Wings of Change

[Quetzal]

Isrydia and Arlyn were not happy. That is, the witches possessing the pair were upset. No doubt the real duo were a little worse for wear than the beings that had made them a prison of their own skulls. Isrydia had thought that Arlyn would be able to reach the Air Citadel, but it would seem that the power of the Air Branch needed the mind and not just the body. They knew how to reach the citadel from their memories, but the storms were too strong. After a long time struggling against the winds, they had given up, battered, bruised and frustrated.

They had new power from the Varden. Helping Reru steal a dragon's egg from them with their knowledge of the Varden and the Varden's trust for the real Isrydia and Arlyn, they had managed to steal a few scrolls on long unused magic. It was pretty dark stuff. The horrors contained in those words had made them smile. The anger brought on by being unable to raid the Air Citadel had made them test those words.

Yet they were still not happy as they stood in the middle of a small village. The dragon was not yet six months old so could not breathe fire, but that had not hindered them. The village was a nice place, where dwarves and humans worked together. It was isolated from the rest of Alagaesia, its people hearing little of the conflict there. Word was unlikely to spread outside the village, and it had a few nice cozy inns. It was the perfect place to hide until the Varden lost the trail of the egg she had helped steal and the Air Branch lost any suspicions. They would be fed, have a nice bed to sleep in. The villagers might be surprised by a Rider and dragon suddenly appearing in their midst, but they wouldn't be able to alert anyone. Besides, who would believe the the sighting in such an insignificant place? It'd probably be dismissed as another wild story. With a little work, they could get all this safety for free, too. They knew everyone would keep quiet and let them stay for free.

Because everyone was dead. As Isrydia sat in a tavern sipping ale with corpses, Arlyn lapping up water from a bucket beside her having entered by making the doorway a little larger, the real Isrydia and Arlyn were in a state of shock. They had never killed anyone. They had never been more afraid. All this time they had found no information on their possessors, who had seen everything in their minds and refused them any snippet of information regarding theirs. So far, they had seen their crimes, all of which had been to achieve a goal.

Not this. This was a massacre. Cold-blooded and pointless. The loneliness was crippling. Isrydia and Arlyn could see everything, including one another, but they could not contact one another. Isrydia was sobbing uncontrollably inside, helpless and terrified and guilty. She could see the faces of the dozens of people she had just murdered. The slaughter had been total. Women, children, even babies in arms. She could not stop thinking about the sight of their innocent, scared and confused faces. Those expressions quickly changed to ones of unimaginable pain as bones shattered and black flames licked around them, melting their skin and turning their hair and clothes to dust. Arlyn could still see the innards of the people he had torn apart mercilessly. Their captors had laughed as they murdered. The fire was black, completely different to the ice blue colour Isrydia's magic normally took. The spell was terrible. The fire it conjured had caused so much pain but left them alive long enough for their captors to inflict more suffering.

They were helpless, and the possessors sat calmly in a tavern among the charred dead. If anyone caught them, they would think it was the real Isrydia and Arlyn gone rogue. The blame would mean execution, surely. The horror and terror was breaking apart their minds, shredding their will and making them unable to think straight. All they could think about was all the people who had died.

[Brenton]

Sparrow Wing, fly up to the mountains as high as you can and stay out of sight. I don't like the look of this village, it seems deserted and deserted is never a good sign in this world. Arlorven drew his dagger which was actually the size of a short sword and was leaf bladed, made of material that only the grey folk knew about. He walked toward the village while the mountain roc flew up into the sky on silent wings and disappeared into the mountains obviously having found a cave. He was on his own now unless Sparrow Wing heard his shout when he called.

The grey folk traveler walked into the deserted village and immediately his senses were assaulted by the smell of dead bodies and decaying flesh as maggots ate the villagers who had been murdered. This had been senseless killing and that was one thing that Arlorven could not stand seeing was people who were injured by a fight that should not have happened in the first place. With a muttered curse, the man found a tavern where it looked like bloody foot prints led and someone had walked into the building.

He swung the dagger slowly and heard the whistle of metal flying through the air that was all the sound he gave to alert anyone he was there. Come out of the tavern so I don't have to blow it up with you inside. I don't like the thought of hurting people but you killed these people and I want an explanation as to why you did it. Already he was getting ready to cast a spell to destroy the building and whoever was in it so as to keep himself safe. After all, Arlorven was just a map maker who traveled to Alagaesia to chart this unknown land so he could add it to his compendium of charts and notations.

[Quetzal]

((Your next post will be you 1000th! Congrats!))

The real Isrydia screamed inside her mind. A voice meant a person. A person meant death. She did not want to kill this man. It might not be her doing the killing, but it was her body and she could see it though her eyes. She had failed every person who she had killed so far by not being strong enough, not even when Arlyn had been able to help when they were first taken over, to force out the possessors.

The false Isrydia smiled and looked at the false Arlyn. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, set down her tankard, and swaggered towards the ruins of the doorway, kicking a smoldering corpse casually out the way as she walked. The witch had power and knew more magic than Isrydia, and she could use Isrydia's connection to the ancient magic of dragons to do as she pleased.

