The Ballad Of A Semi-Benevolent Dragon
Chapter 62: The Dragons Speak

Regal Flame flew after Doomwing. It was a testament to the weariness he must have felt that she caught up to him without much effort. The wobble in his flight had vanished, and he had once again adopted his usual poise. However, she suspected that his improved appearance had more to do with his telekinesis and willpower than any miraculous recovery.

Willpower was a remarkable thing. It could let a determined dragon fight despite suffering what should have been crippling injuries, but there was always a price to be paid for pushing the body beyond its limits. She knew that very well, having pushed past her own limits multiple times. It simply wasn't possible to live as long as they had without being forced to surpass their own limitations. Only a coward could survive the Ages without pushing themselves, and such cowards seldom lasted long after meeting their first real challenge.

Soulseeker's fate could attest to that.

"I am fine." Doomwing did not deign to face her. Instead, he simply continued to fly toward the heart of her domain. "My injuries are trifling, hardly worth concerning yourself with."

"You have multiple broken bones, countless cuts, bruises, and scrapes, and you have dislocated one of your arms and one of your legs."

Doomwing turned and waved to her with both arms. "Clearly, you are mistaken."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Are you using your telekinesis to wave your dislocated arm around?" She would have called it madness, but she'd seen him do worse. At some point in the frantic struggle against the Exiled Star, he'd lost a limb. Rather than wasting time they did not have in the heat of battle re-attaching it, he'd launched the severed limb at the Exiled Star with his telekinesis before detonating all of the magic still within it. The impromptu attack hadn't inflicted any meaningful damage on their foe, but it had distracted the Exiled Star long enough for Doomwing to sear the wound shut and prepare a stronger attack.

Doomwing met her gaze evenly. "… no."

"Really?" Regal Flame bared her teeth. "Then why have you covered yourself in additional anti-scrying magic? Could it be that you don't want anyone to realise how injured you truly are?"

Doomwing's eyes flashed. "As I said, my wounds are trifling, hardly even worth calling injuries."

Regal Flame almost smiled.

Almost.

But she knew that showing her amusement would only wound his pride, and Doomwing had never been one to easily accept help, especially when his pride was wounded. It was better to appeal to his intellect, one of the few forces in the world that could overcome both his pride and his stubbornness.

"Quakeclaw has accepted healing from Paragonmirror. Will you return in worse condition than him? What will the younger dragons think?"

He growled. "Stormbringer saw fit to share her vision of the fight. Regardless of my appearance, none can doubt my victory."

"Perhaps, but appearances are not without importance." Regal Flame could read the subtle change in his expression and bearing. He was not convinced yet, but he wanted to be. After all, who enjoyed flying around with multiple injuries? "And think of the decrease in efficiency. There will be no further discussion today – the others and their followers need time to settle in – but you will not accomplish much tomorrow if you are still injured."

"I can heal myself later," he replied.

This time, she couldn't help but let a hint of her amusement show. The petulance in his reply let her know that she had him. He was simply being obstinate for the sake of it, not because he had any real objections. He must have noticed her mirth because he growled again, but there was no heat to it.

It reminded her of the times Mother Tree had scolded him for pushing himself too far. More than once, the dryad's followers had brought an exhausted Doomwing before her for healing and restoration. Mother Tree had counselled him to be more patient, but Doomwing had already sensed the treachery that awaited them at the claws and fangs of the cowardly older dragons who had hidden rather than face the Broken God. Only power could provide safety, or so he had believed at the time, never realising that Mother Tree herself would take action.

"You could," Regal Flame said. "But we both know that healing your own injuries tends to be less efficient and more prone to error."

Doomwing scowled, but that was all. He knew she was right. It was one of the very first lessons they'd learned when it came to healing magic, and it was a point that Dawnscale had stressed multiple times before her departure.

Finally, he spoke. "Very well." His golden eyes gleamed. "Do as you will. I am, after all, a guest in your domain."

"You will have to lower your magical defences," she said, not quite gently. "Otherwise, I won't be able to use healing magic on you."

His flight turned awkward for a split-second before he caught himself. "Yes," he murmured, gaze thoughtful. "I suppose I must."

