, Shade. I was thinking the same thing, although when I looked back, my comment was more along the lines of, "Damn, what total and absolute crap I was writing back then." Yeah, so I'm a little pessimistic. Sue me.