Yeah, I'm not even going to bother with an intro. I'm just going to be hiding under my rock.
The Council came early the next morning. Within just a few hours, a specialized lock was placed on Tornado's stall. The muzzle was tightened. A sedative injection was prepared. The wind dragon would die that night. The Council never wasted time once a decision was made.
Ozpin, of course, begged and pleaded with them. "There are brooderies that will take him," he assured them, even as he tried to think of one that could handle a dragon like Tornado, and that hadn't already rejected him. "Just let me relocate him!"
"It's too dangerous to be placed in a broodery," the head representative said, his glare stern and pitiless. "You should have called us sooner. It would have meant less suffering for the creature's Rider."
Ozpin was helpless. All he could do was give the order to all students and professors to lock their dragons away, and then order them back to their rooms until an announcement was made.
Dragons were noble creatures with a clear sense of right and wrong. While they could be made to fight each other, it was always with reluctance, and never with a wish to kill. There were few exceptions to this.
Even Ragnar, the oldest and wisest of the dragons, lost all reason when he realized what was about to happen. He was calm and collected whenever he discussed culling, and when he talked about problems happening elsewhere. But he was a dragon, a professor's dragon, and Tornado was a dragonet, one of his students. All knowledge of the Council, of human laws, and of what would happen to him if he did what he wanted to do vanished.
He fought Ozpin every step of the way, howling and roaring and thumping the ground with his mighty tail. Ozpin fought back grimly, yanking on the rope on his halter. Ragnar could have tossed his Rider away, could have easily overpowered him, but his love for Ozpin kept him at bay. It was ultimately this that led to him being locked away in the earth stable, which was shut up with special metal doors that were only brought down during times like these.
The other professors suffered similar ordeals. Glynda, tears in her eyes, was forced to swat Nautilus's nose with her riding crop, battering his face as he backed away from her and let out long, mournful cries that echoed across the grounds.
Pepper actually hurt Peter Port a great deal as he forced her into the fire stable. She swatted him with large paws, leaving scratches on his skin that she would later lick clean. Now, however, she was full of rage and betrayal, unable to even vocalize human words. Any dragon near her, however, would hear the string of curses that left her mouth, hotter than any fire.
Gust put up the worst fight of all, flapping her wings like a pair of flags during a thunderstorm, trying to blow her Rider away from her as he reached for the rope. He ended up diving for it when she stopped to breathe.
"I'm so sorry, love," Bartholomew sobbed. "There's nothing else to be done!"
The wind dragon threw her head back, bellowing as loud as she could in the vain hope that her problematic student would hear her and somehow be able to flee. Of course, her desperate last effort came to naught.
The stalls were locked, and the stables were bolted. The dragons who knew what was going to happen slashed at the metal doors with insufficient claws. The fire dragons breathed fires that wouldn't catch. The water dragons made floods that ultimately washed down the draining systems. The wind dragons whipped up hurricanes of hay and sawdust. The earth dragons made cracks appear in the ground, but were unable to do enough to get them out in time.
Ozpin wept as he walked away from the sound of Ragnar savagely beating the door with his tail. He envied his dragon's pure-heartedness, the way he could so easily throw aside everything to do what he knew was right. Ozpin knew things weren't so simple, that he had to play the game and remain in his position, so that he could be there to save other dragons that would otherwise be in danger.
Still, part of him wished that he could just rip his human skin away, toss aside every Council member before him, and fly off into the distance with the poor dragonet in his arms.
Sky remained in Tornado's stall, hugging his dragon tightly, biting back tears. They were coming with the injection, and he would not let Tornado spend his last waking moments watching his Rider cry. Instead, he stroked his beautiful, vicious, uncontrollable, loyal dragon's neck. He told Tornado what a good dragon he was, what a badass fighter he was. He talked about how they'd easily pull ahead of Nimbus in flight class, how he promised to play with him outside even more once spring came around. He fed Tornado apples and raw meat out of his hand, not flinching when the dragon's sharp fangs scraped his skin.
Tornado had never been happier! His Sky was with him so much now. They hadn't even needed to go to those boring classes today! "Good Sky," he purred. "Food Sky." He ate another apple, belching loudly, creating a ripple in the air.
Sky choked back a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Of course, you'd get your powers now, he thought. And of course, they would show themselves in a freaking belch!
