Tears of a Dragon

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. The day they arrived shook the very foundations of the surrounding mountains, and the events of that day saw a reshaping of the land and foreshadowed the lives of all who came to live there since.

Flying between the snow-covered peaks, Ferrail, a dragon of the deepest jet-black scales, folded her wings close to her sleek body and dropped. The end of her tail was singed by a jet of orange flame spewed after her by the chasing blood-red dragon, Kazzurak.

Ferrail let herself drop for a few seconds before spreading her wings wide and pulling up sharply, turning to face her advancing enemy. The red dragon maintained his deadly speed and lowered his skull, aiming to ram into the black’s neck, but Ferrail spun away to reduce the contact to a glancing blow and snapped her jaws at the red’s wing as it hurtled past. Ferrail’s razor sharp teeth tore the skin stretched across the skeletal wing, bringing a landscape-splitting scream that ripped through the region. Ferrail sent a jet of red flame straight after the speeding Kazzurak but his momentum caried him out of range. He alighted on a nearby ridge, where he quickly twisted his neck to lick his torn wing.

The battle had been raging for a full day and night, and Ferrail also retreated and dropped onto the neighbouring peak to regain some strength and to devise a plan. She knew that her adversary was strong and could defend himself for a long time. Dragon battles could last for weeks, especially around mating time, but it had been long since Ferrail had been involved in such encounters, and she wondered whether she still had the stamina.

“I sense your weakness, Ferrail,” the red dragon’s thoughts forced their way into Ferrail’s mind. Without permission, the dragon-telepathy felt like a jagged rock being scraped across her brain. “I see you tire. I know you fear me, and you are wise to, but I’m sure you realise that killing you is not my aim. At least, not today, perhaps I’ll leave you now and come back for you once you are no longer required?” he taunted.

“Your arrogance has only become inflamed over the centuries, Kazzurak.” Ferrail’s forced her thoughts into Kazzurak’s mind. “I have never feared you. Before today I merely distrusted you. But now… Now I understand what it is to hate.

“I’m will not allow you to get away what you’ve done today, Kazzurak! You have committed un-thinkable acts. The Unforgivable Sin amongst our kind. I’m surprised even you have crossed this line. Whom do you serve? What great power could have corrupted you to go so far? But ultimately it matters not. I will see you pay for what you have taken.”

Rocks and snow dislodged as Ferrail burst forth from her peak, causing an avalanche on the mountainside. She pounded her immense wings and headed straight for Kazzurak. Barely the blink of a scaly eyelid later, Kazzurak caused another avalanche as his powerful hind legs propelled him from his own peak. He spread his immense wings wide and headed straight down the mountain side, away from Ferrail. His long, straight neck stretched out in front of a tear shaped mass of blood-red scales that glinted in the sunshine. He tucked his legs up tight to his long tapering, spear tipped tail. He beat his wings with ferocious power, forcing his streamlined form through the air, accelerating down the face of the mountain.

“What are you going to do if you manage to catch me, Ferrail?” Kazzurak’s tone was smug in Ferrail’s mind.

“You know the price for The Unforgivable Sin, Kazzurak! Your actions have revealed your intent; you can’t afford to kill me. You fight only to escape, to leave me to hatch and nurse. To finish what you have begun. I have no such issues to hinder my attack.”

Ferrail crested the mountain and saw his sleek form, a red blur already at the foot of the mountain, heading out across the valley. She plunged on in pursuit. “That gives me the tactical advantage, no?”

“You talk of my arrogance,” Kazzurak growled, his smug tone giving way to anger. “I do not need you to continue my line. “There are still others. They hide but I can find them, as I found you! I can and will kill you if I must. I have options and time yet. You are not the last, merely the next convenient host!”

“Host? Host!” Ferrail snarled. “Your attitude stinks of human taint. At least now I know who controls you. You think you have time? Your time grows shorter with every word, you vile defiler!” Ferrail sensed a shift in Kazzurak’s bearing, the barest hint of worry entering his mind before he could mask it.

From her vantage point, still high up the mountainside, Ferrail could see that Kazzurak planned to use his momentum to power his way up and over the next mountain range and outrun her. Although it nagged at her ragged pride to admit it, the red demon was older and stronger than her. If he cleared that peak, the chase would be lost.

Ferrail had no intention, however, of allowing him to escape. Pulling out of her dive, the beat of her massive wings flattening trees as she levelled off, she continued towards to the next peak at altitude while her enemy continued across the valley floor. He would have to climb once more, giving her time to close the gap.

Kazzurak continued to accelerate as he crossed the valley floor, thumping his powerful wings with ceaseless vigour and stamina. Ferrail caught herself marvelling at the sheer force of nature, the majesty of his form, then berated herself for it. She dug in, pushing herself hard, resolved to cleanse the world of this foul creature.

The black gauged the red’s line of flight as she closed in on her quarry, and knew it was going to be a close call. Kazzurak had nearly passed the tree line. She angled her course up in order to stay on track while striving for extra power and efficiency.

