A debt doled out and a favor leveraged, our protagonist is finally ready to slay Gyro... Gyor... Greg. Some dragon with an unpronounceable name, suffice to say. Or at least ponder the thought. Turns out it's much more difficult in practice than you would expect, even when you can call on a dragoness as an ally. Bouncing ideas off of each other, Russo and Kaya eventually settle on the least-worst course of action available to them.

Icon is © to  DemonRoni

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Chapter 42

“Sooooooo.” Russo kicked at the ground, the soles of his boots scuffing loudly against layers of rock beneath him. “About returning that favor…”

“I’ll be with you shortly,” Kaya called back. Clawed fingers traced a pattern along a stalagmite slowly, her constant ogling of the armor set at her feet hindering her progress.

“You’ve said that I don’t know how many times now.” Stereotypes abounded of dragons hoarding gold, gems, and treasure. Or in Kaya’s case, anything sufficiently shiny. Fun as it was to poke at the kernels of truth behind them, it was uncomfortable, eerie even, to see just how… lustfully, the dragoness regarded her prize. She cradled the worn and beaten armor in her scaly palm, unable to hide the manic smile spreading farther and farther on her face.

“Time’s a relative, fickle thing.” Kaya pressed her fingers into the jagged spike poking out of the ground. Sheets of stone crumbled and peeled away from its surface. Once the dust settled, a cross was visible where the stalagmite once was, freed from its confines by the dragoness’ sculpting prowess. “You’re speaking with someone whose lifespan is measured in centuries, not decades. What you consider timely and what I consider to be so are worlds apart.”

“Is this something I should get used to?” The mage hunched forward and let out a frustrated sigh. “You picking apart my vocabulary every other sentence?”

“Need I remind that I’m not the one relying upon words that are open to interpretation?” Pinching the sleeves of Lady Kajastaa’s robe between her fingers, the dragoness timidly slid it over the cross. Very gently she tapped at it with her fingertips, smoothing out the crinkles in the fabric resting upon the arms of her sculpture. “Not that I mind,” Kaya hmmed to herself contentedly. Methodically tearing apart his syntax was proving irresistible.
The human watched on quietly, hesitant to open his mouth and provide her any further ammunition.

Kaya laid the curved blade at the foot of of her primitive mannequin. Atop its hilt went the thick leather gloves Russo had absconded with, respectfully crossed over one another. That manic grin of hers softened as she stepped back from her makeshift memorial. She dipped her head, regarding her construction with reverence.

“Just what was so special about this Ka…jastaa?” Russo couldn’t help but pause, surprised at the fact he hadn’t mangled that pronunciation. “Sullivan wouldn’t shut up about her. And you,” the human hushed himself while the dragoness pressed her scaly snout against the ragged robe, “y-you can keep doing what you’re doing.”

“She was a friend, near and dear.” Brushing her scales against the rough fabric rattled the chains of memories locked away in her head. Kaya could remember the sensation of the bear’s padded palm scraping against her snout. The familiar touch called to mind one long forgotten conversation after another.

“I’ll go ahead and leave it at that,” Russo mumbled. This was a time for action, dammit, not backstory. As much as he’d like to keep things moving along however, a sense of doubt collected in his chest, weighing down his steps and thoughts. Letting out a sigh, his doubts traveled up his throat and danced upon the warm air swirling between his teeth. “Not to seem… ungrateful or anything,” the mage struggled to properly formulate how to look monstrously powerful and magical gift horse in the mouth, “but why are you doing this, really? I get you a ratty set of clothes and you help me kill a dragon. Don’t get me wrong, I love how lopsided the terms are.” Kaya’s wings flapped gently, whipping up a gust laced with pebbles that blew back into the human’s face.

“You seek to preserve your friend’s well-being.” The dragoness withdrew into her memories. “And I seek to preserve my friend’s legacy, ensuring that she lives on.” Our goals are not so different.”

