Power Pt.3 (Xaden Riorson x Reader)
(Credits to @thecutestgrotto for the dividers)
Power: Part One, Part Two, Part Three
Summary: During a siege in Samara, even the strongest can fall...
Content Warnings: Cursing, POV switch, violence, cliffhanger, set in Iron Flame, yes I know the ending is rushed.
Author's Note: Hello! I'm alive! I'm so sorry for the sudden month of silence, the new semester has been kicking my butt and I got like 50% writer's block. But anyway, I'm back and I have like three different drafts I'm currently working on, so there's more coming soon! (Also did you see the book 4 announcement? I'm so excited!!!)
(1.8k words)
A captain was sending his drift out to die.
He didn’t know this of course, and if he had known what was waiting for them at his target, he certainly wouldn’t have considered attacking that outpost in a million years.
The wind whipped through the feathers and fur of his griffon as they flew out towards the Esben Mountains.
Just as they crossed the border into Navarre, the captain noticed something strange happening in the sky around them.
Misty gray clumps of cloud were materializing right in front of them, as if rolled into a snowball by an invisible hand. More started populating the sky until the drift was forced to fly lower in order to not travel through an endless expanse of gray.
Strange, the captain thought. The outpost didn’t have a storm wielder, at least not according to their sources.
The clouds started to darken, as if shadows had started bleeding from its heart and were spreading through its body until all of them looked like a bad omen.
The captain knew exactly what type of clouds they were — storm clouds.
Soon enough both he, his drift and their griffons were soaking wet and irritated.
The weather was anything but natural, made by a calculating hand and though it would not deter them, it certainly slowed down the drift and gave the enemy more time to prepare.
By the time the drift had reached the Samara outpost, the rain had let up, although the dark clouds had remained — a dark blanket choking the last bit of sunlight until the soon-to-be battlefield was swathed in darkness.
A figure was standing outside the doors of the outpost. The storm wielder maybe, the captain thought. Her posture was unnervingly calm, as if she already knew the results of the battle to come and was just waiting to see how quickly the drift would fall.
“Turn around, Captain,” her voice traveled in the gusting wind, swirling around his ears tauntingly, “while you still have your crew.” The sound was like honey, sweet and smooth, although he knew it was laced with poison.
The Captain didn’t hesitate, still continuing to drive the drift forward, all the while something snaked around his heart and squeezed. Foreboding.
“Oh well,” the woman said, although her voice held not a note of disappointment. “I warned you.”
The landscape ahead grew darker, like a wave of shadow rolled over the shore of the outpost, and the woman simply vanished as if she herself was made of smoke and myth.
The whole thing felt wrong, like someone had changed the rules of the world without his knowledge.
The Captain signaled to his drift and they broke formation, each in different directions until they surrounded the outpost.
He waited for the drop, the first sign of the riders inside ready to fight for their outpost.
And found nothing but eerie silence.
His fliers glanced at him confused, this was not going according to plan.
They waited, waited, waited.
Until a heart-stopping sound shattered the silence.
The undeniable roar of a dragon shook the sky, a sound of pure wrath and fury.
The Captain’s blood froze in his veins, his heart dropping into his stomach as he saw the rest of his crew turn white in fear.
The last thing he saw was his lieutenant open her mouth to scream before everything went dark.
“Thirty-six griffins,” I told Xaden as I strode back into the outpost.
The sound of boots echoed all around as infantry started filing out of the building and into the field ahead.
The noise outside bled into the halls as he and I ran up towards the towers — sounds of wings flapping, the screeches of dragon and griffin alike and human screams, shouts and cries.
The sounds of our two sets of footsteps ricocheted off the stone walls as we raced up the stairs towards the turret.
Without having to look back I knew a third had joined us, but I didn’t have time to slow.
“This plan is risky,” the person said, Lieutenant Colonel Degrensi, the commander of the outpost.
“With all due respect, it’s a little too late to be questioning the plan now,” I replied.
We climbed up the last few steps and the wind of the storm whipped past my flight jacket, the cold seeping through the fabric.
“This is the closest fliers had ever gotten to the outpost in decades!” Degrensi insisted, following us up to the roof.
“Then you’ll have to trust the dragons to go through with the plan,” Xaden replied as I scanned the sky for a familiar green glint.
“Where are you?” I asked Hinvyre, walking towards the edge.
“Thirty seconds out,” she replied and I hope that her calm tone reflected well on the plan’s execution.
“There is too much at stake!” He continued, his voice got lost in the winds so I commanded them to die down.
“Colonel, I understand that infantry and riders don’t particularly get along, but in order for this strategy to work, we must work with each other,” I said. “Which means trusting one another.”
