Weapons clashed violently as Vethyeans engaged their monstrous enemies. Elements and projectiles flew wildly through the air. Blood and viscera sprayed across the battlefield, tinting the rocks and soil in a mixture of red and purple. Demons' remains no longer vanished upon their death and slowly began to pile up. It was a clear sign to their allies that the humanoids were not easy prey. But few seemed to care for their fallen as they rushed into combat. The evolved demons had new traits. The most obvious ones were flying above the battle. Some dove down for a quick strike before flying back while others opted for long range attacks. With precise movements it was possible for the grounded Vethyeans to cut down a descending demon.
Sariel found herself deep within the enemy ranks after throwing her allies. Some stronger troops were beginning to press inward but doing so left them partially surrounded. But there was no time to concern herself with how to assist the others. Winged monsters of all kinds targeted the draconic elf who hovered in their midst. Straightforward flight paths carried them with single minded attacks at the ready. Some creatures bound to the canyon floor focused their long range strikes on her. It was more of a gamble than a calculated attack but with their numbers, something had to land.
A year of constant training had improved Sariel’s aerial maneuvers. The obvious attacks from lowly demons didn’t phase her. Some were taken out from afar with a well placed arrow. Others needed to be handled up close. The bow transformed with ease into a sharpened sword before cutting off the wings of nearby targets. The sheer number of monsters caused a few cuts on Sariel’s elven body but none were notable. But death by a thousand cuts was an ever present possibility.
The flash of a well thought plan twinkled in her eye but she held it back. Veil was fast approaching and he would likely hesitate if taken unaware. Sariel banked on that.
It was surprising that the changeling only sprouted wings to reach the battlefield instead of fully transforming into a more formidable form. Though even Sariel had to admit that the thin body aided in swift movements. She was prepared for his morphing weaponry but knew they would be difficult to retaliate against. Blades transformed mid-swing as they collided with draconic scales. It was clear Veil had tested his creations against many beasts as they easily damaged Sariel.
The force of the attack pushed her aside. It took a concentrated effort to stop the momentum and find her place in the air. Chipped scales sprinkled off her arm and plummeted. Bare thick skin revealed itself underneath. Sariel could focus and heal the scales but the costs outweighed the benefit in a battle like this. Instead she focused on Veil’s wild eyed aggression. The next time he swung, his arms became two maces. She ducked under one then blocked the other with her blade. As the changeling pulled back, Sariel plunged the sword into his arm. The moment it was out of her grasp, she summoned another and swung at Veil’s side. He effortlessly blocked it with a shield. A swift kick to Sariel’s stomach sent both of them backwards.
With a crooked smile, Veil reverted his hand and pulled Sariel’s sword out of his shoulder. Exaggerated examination of the blade was met with a comical, impressed look. Flourishes and twirls made it seem like it was crafted for Veil’s hand. In truth it was a display of prowess. Having done nothing but research for centuries had opened his mind to what actions one should take in a war. His advanced mind allowed for fast paced processing. Whether to use it for direct confrontation or mental attacks was up to him.
The wound on his arm closed as it morphed into an unassuming hammer. Precise aim sent it down on the balance point of Sariel’s crafted blade. It took more effort than Veil expected but the weapon broke nonetheless. An exaggerated sigh and shrug were all he was willing to give before looking back at the elf. He rushed forward once again, transforming the hammer in size and slamming it against Sariel’s scales. It was clear to both of them Veil hated that part of her. This time, Sariel pushed back against the strike to keep from moving. More scales broke but there was little pain. A mixture of adrenaline and experience helped her keep composure.
Another sword appeared in her arm and she lunged at Veil. It was almost identical to the last time she hit him. There was no reason to block an attack that could be immediately healed. Sariel appreciated the warm welcome as the weapon plunged into her enemy’s arm. With intense force she ripped the blade out and left a large gash on Veil’s bicep. Blood sprayed out wildly and frightened nearby foes. The smile on Veil’s face stunned them further. The dangling muscles and skin stretched before binding together. Reverting to his prime state pulled back some of the blood that seeped down his arm. All throughout the procedure he stared smugly at Sariel.
But the slightest twinge of a smile on her face grabbed his attention. He looked down at his arm and noticed an unhealed portion the size of the initial stab on one part of his skin. That shouldn’t be possible. He went so far as to focus on his healing but the cut remained. A very distinct feeling was apparent in his body. Familiarity with it was inherent to his kind so a foreign object was obvious. Whatever it was forced more effort in healing. It made him imperfect. Blood trailed down his arm in a thin line.
“How?!” he spat.
