The Ballad Of A Semi-Benevolent Dragon
Chapter 61: The Dragons Clash

Doomwing could easily have attacked Quakeclaw before he drew near. He was undoubtedly the other dragon's superior at long range. But he was no coward, and he had too much respect for the old ways to defy them in such a manner. Besides, this was no petty squabble. This was a challenge, and challenges were not to be taken lightly. It was not enough to win. He had to win in the right way.

And… for all his faults, Quakeclaw had always answered the call to fight against the Catastrophes. He had earned Doomwing's respect. If it was a battle that Quakeclaw wanted, then Doomwing would give him one, the results of which could not be disputed.

Quakeclaw drew to a halt several miles away. "Doomwing." His voice was a mountain torn asunder, and the land beneath them trembled as the desert sands swirled restlessly through the air. Each beat of his wings was a hurricane, and each breath he took sent ripples through the currents of magic that flowed through the earth. "You know why I am here."

"I do." Doomwing met Quakeclaw's gaze evenly. The other dragon had grown since the last time he'd laid eyes on him. It was like looking at a winged mountain. Only Ashheart was larger, and not by much. "But not here."

Apart from their fellow primordial dragons, there were plenty of younger dragons around, to say nothing of the desert dryads and their followers. Their battle would devastate the landscape. A single errant blow could wreak havoc.

For a moment, Quakeclaw looked as if he might lunge forward, but as his gaze drifted over the others, the terrible wrath within him banked ever so slightly. "You are right. Not here. But if not here, then where?" Fissures spread across the desert as his jaw clenched. "And do not even think of delaying our contest. I will not be denied."

"I know a place," Regal Flame said. "One suitable for your battle." She turned, embers trailing in her wake. "Follow me."

Doomwing and Quakeclaw shared a glance. He could feel the other dragon's hostility, and he knew he was radiating no small amount of it himself. However, both of them honoured the old ways. This challenge would be fought properly, which meant there would be no violence until the challenge had truly begun. Turning his back, Doomwing followed Regal Flame with Quakeclaw close behind. The other primordial dragons followed too, and those who had not been present when Quakeclaw arrived joined them as they flew. Ashheart said nothing when Doomwing passed him, but his friend's toothy smile spoke volumes.

The other dragons stayed behind. As much as they might wish to witness the battle, they knew better than to put themselves in harm's way. Even Firetail, the most loyal of Regal Flame's followers, did not accompany them. Doomwing and Quakeclaw were not like Soulseeker. A stray hit from either of them could easily prove fatal.

Regal Flame set a swift but measured pace. It was a courtesy to Quakeclaw. Doomwing might be able to match her speed, but the chthonic dragon could not, and she was not so crass as to shame a dragon who had come to declare his challenge openly, as opposed to plotting and skulking in the dark.

As they flew, Doomwing took careful note of the landscape beneath them. The desert was giving way to something else, something strangely familiar, and a growing sense of unease filled him. The rusty desert sands gave way to a desert of bleached white that was utterly devoid of life. At the centre of the desolation was a titanic skeleton with an equally huge spear driven through the ribcage.

"What is this place?" Quakeclaw rumbled. "This was not here the last time I visited your domain."

Doomwing was curious as well. "I do not recognise it either." His eyes narrowed. "But those bones… they belong to a titan."

"Yes," Regal Flame replied. "They do."

Titans were the greatest of giants, and the mightiest of them were comparable in both size and power to dragons of the Fourth Awakening. The very oldest were beings that even Doomwing would need to take seriously in a fight although they had seldom given him cause to muster his flame. For the most part, they were content to rule over their lesser kin, and they kept closely to their own domains, only venturing out when they needed things they could not obtain in their own territories.

Unlike dragons, titans often wielded weapons in battle – great spears, swords, axes, and the like that were every bit as large as they were. Indeed, the spear that had been driven in between two of the titan's ribs was roughly a mile long. A cursory examination suggested that its surface had once been covered in mystical inscriptions, and Doomwing could sense the lingering power of ancient runes. However, the spear was but a shadow of its former self. It had been subjected to fire so hot that it was now only a spear in name. In truth, it was closer to a half-melted staff. Doomwing knew of only one dragon still living whose fire could do that to a weapon of such quality.

"You slew this titan yourself," Doomwing said to Regal Flame.

She bared her teeth. "I did." Her gaze grew distant. "It was during the Sixth Catastrophe. That… fox's machinations drove the titan mad. He attacked his own people, slaying many of them and forcing the others to flee. They came to me, begging for aid. I had hoped to restrain him, but the Sixth Catastrophe's magic was fouler than I had anticipated." Regal Flame hissed. "I know not how she obtained it, but she knew the sorcery wielded by the Fourth Catastrophe."

