In which a Dragon takes wing...
83
Trakaan Astranax, Stefan Blackmoon to many and Fafnir to even more, watched the halfbreed flee. Reginmus Winthrax, his hated brother, had chosen well, this one knew his limitations, if he'd been given the time to rule for longer he may have caused true harm, may have even learned how to do it without ever being targeted by the Blackmoon. It would not be so though, as he was still too foolish to know that the air was the true Dragon's domain and not for those that pretended.
He took wing, allowing the great winds of the storm to help him aloft, leaving the doomed colony swiftly behind leaving and seeing the tiny speck which had thought to challenge him up ahead.
He roared again, launching his threat along the winds far ahead of him and watched with grim satisfaction as the halfbreed turned his head to watch his pursuer.
He might have escaped him in this weather, might have out flown him if only because the winds and the snows made it ever more difficult to fly in them. He might have but he hadn't, instead he made the grave error many creatures of intelligence made and simply thought about it too much.
The halfbreed shifted to the side and dove down, aiming for the forest below, perhaps hoping to camouflage himself and vanish in it's seemingly protective cover.
The Blackmoon did not follow, instead he pumped his great wings harder, bringing himself higher and higher. His great serpentine body cut through the storm easily, his kind being the very masters of the elements, reaching above it and the clouds that fathered it momentarily.
Distance might have saved the halfbreed, for if he'd kept going the Blackmoon might not have been able to smell the tainted blood within the creature. Since he'd decided to hide instead, all Astranax needed was a moment of peace, a moment above the clouds and away from the churning chaos below to smell the taint which had infected him, overwhelmed him, all those centuries ago. Even this far above the Earth he was able to easily sense it and find his prey's exact location.
His wings spread, his body casting long shadows over the clouds.
The halfbreed was directly below him, hiding back in it's human form beneath three great trees which had grown wrapped around each other, cowering like a frightened rodent.
Now it was the dragon that dove, his wings tucked behind him, his neck outstretched, his target blatantly clear. Like a giant spear thrown down by an angry storm god, he dropped, his talons slowly spreading, his mouth opening, the fire escaping, singing the trees, the land and the poor hapless creature before him.
His body hit the puny creature like a cannon blast, utterly destroying it and every thing around it, then before he himself was crushed by the impact of his body slamming into the hard ice-packed earth, his great wings beat again, swerving his body up and away, back into the storm.
He let loose another great roar and dropped the pieces of his prey below, sprinkling them over Roanoke, knowing full well that the surviving Vampyrs, in their own manic flight, would see what awaited them.
Then he turned again, rising high, collecting his fire, feeling the great furnace build within. Up he flew, shattering the storm, breaking it, reminding it who was it's master all the while it built within him, his rage, his fury, his flame.
When it was sufficient, when the very elements had retreated, he plunged again, this time towards Roanoke. Some were already in the trees but most remained inside, cowering exactly as their leader had, too terrified to flee.
As he closed in, he spread his wings again, letting the winds buffet them, slowing his speed. When he was among the lights of the colony, the torches still burning within the human built structures, he spread those wings to their full span, letting the doomed see his size.
Then he brought hell itself upon the Children of Reginmus Winthrax.
End Part 83
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