I am the steel no enemy can shatter.
The earth trembles beneath the force of the attack, the sky darkly ominous as the force field surrounding them flashes in resistance to each repeated assault. With only a single glance at each other, Grumblesnakes and Shannisoran turn and flee. As they cross the moat, the gray stallion turns briefly to release the covering containing the acidic cloud of mist. His eyes shift quickly to the distant barrier, unable to resist checking on how their defenses fare. As he watches, the shield fails, allowing a flood of fairies to enter. Screams rise from those unfortunate souls who have already tasted the horror of their defenses, but the numbers are so great they simply overwhelm the now seemingly meager obstacles he and Grumblesnakes had installed.
Turning, Shan bursts into a gallop, activating traps as he passes, though they now seem so paltry in comparison to the forces currently banging on their doorstep. Grumblesnakes is growing weary, having spent so much of his energy and magical resources on the defenses that currently hold back the horde of fairies seeking entry into the fortress. Shan pauses only for a moment to allow Grumblesnakes to climb onto his back, but it is enough time for the sounds of their enemies making entry into the keep to reach him.
Bolting forward, Shan flashes through the twisting halls until they finally reach the inner sanctum with the sound of angry creatures echoing far too closely behind them. As the doors slam shut behind them, Grumblesnakes slides off Shan, reaching out to activate the wards. This act drains the very last of his power, leaving him nothing more than a hollow shell of his former self.
As Shan turns to him, the little man who had become such a great friend to him reaches up to lay a hand upon his cheek. He speaks in a soft tone, his words sending a chill along Shan’s spine. If this man does not stand a chance against such creatures, how could he possibly hope to?
The slurred voice that sounds from a darkened corner causes Shan to start. Whipping around, his gaze lands upon a vaguely familiar face emerging from the shadows. He remembers seeing this man occasionally, helping cast spells and fortify their defenses. He appears to be just as drained as Grumblesnakes unfortunately.
Which means it is up to Shannisoran now.
It is a task he is not entirely certain he has strength enough for. But, for Grumblesnakes, he would try.
And, if necessary, he would die.
Moments later the sounds of attack on the room’s defenses echo clearly through the chamber. They had reached them so quickly. The sound of torment is clear, but still they continue, refusing to relinquish their revenge. Shan steps forward, squaring his stance as he prepares for battle.
Seconds later, the door bursts open. Six small creatures (so very similar to Grumblesnakes) enter the room cautiously, glancing around them warily. All six bear obvious signs of injury, all clearly weary from their fight with the fortress’ defenses. Behind them the bodies of several other fairies still burn while several more lie with blood leaking from their faces.
As Shan places himself firmly between Grumblesnakes and his enemies, his hard features settle into unforgiving lines. ”If you want him, you shall have to go through me,” he grits out, his tone as cold as newly driven snow.
The foremost fairy grins at that, amusement and just a hint of cruelty suffusing his features. ”Easily done,” he responds lightly before launching a conjured ball of magical flame at Shan.
With barely a thought, Shan’s skin ripples, turning to the fire-resistant scales of the dragon. He braces himself as the flames roll over skin, heating him to a nearly unbearable point. But the scales do their job, leaving him relatively unscathed. He does notice however, the sudden drain to his power with the use of it.
It seems he would need to be wise in the use of his magic.
So he leaves the scales as they are, instead choosing to add fangs and wicked talons to his ensemble. The diminishing of his power is immediately notable. But with the battle upon them, Shan cannot allow fear to hold sway. Instead he launches for the rather surprised looking fairy, sharpened teeth bared.
His opponent’s hands come up, but not quickly enough. Shan is upon him, teeth seeking (and finding) flesh. The taste of hot, coppery blood fills his mouth as he tears muscle from bone, ending the terrible little creature almost as easily as breathing. His dying squeals are music to his ears, giving him a boost of confidence sorely needed.
The other fairies of course take exception to the slaughter of their brother in arms, using his distraction to launch attacks of their own at him. A burst of radiant white light shoves him sideways, causing him slam into the far wall. His teeth jangling roughly together, Shan growls (a surprising sound coming from such an equine throat), shaking off the pain as he had learned to in Grumblesnakes earlier trials. He sends out a blast of his own, an invisible, concussive force meant to break bones. Two fairies slam against the far wall, shrieking in agony, while the remaining three manage to throw up a barrier in time to deflect Shan’s magic.
The once gray stallion is forced to lock his knees then, hiding the tremble that suddenly threatens as his strength is drained yet more. Pushing forward, Shan steps away from the wall just in time to avoid a large, deadly shaft that suddenly erupts from its surface. He is not so lucky with the second spear, which appears near his feet and bursts up into his shoulder. He grunts in pain as he leaps away, though blood streams freely from the wound.
As more shafts erupt around him, Shan swiftly forces wings to form before he launches upwards towards the ceiling. For a moment, he fears he will not be able to maintain his flight due to his sudden weakness, but fortunately his wings hold and he reaches the ceiling.
He does not hesitate as he turns and dives back down, aiming for the unfortunate fairy who had initiated the most recent attack against him. He slams into her, tucking into roll as he tears into her with tooth and claw. In mere moments she is nothing more than a crumpled puddle of blood and bone. He is finding he is becoming more vicious and animalistic with each passing moment, thought and reason giving way to the beast of war that has always resided within him. And he does not even currently have the presence of mind to wonder at the horror of the monster he has become.
For Grumblesnakes, he has become a monster so terrible he would willingly take on any foe, no matter how powerful. And he does not even realize it.
Unexpectedly the temperature in the room begins to drop. As the two remaining fairies team up to take him on, Shan struggles to his feet, ice shattering from his skin as he does so. He can feel the deep, terrible chill settling into his skin, his very bones, as he struggles to draw upon his magic. Finally a fire comes, but it is terribly slow and sluggish, a whisper of flame against a too powerful enemy.
Shan concentrates the heat, forcing it towards the two remaining imps, willing it to do something. Anything. But the wall of ice that suddenly sprouts between them is too powerful, too cold. And Shan… he does not have the strength.
So he uses the only tool left to him: his body. He launches forward, favoring his injured shoulder as he slams into that wall of ice. It shatters around him, the shards slicing unexpectedly into his skin, causing blood to trickle and freeze upon scales chilled by an unnatural winter. Fortunately his momentum carries him forward, even if his strength does not.
He uses the surprise of his attack to snatch at one of his remaining two enemies. His claws drag at her, forcing her with him as he stumbles forward, massive frame crushing her smaller one as he lands upon her in a bone jarring tumble. To be sure of her death however, he tears at her throat with blood-stained fangs.
And then there is only one left. One final enemy for him to contend with.
He is exhausted, but so is his opponent. Slowly, painfully, Shan lurches to his feet. Turning, he faces the last little man. No certainty of victory lies within his breast, only a pitiful fatigue that threatens to overcome even his intense determination. And, not for the first time, he wonders if he actually has what it takes to win this fight.
Shannisoran