my touch is power
When he wasn’t playing necromancer, Thaeron always loved to be the hero. It was an undeniable quality in him that both irked some and pleased others. It was never because the warrior considered his companions incapable- in fact he often surrounded himself with equally strong people. It was simply that some innate part of him, some wild recklessness that burnt like a forest fire in his veins when the silent drums of war sounded, bade him save others. Call it selfishness if you want, but he would always be the first to fight, the first to jump in.
Too engrossed in the fight, the thrum of his heart in his ears, in tandem to the pounding of his hooves against scales, Thaeron did not consider why Lucinda was helping the other dragon. Vaguely in the back of his mind the steed heard the clink of chains as the winged mare attempted to remove the confinements.
In Alanaris, Thaeron would fight whatever he was paid to fight. Kill whatever he was paid to kill. Besides shapeshifters and mermaids of course. But that was far from glamorous work. More often than not he served as protection, hired muscle to criminals or hunters, or an expendable sword if the royal armies didn’t want to lose their own. It was a far cry from leading battles, surrounded by the bodies of his enemies, at the head of armies of thousands. Gods he missed his glory days. But perhaps he was out of practice- a dragon presented a far greater challenge than peasants wielding pitchforks or bandits with clubs. More likely he was just overly cocky, trying to impress the ebony woman behind him.
Either way, it cost him dearly.
As the pain ricocheted from his ankle to his knee, searing every nerve, the snap of bone and tear of flesh was sickeningly audible. And the silence that followed the dragon’s demise was even worse. As the adrenalin slowly subsided, the sounds of the short lived battle quieted. Thaeron’s eyes still gleamed with anger and mirth but they were dulling as the blood slowly ebbed from his leg and the pain filtered in properly. A growl left his lips, followed by a string of colourful curse words that would make even the most foul-mouthed sailor gag. Luckily they were not in the common tongue and no one but the fallen God knew what blasphemy he had uttered. The world took on a sort of shining quality as it tilted and spun from the loss of blood, almost akin to being drunk. He might have laughed were the circumstances different. As it was his breath was coming out in rough growls, his chest heaving as he fought the pain.
Thaeron didn’t hear Lucinda approach over the roaring in his ears and the headache that was slowly developing. “Can you move it?”Teeth bared in an ugly grimace, eyes narrowed, he bit back the pain long enough to move his thigh. Only… his calf stayed where it way, lying in a growing pool of blood. The stallion’s face slackened, his eyes growing wide as the realisation hit him. “It’s…it’s not moving.” Aghast, the words were fumbled, stumbling from dry lips. Thaeron was not unfamiliar with gruesome word wounds. He’d seen worse. He’d inflicted worse. But right now he felt sick to his stomach. He needed to staunch the bleeding, he needed to… he needed too. He couldn’t think properly.
The sounds of the metal chains is a blessed distraction and he focuses on that, watching the dragon with too-bright eyes. “I take it you two know each other?” His words are a feeble attempt at a joke, especially when they come out more gruffly than the stallion had intended. Strength waning, Bloodbane rises unsteadily from the sand, stain freshly red. Poised to strike the metal, the weapon shakes as his concentration fades. “Perhaps you should do it?” He offers the hilt to her, worried that he might cut more than metal in this state.
At the mare’s soft acknowledgment, Thaeron meets her gaze- his clouded by pain. “My pleasure,” he says dryly, in too much pain to give her more than a half-hearted smile. Perhaps they could both be thankful the shock was preventing him from coming to terms with exactly what he had just lost, otherwise his mood might have been far less pleasant. “Perhaps we can get out of here now?”
@Lucinda <3
