Chapter 2: The Prodigy of Folkheim
An orange flame tinged blue at the ends spurned from Lior's body igniting wherever his hand pointed. Maladies swarmed the borders of Folkheim wave after wave like a wrathful plague as they stamped towards him shaking the ground. But the dragon marked stood firm, an intense focus engraved on his face as he moved through the monsters torching them to ash.
It was not enough and Lior knew that no matter how many he set ablaze another would simply rush through its cindered flesh. He placed both hands out a flash of blue flames spread throughout the entirety of the eastern border reaching the dark forest in front of him. Everything touched by his flame didn't just burn but slowed as if time was under a lethargy.
Lior's muscles and head strained at this effort, his jaw clenched, and his teeth began to grind. His grey eyes sparked with his flames aspect as he increased the strength of his dragon's fire. A heaviness started to weigh down on his mind and body. The longer he kept this going the weaker he would be for the rest of the ensuing swarm. But he couldn't allow any more Maladies to make it into the village. Time, he didn't have, he needed to do something big, a finishing blow that would at least allow Sluter and Marisol to maintain their defenses. Yet even that hope hinged on them being alive, a possibility Lior had to consider not being true.
Suddenly a tortuous roar like the mutinous neighing of a horse and lion came from within the forest. Lior's eyes peered into the distant darkness; towering trees fell apart like collapsing waves, sharp white eyes glowed with heavy steps that smashed lesser maladies without heed. Without realizing Lior stepped backward as the monster entered the open night, the moon and flame illuminating its hideous figure.
First, he saw its obsidian tusks dragging through the corpse of its kind, then large hooves creased the earth, its body was muscled appearing more durable than hardened iron and waving atop its back like an omen was a black mane. With each step it took a violet enmity radiated from its hooves, the substance poisonous to the land causing the ground to decay.
Why was an elder Malady here, how?
The pounding of his heart hushed the sound of flickering embers and rushing monsters.
The beast reared up its forelegs and stomped the ground making Lior lose his balance. It trampled forth glaring hungrily at him. Lior leapt to the side turning towards the beast who twisted back around and charged back at him. His hand burned bright orange as he stretched it at the elder malady unleashing a scouring flame. He pushed the power more and more until blood dripped from his nose, the taste of it bitter on his lips. However, the malady's skin was tough, unlike any the dragon marked had fought before.
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“Neph, I need your guidance!” Lior yelled internally to his dragon bound, but no response came. “Please.”
The beast sprinted through Lior's flame, its head lowered and ready to mangle him. Invoking the power of his mark Lior manifested white scales over his upper body just as the monster mauled him. Lior dug his feet into the dirt until he was knee deep into the ground, only then did he manage to halt the beast. He clutched the sides of the malady's head trying desperately to twist it off him while it kept pushing.
Lior tensed his muscles until they felt like splitting and lifted the beast up into the air, tossing it into a bed of his flames. His stomach was bruised, not even the scales could fully protect him from the beast's strength. He grunted as he felt a broken rib. He wasn't strong enough to beat this thing, maybe if Sluter or Marisol were here to help then perhaps. Except they were not here to aid him.
The malady snapped back up bucking the flames from its body. But Lior's aspect hampered its movement, giving him a few extra seconds. He gazed at his dragon mark and breathed deeply, the smell of ash and blood mingling together urged his mind to a solution. With no other option afforded to him Lior focused on gathering the preternatural power residing within him.
"My soul rests eternally between the heavens," Lior extended his arm out with his palm facing the ground. The malady had finally unshackled itself from the effects of his flame and began stampeding towards him. "Rise to my hand Nepheloga."
A ring of blue fire burst around him; the head of a white dragon shattered the space above him soaring at the oncoming Malady. Pure white light enshrined the battlefield as the dragon’s large ivory body overshadowed even the dreadful elder Malady. Nepheloga slammed the malady back, overpowering it in few swift movements. The white dragon unhinged its jaw and sunk blade-like teeth into its neck. The malady tried to wrangle Lior's mighty dragon to the ground; however, Nepheloga lifted the malady into the sky and breathed his blue flame. It rose up to the endless night like an azure pillar and once it reached the slumbering heavens scattered across the sky. As he expelled his mighty breath the radiant dragon chewed on the malady’s black cindered flesh until there was nothing left, and the night turned into day.
Lior was on his knees breathing heavily, his eyes fighting to stay open, but his soul had become drained from summoning Nephologa from the dragon realm. Even with him eating the elder malady it would take too long for their soul to convert its essence into energy. He had to leave the rest to his fellow dragon marked.
"Save them." Lior tried to usher out more words, but he found himself incapable of even that tiny effort. For a few seconds more his eyes fluttered before succumbing to his tired soul.
The young white dragon turned towards his soul bound with a deep sadness. "You did well, I know secrecy is not in your nature. I am sorrowful I had to ask this of you, while I may not be able to save them all I shall ensure the one you cherish most lives.