A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I updated this: I got extremely busy, so busy I didn't even have a chance to write. Much thanks to those who reviewed: As always,if you like this, tell me - it makes my day. If you don't, please explain how I can improve - I'm always looking for good constructive criticism. Enjoy!
Up above the earth, Juliana and Virenyr fought on against the Storm Dragon. Juliana supposed that they were lucky that the Storm Dragon tired at about the same rate they did; it kept them equal. And it was because of that that Virenyr saw their opportunity. The Storm Dragon was fond of soaring above them to dive down…Virenyr was always agile enough to dodge away, forcing the Storm Dragon to turn around in mid air so that his back was never vulnerable.
Perhaps the Storm Dragon made his lair near the coast, where the air was heavier and easier to fly in, or perhaps it was not used to flying so high for such a long length of time, or maybe the air itself in this world was different; Juliana's circlet helped her quickly adjust to the changing pressures and amount of air, and Virenyr had been flying for so long that he didn't notice the differences.
In either case, it soon became clear that the Storm Dragon was tiring, and tiring quickly; it no longer flipped in the air as fast as it once had, its wings laboring to keep it steady.
"Juliana, the next time he dives, hold on tight…and get that lance ready."
"What…?" That was all she had time for; the Storm Dragon was descending on them from above, and Virenyr seized the moment. He shot upwards even as the Strom Dragon was dropping, peaking and curving about to dive so fast even Juliana's stomach flipped; it had been a long time since they needed to do such acrobatics for combat!
But then she saw what Virenyr was talking about; they were dropping down as the Storm Dragon slowly – so slowly – turned to face them once more…no, not dropping. Diving. They used gravity for their benefit, giving them the force of a charge in far less space then Juliana would have thought possible…of course! Juliana realized her dragon's plan now, and snaked the lance tip forward so she gripped the very butt of it, its full length extended before him. She crouched forward and braced herself….
The Storm Dragon had just finished its turn when they were upon it. It had no time to react, much less dodge. The lance was driven deep into the left side of its chest, a fountain of blood spouting out from the mortal wound.
Yes, it was a mortal wound; Juliana knew it even before she saw its red eyes cloud over, before its wings crumpled, before it began to fall. It was in the set of the lance in her hands, the tremors that raced up and down it, the very feel of power behind their dive…
"Juliana, you idiot! Stop daydreaming and let go of the lance! It's going to drag us down with it!"
Oh. Right. She dropped the lance and Virenyr soared high, circling around the falling Storm Dragon. It hit the ground hard, back first, and rolled onto its side, one claw reaching for the lance as if to try and pull it out…but it was still. Damaliti and dragon circled overhead, watching for any signs of movement… "I really hope it's dead. Even more so than that Balor Lord…"
Virenyr concurred. "I think so…" But he was still cautious as he landed some distance away, ready to flee back to the sky if it turned out to be a feint. Juliana kicked her feet out of the stirrups and drew her sword, sliding down off his back to the plains. "What are you doing!"
"Making sure. Besides, I made a promise to Styrander. I'm going to keep it," her tone was grim as she walked forward to the bulk of the evil creature. She nudged it with her toe, then kicked it. Nothing. She had been right the first time; it was dead. But just to be on the safe side…she walked to the base of its head, and chopped downward with her sword. It took three powerful hits for the scales, weakened by the dragon's death, to break open and reveal the flesh. From there on in, it was no harder than butchering a cow.
Her sword and clothing were slick with its blood by the time the head lay separate from the neck, and she was panting from the exertion, but it was worth it. She planted one foot on the side of the lance, and yanked it from the Strom Dragon's body with a wet squelch. Then, she fulfilled her promise to the measure; she speared the head on the lance, and bore it back to Virenyr.