Huh. So not being a colossal jackass, along with exhibiting a healthy amount of conern for your beloved companions, earned you some sympathy points now and then. Neat.

Kaya glanced over at her pile of trophies slowly encroaching upon the ceiling. “My exasperation with constantly having to deal with the repercussions of Gyorrkith’s actions might have factored into my decision to aid you, now that I think about it.”

Fair enough. “So do we have a plan or course of action or, well, anything in mind for bringing down Greg?”

Kaya’s mind diviied up the mental tasks required of her. One side of her ancient reptilian brain committed itself to a stroll down memory lane; the other entertained potential strategies against her surly mountainside neighbor. Immediately after scrounging up her first plan of attack, she imagined Gyorrkith’s likely response. Magic cooking in her mouth, she would keep her teeth clenched together and force a scattershot of beams out of the gaps between her pearly whites, maximizing her attack’s spread. Her foe would likely ignite the air around him, his paltry curtain of flames just strong enough to cancel things out.

A counterattack was imagined and the ruby dragon’s counter to her counter was contemplated in turn. Kaya would up the ante, responding with a concentrated ray of colorless, elementally lacking magic. Powerful enough to pierce through his raised defenses at the very least. Aware of the mica dragon’s likely response, a fluid and noxious mixture of bile and magic would line Gyorrkith’s throat. Rattling his ribcage, a solid mass of whatever the hell it was he ate would come crawling up his trachea along with a belch of superheated air. It would combust upon contact with the cocktail of liquid and magic on its journey upward, and out would come a miniature meteor. Again, one display of magic would cancel out another. Frazzled, the right half of that scaly head of hers shut down and concerned itself with reliving the past. Play by play, her calculated strategies quickly devolved into a reactionary tit for tat.

“You never did delve into the finer details of your confrontation with Gyorrkith.” Her mind drifted back towards her last scuffle with another dragon, Kajastaa at her side. What was supposed to be a tense standoff between two parties unraveled at the seams the moment they made contact. That arrogant jackass Knoch couldn’t stop laughing at Kajastaa’s very presence, choking for air at the thought that the dragoness had willingly allied herself with a mortal. Wiping at his eyes, he forced out the last couple of chuckles before composing himself and setting about trying to kill them. “How exactly did you go about antagonizing him?”

Even taking their elemental alignment, or lack thereof, into account, there was little difference in the power between one dragon and the next. Fights between them were ugly and drawn out affairs with no clear winners. Twas the primary reason the winged reptiles never tended to clash in the first place.

“All I did was lean on the same spells I always do.” A soft blue glow covered his gloves, magic seeping out from his palm and out onto the stiff fabric. Snapping his fingers, a pale flash of light illuminated his face before he disappeared.

Kaya’s eyes swiveled, catching the faintest ribbons of magic gathering right as he reappeared besides her. A toothy grin crept up along her mug, relishing the thought of Gyorrkith belching out one attack after another at his moving target, growing increasingly infuriated with his plummeting accuracy. “Practical. Gyorrkith has rarely been forced to fight mortals who actually place an emphasis on self-preservation over glory.”

“He was plenty salty about me being fireproof and all too.” Fist clenched, rays of red light could be seen poking out from between his fingers. Splaying out his fingers with a jerk of his wrist, a flame burst to life just above his palm. Tossing his arm upward, Russo pulled down his hood with his free hand and let the ball of fire plop down harmlessly atop his head, embers twirling down onto his shoulders.

“You don’t say…” Kaya clacked her teeth together as history played itself out in her head.

Inconsequential and irritating. That’s how Knoch had perceived Kajastaa’s role during their battle. His insults and threats grew more toxic and desperate as the damage racked up, her ‘distractions’ providing the dragoness countless clean hits. Knoch’s most egregious oversight however, had to be shrugging off and making no attempt to dodge Kajastaa’s strikes. The bear may have been utterly incapable of ever piercing his hide, but her precision strikes stacked over time. One blow after another whittled away at his legs until finally the accumulated blunt force trauma was too great for even him to ignore. But by then it was too late, the dragoness clearly had the advantage.

