The Dragon Prince - Soren x reader (f)

- Dead To The Living's Land -

Dragons.

Men.

Elves.

Creatures.

All are released from that spawn point in the lake. But these are no ordinary people or beasts that dwell in Xadian lands. No, these horrible animals that soar above and monsters that cry out are like nothing I have ever witnessed. For the dragons, their once vibrant and beautiful scales have been turned black and grey. Even those who would have once appeared human have become rotting corpses. The terrible things that can't fly choose to crawl onto the shore; the lake birthing the evil masses.

Everything that is set free from the crater is darkness and misery reincarnated. Death itself has joined us.

I twist to see the reactions on my friend's faces. Most of them are stuck in their place, but Soren has managed to turn around. He is fighting the charm. His willpower is strong. Unfortunately it will not be strong enough. I see the way his expression is already contorting in the torment of his physical strain. Moreover, this viewpoint will only add to his anxious agony.

Then just as quickly as death's mouth opened, the shooting light stops.

The shadows that emerged disappear into the sky. Majority of them head for a different destination to where their fight is needed. But I recognise the slow creep of those down below, as well as the beasts that linger in the air around the mountain. One ghoul in particular floats directly for our group on the top. He lands gracefully - a stark contrast to his terrifying appearance - and immediately takes a knee before Aaravos. The Startouch Elf whispers incoherent orders in the ghost's ear. Then he does something that I don't expect.

Aaravos gives him the staff.

The wooden stick and mystical orb within are stolen away by this ghoul. The creature turns, taking a running leap off the cliff edge. But he doesn't fall, or fly. A dragon comes swooping from under below, catching the ghost on his shadowed back.

"Now," Aaravos turns to face me but I'm preoccupied with following that ghoul's path around the lake. He's circling it. Why is he staying here? To keep the portal open? To protect the Primal stone? "What do I do with you?" Aaravos asks rhetorically as he approaches me.

His free hands come up to my face, holing me there and knowing I can't shake off his disgusting touch. "You're insane!" I yell.

Uncomfortable screeches fill our atmosphere. All Aaravos does is chuckle deeply. He shakes his head at me, still evidently disappointed that I'm not on his side. "You just haven't lost enough to understand," he tells me - for not the first time. "You and your weak human side that controls your true power."

My true power? "How would you know anything about my power?!" I exclaim. Aaravos shrugs his shoulders before turning on his heel. He strolls back over to Claudia. Again, whispers are exchanged between two people that I cannot hear and desperately want to. Claudia does not need to cast a spell for her next move. No, the wings that grow from her back are nothing like Callum's feathered arms. These dark limbs seem to be a part of her. With them, she leaves. "You're right. I don't understand," I tell Aaravos. He no longer watches me, his focus on his children of death still in our area. My blood boils. Determination rises within me. "But I am not weak!"

Ultimately, I don't know what leads me to break Aaravos' hold. Perhaps it is my own strength, fighting for myself and those I love still near me. Maybe he lets me go, and I'm working to his plan like a pawn in this great game. I don't care what it is. I don't hesitate.

My sword drives straight through Aaravos's neck.

Blood drips from the back and I thrive in picturing the way it is gurgling from his mouth. With Claudia gone, the others will soon come out of their frozen spell. But I couldn't wait. I remove my blade, slamming through his back to where I know his heart would lie. Aaravos continues to choke on his blood. He falls to his knees, twisting with the little energy he has remaining in order to lock eyes with me. I take my sword out once and for all, sheathing it again. "This form... is but a vessel," Aaravos mumbles. I want to see him burn in pain and agony. I should have known not to get those hopes up.