#caelignis

Another of Valkor's howling cries echoed through the air. Ramoth could smell the blood now, too much of it to be from one fight.

What had Valkor gotten himself into?

Ramoth stayed near the cover of the clouds as he flew nearer: if nothing else, he hoped to have some advantage of surprise. She shook his head to himself. No, who was he kidding? He was half blind, for goodness' sake! What chance would he stand against Morsen, if it came to that?

No. No, he wouldn't think like that, not now. He needed to focus. Valkor had saved his life once, now it was Ramoth's turn to repay that debt. He could rebuke Valkor for his foolishness later. For now, he just needed to find him.

The first glimpse of sunrise stretched over the horizon, reaching up with slender fingers of warm, golden light to grasp the sky and wipe away the clouds. Ramoth watched it for a moment, ignoring the pang of bitter nostalgia in his chest as he marvelled briefly at how the horrible gloom of night came alive with the hope of a new dawn. He felt that hope, however fleeting it was. There was a chance, he told himself. A chance that they could all make it out of this alive. He clung to that.

By now, the cacophony of battle had fused into one amalgamation of noise, making it almost impossible to distinguish any individual sounds. He was close, that much he knew. Ramoth dipped from the clouds, just far enough to see the land.

Drakes swarmed the air below him, swooping and diving, screeching and howling as they fought amongst themselves. In the middle of the chaos, down on the ground, Godzilla barreled into Morsen, roaring as he threw the drake into the dirt. Morsen quickly recovered from the blow, scrambling back to his feet and landing a firm bite on Godzilla's throat. A familiar shade of yellow streaked towards the two, crashing into Morsen's side with enough force to make him release his hold. Godzilla's dorsal plates began to glow, but at a command from Morsen, some half a dozen drakes swarmed the alpha and forced his attention away.

Ramoth needed to do something. Just as Morsen threw Valkor across the battlefield, Ramoth tucked in his wings and dove.

This was borderline insanity, but what other choice did he have?

He crashed against Morsen's shoulder. The impact sent a horrible jolt up his legs and through to his spine, but he paid it no mind.

Ramoth wasted no time in clamping his jaws shut around Morsen's head. He sank his talons deep into Morsen's flesh, feeling hit blood run over his feet. With a sharp jerk of his head, Morsen slung Ramoth from his back, who barely managed to keep himself standing.

Morsen's eyes widened for a moment as he looked down at Ramoth. "So," he growled. "You're still alive."

He lunged forward. Ramoth narrowly dodged Morsen's jaws as they closed on thin air. He ducked down, charging forward and shoving Morsen back, taking the opportunity to go for his outstretched wing. Ramoth snatched part of the membrane between his teeth and pulled with all the strength he could muster. The wet, sickly sound of tearing skin filled his ears, and a large flap of the membrane came away, leaving the bone of the lower part of the innermost digit exposed.

With a twisted, disgusting twinge of satisfaction, Ramoth knew that Morsen could not hope to fly now.

A concentrated jet of fire sprung from Morsen's mouth, leaving Ramoth with only a split second the throw up a wing to protect himself. Drakes could withstand the heat of their own fires, that was no secret, but everything has its limits. There was a screech, the thump of an impact, and then the fire ceased. Ramoth couldn't focus on anything other than the searing tingle of his wing as the charred skin smoked and the frantic pulse in his head.

He risked a glance back at Morsen to find Valkor clinging to Morsen's side, slashing and biting and tearing at anything he could get a hold of.

Ramoth gritted his teeth against the pain and lunged at Morsen once again, finding a strong purchase for his teeth around the drake's throat. He ignored the way the feathery fur on Morsen's neck almost suffocated him. Ramoth jerked his head once, then twice, then thrice, listening to the snapping of muscle as he yanked away the flesh. An enormous wing swatted him away before he could do anything else, knocking the air from his lungs.

Valkor was gone when Ramoth managed to look back, thrown once again onto the ground, bleeding heavily and barely able to stand. He shouted something, but Ramoth couldn't hear it.

Morsen's jaws closed around Ramoth's neck. He must have flanked his blind side. Ramoth opened his mouth - to roar, to gasp, to do something - but no sound came out. His lungs screamed for the air he couldn't draw in. Dark spots began clouding the remainder of his vision.

He was vaguely aware of being flung down, the newfound release of his throat only giving him enough breath the hack up the coppery taste of blood.

Something slammed onto his chest. He felt his ribs buckle and snap under the pressure.

It occurred to him then: where was Godzilla? Wasn't he - ?

A feeble glance around the bloodshed told him everything he needed to know. Godzilla, the fearless alpha of the kaiju, had fled.

Through his ever-darkening sight, he looked up at Morsen with every morsel of anger and seething rage he had. Nothing but contempt and disgust awaited him in Morsen's gaze as he reared back, bloody maw open.

Ramoth couldn't fight anymore. Was this how Ddraig felt, too? Beaten, broken, bloodied? Did he also feel his life slowly slipping from his heartbeat, growing weaker with each pulse?

