Chapter 17-To Where It Began
Jormundur opened his yellow eyes to observe the icy dawn for one of the last times in his life. He had seen countless sunrises and sunsets but this one would burn itself into his memory forever. Arxa was also awake, although he couldn't tell it by how silent she was. Her thoughts were always masked to him, he being never able to read them. It was as if there was little brain activity to her at all now, since the night of his deepest terrors. To see the dragon that he had been raised as a son to killed before his very eyes had been unspeakably cruel, inhumane almost. The truth he had later learned that Raxmon was not indeed his father, but a already dead dragon known simply as Mirage had been the one to stir his genes into existence by mating with Narssia. Sitedal and himself were never allowed to call Arxa by the former name of the body she held captive to anymore, although they wanted to more then even freedom.
You're awake, Arxa commented drily as Jormundur twitched, unaware until that moment that, like him, she was also awake to view the ice-driven sun-coming-up-over-the-horizon-event of the earliest morning.
I am, he agreed as her white eyes flickered to him and then back to the rise-of-the-sun.
Normally you sleep late. You and him both.
So she knew their patterns? He wasn't surprised. She barely slept herself anymore, claiming that the body was ill-fit to be driven into a state of total surrender to the outside world. There was little to be worried about given their climate up in the cloudy regions of the local mountain area. Only birds flew up this high. Well birds and other dragons, naturally.
The black one seems not himself lately, she suggested as his grey frame quivered with the early morning chill.
Maybe the food's been bad? Jormundur inquired as he felt those white eyes of the one who possessed his mother's body staring at him, evermore present and always aware of the surroundings.
Could be but I doubt so. Arxa's rare emotional moments were . . . exceedingly uncommon. Almost never did she lose her temper or even raise her voice above its normal, irritating level.
Care to suggest an idea? He asked as he heard her snort softly. Most likely she disagreed with his suggestion, it was rather common for that to occur upon her disapproval of something.
The minds of the youth are to implored for suggestions, not the vast memory-holders that those of ancient dragons have.
Her immediate answer angered him. Never did she flat out respond anymore with simply a 'yes' or a 'no' but instead spoke in such cryptic language that it made his head hurt trying to figure her out. He was starting to think he never would uncover her secrets and help Ryta break their mother free of bondage in her own mind. That was one thing which drove him to put up with the annoying ways of the parasitic mind-snatcher which had seemingly replaced his mother overnight. Even Sitedal, before his return after the attack on Verdra had taken place, had at least tried to hold a conversation with her but it often went nowhere and nearly drove them both to madness. Now the black male was as silent as Narssia was, never speaking unless spoke to and it wasn't much that he did speak anymore.
The quiet of mind often become quiet of heart, Arxa hummed, almost raspily as Jormundur glanced back to glare at her. He knew his place in her tiny group, such reminders were not needed!
Listen! He snarled. I have put up with you long enough now. Give us Narssia back and-
Arxa growled, the sound enough to make the grey dragon cease his mental ranting. She was mad, he realized with horror. He had angered her, he had spoken the word most forbid in her presence. Narssia.That one phrase caused her wrath like no other and now he couldn't take it back. She would kill him, he would die. Simple as that.
The greyling falls to recall my request? The black she-dragon spoke softly, her growl growing louder steadily. My one commandment of servitude? There is no forgiveness for such an action. She got to her feet as Jormundur scrambled to his and began to back up.
He knew that death was coming. Sitedal even knew, and he was now awake as Arxa's growl was as menacing as it was bone-chilling. Could such a pleasure be afforded to him now? To die for the advancement of the one way to bring Narssia back to the surface where she belonged. Oh he longed for death now, for it to come swiftly and end his cruel physical existence on the badly-damaged earth. There was one problem though. She had begun to take to the ways of the oldest dragons and kill by torture instead of a quick, painless death. Raxmon had been killed in a instant, so should he not have the same honor then?
Jormundur felt his hind claws clutch to the rock under him and he realized that the drop off was just behind him. He could jump off and let his death come then, but what good would it do? Arxa would only comment about him not facing death like a true dragon and there would be no impact on Narssia, if she was even still mentally alive. Sitedal raised his head and blinked as the female took another step in anger. Only two more steps before she was right before him.
