The Ballad Of A Semi-Benevolent Dragon

Chapter 13: The Dragon Hunts

Doomwing found the dryad easily enough. She was, by far, the largest tree in the area, and she was surrounded by a grove of tree folk who were the next largest trees after her. However, she had definitely seen better days. Her leaves should have been a lush, vibrant green. Instead, they were dull and waxen, and her bark was peeling in several places. The grass around her was drab and lifeless when it should have been thriving, and the tree folk were slow and lethargic in response to his approach.

Had he wished, he could have killed them long before they had any chance to defend themselves. Yet he had revealed himself early to observe their response. The tree folk took almost a minute to uproot themselves, and they moved with a strange awkwardness that had nothing to do with their size and everything to do with the odd lethargy that seemed to have stolen the strength from their limbs. The magic that stirred within them and the dryad was less potent that it ought to be, and the lack of beasts or wild animals to aid in her defence spoke volumes.

She was ailing, and she had likely been ailing for quite some time.

"I am not here to kill you," Doomwing boomed as he landed nearby. "I seek plants and young tree folk for a dryad that I have acquired." He squinted at the dryad. What was her name again? He had definitely met her before, but he didn't bother remembering the names of everyone he'd met in the past. Still, he wanted to avoid picking a fight, not because he might lose but because even a weak blow would probably be the death of this dryad. He surreptitiously cast a ninth-order spell to peer into his own memories, so he could dig up her name. "It has been a long time... Lydia."

The dryad emerged from her tree and regarded him warily. Her skin was a mottled assortment of greens, and her hair was made up of vines and leaves of different kinds. In his memories, she had been worthy of her name. She had been vibrant and full of life, seeming almost to shine and easily stealing attention even in the presence of her fellow dryads. "Are you going to tell me that I look well, Doomwing?" She paused. "I had begun to think you were dead due to the lack of explosions. It appears I was wrong."

"The Sixth Catastrophe came close to slaying me, but I emerged victorious in the end, albeit not without help." He was not so arrogant as to claim sole credit for that victory himself. "And I won't tell you that you're looking well when you very obviously look terrible."

The tree folk bristled at his words, and their wooden bodies shifted. Spiky roots emerged from the ground and barbed branches extended from their arms. Razor-sharp leaves sprouted from their backs, and several of their ponderous forms moved to occupy his blind spots. Fools. He didn't need to see them to know where they were or to destroy them.

"As blunt as ever." Lydia's eyes narrowed, twin pools of faded jade. "You said something about plants and young tree folk."

"Yes." He called up images of the plants he wanted. "I want to obtain these plants, and I would like to offer any young tree folk who are willing a place at the side of the dryad I have acquired."

"Those plants... they are here, and I can help you find them. As for the tree folk, that is up to them. The young ones are not here. They are scattered across the plains in accordance with their traditions. A few might be willing, but I would ask that you only take those who wish to go. If you are asking for young tree folk, then this dryad of yours must be young."

"She is," Doomwing replied. "And Anthracia said it would be best to get young tree folk to serve her to avoid problems in the future."

"She was right to say that," Lydia replied. "But before I show you where you may acquire the plants you seek and use my power to ensure they will survive the journey you are on, you must do something for me."

"I assume you want help with whatever has left you in this condition."

"Yes." Lydia scowled. "You know more about magic than anyone else I have met, and my problem has to do with magic. Fix it, and I'll help you."

"Hmm... that is acceptable." Doomwing reached out with his senses and cast several greater runes of scrying and detection to better examine Lydia and her surroundings. The problem was evident immediately. Dryads generally lived in places with large quantities of ambient magic. However, the currents of magic in this area were weak, not unlike rivers that had been emptied by irrigation. Since he did not remember Lydia being a fool, this must be a recent development because no sane dryad would choose to live in a place so bereft of ambient magic.

"The currents of magic in this area are weak. How long have they been this way?" Doomwing asked.