Dragons had natural resistance toward the magic of others. Indeed, one of the greatest advantages that Fourth Awakening dragons had was their immense resistance to external magic, which typically allowed them to shrug off the magic of anyone below the Third Awakening. Primordial dragons had even greater magical resistance, and Doomwing's was considered outstanding even amongst them. The titanic magical reserves that all primordial dragons had also made it trivial to maintain magical defences at all times, and Doomwing was no different in that regard. If anything, his dedication to maintaining his magical defences bordered on paranoia.

There was a subtle shift in the air as Doomwing lowered his magical defences, so she could heal him. It was a sign of trust, and she understood very well how much it meant for him to leave himself vulnerable in this way. Under most circumstances, he would have gone to Ashheart for help, but the tectonic dragon's grasp of healing magic had never been particularly good. Oh, he was outstanding at magic that boosted his own healing and regenerative powers, but healing others was not an area he excelled in. Rather than healing people after they'd already been wounded, Ashheart was far better at taking those wounds on their behalf.

"See to the most serious injuries first," Doomwing rumbled. "And then work from there."

She laughed. "Doomwing, I sat through Mother Tree's lectures too. I know how to heal people." She could still remember her first, fumbling attempts, back when she'd been a mere hatchling. The unfortunate fish that Mother Tree had chosen for her to heal had exploded. To her credit the dryad hadn't laughed. Instead, she'd simply patted Regal Flame on the head and reminded her that there were still plenty of fish in the sea.

"I did not mean to imply otherwise," he replied.

It did not take Regal Flame long at all to deal with his wounds. In truth, Doomwing was right. He could very easily have healed them himself. Only his pride had prevented him from doing so in front of the others earlier. It was easier for him to accept her help, especially if she insisted, than for him to show weakness.

"You have improved," Doomwing said. The subtle labour was gone from his flight. Instead, he moved freely, no trace of his previous injuries remaining. "Your speed was impressive, as was your thoroughness."

Regal Flame sighed. "After Firetail was crippled, I devoted considerable time and effort to the healing arts. I wished to undo his injuries. Alas, I never developed the required level of skill. However, I was able to slow his decline and ease his pain."

"Your efforts were not wasted," Doomwing said. "Had you not improved and treated him consistently, he might not have survived long enough for us to restore him."

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Regal Flame smiled as Stormbringer raced past them, streaking through the air like a bolt of lightning. Doomwing snorted at the sheer audacity of the display, and his magic stirred briefly before stilling. She could tell that he was sorely tempted to lob a spell or two her way, but unless he truly put effort into it, the tempest dragon would be able to avoid any attacks he launched with ease. As she looped back and passed them again, Stormbringer gave Regal Flame a teasing smile. The inferno dragon glared back and then gathered her resolve.

"Doomwing –"

"I know what you wish to say. I should have known sooner, but…" Doomwing paused and looked away before turning back to face her. His golden eyes were sombre, and there were myriad emotions in them: grief, regret, sorrow, and something that looked almost like hope. He chuckled quietly, and there was no shortage of self-depreciation woven into the sound. "I… am not good at this sort of thing. I have not had many friends over the Ages, and their fates leave much to be desired. Of those I would truly call friend, save for other dragons, perhaps only Marcus remains. As for the others, time took some, others no longer wish to speak to me, and still others… either perished at my hand or as a result of my failings."

Regal Flame said nothing. Instead, she waited and let him speak, for his words did not seem to be addressed to her alone but also to those long departed, explanation and apology rolled into one. His grief, so often held back by his great, unshakeable resolve threatened to break its bonds. A lesser dragon's voice might have trembled, but Doomwing's remained steady, each word falling with the weight and accuracy of a smith's hammer beating upon an anvil.

"In my whole life, there have been two that I might have taken for a mate. One perished before her time… and it was only after her passing that I realised what might have been if I had been wiser or bolder or more observant. People speak often of words they regret saying, but it is the words I did not speak that I regret more." His lips curled. "Nothing cuts more deeply than to imagine what could have been."

Regal Flame understood that all too well. How many times had she wondered what could have been if her father had returned from his battle with the Broken God wounded but victorious. Or what could have been if Mother Tree had not turned against them. But she never let herself dwell on such dreams for long. If she did, she would drive herself mad.