“You, or Gyorrkith.” A clawed finger gently tapped at the mage’s chest. “Who was it that decided the battle between you was over and done with?”

“Greg,” Russo proudly stated as he straightened his posture. He may not have beaten him, but hell, the mage made a freaking dragon have a hissy fit. Hard to not take some pride in something like that. “Lazy lizard left in a huff when he figured out he couldn’t off me without a little effort on his end.”

“He’s already written you off as a pest then? Good.” Russo could serve as an ideal distraction if… “Your fight with each other came to an impasse, if I am not mistaken?”

The mage brushed aside the tongues of flames that remained on his shoulders. “I don’t have anything strong enough to put a dent in those scales of his. Most mages wouldn’t,” he shrugged. Even old man Varun would be in over his head in a situation like this. “Tch, not like there are that many people, period, that have what it takes to bring down a dragon.”

“We don’t need you to be strong enough to slay him.” She reluctantly dragged her full attention away from Kajastaa’s memorial, her gaze resting on Russo’s unimposing form. “Just powerful enough to warrant his divided attention.” The human was a nuisance, and a harmless one at that. Gyorrkith knew that, and if she left him as is the ruby dragon would completely ignore him. That needed to change if there was to be any hope of dragging him down from his perch.

“So you have a plan?” Straining to mask the incredulity in his voice, Russo still couldn’t bring himself to believe she well and truly was going to help him.

Kaya’s tail dragged along the floor, her scales scraping a semicircle pattern into the ground. “You could say that.” Clawed fingers twiddled against her cheeks, sparks bursting into light where her flint-like nails struck against her hide. “There’s an old saying you mortals like to use that comes to mind…”

“The bigger they are the harder they fall?”

“Not exactly.” As the nitty gritty of her battle plan locked into place, she had to concede that it wasn’t elegant by any stretch of the imagination. Practical, perhaps, which played well to the human’s strengths. Unconventional would be a… kind, way to describe it. “I believe it was ‘If it’s stupid and it works, then it’s not stupid.’”

“That… that is not at all reassuring.” Kidnapping Jem and dragging him back to Tedrah was starting to look more and more promising as the conversation carried on.

“Gyorrkith and I are evenly matched for all intents and purposes.” Her slitted eyes bore down upon the mage. “Your presence, to put it plainly, will not tip the scales of battle in my favor.” The mica dragoness rose to her feet and circled the chamber.

Russo clamped his teeth together at the roundabout jab at his person, irritated by the weight of the truth behind it. Strength wasn’t something he really prided himself on, that was Jem’s thing after all… but he did relish and… his attempt at salvaging his pride promptly derailed. Jem was strong. Ludicrously so. The thought of the giant fur duking it out with the ruby dragon came to mind; his massive furry fists slamming into Greg’s maw, the dragon’s claws ripping up the earth as he feebly held his ground. Russo may not have been able to turn the tides by his lonesome, but Jem could! Heck, Jem even has that fireproof armohh wait no that’s not going to grow with him he’ll be roasted alive dammit.

“If we are to have any hope of defeating him, you’re going to need more powerful magics. Something that will force Gyorrkith to cease seeing you as a triviality and recognize you as a threat, however minor.” Passing by Russo, Kaya entertained every unintended outcome she could fathom.

The mage’s jaw unclenched. His eyes followed her shimmering form in the pale light, Russo’s mind achingly drawing out the unsaid insinuations. “You don’t mean-”

“Regrettably,” Kaya exhaled through her teeth, “I do.” She had since deduced that there were no good choices available to her. They were all bad, to varying degrees.

An unbelieving grin crept up along the human’s face. “Sooo this is a thing. That is actually happening.”