"That is disgusting," he complained as she mounted back up, setting the butt of the lance on her toe for stability, fastening leather straps around the lance to hold it upright, the head dripping blood down onto anything below it: the bronze-black's scales, the saddle leather, Juliana's shoulder, her bow and arrows…
"I know," she sighed, glancing up at the evil head, eyes glazed forever in death. "But look on the bright side: it's over. Can't you feel it?"
As if in response, the rain clouds above them opened, and the gentle storm broke over them, washing away the stench of death and the press of evil. Juliana threw her head back and closed her eyes, letting the rain soak into her coppery hair and splash onto her skin. She was exhausted, but she had won. "Come on, Virenyr…let's see how the rest of the Wings fared."
He spread his wings, and leapt up into the sky, not hampered greatly by the rain, and began a slow flight back towards the city. Down below, Juliana noted Luskan soldiers sitting down on the grass, throwing their weapons to the side, hands on their heads in surrender. Patrols of Neverwinter guards rounded up each group of prisoners, herding them back to the city. Every dungeon and prison would be filled to bursting by the time this was over.
There were other soldiers walking with the Neverwinter guards, too; soldiers marching under different banners, their uniforms varied and unusual. "Who are they?" Juliana wondered aloud.
Virenyr glanced down and gave a mental shrug, "Our reinforcements, that much is clear. Beyond that…how are we to know?"
Juliana chuckled, and leaned forward to pat his neck in praise and thanksgiving. It was then that perhaps the greatest irony of the battle occurred. Down below, a Luskan soldier happened to glance up as the shadow of the dragon and Damalit passed overhead, and saw his chance to make himself a legend. He had fled the battle when it appeared that his side would lose, but if he were to kill one of those strange dragons….! He'd be a hero, not a deserter. So decided, he placed a magical arrow on the string of his bow and bent it back, sighting the dragon…he let the arrow fly, but an axe blade ended his life before he could see its effects.
The soldier was a better shot than he knew; Juliana gave a soft gasp and grunt as the arrow found its way through her armor and into her back, just beneath her shoulder blades. She was surprised that Virenyr didn't notice, but took advantage of that fact; she would not have a huge fuss made over her for a flesh wound!
Reaching up behind her, her fingers found the shaft of the arrow. She almost passed out trying to yank it out, and thought better of that plan…her own blood was making her fingers slick, and black and white sparks where dancing in front of her eyes, but she thought herself too proud to faint or to call out for help.
Somehow, she managed to snap the majority of the wooden shaft, leaving a few inches still sticking up from her back. The feathered fletching slid through her nerves fingers, and she had to think hard about staying awake.
"Juliana? Are you alright?" Virenyr had noticed her strange silence at last.
"I'm…I'm fine. Just tired."
"Ah. Yes, of course. We are almost over the city; why don't I drop you off in the center and you can have a nice rest on the ground until the Flying Fortress gets here? I can certainly take care of sending out scouts and sweep riders…"
"Good…yes. Thank you." She leaned against Virenyr's flexible spinal ridge, gripping it tightly in her fingers to keep from swaying in the saddle, and laid her head down, eyes glazing over as she fought against the blackness that welled up around her.
The next thing she knew was Virenyr's soft voice in her mind as he banked around, explaining to her that there wasn't a large enough open area on the ground to accommodate him, so he was going to land on the flat roof of the largest building…then she felt his wings, just behind her, fan the air, felt his hindclaws seek out the flat stone roof.
"Even this is a bit cramped," he admitted as he arched his wings in an attempt to give her more room.
"It's fine," she reassured as she slid off, leaving the lance where it was, studiously keeping her back to the battlements. The last thing she needed was to have Virenyr fuss over her! She lifted one arm in salute, "Go on; I'll give a shout if I need something,"
He nodded his great head and leapt upwards again, the roof groaning as he rested all his weight on his back claws for a moment. Juliana leaned – albeit carefully – against the battlements, resting her elbows against one, letting it support her weight, as she watched her black-bronze wing his way west, to meet up with the rest of the Wings. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to stop the roof from spinning around her. She was fine. As long as she believed that, she would be.