Arya felt the air whipping past her face as the ground came to meet her, but it would never hit. As she fell she let herself turn to smoke, and her smoke turn to hound. Her howl was that of all the pain and torment they had caused her, plus all the rage she would let loose on them. And she did. While others had their battles, Arya swept her region clean, clawing, tearing, devouring and maiming her targets, letting those she had not reach reached suffocate on her shadows, all of them dying horribly painful deaths. She ate at their flesh and their hearts, until none was left and she stood tall on a pile of her bodies, a signature of hers that seemed to be reflex even in those mood.
She looked up, seeing the demons swarming Narxis and howled again, begging the legions to descend on her and try at their hand to stop her. She felt invincible. And she felt hungry, her lust far from staved.
~
Lairia could feel the barrier swaying, but that wasn't going good enough for Lairia. She pushed back against it, the stone glowing on her breast as she felt it crumple.
"It's coming apart!" she yelled, seeing the men inside, all standing at the ready. She prayed Jamie and his army was ready, for this was going to be one hell of a battle.
She continued working on the barrier, even as horns sounded, signalling the start of this war. And then, from far across the fields she saw something she couldn't believe.
"Elaya," she breathed, pointing with one hand. There at the door to the ranch stood Nickens...and someone in a clocked hood, their face masked. Something scared Lairia about the masked figure, but what worried her more was...Ebony. She stood there, at the hooded figures side, looking fierce.
"It's Ebony. Who is that that has her?"
~
The funeral had been lovely, yet sad. Octavia had been given the proper ritual passing, one fit for a dragon as she was. When the ceremonies were over, Jeziah and Sera stayed for one night as to be polite to their hosts, before taking off early the next morning.
Within two nights Seraphina had grown quite a few years. She had easily jumped from her twelve/thirteen year old self to a very sassy fifteen year old who only spoke in mutters and snaps. Thankfully the dragons understood the rebirth process, and Sera held her tongue through the funeral.
By the next morning the girl had mostly filled out, her young face looking distinctly seventeen, maybe even on the verge of eighteen. And after a very long lecture with a few of the oldest dragons and some of Octavia’s relatives the day before, Sera seemed to have been set straight…mostly. She no longer spoke of revenge, but Jeziah noticed the rapid change in moods, like someone hit a switch. That morning she had been happy to leave, and by the time they actually flew off her impatience had made her angry. He noted to himself to warn Elaya, but the small altar in her personality was not as big as he feared, and it was something they could live with.
What he was excited for was how close they were to the end of her rebirthing. At her age now, by the next day she would be full grown and her memories would come. Sometimes they lagged a day or two behind, but he was hopeful. He knew Elaya would be thrilled to, and so they sped back, eager to get back to base.
When they got close enough to Lodestone both Phoenix’s began to dip in the sky, aiming to dive down and land within the clearing they left, dress, and find their way to the ranch. Jeziah flew underneath Sera by several feet, letting her soar through the clouds as he watched below, waiting to give the signal to descent. When they neared he let out a soft cry and dipped low, seeing her come through the clouds. They continued to dive at an easy pace, and Sera remained slightly above and behind him, a better vantage for her so that their wings did not get caught. As they sweeped low above the forest nestled between Golden Hills and Lodestone, Jeziah let out another cry, speaking in the tongue of Phoenix’s to stay low, out of sight of the town or the ranch.
It was a mistake he didn’t realize he was making until it was too late. As Sera dipped lower, brushing his wings, he heard a war cry from below and a sound of a gun, before net came flying from the trees, twinning around Sera’s legs and forcing her down, pulling her from the air. Jeziah acted on instinct, turning sharply and diving straight down to her. He couldn’t grip the net with his talons though and risk cutting her so he became fire, slithering across her to her legs and trying to burn the rope, which was obviously heat resistant. As he wrestled with it they plummeted, and he could see the trees coming up for impact all too quickly. With one last pull he freed the rope and turned quickly back to his bird form, trying to fly as Sera caught herself and soared higher, quickly trying to get away.
It was too late for him though. Even as his wings grew he hit the trees, knocking him so hard he lost his concentration. The rope remained wrapped around his hand as he fell, his half bird shape a blur of fire until he hit the ground.
“We got her!” someone yelled, footsteps crashing through the trees, “We got the girl!”
“What about the male?”
“Nickens said let him go back. News of her capture will rattle them, maybe make them rethink attacking, C’mon, let’s bottle this bird and get back.”
Jeziah looked up to the sky, seeing Sera flying in circles, calling down to him. He had a choice. And he made it. Shrinking his size down until he looked barely half his normal strength or size, he rolled in the dirt, pretending to fight the net. Twelve men came crashing through the trees, four with a large jar on a wagon, the other eight with guns and spears, ready to fight.
“Put her in the jar, so she gets weak.”
Go Sera! Go back to Elaya! he cried at her in shrill shrieks, seeing her circle one last time before flying off.
The men tossed water on him, making him steam before they picked him up and tossed him in the person sized jar, their gloves all heat resistant. He didn’t fight, nor try to escape. He needed them to focus on him, to get as far away as she could.
Suddenly a horn in the distance sounded, a sound of war.
“Shit, they are attacking!” one yelped, and another cried, “What was the point of this?! We need to get back to help Nickens!”
“What about the wagon?” one exclaimed as the men all started to run off.
“Leave it,” one yelled, “She’s as good as dead in there. One less asshole to fight.”
They scampered off, and Jeziah waited till they were well out of sight before he brought all his flame to life, shattering the glass through heat alone. It exhausted him to do so, but the fresh air was what he needed as he shakily got up and turned to flame, racing after the men. As long as Sera was heading to the ranch house, she was safe. He needed to be there for the final battle, to kill the bastards who almost ended his baby sister. He sped ahead, burning the men even as they ran. And when he arrived he did not take shape, staying in his firey form one step from flesh, allowing him to speak in a raspy voice as he stepped in beside Elaya.
"She's safe," he promised, skipping the hello's, "Where do you need me?"
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