"For at least two centuries, but the problem has been getting worse and worse." Lydia pointed toward one of the huge pillars of grey stone in the distance. "That pillar controls the flow of magic in this area. I saw no reason to concern myself with it because its default settings were more than suitable for my needs. However, someone was able to change the setting. Unfortunately, I lack the power to defeat that person, and I do not understand the pillar well enough to attempt to modify it. Besides, I'm a dryad. I cannot wander too far from where I am, and this is not a task I can trust to my tree folk."

Doomwing nodded in agreement. Tree folk were stalwart defenders and were generally loyal to a fault, provided certain conditions were met. However, they were not especially intelligent, and a wise dryad knew to issue clear, simple orders. Asking them to manipulate ancient technology that had been developed by the dwarves and elves would be an exercise in futility. They could very easily make things worse, and they might even be killed if they activated the self-defence mechanisms built into the pillar.

"Who is the culprit?" Doomwing asked.

"A sky whale." The dryad snarled. "So you can see why I am unable to deal with them."

Doomwing blinked. "A sky whale?" Although sky whales were far from stupid, this was the first time he'd ever heard of one operating something like the pillar. "Are you sure?"

"I am sure!" Lydia insisted. "When they first started coming here, they simply flew from one pillar to another, feeding off the currents of magic that flowed between the earth and sky. That was fine. But one day, their leader did something to the pillar. I don't know how he did it. Perhaps it was simply a lucky accident. But ever since, the pillar has been drawing more and more magic from this area into itself and then releasing it into the air when the sky whales arrive. I am starving to death because that pillar is able to alter the flow of magic more than I can."

"The dwarves and elves did build those things quite well," Doomwing said. "I think they'd be pleased to know their device is still working so long after their deaths."

"I need you to deal with the problem," Lydia said. "If you do, I'll even throw in a bonus."

"Oh?" Doomwing was curious to know what she deemed a 'bonus'.

"The wolves who invaded these plains were so dangerous because they were able to find a way to ascend from regular giant wolves into flare wolves. Help me, and I'll tell you how they did it."

"They ascended?" Doomwing bared his teeth in a smile. His construct had kept him apprised of Antaria's doings since his departure. She was busy enforcing her tyrannical rule on the monsters in his territory as befitted a princess. Quite a few of those monsters were giant wolves, and being able to turn them into flare wolves - wolves who could wrap themselves in flames and use various kinds of fire magic - would be quite handy. Antaria had also gotten the villagers started on a new set of crops with Daphne's help. Unlike their old crops, these new crops were going to be planted and harvested according to the superior methods that had existed during the previous Age. "Very well. I'll help you." His smile widened. "I've been looking forward to eating a sky whale or two."

"Great. They should be here any day now."

Fortune smiled on Doomwing, for the sky whales arrived the very next day.

He observed them from above the clouds, his presence concealed by runes. There was an entire pod of them, thirty in all. The youngest were newborn calves who couldn't have measured more than thirty feet in length. They stayed close to their mothers whilst the bulls formed a defensive perimeter, ready to act the moment a threat revealed itself. Most of the bulls were between a thousand to two thousand feet in length. Flying ahead of the group was the largest of them all, an absolutely gigantic sky whale that was even larger than Doomwing was. That whale had to be a mile and a half long, and he must be an old bull, given his colouration and the almost metallic sheen of the horns on his head.

There were different species of sky whale, but this particular species was known for being carnivorous. They used their powerful jaws to tear chunks out of other fliers. Their horns were a series of bony spikes that protruded from the top of their head, almost like teeth. They weren't very long, but they weren't designed to be used like the horns of a unicorn or the antlers of stag. Instead, these whales would ram into their opponents at full speed, driving their horns deep into the body of their opponent before ripping them free with a violent twist of their head. That would leave the opponent with a massive, gaping wound, which would either kill them outright or drive them out of the air.

