Chapter 278 - The Scale: Free (2/2)

It was only when he had a hatchling of his own, taken in by the allure of an impure dragon in the far flung reaches of the south, that he came to realize the value of life. When he looked into the wondering, so very innocent and blank eyes of his offspring, he could only see potential. Infinite potential.

And who was he to cull that potential, to determine it weak and unworthy?

”So, what will it be, dear Gronn?” Valerikynthimos's voice rang through the air, anchoring Gronn back to the present. ”You were oh so close to reaching the heights of Torr Valeris. If you do not fail this task, I may yet forgive your imperfections. I may yet still allow you to enter the vale where your blood may be recognized as worthy.”

Gronn stared into the eyes he had put himself under for fifty years. Thirty of those years hunting, twenty of them pretending to serve while saving. And yet, that did not change the fact that those were all years he was not free.

He set his jaw, steadying his head back to ready for a charge as the muscles around his body and back tensed and rippled, his wings stiffening and spreading to his sides.

The elf would take care of those Gronn had saved. All the hatchlings, eggs, wyrms, and young drakes were due to make their way south, away from the grasp of the higher. It was already too late for Valerikynthimos to undo what Gronn had done.

And it was selfish, but he remembered. His arm and the seer.

He had a life to lose. A life he had lived in eternal servitude, first to the curse in his ancestral blood, then to the higher dragons that perpetuated it. If he was going to lose this life, then he wanted to do it while feeling free at least once.

Gronn roared, for he was never one for many words, and he thrust his wings backwards, propelling himself forwards. His wide tail straightened behind him with a solid push, sending him hurtling forwards like a meteor of muscled destruction. His enormous, plated jaw was open, and his bladed wings thrust forwards, ready to skewer Valerikynthimos.

”Disappointing. And I was ready to take in another consort,” said Valerikynthimos as she closed her eyes in disdain, thin veils of membranous flesh slithering over the inky orbs.

The four frills around her neck  gathered a colossal amount of magical energy, enough to warp the space around her. The emerald wing clan drakes around her scattered away, shrieking in fear.

For the slightest of instants, the elements ran wild around her. A torrent of fire so large that it could engulf an entire forest flared up from one of her frills, a tidal wave of water capable of engulfing an entire city pouring out from another, a surge of hurricane force winds from another, and a veritable mountain of glistening crystals erupted from the last.

Then each of the four elements shrunk into four rapidly accelerating and hyper condensed orbs around her frills.

Gronn was near now, to the point where in the next half second, he could bite down on her neck and tear her throat apart. He knew that if his initial charge could shatter through her magic barrier, that if by some miraculous chance his jaws could set around that neck, then he could kill her.

But that did not happen. All that Gronn saw was light so brilliant it even blinded him as the four orbs shot towards him.