Path of Dragons 17 - Chapter 3 - Escalation (Patreon)

“Baby dragons.  How quaint,” said the one in the middle.  He was at least half-again longer than the other two, with red-and-white patterned scales that Imal might’ve found beautiful in any other circumstance.  However, she was familiar enough with draconic facial expressions that it soured her outlook.

The dragon deities had come for a fight.

Or more likely, an execution.  Maybe they intended to settle for putting their inferiors in their places, but she didn’t believe that for a second.  She’d known dragons all her life, and none of them had been models of restraint.  Even the ones she liked were often slaves to their emotions.

Elijah included, and she acknowledged that with all the love in her heart.

Well, most of it.  She still held a little back, just out of spite over the fact that he’d spent years without remembering to let her know what was going on.  Sure, a lot of that was spent in agony that precluded using the little devices they’d been given.  However, there was no excuse for the aftermath, when he’d spent so much time growing a tree.

Thoughts of said tree twisted her stomach into knots.  She had never cared that much for flora, and certainly not enough to let its destruction affect her mood.  Elijah was different, though.  He cared deeply about the things he grew, almost like they slowly became his family.  That protective and caring instinct was one of the things she found most attractive about him.

One of many.

Countered by his plethora of flaws. 

The two sides weren’t equal.  Far from it.  But her relationship with Elijah was almost as frequently infuriating as it was rewarding.  Keeping it going was a labor of love, though.  She didn’t regret it for one moment.

“Oh, and some others,” the red-and-white dragon said, glancing directly at Imal.  Then, at Fiona and Okar.  They were the lone humans in the party, as Bogoni, Furyo, and Kalyn were all dragons.  So was Palikina, but as was her habit, she was entirely undetectable at the moment. 

Maybe her stealth would prove to be an unexpected boon.

“You needn’t ally yourself with them, serpentors,” he said, taking on a magnanimous tone.  “You may serve us in Bas’eltion.  We will protect you and offer a means by which you can advance.  According to your meager abilities, of course.”

Imal’s jaw flexed as anger coursed through her.  She had almost forgotten how tedious dealing with dragons could become.  The Vyrin clan was better than most, in that they only showed slight favoritism toward dragons.  If a drake or serpentor proved themselves worth it, they were held in almost equal esteem as like-leveled dragons. 

Many other clans took a more, well, draconic approach to the caste system.  To them, the lowliest of dragons was still significantly more valuable and vastly more important than even the strongest among the drakes.  And even further above the serpentors.

The only exception came when a member of those two lesser castes ended up transcending.  Only then were they afforded respect equivalent to that given to their draconic peers. 

It was an undeniable truth for any serpentor living in the Empire of Scale that they would never be considered equal.  Her parents had made as much clear, and from a very young age.  Her mentor had hammered it home. 

The sad truth of it was that, even then, life in the Empire was better than anywhere else they could settle.  Even as acknowledged inferiors, their lives were filled with privilege that most of the rest of the population of the multi-verse could never boast. 

That was what they all told themselves, at least.  They might’ve been the lowest tier of draconic society, but at least they were part of the empire.  Imal had begun to question whether or not that was actually true or just the result of extremely effective propaganda. 

Of course, she enjoyed a position of some degree of respect, but only because she was close to Elijah.  Sure, she’d established herself as a powerful combatant by placing so high in the Tournament of the First Fang.  And she’d continued that momentum during the demigod trial of the ancestral world.  However, the acceptance shown to her by the Vyrins was obviously tied to her relationship with Prosperity’s favored son.

Did she feel guilty about the advantages that afforded her?  Not even a little.  By all rights, she deserved it.  On behalf of her ancestors, all of whom had suffered the indignity of living under the boot of their draconic superiors.  On behalf of herself, because she had earned her rewards through blood, sweat, and often tears.

And most of all, on behalf of Elijah, who never exercised the advantages of his position.  Instead, he was as self-sufficient as they came, and he rarely asked anyone for help. 

