An angel’s road to hell

61. Of transformations, defeat and a little bit of flight

Cassandra Pendragon

We had dropped significantly and were much closer to the sea now. I stood on the air above him, a fresh breeze brushed through my dark hair and tickled my ears. Galathon had fallen even further after I had vanished and was now pulling out of his dive more than 100 meters below me. Even from up high I could see the rivulets of blood that ran down his neck and flowed from his body, forming a veritable waterfall beneath his chest. He was hunched over and his wing strokes were laboured while I felt much better. I hadn’t been able to recover my bodily stamina from the spells I had devoured, they had lacked a life force component, but my meridians and wing bases felt as good as new. For the first time during our encounter I held the advantage and I didn’t plan on losing it again.

I allowed gravity to take hold and helped along with a couple of strokes while I rushed towards him, like a hawk hunting a mouse… that was admittedly several times the hawk’s size. Faster and faster I hurtled through the air, but still, I wasn’t fast enough.

The blood flow from his wounds dried up while I was watching and from one moment to the next power gathered in his chest, much more than I had seen before. His whole body was overlaid with purple energies that pulsed and squirmed as if they were alive, even in the visible spectrum. I didn’t know what he was planing, but whatever it was, my fur stood on edge just from watching its creation. If I had been closer, I might have been able to tear the spell apart but something told me it’d be finished before I’d have the chance to get my wings on it. Reluctantly I slowed down and even pulled back a little, hovering about 50 meters above him. I was too far away to follow the spells formation with my second vision but the effects were quite obvious.

A black cloud, purple lightning illuminating the shadows within from time to time, formed around his body in an instant. It reminded me of the light that had covered Viyara when she had changed her form… just friggin perfect. The cloud dissipated just as quickly but when the winds blew away the last wisps of smoke, no trace of the black dragon I had been fighting remained. Anxiety bubbled up from my stomach and I looked around frantically for any sign of my foe. Suddenly it felt like a jolt of electricity was running through my tails and they curled up around my legs. Without hesitation I blinked away, whirling around to keep the spot I had been in in sight. A black blade, shadows clinging to the edges, whirled through the sky where my neck had been a fracture of a second before. Remaining still at the end of his strike, a huge black figure, humanoid in shape but at the very least 2.5 meters tall with wings of dark fire, turned its head towards me.

He projected malice the same way his dragon form had but somehow his smaller body had concentrated his aura, the waves of hatred and raged that radiated off of him literally made my wings quiver. He wore a tight full body armour made of ebony scales that made him look like a golem. Huge shoulder guards were adorned with obsidian blades and covered the sides of his neck while a crown like helmet hid his face completely. An intricately designed dragon, its spread wings protecting the warrior’s neck, cheeks, and parts of his back, coiled around the helmet, it showed a vicious snarl and immense rubies that sparked with an inner light filled its eyes. Shadowy rune formations danced deep within and along the spine of the dragon.

Along the warrior’s forearms the armour thickened and several ivory spikes protruded from the scales, 5 of them neatly cut off at the base. Heavy boots, made from the same pitch black scales, rose up to his knees, a single horn jutted from the tip of each foot. A set of black blade breakers covered the wing bases on his back, their protrusions effectively protecting the first few centimetres of his wings. A scaly tail whipped through the air behind him, each movement produced a whistling sound and a loud crack when it changed directions. His toned arm was still stretched out, calmly holding an immense broad sword in perfect balance.

The blade shimmered in the sunlight and while the metal it was forged of looked like obsidian, it reflected the light in a myriad of different different colours whereas darkness clung to the edges, blurry and wavering like smoke in the wind. Rune upon rune was carved into the hollow, some strung together to form complex sentences and glyphs, some isolated but all of them brimming with enough power that I could practically smell it.

Slowly, with the grace of unending hours spent swinging his sword, Galathon moved back and brought his blade up in a mocking salute. A deep voice flowed out from beneath his helmet. It had kept its cold edge but it appeared fuller, more sonorous than before.

“And so the end begins!”

He brought his sword back down in a whirling strike and his body collapsed into shadows and flames. I didn’t wait to find out where he might reappear and blinked to the position he had just vacated. Before I vanished though, I felt a chilling breeze caress the back of my head and when the sparks and light cleared from my vision I saw locks of my hair flowing through the sky, cleanly cut off where his blade had missed its mark by less than a centimetre. Gingerly I felt for an injury but he had only managed to sever several strands of hair, he hadn’t touched my skin. I couldn’t see his face but I was sure he was smiling beneath his mask.