Isrydia didn't bother drawing her sword, but instead raised a hand and with a few words conjured a black fireball, tossing it lazily from one hand to the other to make the thread clear. Arlyn bared his teeth and narrowed his eyes as he emerged to daylight. Just one man. The real Isrydia was suddenly afraid. He looked like he knew how to fight, unlike all the innocent she had killed. Arlyn was probably safe, but what if he killed her? She would die, but the possessor would just be able to withdraw from her body and would live on to carry on killing and causing suffering.

Desperately she struggled with her captor. She had been wrestling with them constantly while they killed the villagers, so she was weak now. The possessor had been able to stop her easily then and it was even easier now. Arlyn was struggling too, but with more success. Dragons naturally had stronger, deeper minds than humans, and he was able to put up more of a fight. While he was unable to do anything as simple as touch Arlorven's mind - that alone should tell the man that there was something other than dragon in this creature's mind - he was able to cause some commotion in his head. Should Arlorven try touching Arlyn's mind, he would sense a faint disturbance and might tell there was a struggle going on somewhere deep inside. Isrydia hoped he might think it was weird that her magic was black rather than matching the scales of her dragon like most Riders. "I was angry. They were there. Good stress relief, seeing them die. Oh, you should have seen how long they suffered before I let them die," she smiled, trying to make Arlorven disgusted with her. Those villagers had been fun, but she might get the chance to properly test her skills here.

[Brenton]

Arlorven saw the black fire and sighed inwardly because every dragon rider had magic the color of their dragon, even Brenton who had a mix of blue and gold to show he was not a normal dragon rider. With a shake of his head, Arlorven spit out a string of words in a language spoken on his island just before a ring of fire shot up into the air around the dragon and female rider. "Do not tempt me, foolish mortal girl, for you shall not win this fight even though you are a dragon rider."

He thrust his dagger out and with it his mind toward the blue dragon that had remained quiet oddly enough. As his mind touched the dragon's he felt a presence he had hoped would not be there in this being no matter what the circumstances. A witch and another had possessed these two it seemed and the dragon was fighting valiantly to break free so he could be in control.

Quickly the grey folk withdrew and he smirked at the dragon and rider with the most disarming look on his face to make them think he was being calm. In the back of his mind he was planning out a strategy for this situation with this particular she-rider. "Witch, release your hold upon these two and go about your own business once again for they are not yours to control. This is an order or you will feel the wrath of magic that not even you can imagine in your frail mind."

Arlorven felt energy fill him as he drew it in from the surroundings and gathered it into a ball attack, ready to send it flying from his hand and straight into the heart of the rider. It would anger the dragon and he would have to call Sparrow Wing for backup but that didn't matter because it would make his point.

[Quetzal]

Isrydia frowned upon hearing the words Arlorven used to start the fire. She did not recognise them. They were not the Ancient Language, and it that were the case... they must have great power. This man wasn't going to be the straightforward fight she thought. Perhaps he would even be a match for her abilities.

Arlyn didn't speak to those who knew Isrydia or those they weren't sure about, as that would mean contact via the mind which could result in the other person realising his mind felt distinctly different to that of the real Arlyn. When he felt a sudden stab at his mind, he tensed to retaliate, but he'd been preoccupied with Arlyn's struggle. It wasn't hard to tell Arlorven would know that what he felt was a struggle for control.

The witch sneered. "Our minds are not frail. We overpowered this dragon and Rider and have continued to hold them, after all," there was no point trying to hide it and her pride was hurt. At the magic attack aimed at her, she laughed. "You can't kill us. You don't even know where we are! We're not letting these two go while they still live. Attack us, and you'll kill the real Rider and dragon. They were no one special, but I can tell you they were good souls," she wouldn't say any more. It'd be funny if this Rider died without anyone even knowing. Isrydia and Arlyn realised with fresh panicking the connotations of their being referred to in the past tense. Whenever the witches, if Arlorven was correct about the identity of their possessor, were tired of them, they would kill them before leaving their minds. They were afraid they would never be in control of themselves ever again.

[Brenton]

Arlorven smirked, a simple and over confident movement of his lips, as his eyes shifted to the inn a split second before the attack hurtled forward and destroyed the structure, sending if down toward the two below. It was a feeble attempt but it would still pin them while Arlorven thought of something more permanent. As the pile of timber and shingle fell, the grey folk man gathered himself tall and shot forward like an arrow from a bow string until he was right in front of the girl.

"You honestly believe I'm going to kill you? I don't kill for fun or without provocation so you have no reason to get me to fight you, petty she-witch. I could cast a stronger spell than you easily and there is no doubt in my mind that so could these two who you attacked senselessly. Maybe the king, Brenton Bromsson, would know what was best to do with two witches who possessed riders and dragons. After all he does train them and he had a fairth of this one with the blue scales flying over head in his palace. I'm sure he would be real pleased to see that you have imprisoned two of his friends so viciously. Maybe even pleased enough to use this power I have heard the wind tell tale of him having now that no one can rival aside from maybe one person in the Empire. Do you want to test me she-witch, or will you leave peacefully and not return to these two again?"

Arlorven gave a piercing three note whistle that echoed from the mountains up to where Sparrow Wing was to alert the roc of his plan to flee quickly if this turned ugly. He was faster than any human could ever be and a lot stronger so he would easily make it to the edge of the village and beyond before they could get into the air. Of course this could also be a trap by the two witches to draw Sparrow Wing out if they knew about the mountain roc hiding in a cave high above them but Arlorven would just have to take that chance and maybe he would get away anyhow without having to hurt the two in front of him with more than the bruises they had to have from the timber falling on top of them from above.