Doomwing growled. "I slew all but one who knew his darkest arts." And Doomwing would bet his life that Marcus had never shared the darkest of his father's magics with anyone.

"The Deep Dreaming," Dreamsong murmured. "Such mighty magic leaves… echoes there. She may have been able to learn it there."

Fire kindled briefly in Regal Flame's jaws. "She cast a terrible magic upon the titan. Before she cursed him, he was a stellar titan, blessed by the stars themselves. Perhaps that would explain how she drove him so mad. The Fifth Catastrophe… in any case, the magic she wove turned him into a blight titan."

Oblivioncaller eyed the desolation around them and shook his head. "That would explain why this area resembles the heart of my domain."

"Indeed." Regal Flame cast a pitying glance upon the titan's bones. "The Sixth Catastrophe wanted him to slaughter his kinsmen before invading my territory and unleashing the blight within him. Had he succeeded, he would have scoured my lands. Anyone below a Third Awakening would have been killed, and the land itself would have been poisoned for millennia. When I realised her intentions, I tried to restrain the titan and bring him back to his right mind. It was futile. He was already too far gone. Worse, empowered by the blight growing within him, he shrugged off blows that should have crippled him. In the end, I had no choice but to pin him in place with his own spear and then burn him until not even the foul magic within him could sustain him. Still… there was a price to be paid."

"A dark fate," Doomwing said. "And a wretched death."

Quakeclaw surveyed the vast, barren emptiness around them. "But a suitable battlefield."

"Agreed." Doomwing motioned for the others to retreat. "Should any of our attacks threaten to spill out of this wasteland, I trust you to prevent any collateral damage."

"We will see to it," Fractal Reign replied. "Do not hold back on our account, either of you."

Doomwing turned back to Quakeclaw. "You know the old ways, and you honour them."

"I do."

"Then state your challenge."

Quakeclaw flared his wings, and the great wellspring of power within him surged to life. The earth shook, and chasms tore the wasteland asunder. Clouds of sand filled the air, and great, jagged slabs of rock ripped free of the ground. Fire crackled in his jaws, and his eyes glittered like diamonds. "I am the one who commands the earth, the stone, and the rock. I am the one who raises mountains and carves out valleys. When I speak, the world trembles. When I roar, the world splits. I am Quakeclaw, and I have come to challenge you."

Doomwing could have boasted too. He had many titles, and he had accomplished many great deeds. But what need had he for boasts or titles when his name alone was boast and title enough? "I am Doomwing, and I accept your challenge."

The moment he voiced his acceptance, Quakeclaw attacked. Doomwing had expected nothing less. Part of him had been worried that Quakeclaw's Age of isolation might have dulled his edge, but the other dragon did not disappoint him. For all that Quakeclaw was not the swiftest in the air or on the ground, his earth magic had always fast, fast enough to make up for his relative slowness elsewhere.

The ground below them erupted. Huge spikes of rock and stone lanced upward, enhanced by ancient runes of piercing, pulverising, and slashing. The smallest spike was almost a third Doomwing's size whilst the largest was even bigger than he was. A glancing blow would inflict horrific damage while a full-blooded strike could well end the fight. At the same time, the clouds of sand swirling through the air rushed toward Doomwing. Woven into each grain was magic meant to slow him down, to bind and wrap and trap. But even these two sets of attacks were nothing more than a mere distraction. The true attack would come from Quakeclaw himself, the dragon soaring upward, his huge form hidden by the titanic mass of sand now filling the sky.

Quakeclaw's magic was not particularly versatile. Indeed, even Ashheart had a broader magical repertoire. But the magic Quakeclaw knew, he had always made sure to master, and his entire arsenal had been developed to shore up his weaknesses and enhance his strengths. Doomwing had always admired that, even if he and Quakeclaw had never been on particularly good terms.

The approaching sandstorms intensified, and Doomwing's lips curled as the crack-boom of thunder filled the air. Lightning flashed within the clouds of sand, and Quakeclaw breathed more ancient runes into them – runes of paralysis, stunning, and shocking. Doomwing bared his teeth. This was new… and impressive.

Quakeclaw had decent straight line speed in the air but poor agility. However, his fighting power on the ground was overwhelming. Thus much of his magic was designed to either trap his opponents or force them onto the ground. Avoiding the sandstorms – which were already dozens of miles in diameter – would be difficult for even someone with Doomwing's aerial agility, and if he tried to evade the spikes of rock, then Quakeclaw would detonate them, filling the air with shrapnel enhanced with ancient runes and Quakeclaw's control over rock and stone.