Veil’s haughty demeanor gave him a blind spot when considering the capabilities of his enemies. Something he or Aeraza did allowed demon’s to wound people in a manner that hindered a godly healer. Victor had brought back Kargon from the brink of death and yet failed to aid people who were far less injured. While the loss of life was unfortunate, it made Sariel rethink her approach to fighting Veil. All the research he’d done in his life and yet he’d failed to think of how to counteract the many natural poisons in this realm. Poison that could be replicated by someone who held dominion over nature. But Sariel didn’t speak a word of it.
“You truly think yourself better than me?!” the changeling growled. “Simply because you outnumbered me at Zeld’s Shell you assume yourself powerful. Had it not been for your allies I would have been victorious.”
It was clear to Sariel that Veil was trying to get a rise out of her. Remaining steadfast was child’s play in a situation like this. But pushing him further could provide an avenue for attack. The dragon smirked and let out a snort. All her memories and adventure gave her an understanding of how others might react to such a display. To push it further she flew slightly higher as to look down on her adversary.
Veil’s silver eyes twitched as he rose further in the air. “That attitude of dragons has infuriated me far longer than you know. Born with an ‘unbreakable’ hide, you think yourselves superior. Unkillable. Allow me to show you they are nothing special.”
His body did not change shape but the outer layer of muscle morphed. It was a grotesque display of jagged leaves ripping through skin with a brief spurt of blood. The purple liquid was slick across rows of flat verdant spikes that sprouted across every inch of his form. As quickly as the wounds appeared, they vanished before the grey scales tightened against Veil. If there was surprise that the cut remained, he did well not to show it.
Instead, a smirk was wide across his face when he said, “Years of researching your body provided me with the secret to replicating your armor. You have nothing over me.”
“You speak as if my elven mutations provide nothing for me,” Sariel replied with careful words. Even now there was an opportunity to gather information from her captor.
“Aside from that weakened form, what else is there?”
The dragon couldn’t help but laugh at how foolish she was. All this time she believed Veil to be some mastermind with a grand plan. It was possible that Aeraza provided avenues that could not be explored alone. So many different possibilities that perpetually ran through Sariel’s mind stopped at that instant. Veil cared only for power. Aeraza was simply someone the changeling could not surpass and thus pledged fealty.
“Your intention was to simply weaken me,” Sariel said while lightly curling her elven fingers.
“I had no reason to concern myself with you once I learned to morph you into a such a state,” Veil replied.
“Thus you threw me out.” Sariel shook her head. “Doubtless believing that if we crossed paths I would be at your mercy.”
“My beliefs are rooted in truth!”
Veil rushed forward while fusing his hands into a lance. By his estimates, Sariel couldn’t produce a new weapon before being pierced through the heart. Whatever shame she’d wrought would disappear with an anticlimactic strike. That’s what the dragon deserved after humiliating one of the demon king’s confidants. Ideas of glory and his own army swirled in Veil’s mind as the lance got within arm’s reach of his target. Then all the momentum and force disappeared. Something impacted the changeling and sent him backwards a few feet.
Sariel hovered with her elven arm outstretched. From within her palm appeared layers of sturdy wooden petals resembling a lotus. Brown and green bark flowed outward like a river that clung to her skin. A pattern of scales matching her draconic ones in size and shape took over her entire body. The only difference was her face where she created a helmet with scales only on the outer parts and smooth plates at the front. Anyone else wearing the makeshift armor would feel weight akin to metal plating. Plant fibers tightly bound together within each scale to make them as strong as possible. Aside from a true dragon, none could tell the difference. Based on the evident shock on Veil’s face he was as surprised as Sariel intended.
“How could you produce magic from your elven half?” Veil asked with vitriol in every word.
“You simply forced a change in my shape. You gave me the appearance of a mutant elf,” Sariel responded. “I have come to realize it was intentional in hopes of dragging me into despair.”
Calm coldness in her voice carried on the wind and amplified. It shook the air and stunned her enemies.
“That was a failure. A misjudgment. For beneath this facade belies a dragon.”
As she spoke, branches and vines sprouted from her wings. The quickly expanding wingspan cast a shadow over the land.
“Every piece of me communes with nature,” she declared as petals wafted off her being towards the ground below. Luck or coincidence carried them on paths that interfered with enemy vision. But it mattered not to Sariel. Her eyes were trained on the creature that stole four centuries from her.
She bellowed, “I am the Sylvan Dragon and I will not succumb to you.”
Veil unconsciously put up his arms with transformed shields. A wave of shame passed over his face before he forced it to neutrality. Even Sariel could commend the monster for remaining calm in an unexpected situation. Though in reality she couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction. Thankfully, her helmet provided a steely, unmoving mask of calm. The same could not be said for the changeling making great efforts to hide his emotion. Fake dragon-like scales did nothing to hide his fear.