[Quetzal]

The falling timber would have stopped Isrydia normally, but the witch was stronger and faster. She leaped out the way of the worst of it. It was impossible for her to avoid any damage, but all that happened was a few bruises. The rubble forced her down, and once she shoved aside whatever had fallen on her she was face to face with Arlorven. She was surprised to hear him refer to Brenton as 'the king', given that this man was not an elf. Brenton was king of the elves. This man was clearly not an Empire supporter or a dwarf, so he had no king.

It was hard for her to take him seriously. All she heard was empty threats and self-righteous babble, to which she rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Brenton this, Brenton that. This Brenton really needs to get over himself. It's ridiculous for him to assume he's the second most powerful person in the Empire. He'll fade like the rest of us. I'm surprised he's lasted this long, actually. He's always seeking new power to be better than everyone else, and succeeding too. Haven't you heard that tale before? How long do you reckon until that lust for power corrupts him?" she taunted. It was mostly lies, of course, but Arlorven didn't know how much she knew about Brenton. In actual fact it was more than most, but she wouldn't let on to how well the Rider she was possessing did know the half-elf king.

Isrydia and Arlyn had never heard of Arlorven before and had no idea he was one of the grey folk nor that a mountain roc was nearby. The whistle was clearly a signal, but as to what they couldn't say. Arlyn's consciousness finally moved to communicate with Arlorven. "You tell us what that whistle was in aid of or we'll find out ourselves. Maybe we'll see a few other things while we're at it," he snarled. He exerted a slight pressure on Arlorven's mind, his own mind rather chaotic due to the swirling struggle of the real Arlyn deep inside. He was aware this contact could be Arlorven's opening to try freeing the real Arlyn, so barriers were up even within parts of his own mind.

[Brenton]

Arlorven scoffed and shoved his mind out at Arlyn, using strength that few could find, but at the same time he was backing up slowly. When Arlyn attacked him, Arlorven withdrew and threw up walls before spinning and sprinting as fast as he could for the walls. "SPARROW WING!" He shouted as loud as he could and was replied with a great shriek that pierced the air before a shape detached itself from the mountain and shot down at him with speed that rivaled none.

Air was whistling as Arlorven felt the sharp talons grab his shirt and lift him up as Sparrow Wing caught him before flying back up. With a few movements he climbed up onto the saddle on Sparrow Wing's back and took the dagger which he slid into the sheathe. He had to get to Brenton soon to alert him to this situation but it would have to be on Sparrow Wing or they would never stand a chance.

"We have to get to Du Weldenvarden and speak to the king about that rider and dragon. They are possessed by witches and therefore are a danger to the elves and Varden who they are friends of, I almost guarantee that. Please fly true and as fast as possible my friend." Arlorven sank into his mind to search for a way through this, knowing that Sparrow Wing would alert him to danger if it presented itself.

[Quetzal]

Sparrow Wing must have been who or whatever Arlorven had been whistling to earlier. Sparrow Wing sounded like the name of a creature more than a humanoid, and sure enough a mountain roc swooped low. Isrydia and Arlyn were surprised. They had thought maybe Arlorven was a Rider, although 'Sparrow Wing' was an odd name for a dragon. It could have been a codeword for 'come and pick me up'. Mountain rocs were not commonly seen, especially not around these parts.

Isrydia wasted no time in taking a running jump into Arlyn's saddle. The dragon worked closely with her and was prepared to fly away, doing so once she told him she was secured. Flying was an odd experience, but the witch was used to wings now and rose up after the mountain roc. They couldn't contact Brenton's mind claiming to be Isrydia, as that would give them away swiftly, so they had to get there ahead of Arlorven. While they would still be able to wreak havoc with their strength, once exposed they wouldn't be so safe. Currently they had the security of everyone they met believing them to be a Rider and dragon. No one knew any different because Isrydia and Arlyn were reasonably new Riders so hadn't distinguished themselves. Few would recognise them or find their behaviour suspicious.

The ball of black flames was still in Isrydia's hand from earlier. Once Arlyn had steadied, she let it fly towards Sparrow Wing. The intention was to hit a wing and damage the feathers, but they were moving fast so any connection would be welcomed.

[Brenton]

Sparrow Wing raised a wing and the ball of flames whistled by as the mountain roc flew faster, gaining speed and soon looking like only a blur of feathers instead of an actual creature who was in the air. This was the sky and therefore the domain of the mountain rocs even if Arlorven and Sparrow Wing were in a new land with new air. The ground was a blur of brown as the Hadarac Desert whizzed past them but for some reason it looked like they weren't moving. Suddenly Arlorven put his hand on Sparrow Wing's neck and the mountain roc dove downward, skimming the ground with only a few feet between them and the sand. A dangerous maneuver like this could get them killed if they hit the ground but it was also faster along the ground because the air above wasn't blowing against them as much.