Doomwing would be caught in the air, wounded and slowed, if not outright crippled. That was when Quakeclaw's true attack would arrive – an aerial tackle unlike any other. Using his immense size combined with his magic, Quakeclaw would turn himself into the equivalent of a meteor, diving down to strike his opponent with overwhelming force. Doomwing had seen the aptly named Meteor Dive before, and he was under no illusions as to what would happen if it hit him. He would undoubtedly lose the fight, and he could easily lose his life as well.

Quakeclaw had truly chosen an impressive strategy, but that did not mean it was unbeatable.

The key to Quakeclaw's strategy was to pin Doomwing in place by attacking from all directions, thereby allowing him to land a blow of overwhelming power. What Doomwing needed was a defence that could guard against attacks from all directions. Of course, simply putting up a barrier would be foolish. Even if he could create a barrier strong enough to fend off the sand and the spikes, he did not have nearly enough time to put up a barrier capable of withstanding Quakeclaw's Meteor Dive.

But there was still a way.

Doomwing had won most of his battles with magic, but he was, first and foremost, a nova dragon – and the oldest of all his powers was telekinesis. A simple omni-directional push could not possibly hope to repel all of Quakeclaw's attacks. Such an… unfocused and generalised defence would be overpowered by the sheer force behind the sand and the spikes. Instead, he needed something finer, something that could focus his telekinesis more keenly.

Every shard of rock. Every grain of sand. All of it. He had to individually grasp each and every one of them with his telekinesis. Only then would he be able to focus his power enough to repel them. At the same time, he needed to use his own magic, to weave ancient runes of nullification and dispersal into his telekinesis. It should have been an impossible task, and it would have been – for anyone else.

But Doomwing had honed his telekinesis to the point of madness. Indeed, there had been times when he truly had felt as though he were going mad. Only the memories of his battles against the Catastrophes had kept him going, only the knowledge that if he was found lacking even once, then he – and likely the world – would perish. If he was going to die, then it would be with every possible weapon in his arsenal perfected as much as possible. He would not die wondering if he could have done more. He would die knowing that everything he could do, every weapon he could possibly bring to bear had been utilised.

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And so Doomwing grasped every grain of sand and every shard of rock – and then he pushed them away, his telekinesis augmented by ancient runes of nullification and dispersal. The eerie darkness that enveloped the land only moments ago cleared as the sandstorms were cast back and the mountain-sized slabs of rock were tossed aside. Now, only the open sky remained above him – the open sky and Quakeclaw.

"Doomwing!"

Quakeclaw hurtled down from the sky like the fist of an angry god. Magic trailed in his wake as he moved at a speed far beyond what he would normally be able to attain.

Doomwing could have dodged. It would have been the smart thing to do. But flame surged through his veins, and his magic sang. He wrapped himself in his telekinesis, layered as many protective spells onto himself as he could, and then he heaved himself upward to meet Quakeclaw head on.

Regal Flame bit back a wince as Doomwing chose to meet Quakeclaw head on rather than dodge. Doomwing normally fought much more thoughtfully. To meet Quakeclaw head on like this… his anger must have gotten the better of him. Or perhaps it was simple stubbornness. Doomwing might be amongst the wisest of them, but he had his own unique brand of stubbornness.

The pair met, and a shockwave shook the sky and sent waves of sand billowing across the land below. The handful of clouds above them vanished, and the currents of magic trembled. Sparks flew and then great geysers of light and radiance spilled outward as the protective magics around Doomwing shattered. Quakeclaw roared in triumph, but Doomwing's magics had not been in vain. They had broken, but they had slowed Quakeclaw's dive, and now Doomwing called upon his telekinesis, the very air singing as he used every last ounce of his physical strength, his magical might, and his telekinesis to grind their descent to a halt.

For a long moment, Doomwing and Quakeclaw were still, and Regal Flame could see the disbelief in Quakeclaw's eyes and the savage satisfaction in Doomwing's. Blood trickled from Doomwing's lips, and more blood flowed from countless wounds upon his body. The impact from Quakeclaw's Meteor Dive had torn muscles, shattered scales, and broken bones, but Doomwing had weathered it. Quakelaw lunged forward, claws and teeth at the ready, but Doomwing was faster, if only just. Doomwing turned, rolling Quakeclaw beneath him, and then –

BOOM.

A telekinetic hammer blow aided by ancient runes sent Quakeclaw thundering out of the sky and into the ground below. He struck the ground hard enough to crater it, and the ground shook so violently it could have been mistaken for an earthquake. An instant later, rock and stone shot up at Doomwing, but Doomwing was ready, and this was not an attack on the same scale as the one that had started the battle.