The normally tranquil region had its silence shattered once more by the ear-splitting crescendo of the roars of both dragons. The righteous determination of the black mixed with the angry disbelief of the red. Ferrail had judged her trajectory well, and the roars were followed closely by an earth-shattering thunderclap as one speeding dragon slammed into another, their combined momentum carrying them into the bare rock of a mountain side.

Dust and rock erupted from the mountainside as the speeding black and red mass of scale, bone and anger, punched a deep shaft into the mountain, altering the landscape forever as thousands of tonnes of mountain rock collapsed across the hole.

It was several minutes before the landslide settled, and several more before the winds began to carry the dust across the valley. Silence returned to the valley. Just as the first mountain lark opened its beak to restart the birdsong, the peace was shattered once more as the mountain side exploded again. The dragons emerged from the dust cloud and debris, writhing and snapping at each other as their intertwined forms twisted around and around each other in a fierce yet elegant dance.

The viciousness of the ensuing battle would have sent fear into the heart of even the fiercest of dragons. The colossal flying monsters broke their terrible embrace and circled each other, snarling, scratching, biting, all the while sending wave after wave of searing flame toward each other. The battle continued to rage for long hours, with many scales, teeth, and even a few talons, dislodged and scattered across the countryside as the battle climbed ever higher, above the peaks of the tallest mountains in the land.

Kazzurak realised the option of escape was gone. He had underestimated Ferrail’s drive and determination and now understood that only one of them would survive this day. It was a shame that he’d have to spend more years searching out another host but if that is what it took, then so be it. He swiped and snapped at an area of flesh exposed by dislodged scales on Ferrail’s neck, hoping to end the contest with a killing blow. Kazzurak’s serrated teeth carved a gash into her flesh, but Ferrail’s dodge to the right kept the cut from penetrating deep enough to be fatal. As the red beast’s lunge carried him passed her, Ferrail raked a blow up across the red fiend’s jaw. Four razor sharp talons gouged wide channels in Kazzurak’s face, ploughing deep through flesh and bone, continuing up through his jaw to emerge from the top of his skull, ripping his left eyeball out of the smashed socket. A line of luminous green dragon blood sprayed across the mountain below, melting the solid rock which hissed as a noxious steam spouted from the gash.

Kazzurak gave a cry of pain so guttural and intense that the rock split along the line his own blood had corroded. The rocks on the lower side fell away, beginning another landslide which rent a chasm so deep and wide that no bottom was visible. Sensing victory, and driven on by her righteous indignation, Ferrail conjured a flame so hot it fired a deep blue in its core. She fired it at the spinning, screaming, confused form of her enemy and blew until her fuel was spent.

Kazzurak’s red wings caught fire and the crazed beast thought to lash out with his own flame, but as he took a breath to do so, he inhaled only the flames and fumes of his own burning flesh, scorching the tissue deep within his throat and lungs. As his melting wings could no longer support his body weight, and the inhaled smoke filled his lungs, Kazzurak became disoriented and feint. Ferrail withdrew from the fireball and landed on the mountainside, her breath ragged, watching with satisfaction as her enemy fell. He fell onto the steep mountainside and rolled down towards the rift that had opened a few seconds earlier. Ferrail watched in relief as the ball of blue flame plunged into the chasm to be engulfed by dust and darkness.

The landslide created by Kazzurak’s landing continued to pour thousands of tonnes of rock into the abyss. Ferrail continued to watch until the rubble settled. She blew another blue-hot flame at the solid rock of the mountain uncovered by the slide, melting it into a molten flow which poured into the hole to bury the red monster. After the molten rock spilled out over the top and began to flow down the mountain, Ferrail extinguished her flame and gave a bellow that shook the ground. She had meant it to be a victory roar, but while it helped to syphon some of the anger she was feeling, the victory felt hollow. She took to the sky in disgust.

Ferrail’s home, where Kazzurak had originally accosted her, was quickly destroyed in the ensuing battle, so she decided to make a new home. She headed for the hole she had ploughed into the mountain when she had slammed into Kazzurak.

The cave seemed perfect for her new den, she settled in for what she knew would be a long recuperation, the lost scales would grow back but it would be many years before its body was perfectly armoured again. As she curled her aching body up, wrapping her tail around her snout, she was saddened to reflect that defeating the red demon had not unwound the deeds of the past. Ferrail knew she would never recover from the pain or the shame, never truly shake the sickening feeling of being defiled and violated.

Lying in her new den, Ferrail began to keen for all that she had lost that day. The low, mournful rumble emanated from deep within her as she thought about the newly fertilised eggs she now carried in her belly. What kind of dragons would they grow into? Would she one day have to relive these events with a new enemy? With one of her own children?

The thought was too painful to bear, and as fatigue began to drag her down into a long, restorative sleep, one of the rarest events in all the worlds occurred, the dragon cried. A solitary tear ran down the Ferrail’s scaled face and dropped into a hollow to form a pool of the most potent magical elixir that man would ever have the misery to discover.