Arlorven could see the trees ahead as Du Weldenvarden got closer to them and the grey folk rider cast his mind toward the trees, hoping he was close enough. Just barely he could feel Brenton's mind as he argued with Vaentr about something but that wasn't important at the moment. Get to the Hadarac as soon as possible! We have an issue with a dragon and rider that you know who are possessed by witches. They killed an entire village in the Beor Mountains and were busy trying to kill me when I remembered that you know them. Hurry King Brenton or we will have issues, I don't want to kill them but they are shooting fire at me and Sparrow Wing.

---

Brenton finished arguing with Vaentr just as Arlorven contacted him, rambling about a rider being possessed by witches and killing entire villages. He sounded desperate and said that it was important that the king get to the Hadarac as soon as he could so the king ran outside and hopped onto Grazael's back. The golden dragon roared and they shot into the air, flying toward the desert at top speed while they gathered their wills. Instantly they were putting wards on each other.

As the edge of the Hadarac came into view, Grazael landed and Brenton dismounted, looking at Grazael. I can't die but you can, please Grazael, return to the city and stay there until I get back or my cruxis crystal appears next to you. Either way, protect the crystal and wait for me to get there.

Grazael waited for Brenton to walk out into the desert as he watched but he couldn't go because he had seen the dragon following Sparrow Wing. It was Arlyn and that just wasn't possible because they were brothers and brothers didn't turn on each other like this no matter what. Grazael roared in anger and shot into the air, flying straight at Arlorven and Sparrow Wing who were getting ready to turn and fight Isrydia and Arlyn.

Just as Grazael shot into the air at the grey folk, Brenton looked up and his eyes focused on what was going on. No emotions were shown because he was beyond that but he knew that before the cruxis crystal, the king would have cried as he watched Isrydia closing in on Sparrow Wing and Grazael heading toward Arlorven.

Yet what would have hurt him the most was what happened next for as the golden dragon got to the edge of the battle he gave a mighty roar and Sparrow Wing shrieked in warning at Arlorven. It was instinct and protecting himself but the grey folk cast a spell that was aimed at Grazael. The spell shot toward him and destroyed the golden dragon in a great explosion.

Brenton gazed on but the rage that filled him wasn't his entirely but more of Vaentr's at seeing the golden dragon killed like that, leaving behind the eldunari in the palace back in Ellesmera. It happened all at once, where it normally took a minute or so with the change. Brenton had been humanoid one moment and the next he was a massive blue dragon roaring to the heavens and taking off into the air at Arlorven. That grey folk rider had just killed his dragon and he dared to think he was going to help him now.

---

Arlorven noticed Brenton flying toward him in anger after Grazael was killed by the explosion that shook the air around him. That put the fear in the grey folk because he had seen this king in battle and he knew that Brenton was very violent now that he could become Vaentr. Quickly Sparrow Wing spun around and they shot off toward parts unknown, hoping to escape and soon they were gone, using speed that they couldn't normally use. The entire time, Arlorven fed energy to Sparrow Wing.

[Quetzal]

Isrydia and Arlyn fell behind but kept up their pursuit. Ordinarily the dragon and Rider would take several days to fly across the desert as they were not capable of summing up the energy to use a powerful speeding spell for that long and had yet to master the art of riding the wind as an Air Branch member. The witches were stronger. Still unable to use skills of the Air Branch, they instead cast spells to make Arlyn's wings more powerful with each beat. They caught up to Arlorven and Sparrow Wing just as Brenton and Grazael arrived.

Real Arlyn's heart would have leaped were it still his own. Brenton and Grazael would be able to help with their strength, and they would know old and wise people who could help free their minds. There was hope for them. Their friends would know something was wrong even if Arlorven didn't manage to tell them; Brenton and Grazael knew them too well not to see through the witches' pretense. If his draconic mind was strong enough to demand a little of the witch's attention, perhaps his brother, the elven king and Vaentr if the Eldunari was with them would be able to remove the witch once and for all. Isrydia felt likewise, watching the world as if it were a TV show she has once been a part of. It was odd being so detached.

Arlyn watched Grazael rush at Arlorven, clearly thinking it was the grey folk who was evil here, not the other dragon. No! he shouted in vain, the words never able to leave his mind, Brother, I'm the evil one, I was too weak, attack me, Arlorven's trying to help! but no one but the witch would ever hear those words. From his distanced view on reality he saw the mountain roc cry out, the grey folk turn, the spell shoot out. His muscles could no longer respond to his desperate pleas to make them move to knock Grazael out the way. In that moment, he connected to the magic dragons could use on occasion. Unfortunately, his body was not his to channel it, so nothing happened. Otherwise, a barrier would have been put up around Grazael to absorb the attack and keep him safe.

Instead he watched his brother die. The gruesomely violent manner of it disturbed him to his core. The explosion sent acrid smoke into the air, charred bone and glittering golden scales pelting Isrydia and Arlyn. He could feel bits bouncing off his own scales and felt dizzy with horror. The intense fear, disgust, and misery took complete control over him. This coupled with his spontaneous link with magic made his mind shove forwards with an almighty mental roar. The unprecedented strength caught the witch off guard, and Arlyn felt the fuzziness lift from his limbs as he regained control over them.

"BROTHER! ARLORVEN, HOW COULD YOU! HE WAS MY FRIEND, YOU CAN'T, YOU CAN'T!" his grief was as bad as in the moments after Nelfarion had killed Brenton and Grazael, except this time was far worse. This time it dragged on. There was no message saying that everything was all right really. He was fairly certain Grazael had given up his Eldunari already, but it wouldn't be the same. They would never fly together, never hunt together or fight together again. They could talk, but he would never again see or feel or smell his closest friend again. Ever. And it hurt. It hurt so much.