Kaya rolled her eyes as she strolled around the opposite end of the chamber, her tail brushing along the stalagmites.

“I’m going to learn some spells from a dragon?” Laughing, he couldn’t stifle the smile on his face. Ever so briefly, his giddy excitement was dampened by a shuddering moment of clarity. Dax’s obnoxious face came to the forefront of his mind, the wolf’s ears poking up against the hood of the mage’s hand-me-down cloak. Aww fuck it. He could live with the cognitive dissonance.

“A spell. Singular.” Kaya was quick to correct his syntax, shoving her snout against Russo’s own.

Snickering, the mage twiddled his fingers against his palm. How would her beam translate into a spell? Would he need to coalesce a hefty amount of energy into his palm first before it cascaded out in a laser of pure, elementally lacking magic? Russo shifted his posture. Leaning back, he wrapped his left hand around his right wrist and splayed out his fingers. Or would a concentration of magic along his fingertips erupt into a ribbons of colorless death?

“The answer is no,” Kaya grumbled, her tail whapping against the back of his knees before he could shift into another pose.

A dragon’s magical breath would be pretty kickass too. He could already imagine it, bringing a clenched fist up to his mouth and blowing between the gaps in his fingers. A fine mist would spill out onto the ground and linger at his feet, following him where he went. Arcs of energy lashed out at those who dared to approach him.

“You mortals are all the same,” she scowled. “Greater power hasn’t even been bestowed upon you and it’s already gone to your head!”

“Learning how to mimic a dragon’s breath or fire a magical laser is pretty kickass though, you have to admit.” Even Kaya’s repeated thwacks against his person wasn’t enough to kill that smile plastered across his face.

“Oh to hell with it.” Rearing back her neck, Kaya drew air deep into her lungs. Her chest expanded from the influx of oxygen, the latent magic she pulled in pooling at the creases of her lips. Filled to capacity, the dragoness’ neck bulged and quivered while she filtered and distilled the collected energy from the air around them. A growing pressure manifested in her throat, rising slowly at first. When it finally became too much to bear, Kaya’s lips parted and a hot, dense, and heavy cloud of magic rolled out from her maw. The gas wrapped around Russo’s form, soaking into his clothes and skin. Bright green lines traced themselves upon him, green circles that overlapped one another bubbling onto his skin and clothing.

The dragoness patted at her chest and coughed while the spell continued doing its thing, ignoring the various flashes of light radiating off the human’s form. “There,” she impatiently stated. “You are now capable of imbuing yourself with the same protection Lady Kajastaa once did.”

Holding his hands up above his head, Russo pulsed the magic gathering in his palms. A soft blue and transparent wall appeared above him. Kaya slammed a scaly fist down upon it to no effect. Those same circles traced themselves into the barrier at her touch, effortlessly repelling the brunt of her attack. “Dragon scale barriers?” Nothing to scoff at, but he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Shit, it was either this or magical lasers. “Not that I’m…” yeah I am complaining, Russo thought to himself, “but why this? Greg already has a hard enough time landing hits on me. I’d much rather keep on avoiding attacks than block them.”

“He’s already familiar with your style of keepaway.” She plodded off towards the rear of the cave and lowered her belly to the ground. Fractures spread in the stalagmites along the wall as Kaya leaned back into them. “Gyorrkith knows what to expect from you. That dragon will be able to adapt easily enough, even if you are in possession of new and more powerful spells.” The dragoness shifted in place, breaking off the tips of the rock formations behind her. “Coercing him into dueling someone who can withstand his attacks though, both physical and magical, will unnerve him greatly. Hand in hand, that cloak and new spell of yours will be all you’ll need.” She could only imagine the look on Gyorrkith’s face. The ruby dragon had never been faced with someone who could directly confront him before

“But that just leaves me exactly where I started!” Russo scoffed. “He can’t hurt me and I can’t hurt him, what difference does it make?”
Kaya closed her eyes and yawned. “Another one of your mortal sayings comes to mind. ‘The best offense is a good defense,’” she cryptically replied.