A sudden surge of sunlight made the eyes of his brother shine brighter then anything else in their small cave and Jormundur felt himself drawn to it. Those eyes were a gift from their father, he knew that much, but never had he realized such a need to be close to the rich purple that had become the eye color of Sitedal. The deep amethyst seemed to be calling out to him, whispering words of such tongue that he had no clue what was being said but only that he should let his power flow through every fiber in his body.
That he did with no hesitation and the entire cave filled with a light brighter then even the glare of the sun at midday. When the fierce illumination faded only Sitedal remained in their cave, dazed and confused as to what had happened.
The air around them blazed with raw heat, the force of which caused both Jormundur and Arxa to close their eyes. She gave a growl of pain only once but otherwise no sound was heard from her, for the most part. He was struggling to channel the strongest power he had ever felt from himself however and it took most of his concentration just to keep them moving. An idea formed in his mind of what the power was but he couldn't be for sure until they stopped.
Finally he let the remains of the unknown energy go and the heat disappeared, only to be replaced by the bluest sky he had ever seen. The baby blue atmosphere provided little to look at as Jormundur realized that they were falling. Faster they plummeted and only then did he glance over at Arxa. Her frame was trembling heavily and occasional bursts of green light shot out from her, disappearing into the air. Whatever was going on he decided it wasn't good for either of them.
Turning, he managed to wrap his tail around her right forepaw, squeezing it gently as she continued to give off the flares of light. Surprisingly the light bursts didn't effect him, allowing that much more time to get together a plan to land safely and without further harm to both of them. A forest soon vaguely appeared below them, becoming clearer the farther they descended. Now Jormundur had only to figure out a way to drop onto the floor of the green-sea-of-trees without injury. That would be harder then he thought though.
As the woodland drifted ever closer, the male spread out his wings and strained himself to his fullest. Even with his wings displayed at their max they still continued to fall quickly. Jormundur knew that if he retracted his wings then death would certainly come for them both as the increase in speed would make for a landing near impossible. He wasn't about to risk the life of the dragoness who raised him from an egg and his own in a near-fatal landing, that would be too risky and too dangerous for either of them. What to do? Their options were vastly decreasing and with it his own strength. Never before had he been this challenged, this put to the test.
Thinking that such an idea would work to his benefit, the grey male jerked both his mother's body and himself to the left. There had to be an opening in the green canopy somewhere. The tricky part would be finding it, wherever it was in the sea of leafy tops. Ever faster they descended and finally he saw what he needed. A small opening revealed itself only feet from where they were falling towards and Jormundur began to strain himself to break free of the air current they were on to, hopefully, get to a new one that would lead to the gap in the greenness of the bark landscape.
Jormundur only forgot about how fast two dragons could go in a downward flight. The mass alone was enough to crash them into the leaf-cushioned top layer but the speed of their descent would cancel out the bounce back factor of the springy foliage. Green and red entered his sight as their flying turned into an out-of-control spin. He felt the bones on one of his wings snap and he would have roared had not the initial shock overrun the pain. Brown entered his gaze as his body rammed into tough bark on the trees and more areas on his frame cried out in misery as pain flooded his senses and beat down everything else in him and what he saw.
When the dark brownness of the earth reached him he was nearly incoherent from the pain. There was no clue as to how well Arxa had fared from their wronged spiral downwards but Jormundur only really wanted to sleep and worry about his wounds later. It was in that moment that he heard the padded footsteps of another creature. Maybe it would help them? Maybe it knew where they were? Maybe it . . . ?
Her delicate footing would have normally indicated that she had traveled this section of the forest before but she had not. It was new territory to her, a fresh location to mark as so to protect her two eggs from the hungry jaws of traveling predators.
Stumbling upon the two dragons during her trip had not been her intent but there she stood gazing down at one grey dragon with a severely bent right wing and a black dragon who seemed to be not even breathing. She hoped it wasn't dead but no dragon would be better at figuring that out then Raxmon, or so she made herself believe as to mask the pain of losing her first love. The death of Mirage had ripped a hole in her that only Raxmon had been able to heal. Slowly they were coming together as one, as a united pair of dragons that could outlast any other.
I've found two dragons while exploring the territory, she commented as Raxmon sought her mind for why she had not returned yet to their cave.
Two dragons? This is unique, love. Tell me, are they conscious?
Not that I can see, came her response after a moment of silence.
Very well, Raxmon sighed. I am on the way, stay there.