Arlyn was a wreck. He felt betrayed by Arlorven, who had seemed like the last ray of hope when he'd realised they were possessed and told Brenton. He wanted to hurt him, to tear his throat out. He had never before wanted to kill someone in cold blood, but right now he thirsted for Arlorven's blood. Yet that would be a bad thing to do. Arlorven was on their side, Brenton knew him, he'd tried to help them. But no one would release enough magic to kill a dragon, especially not one as strong as Grazael, dragon of a king, purely by accident! That was just ridiculous! With a roar to rival that of Brenton as he transformed into a blue dragon, his icy scales ran alongside Brenton's new darker ones in pursuit of Arlorven. If Brenton was attacking the man, he must be an enemy, and he had just killed his dearest friend in something that could not possibly be an accident.

Arlorven was too fast, however, and escaped. Isrydia had been struggling the entire time, despairing at the loss of Grazael. Arlyn was having a hard enough time fending off his own witch to risk taking on another, but now Isryia's witch chose to attack him instead. Isrydia felt only agony at Grazael's death and a dull stinging warmth where one of his scales had struck her across the hand when the witch had raised her arms to shield her face from the explosion. The witch had caught it and pocketed it as a trophy, proof she had been some way involved in the slaying of a dragon. It made Isrydia think back to when she had pocketed Arlyn's eggshell when he had first hatched.

The strength of two witches was too much, and Arlyn's connection to magic was fading. He could feel himself slipping back under their control. Before they could completely smother him, he managed to reach out to Brenton. "You have to help us! We've been possessed... by witches..." he was cut off as full control was regained by the witch, who turned his body back to face the dragon-formed king. He flew over Brenton rather than attacking, but then drew his tail up. He flicked it down like a whip aimed at the unprotected skin of Brenton's wings. The spikes on the top of his tail were the weapon being used here. All he could do was hope Brenton would understand and attack the witch's mind to try freeing him and Isrydia.

[Brenton]

Brenton felt his mind coursing with rage but somewhere deep inside, at the back and locked away from the battle, he heard Arlyn speak about being possessed by witches and then the ice blue dragon was over him. It was a simple attack that Vaentr had learned back when he was young and Grazael had learned as well, to use the tail as a weapon against the wings, so he rolled. The right wing dipped in response to instinct and Brenton rolled to the side out of the way but he was using knowledge from Vaentr and not himself. This wasn't right to fight his former pupils when they were not evenly matched but Brenton had no choice in the matter.

With a roar that shot bluish-gold flames into the air high above, Brenton sent a mental attack at both of the witches at the same time. Not something he would have done before when he saw Isrydia and Arlyn all the time, but he was stronger now and this was going to be easy. You were my friends, both of you! Now you are possessed by witches and therefore the reason that Grazael is dead! He was protecting YOU even though he was disadvantaged in the fight. NEVER AGAIN!

Pure hatred filled the mental roar that accompanied his words as Brenton used all of his strength to batter at the witches who were possessing his greatest friends. He'd lost too many and seen too much to lose them like this and now he was going to bring down wrath from above to focus on these two. I TRUSTED YOU ISRYDIA! Release her now, witch, and I will think about not hunting you down with the intent to slaughter both of you for this treachery.

Brenton continued to roar in anger as he flew in a circle, attacking mentally at the two who he had once thought of as his friends. When had they been possessed? Was it before or after he met Rella or went into Isrydia's house to talk to her. Was she possessed when he met her in the first place back in the Empire at the celebration? No, there was no way someone as kind or caring could have been possessed then and she would not stay that way even if it meant he had to kill her to avoid it.

[Quetzal]

Isrydia, the real one, was actually frightened by Brenton. Since when had he been able to shift into a dragon. She could feel his mind even behind the witch's, and it was broken. It was not how his mind used to feel like. Somthing had happened since they had last met, something terrible. It must have something to do with his new form. From what she had seen from the memories Brenton, Grazael and Vaentr had shown herself and Arlyn, this was Vaentr's body, but that didn't make any sense. Vaentr's body was dead, just like Grazael's. How could it return? And how was it even possible for Brenton to shift into it? Was he a dragon spirit now? She'd thought dragon spirits were born, not made. The anger was frightful, to top it all off. Killing their dragon was just about the worst thing you could do to a Rider, and that blame was pinned on her. Or the leech in her mind. She felt guilty all the same, so guilty, as if it were she herself who had killed Grazael by being unable to shift the strong hag from her mind.

The two were exhausted, but the mental attack forced them both to try again. Brenton was attacking the witches from the outside, Isrydia and Arlyn from within. Isrydia's witch was stronger than Arlyn's, and both were putting up a fight.

Isrydia felt her lips move and her hands stretch out. Black lighting forked through the air. The lightning, being electricity, rushed at Brenton at literally the speed of light, so would be impossible to avoid, although it wasn't so accurate as other forms of magic since it was far less predictable. Arlyn lunged at Brenton in a basic tackle, jaws snapping and claws reaching for any part of their friend they could. The witches were desperate to end this quickly, since they knew Brenton was strong than they were.

