The bubbling stream twisted lazily through the dense forest, a tranquil ribbon of water that reflected the sunlight filtering through the canopy above. Drakaryn lay sprawled beside it, his head resting on his foreclaw, his eyes half-closed in contemplation. The symphony of the Dragontongue hummed faintly in his mind, a layered melody that teased the edges of his understanding. He had been meditating on the interplay of sound and silence, the way they shaped the world and each other, when the faintest tremor disrupted his focus.
Drakaryn's glowing eyes snapped open, frustration flickering across his features. He had been on the verge of a breakthrough, grasping at the elusive concept of silence within the Dragontongue, when the disturbance shattered his concentration. He raised his head, his nostrils flaring as he scanned the horizon.
A presence loomed, vast and oppressive. The air grew heavy, the subtle mana currents around him warping as something—or someone—approached. Drakaryn pushed himself to his feet, his tail flicking with irritation. When the figure emerged from the treeline, his frustration turned to wary curiosity.
Medraut stepped into the clearing, his black scales gleaming like polished obsidian. His piercing silver eyes locked onto Drakaryn, their intensity cutting through the air like a blade. He moved with deliberate precision, his claws leaving shallow grooves in the earth as he closed the distance.
The two dragons stood in silence for a moment, sizing each other up. Medraut's sheer presence was suffocating, but Drakaryn didn't flinch. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his frustration giving way to curiosity.
"You interrupted me," Drakaryn said, his voice low and resonant. "I was on the cusp of understanding something important."
Medraut's lips curled into a faint smile, though it lacked any warmth. "The world doesn't pause for your enlightenment, young one."
Drakaryn's claws flexed, scraping against the earth. "And who are you to decide what the world does or doesn't do?"
Medraut's gaze sharpened. "I am the one who will remind you of your place."
The two dragons moved simultaneously, a blur of scales and muscle as they collided with a force that shook the ground. The stream hissed and boiled as Drakaryn's claws raked across Medraut's side, leaving deep grooves in his black scales. Medraut responded with a powerful swipe of his tail, sending Drakaryn staggering back.
Drakaryn snarled, lunging forward with his jaws wide. Medraut met him head-on, their claws locking as they pushed against each other in a test of strength. The earth beneath their feet cracked and crumbled, the nearby trees uprooted as their massive forms tore through the forest.
With a roar, Medraut heaved Drakaryn backward, sending him crashing into a cluster of boulders. The impact shattered the stones, sending shards flying in every direction. Drakaryn recovered quickly, his wings flaring as he leapt into the air. He dove toward Medraut, his claws outstretched, and the two met again with a thunderous crash.
The landscape around them became a battlefield, reshaped by their violent struggle. Trees splintered and fell, the ground was churned into a chaotic mess of mud and stone, and the stream swelled with debris as it struggled to flow past the destruction. Each blow landed with earth-shaking force, their roars echoing across the Expanse.
---
Far from the clearing, Tazerith and his small band of dragons watched in awe and fear. The clash between Drakaryn and Medraut was unlike anything they had ever witnessed, a display of raw power that left even the seasoned dragons shaken.
"This is madness," Sylra muttered, her green eyes wide as she watched the battle unfold. "How can anyone hope to stand against that?"
Tazerith said nothing, his focus locked on the battlefield. He was searching for an opening, a moment of weakness in either combatant that he could exploit. But as the fight raged on, it became clear that he was far from the action's reach—and perhaps not far enough.
A boulder, flung by one of the combatants' strikes, hurtled through the air with terrifying speed. Tazerith barely had time to duck as it smashed into the young blue-scaled dragon beside him. The impact sent the dragon sprawling, the rock lodged into his eye as he let out a strangled cry before falling unconscious.
Sylra hissed in alarm, stepping back as Grathor muttered, "This isn't a battle—it's a cataclysm."
Tazerith's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. He had no intention of intervening now. This clash was a gift, a chance for both Drakaryn and Medraut to weaken each other. All he had to do was wait for the right moment to strike.
---
Back in the clearing, Drakaryn and Medraut fought with unrelenting ferocity. Drakaryn's claws found purchase on Medraut's shoulder, tearing through scales and muscle. Medraut retaliated with a powerful blow from his hind legs, sending Drakaryn skidding across the ground.
The fight dragged on, each dragon bleeding from countless wounds. The bubbling stream was now a muddy torrent, choked with debris and stained with their blood. Drakaryn growled as he pushed himself to his feet, his body trembling from exhaustion. Medraut, though still standing strong, bore the weight of his injuries in his labored breaths.
The final exchange came in a furious blur of motion. Drakaryn lunged forward, aiming to sink his teeth into Medraut's neck. Medraut sidestepped, bringing his tail around with crushing force. The blow sent Drakaryn flying, his massive form crashing into the base of a sheer cliff. Several fist sized rocks adding insult to the blow.
Drakaryn slumped against the rocky wall, his breathing ragged. Blood dripped from his wounds, pooling around him as he struggled to rise. Medraut advanced slowly, his silver eyes gleaming with cold determination. But he, too, was wounded—deep gashes marred his sides, and his steps faltered slightly as he approached.
For a moment, neither dragon moved. Drakaryn leaned heavily against the cliff, his gaze defiant despite the pain coursing through him. Medraut stood a short distance away, his composure returning as he assessed the situation.
"You're stronger than I anticipated," Medraut admitted, his voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. "But strength alone is not enough."
Drakaryn's lips curled into a faint smile, his breath hitching. "And yet here you stand, bleeding as much as I am."
Medraut said nothing, his eyes narrowing as he took a step closer. But he didn't attack. Not yet. Both dragons knew that the next move would decide the outcome, and neither was willing to make it without careful consideration.
The clearing fell silent, the chaos of the battle replaced by a tense stillness. High above, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the scarred landscape. The fight was far from over, but for now, both combatants held their ground, each waiting for the other to falter.