Dance of the Dragon (3)
Ashtien realized it through the shadow. The moment the dragon's claws cast their shadow down over their heads, and the moment the boy, sensing the danger, gripped his sword — a single thought crystallized in her mind.
Yes. That's how it was.
At Vesta's waist, held tight against her own, something was burning hot. The twin blade at her hip, the mirror of his, was burning just the same. Both swords were trembling violently, as though caught in a raging wind.
"Now I understand."
The reason Vesta, a mere human, could wield spirit magic.
Because he was a special human?
Vesta was certainly a remarkable boy. Earning the recognition of a Great Spirit was not a privilege granted to just anyone — least of all to a human.
But was that truly the only reason?
Or was it the sword?
Yes. The twin blades Ashtien had gifted him were no ordinary weapons. They had to carry a magic of their own.
A special sword, yes. But Vesta's flame is more special still. The sword's power alone could never have made it.
The magic laid upon those blades had been of an entirely different kind from the start. Not magic that breathed fire or commanded spirits. Nothing like that.
The sword had joined Ashtien and Vesta together. That was the magic.
"It's a miracle."
Or perhaps fate. The sword passed to Ashtien. Then Vesta appeared, and Ashtien passed it on to him. And she opened her heart to him. The sword recognized it — perhaps even before Ashtien herself did.
The sword carried the Khan's wind to the child who held the ember, and from the two of them, it made a fire.
"From our very beginning until this moment — all of it was a miracle."
Vesta drew his sword. Sparks scattered. It would not be enough to stop the dragon's strike.
The fire looked like it needed wind.
Sreeeung—
"We stand on the same battlefield, so we fight together."
She drew the twin blade, identical to Vesta's own.
A fierce gale surged upward, and the gale joined with the flame Vesta had made. Together they became a searing firestorm. Intense heat followed in its wake.
—!
"Ugh!"
The dragon's roar hammered against Vesta's ears. But he did not drop his sword, and he did not close his eyes.
I'm not afraid.
[Carry the Khan's blade, and you shall fear neither darkness nor anything else.]
He would fear nothing. Not because he carried the Khan's blade.
[Are you afraid of the dark?]
Just as Ashtien had once told him, in that wilderness that stretched on forever.
[You don't have to be afraid.]
"As long as I am at your side, fear nothing."
Now, Vesta was fighting alongside Ashtien. The condition had been met. He resolved to fear nothing at all.
Today, Vesta would save thousands of centaurs. He would defend the Steppe.
And he would protect Ashtien.
Having sworn that much, he had no reason left to fear a dragon.
The dragon's violent wingbeats shook the momentum of the flames.
"Kgh!"
"It's gripping with its claws."
Beating its wings with renewed force, the dragon climbed higher. Huri clung on with relentless persistence. He refused to give the beast any distance.
"That's right. Stay on it. The moment we fall behind, the fire will burn everything to ash."
The dragon twisted its head, tracking Huri's movements — and that gave Vesta the chance to see its eyes.
He studied the long, vertically slit pupils with careful attention, drawing on an ability honed through face-offs with countless beasts.
Vesta read the dragon's emotions.
It's wary of the fire. Why? Why would a dragon fear flame?
A fire dragon worried about fire. Even contradictions had their limits.
A beast that breathes flame hot enough to scorch the earth has no business being afraid of fire.
Their scales and hide could withstand flame. Even the delicate membranes of their wings.
If they couldn't, how could any of them dare breathe fire into a sky where the wind raged like this?
If the fire wavered even slightly, it would burn its own wings away.
The dragon had already breathed fire countless times. She had proven her own immolation to the world.
The dragon was a creature free of flame.
Even though fire cannot kill it. Even knowing that, it's this wary. Why?
"What are you brooding about?"
"Give me a moment."
Finding a beast's weakness was Vesta's finest talent. Calling it a gift would have been more accurate — the gift that had once let a child's body bring down a man-eating bear.
What am I missing?
The dragon's reaction was the surest clue. No emotion came without a reason — and fear least of all.
"...I've got it."