Isrydia was feeling some more give in the witch, pushing at her mind. The witch had strong barriers up, however, and the steely defenses were not going down any time soon. She was lashing out, giving Isrydia a headache as she stabbed at the occupant and intruder's minds. Arlyn was having better luck. His witch was not as strong so was forced to be more defensive than offensive, retreated to a barrier. He threw himself at it, trying to break it, but so far there was no luck. He was fighting for his life, feeling that for once he actually stood a chance. He might get free, and if he did he could try helping his Rider.

[Brenton]

The world was in slow motion as time seemed to stop itself so the once great elf king could see every detail of what was happening before it did. As he watched Isrydia's lips move and fingers outstretch, the glow in his palm, or where it should have been so the paw, grew intense and seemed to blind him for a second. The glow expanded and magic filled his veins as Brenton watched the lightning streak around him along the dome of protective magic that had sprung up out of necessity. The entire time, Brenton descended through the air and landed on the ground, already turning back into his bipedal form with full royal attire.

One of the only times he wore a king's cloak and silk clothing was when he had to fight his former students and banish witches from their minds. Of course this was what happened but maybe he wouldn't have to use force in any way aside from a little tricky magic that he was just discovering. Brenton drew Undbitr with his left hand and held it ready, blue blade pointing down at an angle toward the ground.

His body was no longer able to feel pain or heartache but he could feel anger and all of it was directed at the next moves that he made. A bluish-gold light emanated from the blue blade as Brenton glared at the witches and then he thrust the sword upward toward the heavens while his mind screamed at him for blood. No time for violence right now or this would all go south quickly.

A pure rage filled mental attack at the iron walls of the witch in Arlyn's mind created him time to cast the spell he needed for this situation. The words were impossible to define in the mortal language used by most people but the general feeling of them was still the same. Nether energy and dark magic had created the cruxis crystal and given Brenton a far more intimate knowledge of the Ancient Language to be able to say he wanted the energy of heat to penetrate the wall and hold fast any attacks on him or anyone else.

The spell was risky and most people refused to tap the energy of the elements because it was so untamed but Brenton was immortal now so he was able to do this and survive. Plus this was one situation where his anger fueled his body as the sword, Undbitr, gathered the heat and focused it into the spell. Hopefully the spell would bar the witch in until he could get her to relinquish her hold on Isrydia.

[Quetzal]

As Brenton headed for the ground, the witches followed. Isrydia jumped off Arlyn's back, landing in front of her friend. She drew her sword as Arlyn landed beside her, teeth bared, but witches fought better with magic than blades so the blade was only a secondary weapon to resort to if need be. Brenton's protection angered her. She raised her arms and spoke more words in a northern language more harsh and crude than the Ancient Language, and a great barrier of black flames licked the air in front of her. They were ready to absorb whatever magic Brenton threw at them and would burn him should he try crossing it. Immortal he may be, he could still burn and deform.

Arlyn froze at the immense pressure on his mind. The witch had to use every ounce of her concentration to protect herself. That meant no moving. She strained and fought, but it was no use. Arlyn and Brenton were just too strong. Odd to her was the magic Brenton was using; it was familiar as dark magic. Arlyn recognised it as such too, and was surprised that one supposedly as righteous and good as Brenton would be using such evil powers. The intent was good, however, and with a last struggle the witch was first barricaded off, then finally with some intense effort from Arlyn, banished altogether. He felt her scrape at his mind to regain purchase but had learned enough from her about barriers, and now she was out there was no way for her to return again.

The dragon slumped weakly. He was unused to using his own body after so long being possessed, and that mental struggle had taken a lot out of him. His deep sapphire eyes gazed at the king. There was great sorrow in them, and pity too. "Thank you. They... they killed Grazael. I'm sorry. But what magic are you using? How are you able to turn into a dragon? It feels dark, Brenton, and I'm worried you might cause yourself serious harm," he was pleased to finally be able to voice his concern for Brenton. In truth, he was pretty certain Brenton had already caused himself serious harm. There was something distinctly inhuman about him. It reminded him of Rerukusu, and that terrified him because Reru had been insane and cruel and he didn't want his friend to end up like that.

The witch inside Isrydia was still holding up and saw that Arlyn was now her enemy. Between the two opponent she now faced, Arlyn was the weakest, so targeting him as a good plan. Plus if the king was going to take her down, she might as well cause as much pain as possible. Arlorven had already killed Grazael, so she could do Isrydia the same damage and kill her dragon, too. She supposed she could just kill Isrydia, but there was a chance she could beat Brenton or just flee and escape, and she would prefer to stay in the Rider's head. It would take ages to try finding another inexperienced, more academic than warrior Rider who had good connections like this one did.

Turning, Isrydia did not hesitate in sending a great plume of fire at Arlyn. He coughed at the smoke, and it delighted her to see how emotionally distraught he was to see his own Rider attack him. Her next fireball exploded on his leg, making it give way and blackening his ice blue scales with soot. He let out a miserable wail and took to the sky, refusing to attack his Rider back.

Isrydia felt his mind bore into hers, but the witch fought him off again and again. Brenton's spell was forcing her to once side, but she could still manage to control the woman. Grabbing a branch, she cast a levitation spell on it and clung on, flying up after Arlyn. "Come on, fight back!" she called, tearing a wing with a blow from Nettle. Arlyn howled in pain but still refused.

