The Fall

The end of the darkest hour and the result to which is bound any rising.

The Fall

 

Two riderless dragons, armored with D.D.I. Kevlar saddles, could be seen flying toward where Unit Commander Rainer needed them to be. They had to leave the battlefield over Hotel Frederic in order to help Furia “Wings of Liberty” and the leaders of the Aerial Cover Squad, the bounty hunters Alan Barton and his dragon, Helios; all of whom had found one of the top priority targets’ dragon and were in too bad condition to defeat the hostile. One of the riderless was Preacher, Unit Commander Rainer’s dark orange female dragon, the other one was a slightly smaller dark purple male. Both of them flew straight with their sharp sights fixated forward, ready to kill. Their flying was steady, tempting to be a rushed pace but without using too much energy.

 

This was the scene they were expecting to find: two downed dragons and an energy-less rider, none of them in position to fight and allowing the two newcomers to make their entrance, defeat the hostile and thus fulfilling the mission they were trusted with. However, they came to presence a completely different scenario: The golden dragon, Helios, was a goner, his throat was completely torn and was surrounded by a rug of dark, coagulated blood. Not very far from him were Furia and Helios’s rider, Alan Barton. Furia had her neck arched up, looking down at Alan as this one held a pistol and was aiming it at Furia. But before they could even ask themselves what the f**k was going on, the rider aimed the gun at himself and a detonation took place… followed by the rider dropping dead to the ground.

 

Infuriated, Furia roared at the sky when the two newcomers started to approach for landing. Pacing and ridding herself of energy, Preacher didn’t waste a second before roaring, asking Furia with a grave toned voice, pretty harmonic, alike her rider’s…

 

What the f**k is going on here!? Where is the hostile?

 

The other newcomer guarded up next to his partner as Furia answered without even trying the slightest to cover up her anger…

 

I killed the hostile! Stupid Missourian! Do you want to f*****g burn too!?

 

Preacher didn’t take the reply lightly. She guarded up, showing her fangs and hissing loudly as she told Furia…

 

You better lower yourself! Now what the f**k got into you? Why did the rider shoot himself?

 

Furia then arched back her neck and lunged her head forward as she exhaled a stream of flames at Preacher, who was quick to answer with fire as well. The two pillars of blaze collided between the two dragons and fire spread and spilled around.

 

The other dragon flanked Furia by her right side and pinned her against the ground, biting on the back of her neck. Furia tried to struggle for freedom, but was too injured and weak to do any significant progress at it.

 

Preacher and her companion were still close enough to communicate with their riders, which she did and told U.C. Rainer about Furia’s sudden and unexplainable madness. A little while later, Rainer contacted Preacher and told her that a team of paramedics was on its way there.

 

Next, Furia is seen being pinned down by the medics’ dragons while Preacher and her companion watched from a short distance. The riders were walking around and onto the dark red dragon as they chained her up; forcing shut her jaws and binding her claws and talons together while she could just unsuccessfully try to shake them off and shriek horribly as if being continually stabbed through the ribs, meaning…

 

NO!! You don’t understand!! You have to die!! YOU ALL HAVE TO DIE!!!

 

Preacher had a sharpened sight and never took it away from the dragon that was being treated like a maniac… It just wasn’t the dragon she had met that very same morning. She could only wonder and drift around… What in the world happened to you, Wings of Liberty?

 

It wasn’t much later that Furia was well chained up, placed on the net the medic dragons would carry her on, shaking in every way her limited movement and injuries allowed and crying past her closed maw, never ceasing with the death threats. The four medic dragons, their riders on their backs, had each hooked to their saddles a corner of the net Furia was being transported in as they flew awkwardly, momentarily unbalanced every now and then by Furia’s movements.

 

At a moment, Furia stopped struggling and loosened up, as suddenly as if she had just been unplugged from her life. She just breathed hardly through her nostrils when the dragon-medics maneuvered to land.

 

The medics and the riderless, they have landed and the riders started to jump from their dragons and to position themselves around Furia. Preacher walked up to the Paramedic Captain and, looking down at him, she asked him…

 

Why are you stopping? We have to continue flying.

 

-What exactly are we dealing with, Agent?... �"Demanded the Captain, he was in front of Furia-… What is this of getting Furia away from the battlefield? Look at her eyes!... �"The Captain said as he raised his arm and signaled at Furia.

 

Preacher looked at the apparently sleeping dragon, Furia’s muscles trembling from moment to moment, even though the day had been nowhere near cold. She rested on the side, with her eyes disturbing and plainly open, as if the very definition of horror had frozen in her eyes, her pupils widened and making black the most of her bright yellow eye.

 

-This is no trauma… -continued the Captain-… not for a battle-hardened dragon like Furia “Wings of Liberty”. Now tell us what is going on before it gets worse. This dragon needs professional help immediately!

