It wasn't meant to be like this.
It was a simple mission; just take down the few empire soldiers following us and return to our camp. Just like any other mission.
So what went wrong?
He climbed upon my back, eyes burning for blood. But I had talked to him, I had read his mind. No longer did I see only fury in those ocean-deep eyes. no, there was something else. although he hated to admit it, he was scared. Not of the soldiers – he had no reason to be. it was a deeper fear, a fear of himself, of what he had become. The child he had been before his first kill still remained, struggling to control the deep rage that writhed within.
He made up excuses for it. Revenge for his parents, revenge for his kingdom. But I knew better than that. He slaughtered thousands of empire soldiers, yet it was nothing compared to the number of innocents that would fall to his blade if the wilder half got its way. That other half would gladly kill anyone, even his own soldiers. He killed to sate the rage that consumed him. a rage that had always existed, biding its time, waiting for the right moment. And the murder of his family gave it that little push it needed.
I hated him the first time I saw him. Disgusted by his seemingly blood-crazed mind, I made a pact out of necessity only. But now…now I'm not so sure…
He shifted into place between my shoulder blades, the now-familiar weight soothing as he leant forwards to grip my neck. His feelings for me were mixed; he had grown used to me, yet could not forget what it was that killed his parents.
His hand rubbed my neck, and his voice filled my mind, eager yet…sad. Let us cleanse the sky of these vermin.
We soared into the sky, burning their puny human airships. They didn't stand a chance. And like so many times before, I couldn't help but ask. Why does your rage burn fiercer than my fire? Must you slaughter so many?
You know the answer to that, Dragon, he growled. Thoughtful, I did not see an airship that had somehow escaped my fire. It fired at us but I rolled out of the way, laughing at how pathetic they looked. But then another appeared – was it an ambush?
They fired simultaneously, and I had but a moment to decide what to do. I risked flying up, but another airship fired at us, clipping the base of my neck.
An ambush! The cheating dogs! The missile had barely hurt me – my scales were made to stand up against far more – but the same could not be said for the human. His hand was badly burnt and blood flowed freely from a gash on his forehead.
Growling in frustration, I folded my wings and dived towards the ground.
Dragon! What are you doing!
You fool, you're hurt!
It is nothing, he snarled. Fight them!
We both knew that another hit would most likely kill him, but the rage had taken over completely. I could feel the madness in his thoughts.
Fight them! It was a direct order. And pact partners cannot resist direct commands. Resisting with every move, my body angled up, wings flaring as he pulled us out of the dive. I knew it was a mistake. He knew it was. But he couldn't fight the madness, just as I couldn't fight him.
Caim!
We were hit again, but he merely laughed wildly and directed me upwards, blasting a ship to pieces. Filling my mind with his screams he destroyed the reinforcements that arrived until none remained but the ship that had first hit us.
Caim! Enough!
Ignoring me, we sped towards the final ship. We didn't doge the missile. His screams distracted me, and he was too overcome with bloodlust to notice.
It wasn't very powerful. Had he been at full strength, he would have been fine. But the blood blinded him and his wounded hand meant he couldn't keep hold. The world seemed to slow down as he slipped from my back, unconscious from loss of blood and head injury.
And he fell.
CAIM!
Screaming I hurled myself at the airship, my fire turning it to ash in a matter of seconds. Not wasting another moment I dived, trying to catch up with his falling body. A small part of my mind noticed how small he seemed then, like a single grain of sand in a desert.
CAIM!
I was moving so fast flames licked at the edges of my wings. But still I accelerated, driven by something I thought I'd never feel. Fear.
Finally I reached him, grasping him in my talons. But we were far too close to the earth – there was no time to pull up. Closing my eyes I tucked myself into a ball, careful to cushion him as much as possible. When we first hit the ground I heard a bone snap, followed by intense pain. Resisting the urge to open up the protective cocoon, I gritted my teeth and bore through it until we finally came to a stop. Uncurling, I released my hold on the human, hissing when I saw my talons had pierced his side. Thankfully the cuts weren't deep – he'd be dead if they were. Compared to his other wounds, they were mere scratches.
"Idiot!" I screamed aloud. "The IDIOT! He knew he wouldn't stand a chance, he knew!"
I wanted to rage and rant, but I knew there was no time. He would die soon, and take me down with him. and I wouldn't be able to do anything. Limping over to him – a rib had snapped during the fall – I tried to nudge him awake. But he was already at the edge of life. I could feel my strength diminishing, my sight blurring.
You idiot…I muttered to him.Helpless, I sank down beside him. You bloody idiot.
It was then that I remembered my mother. The mind does that sometimes. In the face of death, you think of someone random. My mother had been quite unusual for a dragon; she had been a healer. It was her fire. Somehow she managed to control it enough to harness its energy. It was a talent few possessed, but apparently it was hereditary.
Wait…
What I was about to do was extremely risky. Either I would manage it and he would live, or I messed up and burnt him to a crisp. But really, did I have a choice?
Focusing my mind on the energy I forced the fire to listen to me. Forced it to heal. it took far too many tries to be comforting. But I ploughed ahead.
I blasted a ball of fire at him.
The flames consumed him immediately. I held my breath, fearing what would come next. When I realised I wasn't dead yet, I noticed that the flames weren't red or orange, but blue.
Glowing with an almost holy light, it surrounded him completely until his whole body was outlined in flickering flames. He looked…beautiful, really. Features highlighted by the pale blaze, he seemed calm and at peace, so different from his usually torn expression. Slowly his skin sealed up, bones resetting themselves as new tissue formed over his burnt hand. But then I realised something. with each moment the flame existed, my own life force was draining away – I was already weak and drowsy. No wonder my mother always looked so exhausted. I cut off my mind from the flame, and it disappeared instantly.
Gasping from the strain, I dragged myself over to him, curling protectively around him. It had taken so much energy that most of the healing was only skin deep. It seemed that only time would tell whether we would survive or not.
Lying there beside him, praying with all my might that he would live, I suddenly realised why. I didn't care anymore if I would die. I cared too much for him that I would gladly give my life for him. It was idiotic really. A dragon cared for herself only, and to hell with the human race.
Damned human…
A few nights later he stirred, and I couldn't help feeling my heart rise. His eyes fluttered open – the same colour eyes, I noticed, as that of the Healing Flame. That same piercing blue that seemed to see into my soul.
Ah. So, you're awake.
He sat up, winced, decided against it, then rest his head against my leg. I'm an idiot.
No argument there.
I almost got us killed…
It's alright. It doesn't matter. Well, it does, with the whole world resting on your puny shoulders and all, but still.
Oh yes, you've really cheered me up.
You're welcome.
It was comforting, trading the odd insult whilst both secretly glad the other was alive.
It was the rage. It just kept burning…
Hush. Don't dwell on what you cannot help.
But I can. I can change it, I'm just so weak!
The conversation had worn him out, and he fell against me, eyelids heavy. I nudged him gently with my snout.
Sleep. You're far too hurt.
He laughed softly, wincing as pain shot up his side. One would almost think you care. You aren't getting soft, are you?
Sleep, I said more firmly. It was embarrassing enough admitting it to myself without the actual object of my affections knowing it too.
Stubborn as ever, he tried to keep talking to me, but soon dozed off. Watching him fondly, I rested my head beside his form, purring softly despite the pain from my rib. Being near him seemed to heal me more than any spell or potion.
Goodnight, my crazy fool.