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More than one dragon had met their end after underestimating these whales. True, they lacked a dragon's agility in the air, but their straight line speed was impressive over short distances, and their sheer size and weight made them fearsome opponents. Indeed, they were one of the few creatures of the sky who routinely grew larger than dragons.

But Doomwing had hunted whale like this before although the leader of their pod was easily the largest he'd ever encountered. It made him feel like a hatchling again. He could still remember his first sky whale hunt. He'd been young and eager and stupid, and he'd barely managed to fly home with a broken leg and dozens of cracked scales after a bull had clipped him. Even so, he'd managed his first kill, and the delicious taste and feeling of victory had soothed his aches and pains.

The keys to hunting sky whales like this were to strike hard and fast and to stay in a position that made it awkward for the whale to fight back. Dragons had their teeth, claws, and flame as their primary weapons, but they also had access to magic and could even use their wings and tail in a fight. A sky whale was most dangerous when it could bite its foes or ram them. Yes, they had magic, but they were often slow to use anything outside of enhancement magic, and they generally had difficulty aiming it at something they couldn't see.

Doomwing licked his lips in anticipation. It would be easy to kill the sky whales with his magic. They wouldn't even sense him until it was already too late. However, he had not come this far to cheat himself of the thrill of the hunt. Besides, killing all of them would be stupid. A pod like this was far too much for even him to eat. He could kill the leader, fix the pillar, and then give the rest of the pod time to grow before hunting down another old bull in a century or two. It wasn't as though they'd cause more trouble for Lydia. Once he killed the leader, they would avoid this place like the plague.

The pod settled over the pillar, and Doomwing watched as the old bull's magic reached out to the pillar. The pillar responded, and magic spilled out of it. The sky whales devoured it greedily, and the bull made a sound of satisfaction that was close to the ponderous rumble of a thunderstorm. Doomwing grinned. Imagine that. The sky whale really was manipulating the pillar. Whether it was instinct, intelligence, or plain luck, it was still impressive.

He let the old bull eat his fill of the magic. Doomwing wanted him at full strength.

With a thunderous roar, Doomwing dispelled the magic that concealed him and flared his wings.

"You've eaten your fill, but now it's my turn!"

He dove as the sky whales scattered, the younger bulls splitting into groups to safeguard the cows and calves. Doomwing smiled inwardly. This pod was truly impressive. Splitting into groups would maximise the chances of at least some members of the pod surviving. Indeed, many predators would be confused by the tactic and struggle to choose which group to chase after, allowing all of them to escape. Only the old bull remained, the mile-and-a-half-long monster turning upward to face him.

The sky whale did not speak with words. He could not. Instead, he projected thoughts filled with pure aggression and rage straight at Doomwing's mind. A lesser dragon would have flinched beneath the onslaught, maybe even retreated. Doomwing laughed. It had been so long since he'd fought someone who wasn't afraid of him, even if the whale was a fool who should have known better.

"Till death then!" Doomwing boomed. "In the old way."

Doomwing dispelled the multitude of magical defences he kept woven around himself and cancelled the attack magic he had prepared. The sky whale wanted to face him in a contest of physical combat. It was foolish, given all Doomwing was capable of, but his blood was burning, and only this sort of primal violence would satisfy it. Forget the time-honoured tactics he knew. Forget the careful analysis of strengths and weaknesses he was famed for. And forget stealth, subterfuge, or trickery.

This was a fight, a battle of teeth and claws against teeth and horns.

The two of them met in the sky over the pillar and the shockwave of the impact flattened the grass below them and shattered the clouds nearby. The whale's horns scraped along his scales, and Doomwing roared with delight and rage as he clawed at the whale's head and body. The whale tried to bite down on his limbs, but Doomwing kept them clear of the snapping jaws. The whale's fins and flippers flapped, and the beast drove them higher into the air. Doomwing could have tried to disengage and jockey for a better position. Instead, he clung onto the whale, slashing with his claws, biting anything he could reach, and whipping the bull with his tail.

