A/N: More Action! YAY! Hope y'all enjoy :)
"This is a terrible plan." Yang said slowly. Jaune raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.
I feel like she says that every time I have a plan. Jaune thought to himself, hearing Vedrahgol snort.
That's because every plan you have is terrible.
Hey!
Jaune frowned and shook his head, patting Yang's shoulder gently, hoping that she would understand that he was trying to comfort her. It didn't work very well, seeing as how the blonde girl ignored him, clutching her head.
"I can't believe I agreed to this." She muttered nervously. "We're going to be bait. For a freaking dragon that's ten times our size. Oh Dust, what if she doesn't even land and just grabs one of us? Can dragon's even do that?" The last question was directed towards Jaune, who held out a calming hand, trying to stop her from rambling like her little sister.
Well, krienmon isn't wrong.Vedrahgol said idly. This could easily fail just as spectacularly as work. Actually, it probably had more of a chance at failing.
Vedrahgol… please shut up.
The dragon actually quieted down, letting Jaune focus his thoughts, breathing in and out slowly, trying to get the nervousness out of his system. When he opened his eyes, he double checked everyone's position, making sure that they would be able to act as efficiently as possible for the first hit.
The blonde couple continued to stride forward in the open and empty city, walking hand in hand, hoping that the dragon wouldn't kill them in one strike.
They wandered like this for hours, their friends spread out and trailing around them, taking care not to get caught. There were no more words being exchanged, only tense silence, waiting for something, anything to happen. Even Yang and Jaune didn't say much, although they were supposed to, if only to attract the dragon's attention. That didn't mean they didn't try, of course. It just meant that every conversation they had was stilted and awkward, ending prematurely at times, and going on for too long at other times. It didn't help that Jaune could only reply using his hands and body language, making for an awkward conversation partner.
It was torture.
A flap of wings brought the two's attention towards a nearby tree, gauntlets deploying, a sword sliding out within a blink of the eye. The pair stood there tensely, watching as a bird chirped merrily along its way to who knows where, unaware that there were two Hunters that had almost killed it because it decided to fly away.
Yang and Jaune turned to each other and couldn't help but crack a smile, knowing how tense they were. Lowering their weapons, they let themselves unwind just a little bit, and conversation started to flow a little smoother, Yang getting back into her usual peppy mood, as well as understanding some of Jaune's vague gestures a little better.
When they finally heard the slow flap of leathery wings, the two of them were ready. The breeze that seemed almost constant in Niege grew stronger as the dragon approached. When they saw her, it was like they were standing in a wind tunnel, their hairs flying wildly all over the place, any loose clothing flapping around as well. The dragon hovered over them, observing them for before opening her mouth, speaking.
"Leave. Now." The words chilled Jaune to the bone, but he held his ground, crossing his arms stubbornly. Of course, being mute meant that he didn't have a snappy comeback, but he was confident that Yang had it covered.
"How about you leave?" Yang hollered, hoping to be heard over the wind. "That way, we won't have to beat your ass!"
The dragon stayed in the air for a second, before lowering herself slowly, feet still crashing to the ground.
"So be it."
And the dragon opened her mouth to shout, before a loud crack echoed through the air, and blood spurted from where one of the dragon's eyes were. She reared back, roaring in pain, the willpower gathered up to shout at the two humans in front of her forgotten. It didn't stop there, as Cardin appeared, flung forwards by Weiss and Blake, screaming a high-pitched battle cry, smashing his mace across the dragon's snout, an explosion rocking the dragon to the side. The distinct sound of grenades popping out of a launcher made contact on the dragon's leathery wings, tearing holes in them, preventing her from escaping the death pit that she had landed into.
In less than half a minute, the ferocious dragon had been reduced to a half blind, injured lizard, unable to escape the closing trap, only able to watch as thirteen angry humans threw everything they had towards her.
"Dishonorable." The dragon spat at the approaching Jaune, who held Crocea Mors loftily in his hand. Jaune smirked and bowed deeply, taking the word as a compliment.
Winning was winning in the face of war.
Without much flare, Jaune plunged his sword through the dragon's skull, renting an unearthly screech from the dragon, before it collapsed unceremoniously onto the ground, already flaking and glowing for Jaune to take in.
There wasn't much ceremony in his process of absorbing the soul, everyone having witnessed it a few times already, even Jaune not reacting too much to it. The process hadn't even finished when he started to move, rolling his shoulders and sighing audibly, relieved that some of the pain and tension had melted away from that part of his body.
It was replaced with a newer pain when Yang slapped him in between the shoulders, making him yelp and turn to her, glare on his face. She ignored it readily, grinning at him. The rest of the unit had also made their way towards him, smiling just as widely.
