Draven Ashborne's Arc

Chapter 18 of 17

The sun dropped low. Draven's palm stayed pressed to Valxara's wound, and the coal of holy light behind his ribs burned thinner every hour. Then Valxara's eyes rolled white. Her body went slack. When she spoke again, her voice came wrong. Low. Doubled. The poison had reached her mind. "Draven," she said. Her red eye found him and slid away. "It's cold. It's talking." Her claws dug into the dead soil. Purple veins crawled up her neck toward her jaw. She was the corrupted dragon he had chosen to trust, the one who held open a fissure without turning feral to save Aurelius. Now the rot was taking that from her. "Stay with me," Draven said. "Aurelius is coming with the cure." "He is not here." Her breath hissed between her teeth. "If I turn, kill me. Do not wait." She turned her head away. "That is not a request." Draven kept his hand on the wound. He could not chase the poison in her blood with his blade. The cleansing power was spent. He had only Aurelius's failing light and his own two hands, and neither could reach her mind. He watched the veins climb. Then the ground shook. Something moved beneath the shoots. A vast segmented body broke the surface, chitin plates green and purple, a hundred legs tearing dirt. The centipede reared. Its jaws opened wide enough to swallow her whole. The poison in Valxara had called it, the way the raven had come. Draven had a choice, and no time to weigh it. If he let go to fight, the rot would race for her heart. If he held, the centipede would take them both. A shadow crossed the beast. The winged cat dropped from the sky, black wings snapping, barbed tail lashing. It raked the centipede's eye. The creature screamed and turned. Behind the cat came Aurelius on the antlerwolf, blade raised, four flasks strapped to his chest. "Hold her!" Aurelius shouted. He leapt down and drove his charged blade into the centipede's skull. Light burst white through its head. The beast shuddered and collapsed across the shoots. Aurelius fell to his knees beside Valxara. He uncorked a flask and forced it between her teeth. "Briar refilled them," he said. "Drink." Valxara swallowed. Nothing changed. The doubled voice still muttered. Her red gaze cleared and fixed on Draven's hand, still pressed to her wound. "You can let go now," she said. Flat. Resigned. Draven lifted his palm. The rot did not leave. The elixir was too late. He sat back in the dirt, chest hollow, the last of the holy light guttering out behind his ribs. Valxara breathed shallow and rasped. “At least I will see my mate again. I corrected what he did.” Her head lowered weakly. “But the start of all the corruption still exists. An ancient evil that exists. You will only end it when everyone comes together and harnesses their powers.” Aurelius offered the only kindness left. He soothed her to sleep so her final moments were pain free. A wise and fierce dragon parted from the world.