The Councilman came with the injection. Sky knew it would do no good to beg for more time. He curled up between his dragon's front paws, listening to that mighty heartbeat, whispering nonsense at this point. Tornado nuzzled his back, rumbling happily, nipping at his arm, leaving little red dots. Then, the heartbeat slowed. A large, green head slumped down to the ground. Tornado let out a snore, his paws twitching.
The Council lashed ropes to the sleeping dragon and dragged him outside, toward the open field.
It was Specter who saw what was happening. Specter, the only dragon who still kept his shutters open in this freezing weather, saw Tornado being dragged away, and knew what was happening immediately. Ao Guang had talked about the ugly "culling," and about the threat to Tornado, though he hadn't been worried at the time. He had been convinced that nothing so horrible could happen.
Specter threw his head back and let out a piercing whistle. "They're taking Tornado! They're going to kill him!" All enmity with the CRDL dragons was forgotten as Specter breathed ice at the door, hoping to freeze and break it.
Pit sprang into action immediately. Sorry, Nautilus, he thought as he narrowed his eyes and focused on his stall's lock.
Ozpin was standing in the field, watching with trembling hands as the green form of Tornado was dragged across the dirt like a giant bag of refuse. The indignity of it all made bile rise in his throat. He watched Sky, ready to offer what shallow comfort he could, and was heartbroken but understanding when his student shot him a spiteful glare before turning resolutely away.
You have every right to hate me, he thought miserably. I failed both of you.
Pit could barely hear the sound of Tornado being dragged away over the anguished, desperate cries of Mudslide, Barracuda, and Tank. He knew he wouldn't have time to free anyone else. He had to stop this on his own!
Sky knelt next to his dragon, noticing how peaceful Tornado's thin face looked, how relaxed his head fins were. He allowed the tears to fall as he glared at the approaching executioner, daring him to laugh or make a comment.
The man held a special gun, one that fired not a bullet, but a metal spike, similar to what some farmers used to quickly kill farm animals. He loaded the spike, and knelt in front of Tornado, his expression unreadable.
Click. The lock was open.
Pit burst from his stall, running faster than he ever had before. In his desperation, he opened his wings, pumping them against the air, trying to gain some momentum. For a moment, he was lifted fully off the ground.
In that moment, he heard a hiss of air, then a loud thunk.
He stumbled to the ground and skidded to a halt yards away from Tornado's body. He saw the blood trickling down the wind dragon's head. Too late! His paws shook. His legs trembled. Throwing his head back, he howled.
In the freshman stalls, the other dragons took up the cry. Mudslide was louder than anyone, her deep, booming bellow ringing off every building like the echo of a funeral bell.
Pit was so deep in grief, he didn't notice the humans rushing him until they were almost upon him. He jumped back with a yelp of surprise, feeling immense relief when Ozpin ran over and stood in front of the bad men.
"Hold it! Don't make him more agitated!"
"Why's that dragon out of its stall, Ozpin?" one of the soldiers growled.
"I don't know. It looks like the door wasn't closed correctly. Please stand down." Ozpin turned to Pit. "Hush, now. Go back to your stall. There's nothing else you can do. Please trust me."
Pit blinked wearily at Ozpin, suddenly feeling very tired. He did trust Ozpin. Ozpin was Ragnar's Rider, after all. Later, he would start to question why he was so ready to trust someone who had stood by while Tornado died. Just then, however, he obeyed and walked back to his stall, staring at the ground as Ozpin locked the door behind him.
"I assure you, his Rider will be disciplined," Ozpin said. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to contact the rest of Sky's team, so their dragons can say goodbye."
"We need to dispose of the body," the lead Councilman said.
Ozpin's eyes flashed. "You came to my dragonry and killed one of my dragons. You may have had the legal right to do so, but don't think I'm going to show you any courtesy if you won't show any to the dragon, his Rider, or his team. They will be allowed to say goodbye. That's final."
In the end, the men stepped off, grumbling to each other as they set about preparing the transport that would take Tornado's body to be disposed of.
Sky was curled up in the curve of Tornado's forelegs, clinging to the rapidly-fading warmth in those green scales. He sobbed his heart out, nuzzling a head frill that now felt like a dead flower petal.
Russel and Dove came immediately. They released their dragons, along with Mudslide. They knew Cardin wouldn't be coming down, after all.