 

I would tell you without delay, but the only ones who have the details about what’s happening to this dragon are the Texans, Captain. Even Francesco Silvestro is involved.

 

Suddenly, Furia started to hum, like a dog that is in constant light suffering, just that hers was a much grave hum…

 

I made him kill himself… I didn’t want to hurt him, but I wasn’t going to stop either… I made Alan kill himself… He was looking straight at my eye when it happened… I couldn’t… I couldn’t stop…

 

The crimson dragon tried to let out a howl, but was muffled by her closed maw as she struggled to move, her body stopped by the chains. Preacher approached Furia, lowering her head and asked the chained, broken dragon…

 

What’s going on, Furia? What happened back there?

 

Furia made no acknowledgment of Preacher’s question and continued with her mumbling and humming; giving as much information to Preacher to just make her wonder aimlessly around what this disturbed dragon was talking about. Wordless, clueless, Preacher raised her head and turned at her companion next to her, who just shook his head slowly. He was as shocked as his higher-ranked partner. Suddenly, the confused Unit Commander’s dragon heard her rider’s voice in her mind in a strangely agitated tone.

 

Bring Furia back here! Hurry!

 

She’s out of her mind, Clifford. What’s going on?

 

The whole lot of Texans is out of their minds! Just bring Furia here and don’t ask!!

 

Preacher turned back forward and roared vigorously…

 

Alright everyone! New task! You’ll carry Wings of Liberty back at Hotel Frederick!

 

-We can’t take this dragon there!... �"Exclaimed the Captain-… She’s been reduced to an inch of her mind and you want to get her back into a warzone!?

 

Preacher looked down at the tiny rider talking big and answered him…

 

It’s an order.

 

It’s against our protocol as Dragon Medics… -Intervened the Captain’s dragon.

 

Preacher hissed loudly, showing her long, curved, white fangs as she said, looking at both, rider and dragon from moment to moment…

 

I am a D.D.I. Unit Commander’s dragon. And, as such, hold the authority to override any of your protocols even when my rider is absent. Now start flapping your worthless wings or I’ll make sure all of you end up as pizza deliveries by the end of the day!

 

The lectured rider turned and, followed by his fellow riders, started to climb back to his dragon’s saddle. Pleased with having the mission again on its way, Preacher nodded and lowered her guard. Without further delay, the dragon-medics took off and so did Preacher and her partner, getting into an escort formation around the diamond of medics with Furia in the center.

 

Back in front of Hotel Frederick…

 

A dark red smoky sword swung down and was stopped cold by a grey smoky staff. Engulfed in dark red smoke to the whole of his body, Patrick held the sword and pushed it down and forward, looking at his opponent with sharp, killer eyes and pressing his teeth together as his stance trembled for all the strength he was putting in the assault. Wearing a dark gray uniform and a black Kevlar vest that had white letters in the back that read D.D.I, Elvis pressed his weapon forward, holding off his little brother, if he could still call him that. The agent looked at Patrick with frowned eyes and a serious expression of neutrality, focused in his objective caring not about the idea that his own brother might be just one movement away from killing him. He stared at his little brother’s eyes past this one’s sword, as if the blade cut Patrick’s face in half.

 

Around the two was Hotel Frederick’s entrance and the mass of fifty surviving D.D.I. riders, and behind those, their surviving dragons and further behind, the dragons and riders who needed medical assistance. But in front of the pack was U.C. Rainer, his right hand over his pistol holster at his right on his waist and his left hand emanating blue smoke. With a hard and loud voice, the Missourian said…

 

-None of my men has taken the shot!!

 

Patrick looked past Elvis, at U.C. Rainer and yelled…

 

-They did!! And under your order, actually!! You always wanted the credit of this mission despite of our part in it!!

 

Elvis took Patrick’s moment of distraction to quickly twist away his little brother’s sword with his staff and land a hit with the elbow on Patrick’s jaw, to then follow up with a side kick at the stomach. Patrick staggered back a couple of steps as Elvis shouted…

 

-Stop this, Patrick!

 

-No!!... �"Patrick answered, getting back to a fighting stance-… Not until that b*****d reveals who took the shot!! You should be backing me, Elvis!! Whose side are you!?

 

-I’m trying to save you here, brother!! You don’t want to put yourself against the D.D.I. and become a criminal!! You can still walk away a hero!! Just forget about it, alright? You got your vengeance, didn’t you? Weren’t all those you killed enough? The twin brothers? Wasn’t Shawver enough?

 

-Get out of my way Elvis or…

 

The mass of D.D.I. agents started moving to one side and a second later four dragons, hooked up together by a net in the center of their squared formation, flew over Hotel Frederick and approached the clearing. They slowed their landing to the most they could and placed the cargo on the ground and then landed themselves, panting hardly.

