But the goblins had somehow worked in tandem, catching the dragon’s back legs on a longer, thicker rope pulled taut across the cave, tripping it forward in the same instance and assisting in taking it down. Spears already stuck out from between its scales, more than Damien would have expected hitting their mark, and a hefty blob of burning pitch sizzled as it dripped down the creature’s back, pouring out from the flying machine above.
Damien stumbled to another stop, calling up shadows to hover about him as he appraised the beast. The chaotic onslaught of attacks continued around it, but it was not getting back up, a roar bellowing out into the cave, trailing off as another spear caught it in the throat. It was not enough to make it truly bleed, but its head fell to the ground, and a second net was cast over the dragon’s snout.
This was his chance. Killing the thing would take much more, but it was subdued enough for banishment. He had prepared the circle on his forearm, pulling up his sleeve and beginning to carve along the lines he’d drawn out so he wouldn’t have to think too hard in the moment. The broken skin emanated a crimson glow beyond just his seeping blood, the arcana prepared to reach out and take back what it had lost from the infernal plane.
Noxscura flooded Damien, banishment rarely performed but closely tied to his blood’s origin, and he strode back toward the beast filled with a purpose. He would rip it from this world, he would snuff out its existence here, he would destroy all mannerand memory of the thing, and he would give it over to the darkness.
Dozens of goblins had climbed upon it, pulling the nets taut to the ground. The tiny creatures were practically feral, throwing themselves atop it, never having gotten the upper hand. More climbed over its back, trying to stab it with whatever pointy thing they could find. Dragon scales were too hard to pierce, but a select few ground down between them and stabbed into the thing. The dragon could not breathe the fire that was building hotly in its gullet, it could not rip into Damien and spill his guts on the cavern floor as its irate eyes suggested was its intent, it could not even stick out its tongue to goad him on. The thing was helpless, and a hoard of minikin goblins and one blood mage would be its undoing.
Noxscura swept through him, seeping out of the infernally touched cavern itself at his command to descend on the beast. The shadows turned into violet shards of arcana made corporeal, falling in chain-like forms over the beast’s back. He carved the last line of Chthonic into his forearm, the spell burning inside and out, prepared to swallow up the beast when finally he dripped his blood onto it and said the words.
The dragon snorted out a breath, smoky and short, and then another, struggling. It tried to pull back, to escape Damien’s hand as he extended it, to cower from the great and terrible power being brought down upon it. Damien smirked—not any power,hispower—and it would be a shame to do so too quickly and not revel in banishing one of the most formidable beasts in existence.
He let his gaze rove over the snarl of its jaw, the sinister slits to its eyes, the muscles of its back, the breadth of its wings. Except one of those wings was damaged, not just torn in the present scuffle but missing an entire chunk. That was not new, the wound old and healed. And of those eyes, one was cloudedand scarred, while its fangs were chipped, its jaw slightly askew.
The noxscura prodded at Damien, longing to attack, but he shifted it ever so slightly, choosing to reach out to the creature one last time before banishing it. Fear, so much fear, all-encompassing and calamitous.
“Wait,” he called, and the goblins paused their onslaught though still held it secure. Damien was unsure if he had meant to command the green army or simply himself, but he had yet to touch the dragon and complete the spell.
“Who brought you here?” Damien asked it.
There was a voice in his mind, a rumbling flicker that said,No one. Fate, perhaps. Mercy, more like. I simply arrived through a tear in the veil.
“And your injuries?”
From that place you want to send me. Others of my kind did this. Kill me if you must, but do not send me back.
Damien groaned and dropped his hand. “Fuck.”
The goblins murmured, and Ewigog appeared atop the dragon. “Make died!” he cried.
“Just hold on a bloody moment,” Damien groused, rubbing a temple and smearing blood across it. “Look, are you saying other dragons did this to you, and you only accidentally ended up here?”
I was looking for escape, and the veil had thinned, so I left.
“And you can’t fly out of here, can you?”
It grumbled out a noise, turning its head slightly in something like shame.
“So you took to eating the goblins?”
It moaned into Damien’s mind,I didn’t want to eat them but they kept coming to hit me with sticks. Eventually, I got hungry.
“Did you lot attack him first?”
Ewigog balled up fists and stomped making the dragonflinch. “Course attack! Is Big Spicy! Is danger! Make died!”
Damien dropped back his head and groaned into the shadows of the high-ceilinged cavern. “Darkness help me for what I am about to suggest, but this has become a massive misunderstanding, and I think there is a possibility we can all come to some kind of accord.”
“Damien?” Amma was shuffling down the ramp at the back of the cave. “What’s going on?”
“Ah, and here is our negotiator.”
Dragons and goblins were not terribly different when it came right down to it, their love of garbage, especially the shiniest garbage, quite the unifying force. Communication was the biggest problem, as every time the dragon attempted to speak telepathically to them, confusion would overwhelm the goblins and they assumed it was some god and not just the big, leathery beast standing before them.
After many explanations, a select few began to understand, and very awkward apologies were traded. How the goblins so easily came to accept the deaths of their comrades, Damien was unsure, but perhaps building a monarchy on death helped. The traded assistance the dragon promised them was also a boon.
But the rest of their problems would be their own as Amma made good on her promise to abdicate her throne the following morning. It was quite easy despite that no goblin had ever done it before, and Damien suspected they simply didn’t understand the word in its entirety, so put up very little argument. Amma was a blubbering mess by the time they’d finally left, and there was only one thing he could think to fix things.
