The Guardian Dragon

The Fight

“Get out! This is my territory!” I snarl at him as he approaches. He returns my hostility with a sly smirk, his pointed teeth betraying his true form. I could rip him to shreds when he’s like this, but Derrek is well known as one of the fastest shape changers. I also wouldn’t want to have to explain the fight to the Guardians; they wouldn’t be pleased.

“Ooh debating whether or not to tear me to shreds, well I guess this might change your mind.” He reaches out his neck and curves his back slightly as his form quickly elongates. Hard maroon red scales replace the soft pink skin of a human. His face gets longer as the flatness of a human’s disappears. Fingernails turn into deadly sharp claws, while his short brown hair recedes and is replaced by dominating jet-black horns. A tail extends from his back, powerfully sweeping across the ground as he reaches up and roars. The sound vibrates through the trees, causing the birds to leave the safety of their nests in a reckless mob to escape this great creature that has appeared. 

I reach up and roar back, causing another flurry of startled animals to run for cover. My roar is less powerful than his, but that doesn’t make it any less menacing. I scrape my gleaming sliver claws against the ground, making deep gauges in the earth. My deep sapphire blue eyes gleam with anger as he begins laughing in the deep rumbling of the dragons.

“So it’s a fight you want? Well guess what, I’m not gonna fight a female, so go find another dragon to pick a fight with.”

“You started this!” I growl back at him, his insolent joking manner of dealing with my threats is beginning to get under my skin. “Every single time I tell you to leave me alone, you just come back to annoy me with your endless disrespect for my territorial bounds!”

“Nobody cares Raïnia! There is nothing you can do about it except for push me out by force, and we both know who would win in a fight.” His ruby red eyes glow maliciously, “And despite the fact I already said I won’t fight you, that doesn’t mean I can’t act out of self-defense.”

“Get out Derrek! This is your last warning.” I will not waiver in my resolve, giving in is admitting defeat, and I can never let him win. “If I ever find you here again, I will not shy away from attacking without warning.”

“You know that’s against the rules.”

“You mention the rules to me now? After you have broken almost every single one of them, you dare to tell me not to!” His hypocrisy is the last straw.

I leap onto him, digging my claws into his chest, he roars in outrage before reaching his neck around to bite me. I see it coming though, so I let go, spread my wings and leap into the air. He looks at me with rage, all joking gone. I have attacked him; he is entitled to revenge. He opens his own wings, a bright fiery red, and launches himself into the sky. He is much heavier, so he strains against gravity for a few seconds before the magic kicks in and he is free of its pull. He is distracted for a second as he gains altitude, so I take the opportunity to ram my tail into his side. He loses his balance and flails around in the air for a second before regaining his place. He reaches out with his neck and grabs ahold of one of my feet with his powerful jaws, dragging me down to his level. I bellow with pain as he bites down harder, his sharp white teeth digging into my flesh. I quickly reorient myself before sweeping underneath him, loosing his hold on my foot. I yank it hard and he lets go. I swipe him with my tail again, less powerful this time, but still effective in distracting him. I fly over until I am right above him, before I tuck in my wings and wrap my forelegs firmly around his chest. The extra weight sends him plummeting to the ground. In the explosion of dirt and trees that occurs when he hits the ground, I use him to cushion my impact. He is temporarily disoriented from falling out of the sky, so I take the opportunity to pin him down against the ground, making it impossible for him to get up. His roars of anger at being defeated reverberate trough the air. He fights against my hold, but the struggle is useless. I have won.