Page 10 of World At War

“Skaldi’s ancestor wants the skulls,” she declares, her tone firm. “Make sure they are harvested and cleaned.”

With a snap of her fingers, her minion manifests, followed by a legion of demons eager to carry out their grim task. And as they set to work, I can’t help but feel a surge of anticipation. My collection is growing exponentially. Best day ever!

Chapter 8

Tiamat

As I watchmy cousin’s legion of demons move across the battlefield, collecting the skulls of our fallen enemies, a sense of satisfaction washes over me. It’s a grim task, but one that brings me a strange sort of joy. I know that my mother will share the harvest with the dragons, their presence a reminder of the symbiotic relationship we share.

But even as I take solace in the grim work being done, I force myself to refocus on the task at hand. I turn my gaze upward, the jagged rock face of the mountain looming ominously before me. It’s a daunting obstacle, one that will not be easy for our non-dragon family members to traverse.

“Nikita,” I call out, my voice cutting through the stillness of the battlefield. “Get your skeletons to start climbing again. The dragons will shift and carry you, mom, and Michael to the top.”

It’s a simple command, but one that carries a weight of authority. In this moment, I feel a sense of power coursing through my veins, a newfound confidence born from the blood memories of my ancestor and the gift of Gallus’s memories.With each passing moment, I feel myself growing stronger, more attuned to the ancient magic that flows through my veins.

Beside Rex, I am more than likely the most powerful being on this battlefield. It’s a realization that fills me with a sense of purpose, a determination to lead my family to victory, no matter the cost.

As the skeletons begin their ascent and the dragons prepare to shift, I stand tall, mentally preparing for the next leg of our journey. And as we prepare to face whatever challenges lie ahead, I know that with my newfound power, nothing will stand in our way.

As I observe my mother’s transformation, a mixture of awe and curiosity fills me. Like myself, she was the product of extensive genetic manipulation by the elves. It’s a recently learned fact that has shaped both our lives in profound ways.

The elves, with their insatiable thirst for power and control, meddled in the lives of my ancestors. They engineered unions and manipulated bloodlines to suit their own twisted purposes. They played at being gods, choosing who would be paired with whom and dictating the course of our lineage.

And here we sit, two beings born of their interference, each bearing the mark of their meddling in our very essence. My mother, a hybrid of ice dragon and Marelup Lycan, is a testament to their arrogance and folly. She should not exist, for in nature, children of mixed species mating are typically either one species or the other, never a combination of the two.

Yet my mother defies convention, her existence a living paradox that challenges the very laws of nature. She is a creature of ice and fury, a fusion of two worlds that should never havebeen brought together. And yet, here she stands before me, a testament to the power of magic and the folly of those who seek to control it.

As I watch her shift back into her hybrid form, I can’t help but wonder at the implications of our existence. What other secrets lie buried in our bloodline, waiting to be uncovered? And what role do we play in the grand tapestry of fate that the elves have woven for us?

But for now, I push aside these questions, focusing instead on the task at hand. For in the midst of war, there is no time for contemplation or reflection. There is only the relentless march of battle, and the unyielding determination to emerge victorious against all odds. And as I stand beside my mother, I know that together, we will face whatever challenges lie ahead, drawing strength from the blood that courses through our veins and the bond that binds us as family.

As I shift into my majestic dragon form, a surge of power courses through my veins, the weight of centuries of draconic heritage settling upon my massive frame. With a shake of my scales, I stretch out my wings, feeling the rush of wind against my leathery skin.

My mother, ever the fearless warrior, climbs onto my back, her presence a reassuring weight between the horns on my head. With a flick of my tail, I lower the frill on my back, providing her with added protection amidst the chaos of battle.

Turning my gaze to the other dragons in our family, I see a similar scene unfolding. Rex, the ancient wyrm, stands tall and proud. His massive form is a testament to the countless years he has spent roaming the skies. Nikita and Michael, my cousin,and her mate, stand confidently on his head, their expressions determined as they prepare for the coming onslaught.

I am not much smaller than Rex, a fact that sets my mind racing with thoughts and questions. Despite being a fraction of his age, I am almost his size, a realization that fills me with a sense of wonder and curiosity. How is it possible that I have grown so quickly, surpassing even the oldest and most powerful dragons in our midst?

But there is no time to dwell on such matters now, not when the fate of our realm hangs in the balance. With a mighty roar, I signal to the rest of our surface army, urging them to climb onto our backs and prepare for battle. Side by side, we stand united, a formidable force against the darkness that threatens to engulf us.

And as we take to the skies, the wind whipping through our scales and the roar of battle echoing in our ears. I know that together, we will face whatever challenges lie ahead, drawing strength from the bonds that unite us as family and the power that courses through our veins as dragons.

As the wind rushes over my scales, the sensation is both exhilarating and comforting, a reminder of the freedom and power that comes with flight. With each powerful beat of my wings, I propel us higher into the sky, my massive form soaring effortlessly through the air.

Below us, I can see hundreds of dark denizens moving en-mass towards a darkened horizon, their twisted forms a stark contrast against the backdrop of the sky. My gut tells me we need to head in that direction, that the source of our enemy’s strength lies somewhere beyond the horizon.

But it is not just intuition guiding me. The pull of the spell I used to locate Austin’s missing head tugs at my senses, drawing me ever closer to our destination. With each passing moment, the pull grows stronger, a beacon of guidance amidst the chaos of battle.

I roar through the dragon bond, my voice echoing in the minds of my kin, telling them what I am sensing. Rex, ever the wise and ancient wyrm, agrees with me, his reassurance bolstering my confidence tenfold. With a slight tilt of my head, I signal for him to take the lead. It is better to let someone with thousands of years of experience to guide us to victory than for me to lead us to our doom.

And so, with Rex at the helm, we set off towards the darkened horizon, our wings beating in unison as we soar through the sky. As we journey onwards, I can’t help but feel a sense of determination coursing through my veins, knowing that whatever challenges lie ahead, we will face them together, united in purpose and strength.

As Rex suddenly banks right in mid-flight, a sense of urgency fills the air, and we follow his lead without question. The wind whips around us as we adjust our course, the rush of air against our scales a constant reminder of the speed at which we are traveling.

Before long, we find ourselves descending towards a tar-like river, its dark surface shimmering ominously in the fading light. With a graceful landing, our army clambers off Rex’s back, their movements fluid and practiced.

As Rex shifts back into his human form, we approach him cautiously, our eyes trained on him as he speaks. His voice is heavy with emotion as he reveals the truth: they have magescapable of controlling dragons, and it was they who imprisoned him.

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