 

As the net dropped completely to the ground, Furia was able to see the center of the commotion. Her vision was unfocussed, the trail of thoughts drifting from the memory of Helios and Alan dying in front of her over and over again. A shade of dark red dancing around and a well-known voice got her attention and cut the flow of her thoughts.

 

I have to find him! Who the f**k took the shot!? He’s going to pay! He’s going to pay hard for stealing MY KILL!!

 

 

Inside the hurt one

 

As my sight slowly focused, I thought… P… Patrick?

 

I started to slowly stand and sharp waves of pain made me grunt and hindered my progress. I couldn’t even touch the ground with my right front claw and arching up my neck seemed to be a task that required a lot of effort. My surroundings were clear at a moment and I could understand what was happening in front of me… Patrick was trying to kill Elvis… he fought with all of what he had left to fight with. His presence was so weak, yet he was fighting so vividly. His killing intent so strong in my mind it made me nauseous.

 

Patrick had brought all of today’s tragedies with his stupid, already fulfilled vengeance and he was still onto killing. Even when it was over, he wanted to go on. It wasn’t enough to get our friends killed… it wasn’t enough to make me do what I had to do to defeat Shawver’s dragon… All the lives that were lost today weren’t enough for him. It was I who had enough of this. With a strong roar I told Patrick, hitting his mind the hardest I could…

 

S**t, Patrick! What the f**k is wrong with you!!?

 

As if everything had suddenly been obscured by my presence, Patrick turned toward me with wide worried eyes, his dark red aura following him around and leaving smoke of the same color to dissipate behind him. Keeping my stance, I looked down at him as he approached my right shoulder and placed his hands against my scales. Smoke flowing into me as I grunted from moment to moment as bones snapped in place in my rib cage. At a moment I was all cured, back as good as new. I stretched my right leg, placing it on the ground, and flapped my wings once before folding them closed.

 

All by yourself… He started saying… You took Shawver’s dragon all by yourself. That’s…

 

I cut him cold and exclaimed, hissing loudly and showing my fangs…

 

That’s what you are thinking!!? You won’t ask about our friends!? You don’t care about Helios dying saving my life!!? You won’t ask about what I had to do to kill Shawver’s dragon!? About how I had to allow the Mind Poison to infect me because he would have killed me otherwise!?... My tone started to drop along with my guard… About how I couldn’t stop it afterwards? Forcing Alan to shoot himself in the head… just so I couldn’t kill him. Don’t you care about your comrades anymore?

 

I care about my comrades, Furia… -Patrick said as he pat my shoulder-… But this is a war and…

 

I looked up and roared, annoyed and then looked down at Patrick again as I said…

 

It was, Patrick!! It’s over!! What else are you looking for!? I know what you are doing with the Vital Energy, I can feel the outtake and there’s not much left. You’ll die if you don’t end this! Now cut that s**t out and let’s go home!

 

-D****t, Furia!! You too!?... �"Patrick pushed me hardly, but only managed to push himself away and started to walk backwards, away from me, never turning his enraged face from me and giving the back to Elvis and U.C. Rainer, along with his men in that direction-… YOU TOO!!?... �"He made gestures with his arms and pointed at me-… You too are going to betray me!!!?... �"Patrick whipped his hands at the D.D.I. agents around him as he yelled louder-… You teamed up with this s***s!!? HUH!? ALL OF YOU!!! YOU F*****G BACKSTABBERS!!!

 

U.C. Rainer, then answered Patrick…

 

-It was one of your own agents who took the shot!

 

But in less than a second Patrick reacted to the Missourian agent’s intervention and generated a dagger as he started to quickly say in a rising tone, starting in a low mutter and finishing in a loud yell…

 

-Who the f**k told you to…!!!?... �"The agents in the frontline around him lifted their guns in a swift movement and U.C. Rainer quickly covered himself with a shield.

 

But Patrick didn’t manage to swing his arm before I stepped forward and bashed my head low, knocking Patrick from his feet and sending him to the air. Patrick landed to a blur of dark red smoke and rolled for a second before trying to stand up. As he started to rise, he grunted loudly and yelled…

 

-You are all going to…!! -But Patrick couldn’t say anything else before I reached down and bit Patrick’s leg, turning whatever he was going to say into a loud and painful scream. If I didn’t know how to block Patrick from my mind, I would have felt my own bite.

 

Elvis turned to U.C. Rainer and spoke to him with a hard tone. Even though he was considerably younger than the Missourian Unit Commander, he carried the same level of authority and used it…

 

-Just take off, Rainer! Along with your men! There’s nothing you can help with here!