Weapons clashed violently as Vethyeans engaged their monstrous enemies. Elements and projectiles flew wildly through the air. Blood and viscera sprayed across the battlefield, tinting the rocks and soil in a mixture of red and purple. Demons' remains no longer vanished upon their death and slowly began to pile up. It was a clear sign to their allies that the humanoids were not easy prey. But few seemed to care for their fallen as they rushed into combat. The evolved demons had new traits. The most obvious ones were flying above the battle. Some dove down for a quick strike before flying back while others opted for long range attacks. With precise movements it was possible for the grounded Vethyeans to cut down a descending demon.
Sariel found herself deep within the enemy ranks after throwing her allies. Some stronger troops were beginning to press inward but doing so left them partially surrounded. But there was no time to concern herself with how to assist the others. Winged monsters of all kinds targeted the draconic elf who hovered in their midst. Straightforward flight paths carried them with single minded attacks at the ready. Some creatures bound to the canyon floor focused their long range strikes on her. It was more of a gamble than a calculated attack but with their numbers, something had to land.
A year of constant training had improved Sariel’s aerial maneuvers. The obvious attacks from lowly demons didn’t phase her. Some were taken out from afar with a well placed arrow. Others needed to be handled up close. The bow transformed with ease into a sharpened sword before cutting off the wings of nearby targets. The sheer number of monsters caused a few cuts on Sariel’s elven body but none were notable. But death by a thousand cuts was an ever present possibility.
The flash of a well thought plan twinkled in her eye but she held it back. Veil was fast approaching and he would likely hesitate if taken unaware. Sariel banked on that.
It was surprising that the changeling only sprouted wings to reach the battlefield instead of fully transforming into a more formidable form. Though even Sariel had to admit that the thin body aided in swift movements. She was prepared for his morphing weaponry but knew they would be difficult to retaliate against. Blades transformed mid-swing as they collided with draconic scales. It was clear Veil had tested his creations against many beasts as they easily damaged Sariel.
The force of the attack pushed her aside. It took a concentrated effort to stop the momentum and find her place in the air. Chipped scales sprinkled off her arm and plummeted. Bare thick skin revealed itself underneath. Sariel could focus and heal the scales but the costs outweighed the benefit in a battle like this. Instead she focused on Veil’s wild eyed aggression. The next time he swung, his arms became two maces. She ducked under one then blocked the other with her blade. As the changeling pulled back, Sariel plunged the sword into his arm. The moment it was out of her grasp, she summoned another and swung at Veil’s side. He effortlessly blocked it with a shield. A swift kick to Sariel’s stomach sent both of them backwards.
With a crooked smile, Veil reverted his hand and pulled Sariel’s sword out of his shoulder. Exaggerated examination of the blade was met with a comical, impressed look. Flourishes and twirls made it seem like it was crafted for Veil’s hand. In truth it was a display of prowess. Having done nothing but research for centuries had opened his mind to what actions one should take in a war. His advanced mind allowed for fast paced processing. Whether to use it for direct confrontation or mental attacks was up to him.
The wound on his arm closed as it morphed into an unassuming hammer. Precise aim sent it down on the balance point of Sariel’s crafted blade. It took more effort than Veil expected but the weapon broke nonetheless. An exaggerated sigh and shrug were all he was willing to give before looking back at the elf. He rushed forward once again, transforming the hammer in size and slamming it against Sariel’s scales. It was clear to both of them Veil hated that part of her. This time, Sariel pushed back against the strike to keep from moving. More scales broke but there was little pain. A mixture of adrenaline and experience helped her keep composure.
Another sword appeared in her arm and she lunged at Veil. It was almost identical to the last time she hit him. There was no reason to block an attack that could be immediately healed. Sariel appreciated the warm welcome as the weapon plunged into her enemy’s arm. With intense force she ripped the blade out and left a large gash on Veil’s bicep. Blood sprayed out wildly and frightened nearby foes. The smile on Veil’s face stunned them further. The dangling muscles and skin stretched before binding together. Reverting to his prime state pulled back some of the blood that seeped down his arm. All throughout the procedure he stared smugly at Sariel.
But the slightest twinge of a smile on her face grabbed his attention. He looked down at his arm and noticed an unhealed portion the size of the initial stab on one part of his skin. That shouldn’t be possible. He went so far as to focus on his healing but the cut remained. A very distinct feeling was apparent in his body. Familiarity with it was inherent to his kind so a foreign object was obvious. Whatever it was forced more effort in healing. It made him imperfect. Blood trailed down his arm in a thin line.
“How?!” he spat.