Bloodied, charred and broken inside and out, Arlyn finally cracked. He could just burn the branch, distract her, stop her attacking him... but he had never breathed fire before. He was old enough, perhaps, but... the first time he breathed fire should not be on his own Rider.

A jolt of electricity made his muscles spasm. Black fire whirled around them, Isrydia throwing some at her dragon. He turned his face towards her, opened his jaws, and a great plume of orange flames shot out at Isrydia. The flames washed over her, but she cast defensive spells and it was merely very uncomfortable for her. The dance continued, both parties attacking now. Arlyn would lunge and claw and once or twice breathed fire, never trying to kill, while Isrydia filled the air with black lightning, fire, and whirling jets of black ice and smoke as the pair fought among the clouds of magic.

[Brenton]

Brenton was standing on the ground, already drawing in a breath to answer Arlyn, when suddenly he felt the change in his surroundings ever so subtle. The ground shook as clouds built overhead with dark shadows cast below onto a land that was dry and barren enough to not know what rain was. In the clouds, cracks of lightning followed by peals of thunder with rain falling but the whole time he could feel heat growing. With desperate anger, Brenton let Vaentr have full control, something he could never afford himself to do on a normal day no matter what. Blue scales rippled over Brenton's skin just as wings ripped from his back and instead of the king, his original dragon was roaring into the heavens once again.

In the crystal, Brenton could sense all and still see through Vaentr's eyes but he was not in control anymore, not until the dragon gave up control to him. Dragons were notorious for liking freedom and this was one time that Vaentr was no different. Taking to the air, Vaentr let his wings snap open to catch the air where he could fly around.

Vaentr was not normally aggressive like this but magic had made him different and corrupted his feelings which made them amplified in times like this. The blue dragon roared again and in Vaentr's voice he bellowed into Isrydia's mind. YOU ATTACK YOUR DRAGON?!? I don't care if you are possessed or not! Brenton has gone to great lengths and risked many things to put blocks between you and that witch just for you to give up and attack someone who has been there for you. Is this really how you are going to thank Grazael, by killing Arlyn? Think about Sir William, would he be proud of someone who can't fight through possession?

Vaentr knew that some of his words were harsh and could be taken as insults but that was the point behind what he was saying. If he could anger Isrydia then maybe she would fight harder or if she got upset in any way for that matter. Also if the witch got angry then it was likely she would make a mistake and Isrydia or Arlyn could find a way through the possession.

[Quetzal]

The roar in Isrydia's mind made her feel guilty and upset, not angry. She disagreed with how furious Vaentr seemed at her for the actions of the witch, but it made her feel guilty at the same time that she had not been successful in ridding herself of the leech in her mind. Sir William would have understood that this witch was stronger than her. No matter how clever a trick she tried, the witch could see all her thoughts and would just prepare for the strategy she had planned. Brute force alone would decide this, and her force was not strong enough. Arlyn and Vaentr were joining with the force of her own mind and putting a lot of pressure on the witch, but still she was able to carry on flinging all sorts of evil spells at Arlyn.

Arlyn carried on defending himself, dodging and trying to disable his Rider. It was the worst thing he'd ever experienced without a doubt. Seeing her face twisted up in hate, that black magic from dark spellbooks creeping from her fingers to attack him. He decided that if he knocked her unconscious, the witch would be easier to beat. He wasn't sure how falling unconscious worked with possession. Would the real Isrydia be knocked out while the witch carried on? He had no way of knowing as he could not feel his Rider from where she was trapped in her mind. Either the witch would be knocked out too, or the body would shut down as if unconscious while the witch's mind was still active. That would at least stop her attacking anyone.

His long, thin tail whipped around, but Isrydia avoided it. This would prove difficult. The pair dodged one another's attacks, moving fluidly. Now Arlyn had his real mind back, he was more graceful and skilled moving through the air; the witch possessing him had not had as much experience with wings as he had, and was not a member of the Air Branch like he was. Finally he managed to deliver a heavy blow to Isrydia's head with his tail. He knew it would not cause serious damage, but from what he'd seen of her limits, it should have been enough to knock her out. Sure enough, the body went limp. The spells lingered but began to dissipate with no one renewing them. Isrydia was falling. Arlyn did not want to hurt her. He would have grabbed her in a paw, but his were too small so instead he let her land heavily on his back. It was a shorter fall than if she had fallen all the way to the ground.

Flying her down, Arlyn crouched and gently pushed Isrydia off his back with his tail. He rested a paw on her chest, lightly, but he would increase the pressure should she awake and struggle. Able to stay still, he could put every bit of his vast draconic mind into expelling the witch. Vaentr's force was much greater than his, but he was still trying so hard he was tiring himself. The real Isrydia had in fact lost consciousness with her body, but the witch was still angrily defending her mind even without the Rider connecting her to control the body. She couldn't see or hear or feel anything any more than the unconscious Isrydia could, but she was under enormous pressure to leave the young woman's head. She pushed back, but wasn't able to have much of an effect on the two dragons. She kept on struggling.