Rifts in space tore open, swallowing the incoming projectiles and spitting them out elsewhere. In the distance, colossal explosions shattered the landscape. Doomwing struck again, telekinetic strikes falling with mountain-splitting force. Quakeclaw snarled, coughed up blood, and then thrashed his body. The sky cracked – gravity magic. Doomwing began to descend, dragged down, and Quakeclaw howled. Gigantic earthen copies of the chthonic dragon formed and rushed toward Doomwing as the nova dragon tore the gravity magic apart.

The plan was obvious: use the clones to box Doomwing in and drag him down, so Quakeclaw could land one of the devastating blows he was known for. Again, Doomwing did not retreat. Magic formed, faster than even Regal Flame thought possible, spells beyond the Fifteenth Order melding with each other and runes to birth projectiles of shattering force and unwavering accuracy.

The copies came apart in showers of debris, but Quakeclaw was a master of his craft. The fragments began to orbit Doomwing, spinning around him faster and faster. It was a magical formation, one meant to drain Doomwing's strength into the land around them, but Doomwing's control was impeccable. The magic that drained into the land rushed back to him, and more bolts of power lanced out, shattering the formation. But Quakeclaw had bought himself enough time to close in again.

There was another sky-shaking boom as the pair collided. Rather than try to escape, Doomwing twisted, slithering almost like a snake as he evaded Quakeclaw's grasp and retaliated with claws enhanced by telekinesis, runes, and magic. Deep furrows opened up along Quakeclaw's body before a tail swipe sent Doomwing spinning away. It was a glancing blow, but the power behind it was such that Doomwing's smile was again bloody as he righted himself in the air.

"I could have fled into the sky and beaten you from afar. Instead, I am fighting the battle on your terms, and still, you cannot win." Doomwing bared his teeth. "What will you do now, Quakeclaw?"

Rather than seek the sky, Quakeclaw dove deep in the earth. The ground shook, and once again spears of rock and stone lanced upward. But now, there were even more of them than before, and the power and strength behind each attack was on an entirely different level. Held in the embrace of the world, Quakeclaw's power was at its peak.

Doomwing soared upward, twisting, rolling, and turning as he wove through the seemingly endless stream of projectiles. Clouds of sand tried to box him in, but he was too fast, too nimble to be pinned down. Yet he was not content to simply dodge. Around him magic flared to life. It was alchemy of the highest order, and Regal Flame could only give a rueful smile. Only the very greatest alchemists would have been able to match the quality of Doomwing's alchemy, but none of them could have matched his speed nor could they have pulled it off in the heat of battle, and against a primordial dragon no less.

Doomwing was crafting multiple spears out of a substance that Regal Flame could not name but which she could tell was designed to hold runes, even the most powerful of ancient runes, for a time. While continuing to evade Quakeclaw's barrage, Doomwing used his telekinesis to inscribe marks of power upon them – and then he flung then down into the ground.

The spears… they had not been throw at random. They formed the cardinal points of a grand magical formation, and Doomwing bared his teeth in another savage smile before he clenched his claws and flexed his magic.

What followed was a colossal explosion – miles upon miles of rock vaporised in an instant. Quakeclaw was not forced out of the ground. Instead, the ground he had been in had ceased to exist. Doomwing gestured again, and the spears flew toward Quakeclaw. The chthonic dragon howled, seemingly unbothered by the mass of wounds that now covered his body, and a great cloud of sand spewed from his mouth. Lightning crackled within the cloud, and the sand moved so fast it would have torn the flesh off a normal dragon's bones within seconds. The spears passed through the attack, runes of protection flaring to life along them, but rather than strike at Quakeclaw, they thumped into the ground around him.

And then Doomwing began to speak.

"An incantation?" Regal Flame's eyes widened. "It has been more than an Age since I last heard him use one in battle…"

Incantations were another way of controlling magic. Doomwing rarely ever used them because his control was already unbelievably good. So why would he use an incantation now?

Oh.

The spears were again the focal points of a grand magical formation, but this one was even more complex than the one he'd used before. The sheer number of spells he was weaving together, the runes, the alchemy… the incantation was necessary because even he couldn't unite all the disparate forms of magic without using one.

To her dismay, the incantation was almost completely static to her ears. It was a phenomenon similar to what occurred with runes. That meant the magic he was weaving was so far above what she herself was capable of that her soul could make little sense of it. Perhaps the only one who could…

Not far off, Fractal Reign had gone completely still. The air around her shone with the light of dozens of analytical and scrying magics. Beside her, Stormbringer opened her mouth to ask a question, but Fractal Reign simply snarled and held up one claw, every iota of her being devoted to the incantation leaving Doomwing's lips.

