"Certainly, other forms of magic have more dire uses, but black magic makes me question the nature of the gods. It as a force that exists only to end life. Why should such a thing exist?"

Darheed Kurahaga, Leontide philosopher

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“Wha?” Marg glared up at me.

“Oh, just… let me ride with you.” I rolled off of Shiro and his ears finally went out of their angry flattened posture. Marg looked annoyed, but he caught me and placed me on his shoulders.

“We are going to split up! Keep it confused!” Kelk yelled. “Draw him to the swamp!”

“WHA!?” Marg gave Kelk a baffled look.

“Just listen to him, it’s the only way everybody gets out alive!” I prodded the ogre with my claws, and he clenched his fists, but nodded.

The dragon’s head appeared, rising above the forest. I couldn’t see his eyes from this distance, but I knew he saw us. Marg’s back tensed beneath me in response to the pressure pouring off the behemoth. Its craggy jaws split again, that red glow signifying its world-shaking breath weapon. Marg bolted right, and I saw Shiro darting left out of the corner of my eye. The dragon froze in place for a moment, mouth hanging open. It began writhing this way and that, clearly uncertain about who to chase. Let it dither. We were making space.

Not enough, though. The dragon’s neck lowered, diving below the trees. I had no idea what it was doing until I heard a howl like the greatest of storms of crashing trees, and seemingly by pure instinct, Marg threw himself to the ground. A split-second later, the dragon’s head whipped by overhead, stone protrusions on each side acting as the largest hammer in the world and reducing trees to splinters. I looked up to see the forest cleared out in every direction, Ki’margarhara’s tail and neck curled after unleashing themselves through acres of forest. Bits of shattered trunks were impaled in its flesh, but it made no sign of further pain. Its anger at us had surpassed everything. Slowly, that mighty neck rose back up to its full height to survey the desolation it had made.

Swiftly, I did the same. It was maybe 20 feet to the clearing’s edge, but that was the opposite direction of the swamp. I spotted Shiro and Kelk on the dragon’s other side, getting to their own feet. And between us to my right, smoke was beginning to pour into the clearing. One of the fires was close. I only had one idea to survive, and I hated it.

“We need to get closer.” I told Marg.

“WHAAAAAA!?” This time he had enough of me. His hand reached over his shoulder and grabbed me by the ear, dragging me off.

“Ow ow ow! Just listen, out here he’ll blow us up or hit us with his head again! Up close-” I was roughly chucked to the ground.

“You can. Uh had en’uff.” Marg backed off. The dragon’s attention was on Shiro and Kelk. I had both opportunity to approach and every reason to do so.

“Okay. Okay, that’s fair. I’m sorry Marg. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved. But I’m going to survive and keep my promise, okay?” I spoke brave words, but I could feel how pale my face was. I was so sick of this. Of throwing myself into danger to escape something worse. Of letting the griffon’s talons drag me away from the erupting volcano. Of jumping into the bear’s den to escape the puma. I stooped and let my claws find a stick as I closed in on Ki’margarhara.

Using dragon’s blood directly was dangerous. I knew that damn well. A mere drop had made me unconscious. But anything organic could channel magic just as well as my own flesh. That’s why Mal’oko had his staff. I just needed my own. The dragon loomed close, staring Kelk down. Its blood ran in rivulets, and I thrust the staff in. Black tendrils squirmed up the staff, inchworming their way towards my hand. What magic to use? I was afraid to tap into the elemental power of the dragons. The corrupting power of the blood might pass into me anyway if I used that. But merely amplifying my own magic would do nothing against something immune to illusions.

Only one choice then. I closed my eyes and concentrated. How did she do it? I remembered an old woman, silver hair going black when she called upon her power. That alien light, pulsing into the cuts and scrapes of a young boy whose disguise still bled red. She had told me that it kept wounds clean, but it could also kill.

I extended my will down the staff, channeling my magic through to the blood at the end. It bubbled in response, then began to melt into my new staff. I felt its power surround me, like the air was filled with lightning. Every hair on my body prickled straight up and I twitched with uncontrollable spasms. That was nothing compared to the mental rush. There was a roaring in my ears, and I felt like I was outside of my own body, spinning around it. It was maddening. No, it was madness. The chaos of the abyss, pulling at my body. How much worse would it be trying to channel it directly?

