Chapter 39-Fragile Composure

A gentle pull of her wing broke Narssia from the sleep she had so richly treasured. The training the day prior had been difficult for her but she knew deep within her heart that Windra only meant her the best. Rolling onto her side, her topaz irises found his mismatched ones and a low growl rose from within her throat. She had feelings for him, she would admit that much, feelings she never had known existed until he had come to her as a dragon. Despite the large gap between their ages, she still figured it was safe enough to consider the idea of a relationship between them.

I see you're awake, Windra teased as Narssia got to her feet and stretched, letting a plume of smoke from her nostrils.

She growled, advancing to where he lay beside the wall she had blasted a large size chunk of rock from the night earlier. Only because you woke me up. I was having a perfectly fine dream until-

Windra stood, nuzzling her as the contact stunned her into stopping her thought and enjoying the moment between them. Finally she withdrew and motioned for him to follow her outside the cavern walls. She had not seen the exterior of his cave since she had been unconscious when he had brought her to his place out of fear for her life following her failed attempt to kill Arxa.

A hunt is what you wish? Windra inquired as she led him further to the entrance of the cave, her tail stirring up some loose dust from the floor.

Can I prove to you that I know how to defend myself?

The white dragon snorted. Certainly, Black One.

Narssia hissed and turned, springing on him and throwing them both to the ground. She playfully nipped his shoulder then growled as he shrugged her off and got back onto his feet. With dread looming over her, she forced herself to stand and watched as Windra averted his gaze and lowered his head, raising a wing to prevent her from coming to his side.

What is it? Narssia growled as her mentor lowered his wing moments later and hissed sharply as if in pain.

It seems your son is not as skilled as you, or either he didn't know I had rescued you from Arxa . . .

He went after her, didn't he? She hummed, fearing the outcome she felt all too well would happen. Jormundur might have been her son, but he wasn't as cunning as she had once been at the highest time of her power before the darkness had come back into her life.

Windra snorted softly, causing a gentle swirl of wind around them. I'm afraid so.

And what of Jormundur? Is he . . . ?

The white dragon shook his head, leaving Narssia to come to her own dreadful conclusion. She had lost him, lost the only way she could return to her normal time. Letting him flee with the hatchlings had been a plan destined to fail from the very beginning as he would have naturally returned to join her in the fight. Now she understood why she had instructed her time's Sitedal to flee with Ryta, knowing that Jormundur would stand his ground until his sibling returned to help him defend all they had once stood for until the darkness had descended upon her weakened frame.

No, she growled, gripping the floor with her talons. I should have been there, I could have helped him. He never deserved to lose his life fighting against something only I could combat against, something I helped create. A tear slid down her cheek as she closed her eyes and twisted her head away from him.

You were too injured, Narssia. If you would have left my care and fought, you would be dead. Is that what you wanted? To end up dying only to realize you can't change the past?

Windra, I . . . I don't care anymore, Narssia hissed, opening her eyes as anger gripped her. She roared and spread her wings, ignoring the pain that flowed from them.

Avoiding his attempt to make her change her mind, she leapt past him and broke out into the sunlight, taking to the air. She would find Jormundur, alive, or else she would go after Arxa. Failing once had altered her mind set on how to approach the fight, she would emerge victorious this time or the land would finally lay claim to her broken body.

Pale sand first met the sight of the grey dragon, a clue that he had survived the encounter with Arxa. He had feared the dark spirit had killed Narssia but there had been no sign of her being anywhere nearby when he had gone after the former body of her past forme. Facing Arxa had taken everything he had, but it hadn't been enough. Raising his head from the grain under him, the dragon blinked his yellow eyes, recalling the very moment when she went on the attack and tore from him one of his forelegs. The initial pain had stirred him to throw her back with a cyclone of wind but eventually the blood loss had been too much for him to continue the brutal assault.

Jormundur twisted around so that his hind legs were under him and pushed himself up, wobbling unsteadily on his three taloned legs while his body adjusted to the realization that he had lost a limb. He wanted to find Narssia and assure her that he was fine, yet he feared traveling anywhere right now with the loss of his foreleg so fresh in his mind. It seemed that he could hope she would find him and lead them both to safety or else both of them were doomed to die.

Straining his head upward at the sound of what seemed like wing beats, Jormundur was stunned to see that Narssia had come to find him. He growled, sending up a funnel of wind to let her know it was him and moments later she landed right next to him. A flurry of emotions passed from parent to child and Jormundur realized how much she had feared him dead.