Russo grumbled at the provided stock answer.

“Worry not, there’s good reason why I bestowed that spell upon you. That and I figured you’d have a much harder time abusing it than you would any other.”

“Tch. It’s not like I was going to abuse this whole newfound power thing right away.” And damned if he knew how he was going to harass people with what amounted to a magical shield. Russo clapped his hands together, experimenting with the shapes of his barriers. His spell’s square wall bowed out and took on a convex shape. Huh. These things had always been so rigid before. Pressing his thumbs into the translucent wall’s center, his fingers gripped at the sides. To his surprise, the now pliant and flexible barrier gave way and stretched. To a point. Scale like bubbles frothed to the wall’s surface, signaling it’s refusal to budge any further.

Kaya shook her head in response. “At least this one is honest.” Faint whistlings of the wind and snow flurries blew back far into the cave. Inclement weather was as good a reason as any to call it a night. Visibility outside was pitiful, the mica dragoness couldn’t afford to burden herself with any unnecessary handicaps. Hopefully the storm front would have passed by the morning. “You’re free to acclimate yourself to your new magics if you so desire,” she murmured. Laying her chin upon her hands, her breathing slowed. “However, I’m going to bed. So keep it down.”

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” Russo ducked under the now semi spherical barrier.

A scaled arm raised itself high above the dragoness’ head. She swiveled her hand about her wrist, fingers gesturing towards the cave itself. “Take your pick.”

Rolling his eyes, Russo pulled his cloak over his head. “Appreciate the hospitality.” The barrier sank to the ground and fizzled into soft blue twinkles of light. He folded up his cloak and let it drop to the ground with a soft plop. Sinking to his knees, he laid his head down on the impromptu pillow. “I’ve probably slept on worse,” he sighed as the cold, hard, and lumpy mattress pressed into his side.

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“Surely you can understand we only did what we had to!” Eyes clenched shut in frustration, Jem allowed the mole to continue on uninterrupted. Puffs of hot air escaped from his flared nostrils. “How else were we to respond? Every day that dragon has besieged us, methodically whittling down our spirits and our homes!”

With every passing second, the collie found himself yearning and pleading for Russo’s presence. At first Jem was merely wistful and lonely, desiring nothing more than that which he had been deprived of for so long; his best friend’s company. The more time he spent interacting with the locals however, he found himself missing the human for a myriad of other reasons. “He’s the asshole I could never bring myself to be,” the furred warrior simmered. Arrogant, mouthy, inconsiderate, lazy; it was far too easy to list off Russo’s shortcomings. All of which the shrunken giant found himself sorely in need of.

“Of course I can understand why you did what you did. That doesn’t make it any less aggravating or deceitful though!” Jem bluntly replied. As much as he enjoyed teasing Russo by functioning as his moral compass, the human did have a knack for dishing it out to those who deserved it.

“Will you help us?” The mole pleaded, bowing his head repeatedly before the fluffy warrior. His incessant begging reverberated around the hollowed out chamber the village now called home. A sinkhole in the making, a maze of tunnels branched out from it towards the countless homes above. Chunks of rock peeling from the ceiling and slamming into the ground below paid testament to how hastily the limestone walls had been dug out. Tents had been set up in the main chamber serving as-

“Oof!” A trickle of pebbles rained down atop Jem’s furry head, uneasily reminding of the cave system’s uncertain structural foundation. Living quarters, if you could even call them that, had been set up in the stabler parts of it anyway.

“It’s more a question of CAN I help you. Honestly, what did you think was going to happen when you lured people out here?” Fangs bared, the collie was none too pleased to learn that a few of the bodies he had spied above ground didn’t even belong to any of the villagers that called this place home. “You knew damn well no one in their right mind would come out here if you told them truth. Did it never occur to you that maybe there was a good reason for that?” His tail stiffened, held high against his back. These idiots were doing more harm than good, leading people to their deaths in a desperate attempt to pull their asses out of the fire. Even Russo put more thought into his cobbled together plans than these bums did.