Vesta broke the silence, certainty written across his face.
"Ashtien. Can you get us toward its head?"
"I can. But I don't think that's a wise idea."
Ashtien answered while threading the eagle through a dangerous aerobatic turn.
"The closer we get to its head, the harder it becomes to dodge the fire."
Her concern was sound.
There was exactly one reason the two of them had yet to meet the dragon's breath head-on: Ashtien and Huri had flown with their eyes fixed on every movement of the dragon's head.
Vesta knew that too, but he still chose his words carefully, hoping to persuade her.
Ashtien will understand.
She was a hunter beyond compare, one who knew exactly how to bring down great beasts. Without a lengthy explanation, she would grasp his meaning.
"The dragon is wary of our fire, Ashtien. A creature that no flame in existence can harm."
"Hmm."
Ashtien narrowed her eyes in thought. She did not dismiss his words. Vesta was no hunter, but he was a beast-slayer skilled enough to earn her respect.
When something is guarded against beyond all reason, it usually means that thing once brought it harm.
A fire dragon, wounded by fire? An absurd notion. But suppose it were true.
"Then the culprit would be another dragon. The only flame a dragon would ever need to fear is one of its own kind."
O dragon. Did your kin breathe fire at you? Is that memory ruling you even now?
"But it couldn't have been wounded by the flame itself. Dragonfire can't even burn a dragon's own hide. There'd be no special reason to—"
No dragon's breath had ever scorched the flesh of its kin.
Then why did it strike with a pointless attack?
Ashtien's eyes flashed.
"I see it. Its breath."
"Yes."
Even if the flames could not burn its body, fire was a weapon without equal. It consumed air and oxygen by its very nature.
A dragon with fire searing its face could not breathe, no matter what it tried.
Ashtien caught up to Vesta's line of thought.
"When dragons kill their own kind, they breathe flame to induce suffocation. Therefore they are extremely wary of great fires. Is that your hypothesis?"
"That's my guess."
They wouldn't even need to aim for suffocation. By Ashtien's reasoning, the dragon could not stay airborne for long — and with its breathing thrown into disarray, even less so.
"If I'm right, we can bring the dragon down to the ground."
"...That's a reckless, violent plan."
Even as she said it, she was grinning.
"I like it."
Ashtien pulled Vesta tighter against her and stroked Huri's neck.
Kweeee—
Huri, understanding Ashtien's request, began to climb sharply — toward the most dangerous place in the world, the dragon's head.
Naturally, the dragon did not wait politely for them. Its long neck writhed through the air.
"Here it comes."
White-hot fire raced up along the dragon's throat. It looked nothing short of a volcano wearing the shell of a living creature. Power enough to burn the world condensed before Vesta's eyes. And then—
KWAAAAAAAH—
"Kgh—!"
Ashtien and Huri banked with their lives on the line. The scorching heat screamed past their flank.
That was far too close.
The farther the distance, the wider the cone of flame spread. Had they not been fast enough — had they hesitated for even a heartbeat — the two of them would have fallen from the sky in flames.
Ashtien shouted at the top of her lungs.
"Vesta, ready yourself! From now on, we fight the dragon's way!"
Yes. This was a battle against a dragon, so they had to fight by its rules.
Vesta extended his blade. Sparks scattered. Ashtien's wind drank them in. Just as Ashtien held Vesta close, the flame and the wind held each other close.
A storm was born — a searing firestorm.
Will it reach?
It could not compare to the dragon's own fire.
And yet.
"We hit it!"
It was more than enough to seal the dragon's nostrils shut.
KUOOOOOOOH—!
The dragon let out a low bellow. That alone made their bodies shudder; it was enough to drop a heart straight into the pit of the stomach.
"My body...!"
Vesta's face twisted in pain. Ashtien drove him on.
"Don't stop!"
The two of them poured out flame with everything they had. A raging torrent of fire engulfed the dragon's face.
The dragon could not keep its eyes open, and its breathing had stopped. It was inhaling fire instead of air.
"Fall to the earth, dragon!"
Ashtien — the Khan — commanded.