It had been the first time he had hit me without any from of retaliation and a cold sweat was forming on my brow. My biggest advantage had been his unbelievable size which had allowed me to use his body as a shield but now he was far more agile with a deadly blade in hand. I also didn’t believe for a second that his transformation had reduced his strength or durability, if anything his new armour seemed even more sturdy than his scale dress.

With a flourishing wave he conjured over a dozen black orbs, made from some form of dark glass and sent them flying with a whistling sound. They didn’t head for me but instead started to arbitrarily shoot through the air, covering the space in my range in a deadly hailstorm of bullets. If I wanted to teleport again, it would be nearly impossible to not get skewered as soon as I appeared again. Additionally I would have to keep track of the flying balls of death in case he decided to crash one of them into my back. That was the exact situation I had been struggling to avoid, facing a dragon that made full use of his sophisticated magic and experience. At least he couldn’t swallow me whole anymore.

A shiver ran along my tails and I reflexively somersaulted over two of the orbs which had come rushing at my back. I hadn’t even seen a flare of magic with my second vision to warn me and it took me a moment to puzzle out how he was controlling them. He used short bursts of magic when the orbs were well out of my reach to accelerate them or change their direction but mostly they travelled on inertia. There was no spell to destroy unless I managed to intercept him while he was trying to alter their direction.

If I didn’t want to be sitting ducks I’d have to close in again, making it impossible for him to shoot at me without risk of hitting himself. I swallowed dryly when I remembered the few instances where I had seen him handle his sword and the proficiency and grace that shimmered through his attacks. If my spar with Ahri was any indication I wouldn’t be his match in a fight, to stand a chance I would have to use my wings to restrain his movements and if I was right and he still commandeered all of his strength that was about as likely as toddler restraining an armed knight. I couldn’t even safely give it a try, if he managed to get his hands on me or if his blade pierced my skin I was sure our fight would end just then and there. I fled.

With a sudden burst of speed I neared the closest orb with the intention of teleporting past the perimeter they were covering once I was close enough. He wasn’t fast enough to change their flight patterns accordingly and I managed to get close. Collapsing into silvery sparks I reappeared behind the line of weaponised marbles just when his voice cleaved the sky once again.

“Pressura!”

The orbs closest to me vanished in an explosion of dark flames and half molten shards of glass shot off in every direction. I couldn’t dodge and I couldn’t teleport again, there was just not enough time, all I could do was weave my wings into a loose net of energy around me. Most of the shrapnel slammed into it but a small part slid through. At first it felt like I had been punched. I recoiled and looked down. Two holes had appeared in my legs and blood oozed from a third one in my thigh. The pain hit me as soon as I saw my injuries. Tendrils of fire clawed at my nerves and I immediately lost all control over the wounded leg. Beneath the raging fire a cold numbness spread out, slowly sucking away more and more of my body heat while it spread towards my heart. The damned projectiles had been poisoned.

I doubled over in the air, gasping and channeled energy towards the torn tissue. The wounds didn’t heal but I managed to prevent the poison from spreading. I’d have to dig out the shrapnel before I could cleanse myself. Unfortunately Galathon wasn’t going to stand idly by while I cared for my injuries. As soon as my posture crumbled I saw his wings flare threateningly in the corner of my eyes and I knew he was headed for me once again. “Persequi!” He thundered.

Blood pumped in my ears but I could still hear the whistling of his projectiles coming closer while they zeroed in on my position. Gritting my teeth I ignored the approaching world of hurt and unceremoniously dug my index finger into my leg to extract the still red hot piece of glass that was lodged deep within. I didn’t have the time to be gentle or careful, I clawed at my wounds like a desperate animal and ripped the three pieces of obsidian right out, alongside a handful of flesh and a fountain of blood.

The gemlike shards in my hand shimmered with a sick, greenish light and I threw them as far as I could before I teleported again and again.