A commotion caught his attention, and he looked to where Valkor struggled against someone.

He wished he hadn't.

Caelignis' wide, terrified eyes were the last thing Ramoth ever saw.

Sat on the shore of a lake, Ramoth watched on as Caelignis and Eagon chased each other and splashed around in the water. No-one was even the slightest bit concerned of anyone's wings getting too wet to fly, since the sun was high and warm enough in the sky to dry them off by the time evening would come around. 

Emrys had left that morning to find Rodan - she said she saw other drakes, from the Eyrie, circling around the area lately, not many, just a few, and wanted to ask the volcanic kaiju if he knew of anything. Valkor thought it best to search for himself if there were others. That left Ramoth and his one working eye to watch the children. 

He'd never hold any complaints about having this job, mind. He was a father, and that meant it was part of his daily responsibilities; it also meant he could be there to watch his daughter grow up (even now she was already nearing  the end of her years of adolescence), and he couldn't ask for much more than that. 

Still, some part of his mind nagged him to take some degree of action, like going off to scout with Emrys and Valkor. But the more sensible part of him knew that him leaving would put Caelignis and Eagon's safety at risk. They were each perfectly capable of caring for themselves at this point, but Ramoth was not going to take that chance.

Instead, he let his focus wander between the two young drakes playing their games in the shallower water and the ripples of the lake. Underneath the surface, tiny flecks of light darted in and out of the translucent shadows. Small fish which, to Ramoth, were hardly any different to the ground beneath them. He continued to watch the creatures as they idly went about their business, blissfully unaware of the world outside of their lake. At one point, Ramoth caught a glimpse of a slightly larger shape in the water; darker, too. As it slowly grew larger, the splashing and games from the children ceased entirely.

"Dad?" Caelignis called out.

Ramoth looked up to see her and Eagon staring upwards towards the clouds. Following their gazes, he realised that the shadow in the water was really a silhouette in the sky. A silhouette that was moving rapidly towards them. 

"Get out of the water and stay behind me." Ramoth rose to his feet and moved himself between the shape and the young drakes. 

A grey drake landed harshly a few places away from them. 

"Well, well, well," the stranger sneered, revealing a row of jagged fangs. "This is certainly a surprise."

"Who are you?" Ramoth growled. 

"A scout."

"For what?"

"Our king's command."

Ramoth felt a vicious heat rising in his chest and throat. He spoke through gritted teeth. "Morsen is no king of mine."

The stranger chuckled. 

"Of course, how could I forget, Prince of Treason?"

Ramoth stood a little taller, baring his teeth  as he hissed: "Leave, scout. I will give you this one chance."

"Now why should I? Your head would make for a valuable prize." Ramoth noticed the stranger's gaze flick to Caelignis and Eagon. "I shouldn't let your spawn go free, either."

The stranger reared up into his hind legs and, wings spayed outwards, half-ran and half-flew in a charge at Ramoth. He was significantly larger and stronger than the grey drake, and so he clamped his jaws around the stranger's neck and hurled him towards the water, where crashed in the shallows. The stranger picked himself up and lunged again. This time, he leapt upwards, slashing with his talons at Ramoth's torso. 

Ramoth threw him off by the shoulder. When the drake landed in a heap on his back, Ramoth raised one foot and brought it down on the stranger's wing.

Hard.

A sickly snap filled Ramoth's ears as the drake below him hissed and screeched. 

"I gave you a chance to flee," he said lowly. "You threatened me and my own. You decided your fate."

The grey drake opened his mouth as if to say something, but Ramoth cut him off. He snatched the other's throat in his jaws and wrenched to the side. 

Another rapid series of snaps, and the grey drake's body went limp. Dead. 

Ramoth turned back towards Caelignis and Eagon. "Are you two alright?"

The both nodded without a word.

"Good," he continued. Approaching them, he nudged them both away from the scene. "We should leave here, get you to home where it's safe."

"Can you fly?" Eagon piped up. When Ramoth shot him a quizzical look, he nodded to Ramoth's left wing. 

It stung as he unfurled it. He smelled the blood before he properly saw it. 

Two thin slashes marked the membrane between his elbow and first digit. They had both torn through the flesh, but the bleeding was already subsiding. 

"I'll be fine," Ramoth replied. "It might slow me down a little, but it looks worse than it is."

After some further encouragement to the two young drakes, all three took to the sky in the direction of home. When they arrived, they found Valkor already in the cave, nursing a series of scrapes and a few harsh gashes. Ramoth and the children sat beside him.

"You too?" Valkor asked.

"Believe it or not."

It was almost sundown by the time Emrys returned to the cave, sporting a few scrapes herself. They exchanged a gloomy look, each knowing what the other was thinking. Without a word, Emrys nestled in beside Ramoth as he draped his wing over her. The five of them made idle conversation, not directly addressing the events of the day (they would have that conversation when the children weren't near enough to hear it), until, one by one, everyone had fallen asleep. 

Everyone, except Ramoth.