Swift-River's powerful wings lifted her into the cobalt sky, triumph lighting her face. Her first flight as a half-dragon radiated joy. "This is freedom!" she called, laughter trailing her words. She pushed higher, the western mountains appearing as grey specks on the horizon.

  Zirien's face surfaced in Swift-River's thoughts. Campfire conversations. Training sessions. His fingers brushed hers, lingering just a heartbeat too long. When had the stoic Druid become more than a comrade?

  Swift-River smiled into the wind. Her recent dreams returned unbidden. His face drawing near, her heart racing. The memory alone made her scales flush warm despite the cool air. She'd carried this secret for months, never daring to speak it aloud.

  The blue expanse stretched endlessly before her, a perfect canvas for flight. Swift-River soared through peaceful clouds, each one a floating island of tranquility. Warm sunlight painted the land below in radiant hues.

  She climbed higher still, eager to test her newfound form. Misty tendrils brushed her copper scales, sending shivers along her spine. "Amazing!" Tranquility and exhilaration blended into something new. Zirien would appreciate this view. He would understand this boundless freedom his TeraCon form granted him.

  The clouds parted beneath her, revealing an unsettling sight below. Swift-River spotted clusters of zombis moving northward near the waters of Pristine Shallows. Their tattered clothes hung from skeletal frames, faces frozen in eternal agony.

  Stillness descended. Birds vanished. The wind died. Swift-River froze, scanning the treeline. Something was wrong. She couldn't see it yet, but she felt it.

  Something darted across her path. What was that? Swift-River's focus sharpened instantly.

  Pain erupted across her back as a crushing blow staggered her. Swift-River plummeted, her back and wings went numb. I have to stabilize! Panic surged through her as she fought against gravity, heart hammering while she scanned for her attacker.

  Swift-River gained some control and saw Ivory's wings skimming the lake's surface before ascending to search for her lost prey. Ancient malice burned in those hollow eye sockets. The white dragon moved with mechanical determination, yet something in her flight pattern suggested a deeper fury. I know that resistance. Swift-River recognized the signs from her own captivity. The way controlled beings moved when fighting invisible chains. This was no mere mindless undead. This was a soul bound against its will.

  She adjusted her wings toward a cloud. Her trembling hands took out Wyvern's Whisper from her belt pouch. Despite her fear, she nocked an arrow with steady fingers.

  Below, Ivory's bone-white form stood stark against the blue lake. Blood seeped beneath Swift-River's armor, sticking to her scales.

  "Why now?" she cried, pain lacing each word.

  Ivory circled back, skeletal wings slicing through the air with terrible efficiency. Frozen fangs gleamed with ancient fury as she prepared to strike again.

  Stay strong. Not today. Terror coursed through Swift-River, but she raised one hand, weaving healing magic. Warmth flowed through her damaged body, mending torn muscle and dulling the sharp edges of pain.

  The humidity rose suddenly around them. Water droplets formed on Swift-River's wings as tension mounted in the air. Two birds darted past her, fleeing the brewing storm as thunderclouds gathered like dark sentinels on the horizon.

  Swift-River's wings beat harder against the thickening air. Lightning split the sky as Ivory surged upward toward her.

  "Prepare to meet your end!" Swift-River's chest tightened as she raised her bow, steadying her grip despite her trembling claws.

  Ivory closed in, wings spread wide in deadly intent. Frost and decay erupted from her skeletal maw, necrotic energy shimmering in frigid waves as she drove forward with powerful wingbeats.

  Swift-River held firm despite sweat beading on her temple. "This is my sky." The air buzzed with energy as she released the arrow and banked sharply away.

  ***

  CRACK-BOOM!

  Ominous clouds darkened the horizon, thick rolling masses blotting out the sun. The wind howled through the darkened expanse. Two birds circled Ivory, then scattered in a blur of feathers. Ivory opened her jaws, unleashing her breath weapon. Frost mixed with necrotic energy that surged toward Swift-River. The blast struck her flank, causing her wings to falter momentarily. She dropped altitude, engulfed in ice and darkness.

  ***

  Pain erupted across her back as a crushing blow staggered her. Swift-River plummeted, her back and wings went numb. I have to stabilize! Panic surged through her as she fought against gravity, heart hammering while she scanned for her attacker.

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  Above her, storm clouds spiraled with unnatural speed. The air pressure dropped so suddenly that her ears popped. Zirien. The Druidic signature was unmistakable. He must have spotted Ivory circling high above the lake, stalking her prey like a carrion bird.

  Turrirr Fizztooth transformed mid-air as lightning flashed around him. His feathers tingled with magical energy, replaced by thick fur spread across broad shoulders. Talons morphed into clawed hands, wings folded into muscular arms. His beak reshaped into a canine snout as he landed on Ivory's back, claws digging into rotting scales. Rain splattered against his fur while thunder echoed his fierce growl.

  "No escape, Ivory!" Turrirr secured his grip as the storm raged around them. "Ya picked the wrong fight!" His clawed feet found purchase on Ivory's spine as he sprinted along her back. The stench of decay filled his nostrils.

  Amid the fury of Zirien's thunderstorm, Turrirr's paws glowed with emerald light. Wood spiraled from nothingness, twisting into a blackthorn cudgel. Metal push blades erupted from the striking end as Turrirr's muscles tensed, then swung.