The whale roared in pain, and a savage jerk of his body sent Doomwing tumbling away. He righted himself just in time to see the whale charging toward him like a flying mountain. He twisted aside at the last moment, the scales on belly shrieking as the whale's horns scraped against them. At the same time, he twisted and drove his claws into the whale's back, allowing the massive creature's own momentum to carve deep furrows into the hardened slabs of flesh there. Blood poured from the wounds and fell onto the ground like bloody rain, and Doomwing dove to try to take advantage of the whale's injuries.

The whale met him with his tail, and Doomwing spun away, jaw stinging from the force of the impact. How long had it been since he'd taken a hit like that? Not since the Sixth Catastrophe, and that had been magic, not pure, physical force. The whale charged again, but Doomwing was ready. He dodged cleanly this time, and he went beneath the whale, tearing into his underbelly and ripping at his fins and flippers. Yet the whale was so huge that he barely seemed to even feel the wounds

He rounded on Doomwing and dropped out of the sky like a hammer. Even with his speed and agility, Doomwing could not avoid the strike entirely. It caught his left arm, and the limb would have broken if he hadn't rolled with the strike, spinning like a barrel to rob the blow of its force and then using the momentum of his spin to lash out with his tail. The strike hit the whale on the face, and he felt something give way. But rather than be stunned by what was probably a fractured skull, the old bull just got madder.

"Magnificent," Doomwing bellowed. "How old are you, I wonder? You have to be at least an Age old to be this size and this strong. I remember my father warning me when I was only a hatchling that for all our size and strength, a sky whale like you might be stronger in purely physical terms. I didn't believe him, and I suffered for my foolishness. But you sky whales are all strength. Where is your agility, your cunning, your technique?"

The sky whale didn't answer. He attacked.

Doomwing could have used magic to enhance himself. The whale certainly was, now that he was clearly losing, but Doomwing wanted to enjoy this. The moment he used enhancement magic, the battle would end, and he was having fun.

What followed next was like a game of tag between a colossal dragon and an even more colossal whale. Over and over again, the whale would charge, and each time, Doomwing would dodge, landing a few blows before he broke off, only to repeat the process when the whale attacked again. Slowly but surely, the whale was bleeding out, the impact of each wound adding up until he could barely keep himself aloft. Doomwing had taken a few hits himself, but he was beaming, his blood running hot and exultant in his veins.

"You're just about finished, aren't you?" Doomwing murmured.

The old bull stared back at him, defiant despite the certainty of his defeat. Doomwing inclined his head. He could respect that. With a pained groan, the sky whale readied himself for another charge. It was likely the last real charge he could make, given his dwindling strength. So be it. Doomwing would end the battle now. He would give the whale the honour of dying at his claws instead of simply bleeding out.

The whale charged, but this time, Doomwing moved forward to meet him. He contorted himself at the last moment in a way only a dragon could, and then he drove his claw into the sky whale's eye socket. The blow pulped the bull's brain, and Doomwing wrenched his claw free and beat his wings to gain some height as he watched the sky whale plummet toward the ground below. The whale struck the ground with a terrible thump, and Doomwing dragged in several deep breaths. Blood was splattered across his scales, and more of it dripped from his claws, his teeth, and his tail.

He felt more alive than he had in centuries.

"Now to fix the pillar and then I can eat."

His gaze shifted to a group of riders approaching the downed whale. Ah. That was probably Derzu and his people. Well, they could wait until Doomwing was done eating before they got have any of the remains. Hmm... the whale had been a worthy foe. He would keep some of his heart to give to Antaria. The princess should be strong enough to survive eating it. If not, well, there were a few techniques that he could teach her that should allow her to survive. It could be yet another lesson. Moreover, eating even a small portion of such a mighty sky whale's heart should increase her strength and stamina. His lips curled. She'd have to eat it raw, though, because cooking it would only reduce its potency. That should be fun to watch.