 

In a rather calmed, but solid voice, Rainer answered…

 

-I’m not going till your brother stops being a threat to Missouri.

 

Elvis just turned away with a grunt, saying no more, and facing me once again.

 

I then arched up my neck, lifting Patrick and letting him hang from his right leg; his blood dripping outside of the suit and running up his leg and to his back as he tried to reach up, cursing the pain away. After a couple of failed attempts, he just let himself hang, laboriously shutting his screams to a hard breathing and constant grunting…

 

Stop the…!!

 

-Shut up!!!... �"Patrick shouted-… Shut up and put me down!!

 

Cut the flow now!!

 

As Patrick’s right hand started emanating even more crimson smoke and a blade was starting to take form within his grasp, he shouted to the loudest he could and quickly craned back his arm… -I SAID PUT ME DOWN!!!

 

Elvis’s eyes widened in an instant as he darted his arm up to his front and shouted… -Patrick, no!!!-… Pyro and the dragons around roared the loudest they could at the instant… All and each of the agents were struck to the cores of their minds and their staring eyes and cut off respiration were to prove so.

 

It stung in my neck and made me flinch, no need to wonder what Patrick had done. I could see through his vision he had dug the tip of the blade in my neck, drawing a tiny flow of blood from me that drifted down.

 

I’ll hurt you worse, Furia, if you don’t let me down in ten seconds.

 

Do me the f*****g favor, now, would you? You get Helios killed, Alan ends up shooting himself in the head so I wouldn’t carry the guilt of killing him, and now you just condemned us both to a miserable existence in the Bermuda Triangle. I’m sick of you, Patrick. I’m sick of all this s**t. Just go ahead and kill me… the sooner the better.

 

Still unable to talk as the pain turned any sound he would make to grunts and curses, Patrick touched my mind and asked…

 

What? What does the Bermuda Triangle has to even do with…?

 

This was all a test, Patrick! The Mind Poison is still alive in you, deep inside your subconscious.

 

No… Furia, Alessio healed me! I forgot everything for a while, but I’m back!

 

Calming my tone, I answered him…

 

A poor job Alessio did at it. Look at what you are doing, Patrick. Just a moment ago you were trying to kill your own brother, and I bet never before have you thought about hurting me and… you find it makes sense to kill in order to stop killing.

 

Patrick stayed silent for a couple of seconds, his extended arm with which he held the sword he was stabbing me started to tremble more noticeably. Suddenly he snapped to the top of his lungs…

 

-That’s bullshit, Furia!! That’s bullshit!!! You just want to blame me for everything!!! It was YOU who left me alone back in Miami!! You activated the Mind Poison and now you want to blame me!!! All I did today!! Everything I did was for you!!! I came here to avenge you!! Are you forgetting that!!?

 

No, I haven’t, Patrick. That exactly was the test… to see if you could defeat the Mind Poison once everything was over… but you have failed. Now we both are too dangerous to be in a civilization… That’s why we are going to be exiled to the Bermuda Triangle. Now cut the energy flow before you get yourself killed… I’m not letting you go until you do so.

 

Patrick took his time before answering, his mind drifting with quick ideas. All the agents around us were tense, looking focused at Patrick. It was Elvis who broke the silence, saying lowly and as calmly as he could…

 

-We can go home at any moment, Patrick… you can stop this and no one’s going to mention it.

 

Patrick’s mind started to settle, calming down in defeat as he let out a hard sigh and took the tip of the sword out of my neck. He let his arms fall and hang from his shoulders, hardening his face and tensing all of his muscles as the words started to come out of him, interrupted by waves of pain and his own hard respiration…

 

-So there’s no other exit from this, huh? This is what you are going to do. This is what you planned since the f*****g beginning! Trash everything we have fought for? Betray me? You want me to give up to you, huh? So nice it was to be on your f*****g own while I was in a coma! You want to be the one in charge, huh!? Is that it!? The one taking decisions!? I never did anything if it wasn’t for your own good!! Well, ok. Fine. I won’t be a f*****g burden to you then.

 

Patrick then swung his arm and threw a blade at my yellow identification collar, cutting it clean and allowing it to fall to the ground. Then he proceeded to cut his bracelet and threw it away, which, along with my collar, was a legal mean to prove that we were properly related dragon and rider. Then he said, in a hard, solid tone, the four words I never, by any chance, not even in my most wicked thoughts, ever imagined my rider saying…

 

-I have no dragon.

 

Patrick’s mind was no more, then. As soon as the smoke started dissipating around him, his consciousness shut itself off and all that was left of Patrick was his faint presence in my mind. It struck in my composition, making me half back-step as my respiration became hard and heavy.

 

That’s the Mind Poison talking… for sure, but… Why does it hurt so badly?