A Night of Dragon Wings - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,65

lavender scales flashing between the rotten beasts. She blew fire, flaming two.

He shot toward her. They soared higher. They flew back to back, blowing fire in every direction. The nephilim screeched and surrounded them. One rose from below, and Bayrin knocked it aside with his tail. Another slammed against them from above, and claws tore at Bayrin's back. He roared and gored the beast with his horns.

"Piri, follow me!" he shouted. "I'm breaking through."

With a great roar, he shot forward, claws slashing and fire blazing. A nephil clawed his flank, and he howled. He barreled through them, revealing the western horizon, and shot forward. Teeth bit him. More claws cut him. He kept flying, screaming and blowing his fire.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Piri flying beside him. Behind them, a hundred nephilim screamed and followed.

Clear cries bugled ahead.

Bayrin looked back to the west, and his breath left him.

Beautiful, he thought. Tears came to his eyes. Stars, it's beautiful.

Over the forest flew a horde of salvanae, true dragons of the west. They had no human forms like Vir Requis; they lived feral in the woods and mountains, wise and ancient beings. They had no limbs or wings; they coiled upon the air like serpents upon water, a hundred feet long. Scales shimmered and chinked across them. Their horns were long and bright, and their beards and mustaches fluttered as they flew. Their eyes were like crystal balls, spinning and glowing and topped with long white lashes. A thousand or more flew there, a tapestry woven of silver and gold. As they charged eastward upon the wind, they bugled their cries again, sounding like trumpets of silver from castle towers.

"Bloody stars, the cavalry's arrived!" Bayrin shouted.

He shot toward them, Piri at his side.

Behind them, the nephilim screeched to the sky. The earth shook below. Trees shattered. A boulder cracked. Bayrin screamed with the pain; the sound thudded against him and left his ears ringing.

The salvanae ahead trumpeted again, and this time, their voices pealed with rage. They stormed forward, serpentine bodies undulating upon the wind, beards fluttering. The nephilim screamed, beat their tattered wings, and reached out their claws. The two armies drove toward each other over the toppled forest.

"Up, Piri!" Bayrin shouted.

He soared in a straight line, teeth grinding. Air beat his face. His head spun. Darkness spread across his eyes. Piri flew at his side, growling.

Screams exploded below them as the armies clashed.

Bayrin spun in the air and swooped. Below him, the salvanae were trumpeting their cries. Lighting shot from their maws to slam into nephilim. The beasts burned and screamed. Their claws tore into the salvanae. Scales showered like spilling jewels, and the blood of true dragons rained.

Bayrin blew his fire, drenching a nephil below him. Piri swooped at his side, and her own fire took out another beast.

The sky blazed with battle. Lightning bolts flew everywhere. Fire blazed. The bodies of salvanae and nephilim fell around them, and the forests below caught flame. One nephil shot forward, and its maw opened so wide Bayrin thought its head would split in two. It drove teeth into Piri's shoulder, and she cried out; suddenly she sounded so young to Bayrin, a mere girl.

He roared and drove forward. He leaped onto the nephil, bit down, and tore into its neck. Its scales cut his mouth. Its rotten flesh oozed. He spat out a chunk and bit down again, and the nephil shrieked, releasing Piri. She dipped in the sky, blood streaming down her shoulder.

The nephil turned toward Bayrin, half its neck missing. Black blood spurted from it, and it laughed, a bubbling laughter full of dragon blood. Its eyes were mad, burning with sickly white light.

"Mortal child," it hissed through its laughter. "You do not know what you face. Legion rises! The Fallen rise! Your souls will scream in our darkness. We—"

Bayrin bathed the creature with flame.

It shrieked and fell. When its body hit the forest, it cracked open like a rotten fruit.

Bayrin dived and flew toward Piri. She was wobbling, still aflight but barely higher than the trees. Blood coated her shoulder. He nudged her with his wing, and she gave him a weary smile.

"You saved me, Bayrin."

He looked above him, waiting for nephilim to swoop. He found only salvanae above, and when he looked over the forest, he saw bodies everywhere, two hundred or more; about half of them were the nephilim, their corpses leaking pus and blood. The rest were golden and silver salvanae, the light