He thought saying no to her would be the hardest thing he'd ever have to do.

He was wrong. The hardest thing he'd ever have to do is watch as her face twists, as she growls like a caged animal, knowing that he is the cause of it. His numbness cannot quell his urge to protect his sister - but never has he been the one she needs protecting from.

Then, she speaks. He recognises the nothingness in her voice; it is mirrored in his own. He knows how dangerous it is.

He is correct. Suddenly, there is fire. It is fortunate that the goliath's reflexes, sharpened through battle, do not fail him; with pinned ears and gaping nostrils, he manages to lunge forwards just in time to stop the black's inferno from castrating him. He does not escape fully unharmed; the flames graze his rump and singe off the top layer of skin, but the pain is momentary, unremarkable, in comparison to the agony of reality hitting him in the face.

His sister's dragon just tried to burn him alive. And she let him.

How could she?! He is apopletic - and it isn't over, either, because suddenly he's crying crimson tears, suddenly his nose is bubbling blood from deep within its core, and suddenly dizziness makes his head swim and his legs wobble. He staggers, blood pissing out of his face, confusion and betrayal and rage etched across his regal features.

"We come!" Vérzés' mental voice stabs into Volterra's addled head, and he feels air against his dragons' wings as they begin their hectic flight back to his side.

No! His response is a savage mental roar; he forbids his dragons to return to him. The reason is simple - he knows that, in their anger at Lilómiel, they will not hesitate to tear him apart. A red and gold against a lowly black? It would be a massacre.

Volterra's remaining sanity tells him that he cannot let that happen. He is furious at his sister, yes, but he could not condemn her to that.

In the depths of his pain, his rage, the beast's instincts take over. He likens it to when Mother scolded them for misbehaving; his sister might be one half of his blackened fucking heart, but she has sinned, and she must be punished.

She must bend to her brother.

The brute breaks into a half-run, half-stagger, his path zigzagging and haphazard due to the dizziness. He summons his magic, attempting to erect a chest-high plateau of earth in front of Nymeria to try and halt her escape; he hopes she will be taken by surprise and run right into it. As her own magic begins to wear off and his mind sharpens again, he aims to pull close behind her and then shift to his left, to try and bring them parallel - his right side to her left. His massive shoulder lunges to the right to try and slam it into her left flank, wanting to knock her over to her right and fucking dominate her - the first time he's ever attempted to use his height and weight advantage against her.

His jaws lunge to their right, too, trying to pepper her left side and back with hard bites aimed to bruise.

All of this is performed with an eerie coldness. Fire he may be on the inside, but he is ice on the outside. Unlike his other fights, this is not to be enjoyed. This is not to be savoured, remembered with glee. This is just a filthy, horrible little necessity, a task he must carry out, like the swinging arm of the executioner.

The forest suddenly bursts into colour as dragons of red and gold fling themselves onto the battlefield. Having ignored Volterra's commands - and oh, how it thrills them to defy their master! - they have arrived with revenge on their minds, and their bonded feels their twin outrage at the crime their brother has committed. Vérzés, who has grown up with the black, who sees him as kin, has misgivings and hangs back, his uncertainty radiating into Volterra's head.

Vadir - savagery personified, vengeance incarnate - has no such doubts. She flings her colossal body down, down towards the traitorous black, the runt, for he has earnt the wrath of the queen. She aims to wrap all four limbs around him and slam his little body towards the ground, into the ground, where he belongs.

And her jaws - they open, and from their depths comes fire. For the first time, the queen has found her flame, and she aims this maiden torrent straight towards the black.

Volterra cannot even bring himself to feel happy about it.

__________________

Spar for @Nymeria , set directly after this thread. ICly the fight outcome will be played as a draw/tie, but we still want a judging etc for VP/EXP :D

1/3 - 791 words