Mordred reached up to wipe it away—and despite Tristan's warning, didn't dodge before Kinborough drove the sword into their shoulder.Instead of screaming, even though the pain must have been agonizing, Mordred slammed a knee into her groin, grabbed her hair, and then drove the same knee up into her face before shoving her away.
They bent to retrieve Caliburn, then rose and surged forward, fire flashing along the length of the blade as Mordred swung—and though Kinborough moved out of the way of a killing blow, she didn't move fast enough.She screamed as her sword arm was sliced off, the additional heat of Mordred's flames adding agony on top of agony, even as it also cauterized the wound.
Before Mordred could move away, Kinborough slammed her remaining hand over their face, and Mordred screamed as agonizing shadow magic ripped through them, stumbling back and collapsing to the ground."Stupid fucking thug," Kinborough hissed.She stooped, pried the sword from her own fingers, then turned it around and thrust the blade into her stomach.
She choked, coughed blood, collapsed to all fours—well, threes—on the ground.Purple-hued shadows consumed her, turning red along the edges, and she collapsed into an indistinct mass.
"I didn't know the sword could do that," Tristan said shakily."What the fuck is going on."
"Get back," Mordred said grimly."Take Caliburn."
Tristan caught it deftly, slung the sword on his back with his own, then dutifully backed away with Lancelot.
The shadowy, indistinct mass that had been Kinborough rose up into a long, sinuous shape reminiscent of Lancelot's serpent form—then solidified into something very like that, but with four short limbs and fins that seemed like the dregs of wings.She had black scales that gleamed purple and red like oil, and her eyes were brilliant purple with glowing red pupils.Her long fangs dripped venom, and her hiss cut through Lancelot's head like knives.
A lindworm.Of fucking course she'd turned herself into a lindworm.
Transformation was one of the great magics and came in three types: natural, bestowed, cursed.
A natural ability to transform was exceedingly rare, belonging to beings of immense power not often found.
Bestowed was the most common way, like Arthur and Dred.Arthur's ability to transform had been granted by a sorceress after he'd saved the lives of her and her children, kept her home and land from being burned to nothing.He'd always possessed powerful earth magic, but the sorceress had unlocked it further, granting him the power of sunlight and transformative capabilities.Arthur's own nature, his inherently good and noble heart, had been what shaped that power into a dragon.
Mordred had always burned hotter than their siblings, and when they'd broken a terrible curse, the princess they'd saved had rewarded him by increasing his power still further, bestowing the prized transformative ability.Stubborn, tenacious, and loyal unto death, that ability had taken the form of a black gryphon with fiery wings.
Transformed, Mordred screamed in challenge at Kinborough, and the two threw themselves into their second round of battle.
Tristan whistled."How much fucking water did you call up, Captain?Seriously impressive work."
"Just the reservoir, but clearly something else broke free in the fallout.There must have been a river or lake beneath the city that I didn't feel, since I never had cause to reach that deep.Too late now.I hope everyone outside the city is doing all right."
"I mean, most of the bottom floors account for floods these days, sadly," Tristan."Ouch, fuck, that's got to hurt."
Lancelot's mouth pinched tight as he watched the fight.Mordred had torn off both of the fins and raked a long, bloody gouge on her side.But she'd ripped off one of Mordred's wings and broken one of their front legs.
Despite that, Mordred still dodged as she lunged at them, then darted forward and ripped another long chunk out of her.Her tail smacked, sent them rolling and tumbling, but when Lancelot made to join the battle, Mordred snarled angrily.
Picking themself up, Mordred screamed again, the piercing cry of a hawk and the snarl of an angry lioness all at once, reverberating in Lancelot's bones and making his whole body ache.
As Kinborough lunged again, fangs flinging venom, Mordred braced themself—and just as she would have snapped her jaws over their head, Mordred dropped and pushed forward, sharp beak latching onto and ripping through her soft underbelly right as they brought up their flames, filling her body with fire, cooking her from the inside out.
Kinborough wailed and shrieked, thrashed wildly as fire consumed her.Mordred withdrew hastily, running-limping toward them and collapsing at their feet.As they shifted back, Tristan heaved them up and over his shoulders just like he had Lancelot earlier.
"Back into the water," Lancelot said."It's our only chance."Instead of heading to the water, though, he ran to where Kinborough had collapsed and turned human once more.Lying awkwardly beside her, as though it had been yanked out and dropped, was her sword.
Lancelot grabbed it up, then brought it down in a swift, sure motion, removing her head in a single, clean move.He grabbed the head and threw it as far as he could, pleased when it reached the ever-rising water and was carried away by the current.
"W-wait," Mordred said, voice ragged and weak."Put me down."
"Are you serious right now?"Lancelot demanded.
Mordred, pale and trembling, only stumbled over to the corpse and fulfilled their promise to piss on Kinborough's severed neck.
"And you callmeimmature," Tristan said, rolling his eyes.
"Rest in hell, bitch," Mordred said."Now you may carry me, faithful knight."
Tristan rolled his eyes again, picked Mordred up, and finally they all headed down into the water that was more than halfway up the incline they'd raced down before."Next time we do this, I'm packing extra clothes for you two."