I grit my teeth and aimed the staff. Cast! Cast! Don’t let the power overwhelm you! My vision dimmed. I was looking now through an aura of black magic, wild and uncontrolled. I needed to grasp control or it would annihilate me. I put my off hand on the staff and with all my will, forced all the darkness into one spot at the end of the staff.

“Ki’margarhara! Look at me! I am the one who has made you bleed! I am your enemy!” I yelled and released the power.

It sounded like an entire city screaming in terror. The stream of power, the impossible light of darkness, was clearly visible even in the early night, and it struck true on the dragon’s shoulder. The bolt bent and twisted like lightning, funneling back along the staff, and I screamed. My own fingers twisted in the backlash and I lost my grip with my right, only my left keeping it held true. The dragon didn’t scream like before, but it lost its balance, its arm on my side seeming to lose all strength. When the spell sputtered out with a last bleak spark, the dragon was swaying, casting about in utter confusion.

The makeshift staff clattered to the ground. My left hand had lost all feeling, fingers dangling limp. Smoke was beginning to pour over me, and the dragon’s gaze came down at me. I wasn’t sure how something so small-minded felt rage, but it certainly did, so great I felt it in my bones. I had just injured it again. One enormous foot rose, higher and higher above me. My legs twitched, but carried me nowhere. My heart sank as the leg rose. But it never came down on me. A blur shot straight under the dragon, and suddenly I was yanked right off my feet. The dragon’s stomp landed far behind and another roar of anguish shook the world.

“You’ve done enough. It’s my turn.” Kelk said, dragging me aboard Shiro.

The unicorn wheeled about and charged for Ki’margarhara again. The dragon met our challenge with a raised foot, but Shiro changed directions at the last moment. The foot came down far away and the dragon staggered, not recovered from the black magic I had speared him with. It followed, but slower now, one leg dragging. Where before, the mountain was faster than us, now Shiro easily kept abreast.

Kelk sat backwards atop his steed, keeping an eye on the dragon. He wasn’t much less beaten down than I was, but his eyes were alive. His eyes were like glimmering shards of the crystalline dome, focused intently on the dragon’s face. The great crag that was Ki’margarhara’s mouth began to open again, and Kelk notched another arrow. One eye nearly closed from the strain on his broken rib, he pulled the bow back and again and loosed one more shot. Another arrow struck that little patch of black at the base of the fiend’s neck and it thrashed, spitting a fireball into the air instead of at us. It went rushing off somewhere while the dragon’s neck flopped about like a flag in a storm, smoke trailing from a volcanic maw.

I was beginning to have trouble staying awake as we entered the swamp, fading in and out. The dragon slowed and vanished from view, crashing along somewhere behind us. When I drifted off for the last time, the first splashes rang out.

I opened my eyes to darkness. My side still seared, but it was a more dull pain than before. I was able to sit up and saw myself shirtless, bandages wrapped under my ribs. We were back at the lake, resting atop the very island Marg had ambushed us on. Shiro and Kelk were just below me, watching the thrashing thing in the lake. Ki’margarhara, half underwater with his head still nearly as high as the towering cliff across the lake. It groaned and shrieked and struggled, but all of its massive bulk remained a stationary island.

“Looks like the mud finally got to him. He’s stuck.” Kelk turned to me with a weary grin. “Been keeping watch about an hour, and I don’t think he’s getting loose. Still, I’m not making camp within spitting distance.”

I looked out at the mighty beast. It was still thrashing after an hour? How fearsome must it have been when it first began to sink and realized it was trapped.

“Do you think it’ll die here?” The thought was oddly melancholy, for something so ancient to die so ignominiously.

“I don’t think we’re that lucky. He’ll probably wiggle free at some point. But hey, by then I don’t think he’ll remember us at all.” 

Indeed, already the dragon was beginning to lose interest in its struggle. It had taken a break to guzzle down algae-choked waters. Was there enough food to sustain it until it broke free? I saw its blood still spilling forth, painting dark water darker. Perhaps even if it died here, its legacy would live on in a lake of black blood, forever spawning lesser dragons. Ki’margarhara was truly like the greatest and most terrible of kings, leaving a stamp on the land that lasted long after their death. Its name was more fitting than those who gave it had thought.

“Good night, Emperor of the Mountain. I hope to never meet you again.” I waved to the mindlessly feeding king and limped away.