  ***

  Swift-River clung desperately to Ivory's wing, death's stench filling her lungs. The tattered membrane rustled in the wind, holes revealing glimpses of the tumultuous sky beyond. Terror clawed at her throat as she fought to maintain her precarious position.

  "Get off me, foul carcass!" Swift-River snarled, struggling against the damp rot pressed against her scales. Wind howled past her ears, threatening to tear her from her handhold.

  Swift-River gathered her courage and slashed through the deteriorated wing with Serpent's Kiss. She aligned her own wings with Ivory's flight pattern, using the currents to stabilize herself amid the chaotic air.

  Only Zirien would conjure such a storm. Blood and sweat mingled on her skin. "Zirien, where are you?"

  Using her dagger as an anchor, Swift-River climbed higher. Her blood-slick hand shook with each movement, making the ascent agonizing. Ivory's icy breath still clung to her, sending cold waves through torn muscles with every strained motion.

  Scanning the chaos, Swift-River spotted Turrirr, his fur drenched by the downpour. Ivory's face contorted as Turrirr's cudgel crashed down again with brutal force. Blood mixed with rain as each strike tore through decayed scales. Turrirr's movements carried feral intensity, each blow aimed with deadly precision at Ivory's neck, carving through scale and bone.

  Ivory's body shuddered beneath Swift-River like a wounded beast. "Almost there," she said through gritted teeth. She spotted the damage her explosive arrow had inflicted. A smoking crater in Ivory's chest where embers still glowed despite the rain.

  Above, Zirien struck in his TeraCon form, powerful wings cutting through turbulent air. His hybrid body, part pterodactyl, part falcon, moved with practiced precision. His razor-sharp beak hammered the vulnerable joint where Ivory's wing met her body.

  Scales scattered into the storm winds. Lightning flashed, illuminating Zirien's formidable silhouette against the darkened sky as he exposed raw sinew beneath rotting flesh. Bone gleamed wetly in the rain.

  Ivory's rage built beneath Swift-River. The undead dragon's skeletal jaws opened wide, releasing a howl that merged with the storm's fury. Necrotic energy mixed with freezing cold erupted from her maw, creating a wall of death and ice. Ivory flew through her own breath weapon, a destructive vortex.

  As the deadly blast surged toward them. She ducked behind Ivory's wing while the frigid energy engulfed Turrirr and Zirien. Frost gnawed at their flesh as dark energy seeped into their bodies.

  A flash of lightning revealed Zirien's TeraCon form, enveloped in the icy death-magic. His magnificent wings seized, the leathery membranes crackling with frost as he plummeted from the sky. His falcon-pterodactyl hybrid body twisted unnaturally as the necrotic energy took hold. Swift-River's heart lurched painfully in her chest.

  "Zirien!" Her scream tore through the storm. Her pulse hammered against her ribs. He fell.

  Without thinking, Swift-River abandoned her position and dove after him, wings tucked tight against her body. Wind screamed past her ears as she cut through the rain. Nothing mattered except reaching him.

  "Not him," Swift-River whispered, her words lost to the gale. "Please, not him."

  Swift-River extended her claws, catching Zirien's powerful form mere moments before he would have struck the churning lake. His body, normally so agile in flight, hung unnaturally heavy, frost-coated, rigid. His eyes, normally sharp with wit and storm fury, stayed closed beneath his hooked beak.

  Clutching him to her chest, Swift-River beat her wings frantically against the downward pull. Memories flooded her mind. His animated stories by firelight, his eyes sparking with ideas during their planning sessions. That infectious enthusiasm had carried them through impossible odds before.

  Swift-River recalled her first transformation. Zirien had turned it into an adventure, urging her forward with his trademark grin. "Embrace the chaos," he'd told her, inventing spontaneous challenges that pushed her boundaries when others would have counseled caution.

  "Wake up," she hissed, cradling his head against her shoulder. "Don't you dare leave me now?"

  His eyelids fluttered, a soft groan escaping his beak. Relief crashed through her with such force she nearly lost altitude again. The realization struck as suddenly as lightning. She couldn't lose him. Not Zirien. Not ever.

  "Can you fly?" Swift-River asked, steadying him as his wings twitched with returning strength.

  Zirien nodded, his eyes clearing. "Go get her," he rasped, pushing away from her grasp. His powerful TeraCon form faltered momentarily before catching an updraft. He banked left, still shaky but airborne, heading toward the distant lightning.

  Above them, Ivory circled back, preparing to dive.

  Swift-River sheathed her dagger and drew Dragon's Reach from her enchanted bag. The fang-bladed spear gleamed with deadly purpose despite the gloom.

  "Feel this!" She drove the weapon into Ivory's wing joint with all her strength.

  Zirien stirred behind her, his determination unwavering despite his weakened state. Their muscles strained against the spear's shaft, using it as a lever against bone and sinew.

  Howling wind and driving rain battered them as they pushed harder. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating their desperate struggle.

  POP-SNAP-RIP.

  The wing joint gave way with a sickening tear. Swift-River met Zirien's eyes across the battlefield as Ivory's anguished screech split the air. Despite the blood and rain streaming down her face, Swift-River smiled in that moment of triumph. Not just for the victory but for the future battles they would face together.

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  Next time: Ivory falls. But Ruby doesn't forgive failure.

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