Arlyn had made the witch angry and annoyed. She wasn't able to concentrate so well on anything more than pushing with a bigger force than the dragons. She was losing. Their minds forced her back, and finally she had no choice but to stay still and hide behind walls. She was afraid then. Afraid because she knew that if she could not attack the dragons' minds, she would be unable to stop them attacking her and she couldn't wait them out forever. She loathed to think of what they might do to her. It took an awfully long time, but finally her barriers shatter. Arlyn kept up his pressure on her, picking through the witch's mind until she was well and truly beaten and had no choice but to leave for her own safety and sanity. Her mind began to ease off Isrydia's, and Arlyn gave it a helpful push that left it eradicated from her altogether. Quickly he saw his Rider's real mind unconscious and in no condition to protect itself, so he used his own mind to set up a barrier around it should the witch try sneaking back. "Vaentr, Brenton, she's hurt. The witch never gave her an easy ride. She's out cold now, but I don't know what state she'll be in when she wakes up," he was deeply concerned and anxious by this as he informed Vaentr or Brenton or both, he wasn't sure, about Isrydia's condition. He hoped the witch hadn't done anything to her. Attack and damage to the mind was one of the most dangerous things that could happen.

[Brenton]

As the battle came to an end and the witch was finally eradicated, the large blue dragon landed and a shimmering light of gold and blue glowed out around. When the light finally died away, Brenton stepped out of the area where Vaentr had been just a second previously. He brushed his hands off from the dirt and moved over to look at the fallen Isrydia who had passed out after the witch was being beaten in the end of the fight. Brenton knelt down next to the young rider and rested a hand over hers while he closed his eyes, knowing he had lost Grazael and nearly lost Isrydia and Arlyn as well. This was so much pain for a normal person that he could no longer experience, as well as being unable to weep in joy that he could feel the slight breaths of the girl on the ground.

Finally Brenton looked up and his expression was softer but still indiscernible with little to show for even grime from the fight. All that was left of the old king was his appearance, not his normal self-confident attitude or his often times spur of the moment impulsive decisions. Brenton was unlike himself now and yet he was glad of that because it meant that he could think clearly, most of the time, and save those he cared about.

Brenton brushed the blonde hair from Isrydia's face and smiled just slightly as he looked down at her, wondering if she was always so peaceful after being beat up mentally and physically. Of course when she woke up she would wonder why he was smiling and being so kind after just saying he would kill her but so be it. Thank you Isrydia, for being my friend and fighting the witch to the end. Now please come back to us so I don't have to hunt down witches who could be in the furthest reaches of the world. Brenton's voice was soft but not anywhere near as soft as when he leaned down and kissed Isrydia, just a simple brush of his lips against hers, before sitting back to wait for her to realize what had happened.

[Quetzal]

Arlyn felt more at ease with Brenton back in his normal half-elf form, feeling he was like to crush his Rider. He still worried for Isrydia. She wasn't stirring. Her breath was ragged but had the same rhythm as it did when she slept. Her mind, however, was mostly blocked to him. She had retreated within herself, locked away with strong barriers around. The little he could sense was fogged with unconsciousness, and he could not wake her. A wary eye watched Brenton as he knelt over Isrydia. The king was clearly not in his right mind, and the witch possessing Isrydia had had a part to play in the violent and dramatic death of his dragon just moments ago. There was no telling what he would do next. Arlyn felt edgy and uneasy, waiting to see if Brenton would help or hurt Isrydia.

The words made Arlyn feel happy that he and Isrydia had Brenton as a friend, but what happened next was something he felt less enthusiastic about. He'd thought that since Brenton had become so smitten with Rella in Ellesmera, he'd gone off Isrydia completely. He hoped that was still the case, and that this was just something else. A friend thing? That didn't seem right somehow. He gave Brenton a gentle flick with his tail, just enough to knock him back from Isrydia. "Watch it. Isrydia would not want you to do that. Just because she isn't able to push you away doesn't mean you can do it." his warning wasn't too harsh, but he made it clear that he would do everything he could to avoid any uncomfortable situations for his Rider. It would make her upset for Brenton to act like that again when she'd thought they'd just got through it.

"She's still not waking up. Her mind won't respond to me," he said sadly.

[Brenton]

Brenton chuckled as he stepped away from Isrydia more but flashed a meaningful baring of his teeth over at the dragon to show he would not be afraid of fighting if need be. I do not intend to do anything more than that and even didn't wish to kiss her the first time because of Rella. It is just that if Isrydia dies then I don't know what would happen in my life, aside from the fact that I would hunt down the witches and kill them with a rusty dagger. She is a friend and someone that I care about but I would never try to force myself upon her or anything like that because I respect her too much. Arlyn you should know me better than that anyhow since you were there when I fell in love with Rella and fought for her love so desperately.

The elf king watched Isrydia while he tried to think of what could be wrong. She was bound to be tired and at her mind's limit for what she could handle, so rest could be what she needed. At the same time injuries may have occurred and she would need healing if he did not do something quickly. With a sigh, the elf king stepped cautiously toward the girl and thought over the wording of what he was about to do. In the Ancient Language he began to sing, soft at first but growing in pitch while sounding like the rustle of the leaves when the wind blew. The song was about friendship and trust, love and fear, as well as about healing what wounds existed spiritually mentally and physically. He infused the words with energy to turn it into a spell while drawing energy and giving it to Isrydia as well as the spell.