The three dragons ran to their brother's side, letting out small sounds of distress and anger. Tank stopped a few feet away, staring blankly with dull amber eyes. He sat down, his face a mask of numb horror. His wings trembled as he bowed his head and sniffed.
Barracuda barreled toward her brother, bashing her head against his side, causing Sky to be dislodged. "Come on, idiot!" she barked. "Wake up!" When Tornado didn't move, she roared, her voice ringing with unshed tears. "Don't play games with me, you crazy moron! Wake up!" She moved to his front, smacking his face with a forepaw. "Come on!"
Mudslide shoved Barracuda away before she could strike the corpse again. "Stop it!" she growled. "He's dead, okay? He's not waking up!" She stared down at her brother, at his motionless limbs and dead face with a hole in the brow. He didn't even look like Tornado anymore. This was just a dead thing that was shaped like him.
She gently nudged her brother's head, then collapsed to the ground. "Why?" she breathed. "We were the strongest team. Why did this happen?" She turned to Sky, who was watching her with watery eyes, and opened a wing for him to crawl under.
When Sky moved close to her and sobbed against her side, she felt a surge of protectiveness for him, and a new purpose. She thought of what Tornado had always said when holding his Rider: "Protect Sky." I'll look after him for you, Tornado. she thought. I promise.
But where was Cardin? Why hadn't he come with the others? He was back now, so he had to know. Why…? Why? Just why?
Shaking her head, Mudslide chose to focus on her brother, on the pain she could understand. Lifting her head, she let out a long, ringing keen that pierced the chilly winter air and the hearts of anyone who could hear it.
Tank lifted his head, his tremulous voice joining with Mudslide's. He stared at his brother, the brother who had always fought him, the brother who had always been so confused and addled and disturbed, and started to hiccup uncontrollably.
Barracuda's shoulders shook. Only Russel's hand on her leg kept her from going into a frenzy and ripping up everything in sight. Tornado had been like her. He had been a fighter. What would she do without him? How could she beat Tank into shape without Tornado's help? What if Tank was killed next? Or Mudslide?
Impulsively, the water dragon moved away from her Rider and draped a large wing over her last remaining brother. Tank stiffened, staring at her in surprise, before huddling close, heating up his scales to warm her.
Russel and Dove looked at their dragons, then at Mudslide and Sky, then at Tornado's body. They wouldn't tell Sky about how Cardin was already wondering when Ozpin would give the team a new wind egg. They wouldn't scoff later on when Teams RWBY, JNPR, and SSSN sat with them at dinner. No, they were just going to wait for now and hope that their team, and its members, weren't about to fall apart at the seams.
Later on, after Tornado was taken away, the stalls and stables were unlocked. Riders rushed to their dragons to comfort them.
Pit wrapped his wings around Blake, letting out short, distressed barks, hating himself for not getting to Tornado sooner.
Meanwhile, Blake clung to Pit with everything she had, still shaking with the burden of what Ozpin had just told her, what Pit had managed to do. She thanked whatever gods had kept him from being killed along with Tornado.
Ozpin walked alone to the now unlocked earth stable, and to the barn that held Ragnar. His dragon sat by the entrance, head bowed, wings hanging limply at his sides. Shame filled Ozpin, and he was barely able to meet Ragnar's gray gaze.
"I'm so sorry," he choked.
Ragnar clenched his fangs as tears rolled down his snout. In that moment, he wished more than anything that there had been a way for him to give his long, spent life in exchange for that one impulsive, damaged, angry dragonet.
He looked at his Rider. He didn't need to be able to speak human words to convey what he was thinking. I don't know how much longer I can do this.
Ozpin placed a hand on Ragnar's snout, finally allowing himself to start weeping. "I know, my friend. I know."
Can I come out? No one's pointing weapons at me? Okay, good.
There are few things in the realm of fantasy sadder than the death of a dragon. It's one of those things that never fails to get me, especially in dragon rider stories. In Tornado's case, he was doomed from the start due to his violent nature, which was nurtured early on by Team CRDL's bullying of other teams. He learned to attack humans but didn't have the ability to separate scenarios and specific people in his mind. So, a small, defenseless human like Jenny appeared to him as fair game.
I'll see you guys next week with more of the aftermath. Then, we'll get to the Dragon Festival.
If you like what you see and want to join an awesome fan community while earning sweet rewards, my P/atreon is Solora Goldsun.
Peace out!