“Twenty seconds.”
“I trust that your men can take out the fliers we bring to the ground.” I stepped up onto the turret, out in the distance I could see Hinvyre flying towards us at a fast speed. “I need you to trust that we can take out the griffins for your men.”
Degrensi looked towards Xaden, who stepped up on the turret. “Do you trust her?”
“Ten seconds.”
He looked at me then, with a steadiness that let all of the anxiety fizzle from my mind. Despite the darkness of the clouds I had made overhead, I could see the sureness in his eyes, the absolute confidence in my abilities. It was dizzying and reassuring all at once, to see his faith even after the three years we’d been together.
“I do,” he replied, short and simple yet there was so much more in his onyx eyes.
I gave him a smile, one of gratitude and love — trying to convey so much more in the split seconds we had left.
“Five seconds.”
“This better fucking work,” Degrensi muttered.
“It will,” I said, preparing for what was coming up. The wind rushed around me, whipping my hair out of my face. “Have confidence, sir.”
Before I could hear his response, I flipped off the turret, arching my back and twisting, diving towards the ground head first.
The momentum I had caused me to flip in midair and I started falling feet first, only to have Hinvyre sweep in from beneath me and catch me.
As soon as I gained purchase in the familiar seat, she changed course at breakneck speed, climbing up until we were at the same level as Xaden’s cloud of shadow, which enveloped the fliers surrounding the outpost.
She circled the shadow like a shark, growling, so low in her chest I could feel the vibrations from my seat.
One by one, dragons and their riders appeared, joining us until a ring of dragons in all shapes and colour was surrounding the unsuspecting fliers.
I found Sgaeyl easily, as she was the only blue in the circle.
I nodded towards her, conveying a message to her and her rider.
“Drop it.”
The shadows dissipated like snakes slithering away from the sight of a predator, until we were revealed to the fliers.
Their eyes widened, the sight of their opponents not only appearing out of nowhere but also surrounding them on all sides clearly not what they expected.
Their leader, their captain locked eyes with me, his lips parted in shock, the colour slowly draining from his face.
I gave him a smug grin. Checkmate, motherfucker.
Spurred on by a silent command from Sgaeyl, the dragons charged all at once.
Some dived, then ascended to attack from below. Some flew head on, breathing gusts of fire towards the griffons.
I willed the clouds to produce rain, coaxing drops of condensation to clump together and fall to give the water wielders something to wield.
Hinvyre ascended, flying to the turrets of the towers to protect them from getting breached.
She looked down upon the battle, like a gargoyle guarding its fortress and opened her jaw. A blaze of fire erupted from her mouth and I felt for it, grabbing its energy and sculpting it.
It had taken me far more time to master controlling dragon fire compared to regular fire. I could still feel the heat on my fingertips as if I were molding the flames with my bare hands.
The blaze moved in arches — separating into branches and wrapping around three griffins, singeing their feathers and forcing them to fly down into the battle the infantry soldiers waited patiently for on the ground.
Riders and their dragons dived and swerved in between the griffins, knocking them out of the sky and towards the ground below. They dropped like flies, one by one until there were none left.
“So far, so good,” I muttered as Hinvyre dipped towards the ground.
“Just checking, they’re not ours, are they?” I asked as I performed a running landing, unsheathing my sword as I slid down from her shoulder to her claw before jumping off and running onto the battlefield.
“Your mate confirms that this drift is not affiliated with the ones we have been aiding,” Hinvyre said as I sliced through a flier as I ran by.
“Good.” The roar of wind sounded in my ears as Sgaeyl glided past over my head, depositing Xaden just a few feet ahead.
The momentum from the running landing slipped away and I stopped right in front of him.
I looked him over, just in case and found no injuries on his body. I met his gaze just as he finished a similar assessment.
“Be safe,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to my hairline.
“You too,” I replied just as quickly before we separated, weaving through the fray into battle.
It was easier than expected to separate the fliers from the infantry as I cut through them quickly. Disabling each in less than a minute before moving onto the next one without hesitation. The sooner we get through this, the sooner I can go to fucking bed.
They fought with grit, I’ll give them that — they definitely trained more than us in hand-to-hand, although I doubt they spent half of their time worrying whether or not they’d survive to the next day at school.
I blocked, parried any blades I saw coming my way and struck at any unprotected part of the body I saw.
The last thing I saw was Xaden across the battlefield, tearing through flier after flier with blades of darkness. I could see his eyes grow wide with the one emotion that rarely ever crossed his face — fear — as the arrow pierced my back.