Veil’s haughty demeanor gave him a blind spot when considering the capabilities of his enemies. Something he or Aeraza did allowed demon’s to wound people in a manner that hindered a godly healer. Victor had brought back Kargon from the brink of death and yet failed to aid people who were far less injured. While the loss of life was unfortunate, it made Sariel rethink her approach to fighting Veil. All the research he’d done in his life and yet he’d failed to think of how to counteract the many natural poisons in this realm. Poison that could be replicated by someone who held dominion over nature. But Sariel didn’t speak a word of it.
“You truly think yourself better than me?!” the changeling growled. “Simply because you outnumbered me at Zeld’s Shell you assume yourself powerful. Had it not been for your allies I would have been victorious.”
It was clear to Sariel that Veil was trying to get a rise out of her. Remaining steadfast was child’s play in a situation like this. But pushing him further could provide an avenue for attack. The dragon smirked and let out a snort. All her memories and adventure gave her an understanding of how others might react to such a display. To push it further she flew slightly higher as to look down on her adversary.
Veil’s silver eyes twitched as he rose further in the air. “That attitude of dragons has infuriated me far longer than you know. Born with an ‘unbreakable’ hide, you think yourselves superior. Unkillable. Allow me to show you they are nothing special.”
His body did not change shape but the outer layer of muscle morphed. It was a grotesque display of jagged leaves ripping through skin with a brief spurt of blood. The purple liquid was slick across rows of flat verdant spikes that sprouted across every inch of his form. As quickly as the wounds appeared, they vanished before the grey scales tightened against Veil. If there was surprise that the cut remained, he did well not to show it.
Instead, a smirk was wide across his face when he said, “Years of researching your body provided me with the secret to replicating your armor. You have nothing over me.”
“You speak as if my elven mutations provide nothing for me,” Sariel replied with careful words. Even now there was an opportunity to gather information from her captor.
“Aside from that weakened form, what else is there?”
The dragon couldn’t help but laugh at how foolish she was. All this time she believed Veil to be some mastermind with a grand plan. It was possible that Aeraza provided avenues that could not be explored alone. So many different possibilities that perpetually ran through Sariel’s mind stopped at that instant. Veil cared only for power. Aeraza was simply someone the changeling could not surpass and thus pledged fealty.
“Your intention was to simply weaken me,” Sariel said while lightly curling her elven fingers.
“I had no reason to concern myself with you once I learned to morph you into a such a state,” Veil replied.
“Thus you threw me out.” Sariel shook her head. “Doubtless believing that if we crossed paths I would be at your mercy.”
“My beliefs are rooted in truth!”
Veil rushed forward while fusing his hands into a lance. By his estimates, Sariel couldn’t produce a new weapon before being pierced through the heart. Whatever shame she’d wrought would disappear with an anticlimactic strike. That’s what the dragon deserved after humiliating one of the demon king’s confidants. Ideas of glory and his own army swirled in Veil’s mind as the lance got within arm’s reach of his target. Then all the momentum and force disappeared. Something impacted the changeling and sent him backwards a few feet.
Sariel hovered with her elven arm outstretched. From within her palm appeared layers of sturdy wooden petals resembling a lotus. Brown and green bark flowed outward like a river that clung to her skin. A pattern of scales matching her draconic ones in size and shape took over her entire body. The only difference was her face where she created a helmet with scales only on the outer parts and smooth plates at the front. Anyone else wearing the makeshift armor would feel weight akin to metal plating. Plant fibers tightly bound together within each scale to make them as strong as possible. Aside from a true dragon, none could tell the difference. Based on the evident shock on Veil’s face he was as surprised as Sariel intended.
“How could you produce magic from your elven half?” Veil asked with vitriol in every word.
“You simply forced a change in my shape. You gave me the appearance of a mutant elf,” Sariel responded. “I have come to realize it was intentional in hopes of dragging me into despair.”
Calm coldness in her voice carried on the wind and amplified. It shook the air and stunned her enemies.
“That was a failure. A misjudgment. For beneath this facade belies a dragon.”
As she spoke, branches and vines sprouted from her wings. The quickly expanding wingspan cast a shadow over the land.
“Every piece of me communes with nature,” she declared as petals wafted off her being towards the ground below. Luck or coincidence carried them on paths that interfered with enemy vision. But it mattered not to Sariel. Her eyes were trained on the creature that stole four centuries from her.
She bellowed, “I am the Sylvan Dragon and I will not succumb to you.”
Veil unconsciously put up his arms with transformed shields. A wave of shame passed over his face before he forced it to neutrality. Even Sariel could commend the monster for remaining calm in an unexpected situation. Though in reality she couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction. Thankfully, her helmet provided a steely, unmoving mask of calm. The same could not be said for the changeling making great efforts to hide his emotion. Fake dragon-like scales did nothing to hide his fear.