Even if Regal Flame could not comprehend the incantation, she knew exactly when Doomwing's magic took effect. The currents of magic in the earth roared – but not at Quakeclaw's behest. Instead, they bent to Doomwing's will. Glowing bands of ineffable light snapped into place around Quakeclaw, binding him to the ground.

"Do you think this will hold me?" Quakeclaw roared. "The earth heeds my call, Doomwing!"

"And magic heeds mine," Doomwing replied. "You are strong, Quakeclaw, but can you overpower all the currents of magic that flow through the land?"

Regal Flame gasped, and she immediately used magic to enhance her vision of the currents of magic that flowed through the land. Doomwing was not lying. Even as Quakeclaw raged and fought, the magic around him tightened its grasp. Doomwing hadn't bound Quakeclaw with a spell – he'd turned the very currents of magic themselves into the bindings used to hold Quakeclaw in place. And as powerful as Quakeclaw was, as strong as he'd grown, he would not able to wrench himself free of such powerful bonds easily.

And Doomwing was not about to let this opportunity slip.

He gestured to the sky, and the currents of magic in the sky answered. They surged down, a blow greater than any Doomwing had thrown so far. The strike fell – and the entire wasteland shuddered. Mountains were heaved up, and valleys were hollowed out. The bonds around Quakeclaw shattered, and the spears disintegrated. The chthonic dragon roared, long and loud, and then toppled back unconscious.

It was a testament to his might that he roused himself less than a minute later, yet that brief loss of consciousness spelled the end of the challenge. He knew, as did they all, what Doomwing could have done in that brief interval.

For his part, Doomwing merely stayed aloft, blood trickling from his wounds, one arm hanging limply from his shoulder and one leg twisted at an awkward angle. Regal Flame frowned. How had she missed those injuries?

"Telekinesis," Fractal Reign murmured. "He used it on his own body to conceal his injuries and to ensure he could continue using gestures to control his magic."

"You have won," Quakeclaw growled, the words wrenched from his lips. "I have lost."

Doomwing finally allowed himself to land. "You think I have forgotten your brother's sacrifice, or perhaps that I do not honour it." He began to speak, listing off names, and Chasmfang's was last of all. "Those are the ones who were with him when he fell. I remember your brother, Quakeclaw. I remember them all. And I honour them all. If you disagree, then seek out the monument commemorating those who gave their lives to defeat the Fifth Catastrophe. See who is granted the highest place of honour, whose name comes first amongst those who have fallen."

"…" Quakeclaw was silent, but his eyes were keen.

"I will not tell you not to grieve, for there are those who have been dead for Ages that I still mourn. But he did not leave you with nothing. Hate me if you must. That is your right. But do not forget those he left behind. Love them as he would have loved them."

"You are a hypocrite," Quakeclaw growled, but much of the heat had gone from his words. "You should heed your own advice."

Doomwing's lips curled, and he turned and took to the air once more. "If you hate me so much, then do not repeat my mistakes."

Regal Flame watched him go and then cleared her throat. "The challenge is ended. Let us return." Her eyes narrowed as she sensed the sudden dispersal of communication magic. She rounded on Stormbringer with a snarl. "What did you do?"

The tempest dragon shrugged. "I saved us all a lot of trouble. The youngsters would have pestered us to death about this battle. And this way, the next time some young idiot thinks of picking a fight with Doomwing, they'll know better than to try." She glanced at Fractal Reign. "And, hey, if I wasn't supposed to share our view of this battle with anyone, then she should have stopped me."

Fractal Reign met Regal Flame's gaze evenly. "She isn't wrong."

"Do you need healing?" Paragonmirror asked Quakeclaw.

The chthonic dragon growled and then gestured vaguely toward Doomwing. "He's flying back on his own. I can do the same." With a groan, he heaved himself up into the air. "However, I might be a little slower."

"A little?" Paragonmirror sighed. "Just let me heal you. If you go back looking like this, your family will be upset." Her mirror-like appearance gave way to white scales.

"And Doomwing?" he growled.

"He knows plenty of healing magic," Paragonmirror said before she nodded at Regal Flame. "But it might be better to have someone else help him with that."

In the distance, Doomwing wobbled slightly in the air.

"Hah." Quakeclaw scoffed. "I knew he was more injured than he let on."

Regal Flame scowled. "Enough. The challenge is over." And then she raced toward Doomwing. That pride of his. It was equal parts alluring and infuriating.