In any case, Imal didn’t have time to dwell on all the ways Elijah was different from every other dragon she’d met.  Instead, the situation required the entirety of her focus.  So, in response to the dragon’s casual disdain, she found her expression turning into a scowl so obvious that even a dragon could read its meaning.

He leaned closer, clearly ready to slap her down for her impudence. 

Or given the size difference, step on her.  The dragon was enormous, and his front claw would’ve been more than enough to squash her.  Doing so wouldn’t kill her.  She’d been using the Vengeance’s cultivation chambers to work on her body, and she had made some significant gains, even jumping a tier. 

That wasn’t enough to put her in line with physical specialists like Okar or Bogoni – or even Kalyn – but it would serve her well enough. 

Before she could find out if her body could hold up to a dragon stomp, Bogoni stepped forward.  He held his weapon loosely at his side, but his shield remained firmly in place at his front.  She had seen how quickly he could respond to a threat, and what’s more, how stalwart his defenses were.  He’d held his own against the orc warchief – Ok’tarik, according to Elijah – back in the demigod trial. 

Well, holding his own might’ve been a mischaracterization. He had survived, which was all that really mattered.

Upon seeing the dragons, he’d offered to hold them off and slow them down so everyone could escape.  And Imal had every reason to believe he could do just that.  Still, she hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“What do you want from us?” asked Bogoni, taking the role of leader.  It made sense.  He was the group’s defender, which was a traditional spot for squad commanders.  Tacticians were better suited for armies, after all.  Regardless, he made no effort to hide his annoyance. 

Good.

They needed to know they were more than nuisances, that though Imal and her friends were mere demigods, they weren’t going to back down.

“We want to know what you’re doing here,” said the leader.

“Cleansing cells.”

At that, all three dragons broke out into laughter.  Considering their size, the sound sent reverberations up and down Imal’s spine.  She could feel the noise pounding against her brain like a solid thing. 

After the laughter had lapsed into forced territory, it faded out, giving Bogoni a chance to ask if something was funny.

“You.  You are funny.  Like a hatchling who thinks he can fly, so he jumps off a cliff.”

One of the others – with mostly yellow scales – added, “Cells are meant for the demigod cycle, little one.” 

Her voice sounded almost caring.  Motherly, even.  But there was a derision to it that clearly cut Bogoni to the bone.  He tightened his grip on his hammer and shifted his shield. 

“It needs to be done,” he insisted.

In truth, the cells offered them a more controlled means of progression.  Sure, Bogoni was right in that, ultimately, maintenance was required.  However, the predictability of the monsters inside was a key factor in their choice to attack them.  For a deity, doing so would be mostly wasted.  It added minimal points to the Ledger, and that mostly just because of the monsters being killed.

Yet, going out to hunt beasts away from the Vengeance was risky.  There was no telling if they might find themselves facing off against a high deity or an animal knocking on the door of transcendence.  Best case scenario, they’d find a horde of high-demigods or low-deities, but the chances that they’d be grossly outmatched was too high to make a habit of hunting the skies of Orveth Kaal.

“Custodians,” came a raspy voice that still managed to boom across the landscape.  The surrounding forest was quite, as if even the beasts knew better than to remain in close proximity to a trio of deity-tier dragons.  The speaker turned out to be the third member of that party, and he had grey-white scales that made him look almost like a draconic phantom.  He continued, snaking his neck forward as he spoke, “That is what they are.  Janitors, mopping up the muck.  Leave them to their depressing toil.”

“Yes, Oslo,” said the lone female among them, slithering closer to the red-and-white one.  “They work for scraps.  Let them.”

For a moment, it seemed like Oslo might choose to heed the advice of his companions.  However, at the last moment, he shook his great head.  “No.  We are at war.  We do not allow traitors free rein.  Especially when they are such weaklings.”

At that moment, he opened his mouth.  Imal only had the barest of seconds to react before a flame coalesced, growing thicker with every passing instant until it seemed almost liquid.  After that, he took a deep breath and tossed his head forward.  He did it with the disdain one might swat a pest. 