"That one was… way easier than all of them combined. Wait a second, that doesn't make any sense." Yang furrowed her brow, before shrugging. "Ah whatever. What matters… is that was easy!"
The blonde rolled his eyes, hand clapping his girlfriend's shoulder. "Don't jinx it."
All of them froze at the sound of Jaune's voice. Jaune's hand went up to touch his throat, eyes widening.
It seems that the traditional 'absorb a Dov's power and gain strength' also healed your throat up somewhat. Vedrahgol commented idly. Interesting.
"Things are looking up, huh?" Jaune croaked out, a wide smile plastered on his face. His voice sounded scratchy and rough, as if he had been at a loud concert for several hours, screaming at the top of his lungs. It was evident to him that just this amount of words was enough to wear them out though, the blonde bending over and coughing, throat burning.
As the group scrambled to find something for Jaune to drink, Yang kept a tight grip on him, a soft smile on her face.
His voice was back, and that was all that mattered.
"Finally."
Imaar stood up from a patch of damp ground, dead and dying Grimm disintegrating around him. Picking up a large golden scroll from out of the hole, the dragon priest held the object reverently, stroking it softly.
Cinder stood beside him, eyes intense as she examined the object that Imaar had pulled from the ground, trying to discern its purpose. She had heard rumors of something resembling this a while back, but didn't know exactly what it did, only that it was powerful, and dangerous. She had tried to find it a few months back, something to consolidate her power, but could never find it until she told Imaar about it, pointing in the general directions of where the rumors pointed it out to be lying.
It took less than a week for Imaar to navigate through the Grimmlands and find it, felling any Grimm that weren't already under his control with contemptuous ease. Like some sort of sixth sense, he had honed in to where the scroll lay, and now they stood here in the middle of nowhere, for something Cinder didn't even know about.
That was not a feeling she much liked.
"So you have your scroll," Cinder said, stepping forwards. "What happens now?"
The man didn't answer for a moment, all of his attention still focused on the artifact that he had in his hands. She wasn't sure if it was just the wind or not, but she thought she heard him whisper words to it as well, which sent something unpleasant into her stomach.
"What happens now," He said, finally answering Cinder's question. "Is we finish taking over this paltry world of yours. Then I move onto mine, and make the world truly mine. And with an Elder Scroll, nothing will stop me. Nothing."
The way he spoke to the scroll only helped pique Cinder's curiosity even further, making her question Imaar. "What does the scroll even do that makes you want it so badly?"
The masked man turned, eyes glowing. "It gives you power." He answered simply. "More power than you could ever imagine, in ways you would never expect." He held out the scroll to her. "Feel free to examine it."
Cinder blinked at the man, not sure how to take the sudden generosity of the man. When he made no move to take it back, Cinder took it with her uncertain hands, tracing the scroll with her fingers, noting all of the subtle markings on it. This was power, if Imaar was right. And if there was anything that Cinder knew, it was power, and her instincts screamed at her, telling her that getting her hands on whatever was inside of this scroll would be the end of all her troubles.
"Do not open it." He said quietly, seriously. "It is dangerous to the reader, and not everyone can handle the power it bestows onto you."
Cinder grit her teeth in annoyance, still unused to being told what to do. And the gall of the man tell her that she was unqualified for power? Ridiculous. Almost without hesitation, Cinder pulled the scroll out, intent on reading whatever was found there.
She didn't get very far, as light whiter than anything she had ever experienced surrounded her vision, an unbearable heat roasting across her eyes. She screamed in agony, bending over and falling to her knees, the Elder Scroll falling from her hands.
When the pain subsided, Cinder could hear Imaar's footsteps approach her, the rustling of his cloak indicating that he had knelt down to pick up the scroll, and whisper in her ear.
"For someone so brilliant, you are unbelievably stupid." The man chuckled, getting onto his feet. "It is fortunate that I still have some use for you, or I would leave you here in this forgotten wasteland. Now come, we must find the last dredges of resistance and snuff them out. Especially the dovahkiin in our midst. I hear he's become something of a nuisance." Imaar snapped his fingers, and a Beowulf lifted Cinder into the air, dropping her onto an Ursa's back.
As they marched back towards Atlas, Cinder came to two conclusions.
One, she had a feeling this blindness would be something permanent, or at least last too long for Cinder to simply wait it out and still hope to come out on top of Imaar.
And second, that any information is power, and while she had only been able to glean a few words off of the scroll, she was still able to learn from it, to understand, and to gain benefit from it.
Cinder had learned how to shout.