"There was another later," Doomwing said. "But she left. She fled, and even if she were to return, I do not think I could ever trust her again as I once did. Trust is like a rope. Once broken, it can be mended, but it is never easy, and it is never quite the same." He took a deep, deep breath, and for a moment, his magic swept outward as if to hold catch the whole world in his grasp. "This world has taken much from me… but it has also given me everything I have. I would rather die than forsake it, and if I must die defending it, then so be it. I am here today because of the sacrifices of others. How, then, can I refuse when my turn comes to offer up my life? No. I will not make it easy. I will fight and claw and curse. But if I must choose between this world and my life, then I will make the choice that so many others made before me – the choice my parents made… and the choice your parents made too."

Regal Flame remained silent. The weight of Ages settled upon them.

"Only a fool would try a third time after loving twice and failing," Doomwing said.

Regal Flame's heart sank, but Doomwing pressed on.

"But… I have always been a fool." Doomwing laughed softly. "A wiser dragon would have hardened their heart long ago, and they would have been far poorer for it. A friend once told me that a broken heart can still be mended, but a hardened heart might as well be dead." He paused, lost in memory. "I called him a wise fool. He called me the same. It is only now that I realise how right we both were." He stared past her, seeing someone far removed in space and time. And then he was back, seeing only her. "I once asked Dion what the difference between existing and living was. I was too young and naïve to understand his answer then, but it has lingered with me ever since. Do you know what he said?"

Dion was a god who'd been Doomwing's friend long ago. Regal Flame had not known him well, but he had always struck her as cheerful and strangely wise despite his whimsical behaviour. Mother Tree had often spoken of his wisdom, and how although he was a lesser god, there were many gods who could have learned a thing or two from him. More than once she'd wondered if Mother Tree had loved him, for of all the gods, Dion had been the one to spend the most time around the dryad. Perhaps her father could have told her, but the thought had never occurred to her until she was older, and by then, her father and Dion were both gone, and Mother Tree would only speak of the dead god in passing.

Regal Flame shook her head.

"Existing means worrying about today. Living is about dreaming of tomorrow." Doomwing paused, searching for the right words. "I… cannot promise you tomorrow, not yet. But… give me time. I think… I think that soon, I might be ready to be a fool again." His voice softened. "I make no promises. It is better that we speak words of truth, however bitter they may be, than exchange sweet lies."

Regal Flame took a deep breath. This was not what she had dreamed of, but it was nevertheless far more than she had expected. "You speak the truth, but it is not bitter." She nodded. "If it is time you need, then I have plenty to give you."

He nodded back and then eased away, flying swiftly toward the heart of her domain. She let him go, turning his words over in her mind. He cared. If he did not, then he would have lied. But Doomwing, for all his faults, did not lie to those he loved. She had sought out Marcus during Doomwing's slumber, and the vampire had said as much to her.

"He hates lies," Marcus had said. "Perhaps that is why Kagami's betrayal stung so badly. It was bad enough that he did not see it, but for her to hide it in the first place… and at the end, he could have lied to Elerion. He could have told him that he would survive, that his empire would endure and that everything he had built would stand forever. But he loved Elerion, and so he told him the truth because he does not lie to those he loves."

Marcus had smiled then, and Regal Flame had not understood why. Now, though, she understood, and his words brought her comfort.

Stormbringer banked to fly beside her. "So…?"

Regal Flame growled and swiped at the other dragon with her tail. Stormbringer laughed and rolled away from the blow. "Time," Regal Flame said. "He asked for time… and he said not yet." She smiled faintly. "He also called himself a fool."

"The great Doomwing admitting he is a fool? It is love then." Stormbringer laughed. "And if he truly wished to refuse you, he would have done so. He respects you too much to give you false hope."

A bolt of magic crackled through the air, and Stormbringer dodged it without even looking as Fractal Reign drew level with them.

"You missed," Stormbringer said.

"You dodged. There's a difference." Fractal Reign nodded at Regal Flame. "Be patient. Doomwing usually takes some time to consider matters of importance. However, once his mind is made up, he acts swiftly and decisively. Twice now, he has not been able to choose. Let him choose this time."

"Is that my friend speaking or the seer?" Regal Flame asked.

Fractal Reign cast a sideways glance at Stormbringer who was waiting with bated breath. "Both."