But the brief second it took for his flame breath to coalesce game the group the opportunity to respond.  Predictably, Bogoni was the first to do so, raising his shield and taking a step forward to position himself between the attacking dragon and the rest of the party.  Just as the flame spewed forth, he activated a skill she’d seen him use a thousand times.

Imal didn’t know the name.  Bogoni wasn’t one to brag about such things.  But she knew it was an ethereal shield capable of stymying a deity-tier orc.  Still, the flame crashed down on it like a waterfall, and while the fire itself stopped at that plane of energy, the heat continued on. 

The smell of cooking meat filled Imal’s nostrils as she gathered water from the surrounding atmosphere.  Fortunately the landmass where they’d found the cell was quite humid, so she had plenty of fuel for her spell.  She sent it forth in a cooling mist that she hoped would counter at least some of the heat.

The result was that the air was immediately filled with dense steam, obscuring everyone’s view.

At the same time, Fiona summoned a healing rainstorm.  Furyo took cover behind a nearby rock, while Kalyn leaped backward in an impressive flip that saw her land on top of the cell’s outward structure.  Before she’d even landed, she had filled the air with the twang of her crossbow and more than a hundred ethereal bolts that quickly found their way to the weakest among the enemy – the ghost-like dragon with the grey-white scales.

The counterattack seemed to stun the deity dragons, because when the steam began to dissipate and an mostly unharmed group came into view, they didn’t know what to do. 

Of course, Imal’s party hadn’t escaped unscathed.  Bogoni was still steaming, and he sported more than a few blisters.  However, he was more than up for the fight. 

Kalyn’s barrage was the only counterattack they’d issued, though.  And despite aiming for what felt like the weakest among the dragons, it had done no good.  Aside from leaving a few flesh wounds on the dragon, which he probably could have ignored. 

He chose the other route.

Fury rolled through his eyes as he shouted that they would pay.

Right up until Palakina rammed her daggers into one of those eyes.  It ruptured, spewing goo and blood in every direction. 

But her victory was short-lived.

He threw back his head, howling in pain.  That sent her flipping through the air, only to be grabbed by the female dragon who’d tried to sound so reasonable.  She gripped Palikina in her claws, hovering in the air as she squeezed.

Bogoni shouted, then erupted with ethera.

A second later, he disappeared, only for Palikina to take his place.  She collapsed bonelessly onto the ground.  Meanwhile, Bogoni had ended up in the dragon’s grip.  He had no chance of escape. 

Not unless they did something drastic.

Imal shouted for them to target that claw, and her people responded to her orders.  Furyo issued a rapid-fire burst from his pistol, while Kalyn shifted her own aim appropriately.  Even Okar leaped into the fray, slicing his swords into the dragon’s knuckles. For her part, Imal summoned a massive globe of water and resorted to an old, tried-and-true method.

Water blades.

They lashed out, slashing into the female dragon’s joint.  At the same time, Furyo’s and Kalyn’s fire landed.  The result was quite a bit more underwhelming than they would’ve expected.  In fact, it shocked the dragon more than wounded her.  But that brief distraction was all Bogoni needed to wiggle free.

As he did so, he shifted into his massive dragon form.

Imal knew what was coming.  It was the only viable route left to them.  They needed to escape.

So, she scooped Palikina in her arms, then raced toward Furyo.  The Engineer had already begun his own transformation, and Imal wasted no time before leaping onto his back, mid-shape-change. 

In seconds, his wings were beating against the air as they took flight.

Kalyn had assumed her dragon form as well, and though she was faster than they were, she didn’t push herself to stop speed.  Instead, she manifested arrows above her head and willed them to fly toward the dragons.

That was new.

But Imal didn’t have time to think about it.  Instead, after Okar had leaped to join her, she shouted for Furyo to go faster.  He did, but even so, it wasn’t long before Bogoni caught up, carrying Fiona in his lone uninjured claw. 

“To the Vengeance!” he shouted.

Imal had never followed an order so willingly. 

But despite Kalyn’s cover fire, their escape wasn’t assured.  The trio of deity-tier dragons were hot on their tail.