Panicked and hurting I tried to get away, to somehow clear enough space between us for a moment of respite but Galathon was hard on my heels. Wherever I appeared, his orbs were already there and forced me into a new direction only to narrowly dodge his blade or tail. He was playing with me now, like a cat would play with a mouse but the constant barrage of attacks didn’t touch me. I was reminded of the countless hours I had spent in Greta’s cavern, running away from every object she had been able to throw at me. My mind shifted gears and I managed to push down my fear again and think more clearly. I was still losing blood at a fast pace, my trousers were soaked on the left side and a spray of it swirled through the air behind me. I was already experiencing the first symptoms of blood loss, a slight dizziness and faint tremors in my muscles. Grudgingly I slowed down, sparing enough energy to start healing my wounds but that also meant that for the next couple of minutes I’d be limited in what I could do, a considerable part of my concentration and energy occupied.

I tried to estimate how often I could teleport without overtaxing my body while still healing myself and started to fly on a razor’s edge between life and death. I’d circle him until I could see or feel one of his orbs accelerating towards me, then I’d head straight for him. Once I was just outside of his reach, I teleported back towards the now vacant spot in the net of flying obsidian. When he slowed them down and set others on my tails again, I’d repeat the manoeuvre. Over time most of the black bullets should be close to him, allowing me more space to work with and a fair chance to get away.

Time dragged on while I slithered and whipped through the air, erratic movements and my agility kept me from being hit again but I lost several centimetres of the fur on my tails when I misjudged one of his swings and nearly got cut. I didn’t know what would happen if that blade made contact with my skin or even worse my blood but I wouldn’t find out if I could help it. I was sweating profusely and while I didn’t burden my core overly much, the strain of keeping up my concentration and whirling my limbs away from a cutting blade or tearing orbs of glass was starting to get to me. It became a little easier once my wounds had healed and I even managed to use my wings a couple of times to slice through his armour whenever I came close enough but the tears in the scales vanished nearly as quickly as they appeared and he didn’t even bother defending himself. Instead he always preferred to send another swing with his sword my way, aiming for my neck, abdomen or legs. Each of his strikes carried enough force to cleanly cleave me in two if they were to land. It was a risky game for both of us, one mistake on my part would probably cost me my life but if I managed to dodge his blade and orbs in close quarters and realign my wings swiftly enough, I might be able to wrap my wings around him and cut his body to pieces. I’d like to see him regenerated form that. Unfortunately I always had to blink away long before I could even start to entangle him in a net if energy.

We had reached a stalemate for the moment but I could feel my stamina draining away and each time I neared him, his sword came closer and closer to finally cut into me. Sweat flowed in rivers from my brow and drenched the remains of my shirt, my lungs were aching with the effort of pumping more and more oxygen into my body and my meridians were aching again, forcing me to dial down my energy consumption heavily. When I blinked away from him once again, ready to circle and draw in more of the orbs he changed his plan. He immediately dismissed the ones I had lured close to him and conjured new ones in their stead, close to where I was hovering. “Impetum!” He screamed. All 15 of them shot towards me, faster than before and from every direction in 3 waves of 5. I had to teleport again but the only spot I could reach that wasn’t full of whistling glass was close to him and in the path of his already descending blade. Whatever the cost I wouldn’t allow that thing to touch me.

A shiver of fear ran through my body when I vanished and appeared behind the first two waves of projectiles. I immediately raced along the lines of light in my minds eye again but I still got hit. I materialised behind the line of orbs and as soon as my senses returned, a crushing pain flooded through me, originating from my right shoulder. I felt nauseated and had to swallow a mouthful of bile back down. My arm hung limply at my side, blood cascade along and fell towards the sea. A clean hole, the size of one of the orbs, had appeared and I could see white bone at the edges before it filled with gushing blood. I yelled out in pain, darkness etched in from the corners of my vision and I knew I was done. But I also wasn’t surrounded by his flying death traps anymore. If I didn’t run now, I wouldn’t get another chance.

Without hesitation I turned towards the faint presence of Viyara and winged away as fast as I could. Whenever my concentration would allow, I wove a teleport into my movements. I sped away from the dragon with all my might and anxiously looked up at the sun. It wasn’t evening yet, but we had been fighting for longer than I had thought, more than two hours had passed. Now all I had to do was race him and not die of blood loss on the way. Considering what I had been through in the last hours, I had to smile at the prospect. That seemed doable.

Energy tore apart the sky in front of me and a shadowy portal appeared, an obsidian blade slithered through the moment it stabilised.