So your former rider is now a dragon and saved you from dying after you confronted Arxa following your order for me to keep the hatchlings safe. I can't believe it . . . Is he still the same?

Narssia snorted, brushing her snout against his shoulder. As much as he was on the day of his death. I never thought I would see him again, but now I cannot imagine having left him for dead years ago . . .

It wasn't your fault, mother; you followed your heart and went after Meta for revenge against her killing both your rider and the first dragon you ever loved. I would have done the same thing in your place.

She hissed and shook her head. I acted without rational thought and was emotionally wounded. Losing him and Mirage dealt me a savage blow I thought I would never have to experience again, only to kill Raxmon and witness my own descent into the deepest shadows. I'm a horrible parent to you . . .

Being chained by darkness does not make you a horrible parent, mother. You provided for us as much as you could, given the circumstances. I'm sure Sitedal and Ryta would agree with me on this. Narssia growled, averting her gaze.What is it?

Ryta denounced me after I let Arxa loose in the gorge at the end of the same meadow where I fought my past forme. I never wanted this for either of you, you know that deep inside.

Jormundur hummed, nuzzling her for comfort as he thought over all they had discussed. He could hardly imagine how quickly she had been forced to grow up when her very partner-of-mind was taken from her. Losing the one she had loved had also changed her, he realized somberly as Narssia rested her snout on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Could he be that brave and endure the torment even when everything he knew and cherished was violently snatched from his grasp?

He gazed at her broken frame and uttered a low growl, wanting so much to hold her like this for the rest of their lives. Seeing her this torn apart broke at him and made revenge against Arxa seem even sweeter of a goal to reach toward. Remembering that he had once hated Narssia for everything that had gone wrong in his life only made the moment more touching, yet also a symbol that the true test lay before them upon their return to the present time.

I promise you, he whispered softly, his words completely from the heart, we will get free of this place and return to Sitedal and Ryta. They will welcome our return and then we will destroy the ones that have tried to hurt us.

And if they don't? Her question, and her solemn tone, surprised Jormundur. What can we do that they haven't already heard or seen? By now I fear they are fully entwined within the enemy's grasp, fed lies by those that do not see things our way . . .

Jormundur sighed as Narssia drew back her head, his gaze watching her with all the fear he knew had reflected in her own when Arxa had killed Raxmon before them both. What can I say to make things better? He paused, glancing down at his missing limb. I saw a place you might like as I flew to safety between sessions of unconsciousness.

Did you? I would very much like to see it, if you are in any condition to fly. She motioned toward what had once been his right foretaloned limb, pulling out a appalled snort from him at her suggestion that he was unfit to rejoin the air so soon after what had occurred.

You doubt my flying abilities?

What I doubt is your common sense, Narssia hissed in reply, fanning out her wings and cringing faintly as electric arcs danced up from both of the thin appendages.

Another snort, this one of amusement, rose from within him without his realization. Point taken, mother. Now lead the way.

I shall, she growled as she forcefully flung herself into the open sky, followed seconds later by Jormundur as he tried not to dwell on the loss of his foreleg again.

The flight to the location Jormundur had seen took its toll on Narssia. Her wings still burned with pain at every flap but she pushed herself to keep up with him. Everything they had discussed kept nagging at her mind, particularly Jormundur's promise that they would seek revenge on the ones that had tried to hurt them. She wondered how he knew of that, given that she had made it a point to never bring that up around any of her offspring. In truth, she was also plagued by worry over Windra. Leaving him as suddenly and as angrily as she had, she feared he might be furious with her if she came back to him with her son.

Where are we going? Narssia hissed, barely managing to prevent her agitation and tiredness from slipping into her tone.

Relax, you"ll know when we're there.

Her snort of disapproval sounded her feelings on the subject. Jormundur was keeping her in the dark about where they were going, something he had never done before. Yet again, he was taking the lead and showing her where to go. Deep inside her heart she was proud of his leadership, but also fearful.

Ah, there we are.

The utter calmness and self-assurance Narssia heard come from Jormundur was enough to cause her to look his way. Before him lay the very peak of a massive waterfall, the sheer force of the water crashing down catching her attention. Liquid streams of clear, condensed vapor started at a single point, then broke apart and cascaded down multiple rocks before rejoining to free-fall into the beginnings of a lake farther away.

This is what you wanted me to see?

Jormundur snorted, smoke rising from his nostrils as he glanced back to her. Impressive, isn't it?