“False hope is better than none at all,” a frazzled feline piped up. He brushed away at the soot worn into his blackened clothes. Every inhabitant down here looked worse for wear, the collie mused, as he glanced over the dominating fashion in the tunnels. Jem, donning his scratched and mud caked armor, was the most presentable one of the lot.

“That remains to be seen,” he sighed. He had options available to him, which was more than everyone else who came before him could say. One of which involved surging to mega massive sizes and giving that pest someone his own size to pick on. But even giants tended to avoid dragons when they came upon them, those winged reptiles were downright ferocious and nasty. Whereas those claws and teeth of theirs promised a swift and brutal end for the smaller folk, infection and rot were the primary concern on the larger furs minds.

A small crowd gathered around him, his very presence welling up what little hope that remained. He had survived! That was leaps and bounds better than what they had grown accustomed to. All eyes on him, Jem slumped his shoulders, flashes of envy and jealousy streaking across his mind. Why couldn’t Russo be the one here to tell them off?

“I-” Just say no, it’s not that hard. Russo does it all the time! Hell he doesn’t even have to think about, it’s practically instinctual. Wincing, the canine’s lips creased down as his own internal moral compass forbid him from straying off the straight and narrow. “*Sigh*” Nope. He just couldn’t do it. “I’ll see what I can do. Give me some time and… and I’ll think of something.”

Wary smiles crept up on the furs and humans crowded around him, their meager investment of tenuous hope having already paid dividends. “It’s not much, but feel free to help yourself to our meager rations!” Grabbing him by the hand, the mole led him over to a fire pit. Flakes of gray ash floated out from it, carrying a wafting heat that warmed the chamber with them. What looked suspiciously like pieces of house served as tinder. A pot filled with steamed leather shoes seasoned with pickled herbs and vegetables boiled above it.

“A-as generous as the offer is, I’ll have to decline.” Jem grimaced, pulling his lips together and shaking his head politely. Ever so slowly placing one paw behind the other, he attempted to distance himself. “I’d be better off pillaging their cellars.”

“Come now, no need to be so modest!” “

“Hahaha, no, really, I insist.” Heels pressed into the floor, the collie found himself being dragged forward.

“After all, it’s not like we can compensate you otherwise!” Humming to himself, the mole picked up a wooden bowl with a prominent crack running down the lip of the bowl to its base, held together with dandelion sap and petals.

“What.” Jem remained motionless while the bowl was placed into his open grip, his fingers gone stiff.

A rusted ladle dipped down into the pot, bringing back up with it a worn and soggy shoe sole topped with a pickled beet garnish. With a smile, the mole emptied its contents into the wooden bowl. Its contents began eating away through the plant sap and dripped out onto the rough collie’s hands.

The furry warrior could only stare down at the repulsive concoction brewing in his grasp, its corrosive contents burning away at his fur. It smelled faintly of feet and tetanus. Flattening his brows, Jem glared back at his hosts. If this place hadn’t already burnt to the ground when they got here, he was fairly certain Russo would have made sure it had by the time they left.

“And how long has this been going on for now?” he inquired through clenched teeth.

“Nearing on two months now,” the mole said with a tired shake of his head. “We-” he coughed loudly as he caught himself midsentence, leaving his addendum hanging in an awkward silence.

“Something prompted this.” The canine’s eyes narrowed. “What was it?”

“W-well you see…” laughing nervously, the mole scratched at his star shaped nose.

Groaning, Jem brought his hands up to his face. “Know what? I don’t even want to hear it. We were called out here to fix your fuck-up is what it boils down to.”

“How were we to know that dragon would notice a few gold coins missing from his hoard?!”

“Why did I commit to helping them.” Tossing his head back, Jem let out an aggravated whine.

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