Words cannot describe its beauty. She quickly glanced at him. You flew over this last night?

I did, more or less conscious.

Narssia snorted, growling under her breath. Her gaze was still transfixed on the glorious waterfall before her. Part of her wanted to stay and be with Jormundur, while the other part reasoned that Windra might be in danger and that she should return to him.

Can we go to it? She finally asked after a moment of internal conflict.

Of course, Jormundur hummed, gracefully gliding down, leaving her to trail behind him.

They landed on a narrow outcropping where they could both feel the power of rushing water and also see its might flow past them. Narssia glanced at the flowing substance and snored, turning her gaze away. If she thought too hard about it then it reminded her of the twisting vapors of the dark magic she had failed to tame within her. Jormundur nudged her lightly, pointing with his tail to a spot where the water fell right over the cliff and continued its way down the mountain-like rock formation.

Jormundur, I . . . I can't.

He glanced at where he had dictated then back at her, the youthfulness of his age brightening his topaz irises. What's wrong? He asked as Narssia moved to stop beside a solid portion of the cliff, her eyes clouded with multitudes of differing thoughts.

It's nothing you've done, son. She lowered her head, pressing her horns against the rock before her.This place is beautiful, it really is, but I'm just . . . concerned over something.

Or someone? Jormundur teased. He'll be fine. Look, I'll go with you to check on him if you want.

Narssia snorted, raising her head just enough to lock eyes with him as she turned her head in his direction. You think this is a game? I lost him for many moons, I don't intend to have that happen again!

Yes mother . . .

Jormundur's attempt at meekness did little to satisfy Narssia. She had held onto her anger for too long for one dragon to calm it down. Now she would see to letting it loose. It didn't matter to her in the moment that her own son would be hurt by her actions.

You think you know me? You believe I'm a good dragon, full of caring and gentle words. Let me tell you the truth, she hissed, the malice of her tone arousing concern within Jormundur, nothing could be farther from that misconception. I've always been an outcast, a dragon loathed by others simply because of who my rider was. Losing him, changed me, opened my eyes to the truth that the world is heartless and evil.

She turned to face him, raising her head back to normal height. Her eyes, once looking defeated, now gleamed with malice and rage. Jormundur instinctively drew back, glancing around for a way out. Leading her here had not been so she could unleash her anger at the world on him.

I grew tired of everyone treating me like nothing! I struck back, calling on the same darkness my rider had once used to get my revenge. I regret nothing I've done! She roared viciously, the noise echoing the same emotions she felt deep inside. The sound split the air, leaving a faint reddish ring visible for a few seconds before vanishing. Thick waves of blackness rolled off her scales, her eyes turning white as she let the darkness take over and use her as it wanted.

Jormundur located the same area he had pointed out to her moments before and ran toward it, only to be stopped by a fierce gale of wind. He turned back around to see Narssia advancing on him, her eyes lit by the same evil she had once given everything to fight against. Only now did he realize she had no control over when Corruption consumed her, she was a puppet to the darkness to use as it wished.

Narssia lifted a taloned forepaw and pointed it toward Jormundur, her personality completely erased by the darkness at least until she managed to get her emotions under control. Her claws gleamed with a blood-red tint, the color making him think of Sitedal's fear element. She advanced, crouching until her belly rested on the rock under her. The position clearly meant she would spring at him, or so he thought.

Right as she started to leap forward, a sphere of purple energy hit her directly from above where Jormundur stood. He glanced up as Narssia crashed to the ground, her talons scraping for purchase on the uneven rocks. Above them hovered a white dragon, its eyes each a different color.

Windra, Narssia croaked out, her eyes narrowing as she regarded him with rage and loathing. Leave this place.

The dragon snorted, snarling softly. I won't leave, you need this.

A sharp hiss from her was her only response, giving Windra an opportunity to blast her again with another sphere of purple venom. Jormundur watched with interest as she was hit over and over by the toxic matter, realizing that the element was a type of poison rarely used or even seen since the ancient days of their past.

Stop, Jormundur growled, noticing that her body was now trembling and jerking violently. You're hurting her.

I realize that, youngling, but this is the only way to purge the darkness from her. Her survival depends on how strongly she wants to be free and if she even knows the way back out into the light.

Narssia shrieked, losing all control over her body as she felt a bone snap. Instantly she quieted, still trembling, but slowly fading into unconsciousness. She wanted freedom from the pain . . . freedom from the darkness . . . freedom . . .