Chapter 46: Sting of the desert

Air rushed past her as she sailed off the balcony. Sylph had learned something the last time she jumped. Dragons never descended vertically. They circled, or glided, or dove. But Sylph had no clue how to do those, either. Her wings were spread half open, as far as they would extend, and cramped with a painful pull when the wind seized her. She guessed she had to angle them, but her stiff muscles held against the air and refused to let go. Her saving grace was the forward momentum of her jump.

The ground caught her in a full sprint. Her legs barely kept up with her speed and she stumbled a few meters before coming to a standstill with a pounding heart. The tendons in her back wailed in agony at the torture, but her dragonheart blazed hot enough to burn away the pain. Nothing broke, nothing dislodged, a good landing for somebody with wings like hers.

She looked back at the balcony. Nahana peered over the railing, her expression stuck somewhere between disappointment and fury. But she did not follow. Did she plan this? Perhaps a test of her loyalty or fear?

“Sylph!” Brandon’s panicked voice shoved aside any thoughts of Nahana. Keeping him safe was her priority, worrying about what Nahana planned for her next punishment could wait.

“I am here. Get behind me!” She closed the distance with another sprint. The older man had left Brandon to fend for himself. She could see why. Brandon held up his spear and shield in no particular order, which made him look more like baggage in a fight.

Luckily, the scorpion chose the elderly man and not Brandon as its first target. Sylph had to swallow at the sight of the enormous insect and admired the old man’s guts for rushing in.

No, it was not brave; it was stupid. “Come back here, you moron!” Her words came too late. The scorpion skittered forward with the speed of a charging Tira. Its larger right pincer shot forward and clasped around the old man’s torso. He was lifted into the air as if he was a mere rat. A last, pained scream echoed and reflected from the round walls of the arena, and then the scorpion stinger impaled him. He went stiff immediately and Sylph turned her gaze elsewhere before she could admire his actual guts.

“Oh, by the six, what even is that?!” Brandon raised his spear towards the creature. “Insects don’t grow that large.”

“It’s gonna be fine, just stay away from it.” Sylph pushed his legs further apart with her tail, grabbed the spear and nudged it into a somewhat usable position, not that she exactly knew, but Brandon knew less and pushing him into a stance gave her the illusion of preparing for the confrontation, when she did not know how to face something like that.

“Fine? The thing is larger than you.” The white of his knuckles shone through the persistent sunburn as he clutched the spear.

Sylph cycled through different approaches in her head. How should she attack an insect? Would it react to a feint? To her being on the defensive? Was it scared of a dragon? A quick glimpse at the now slowly lumbering beast told her it was not. It knew it ruled these sands, and they were merely prey tossed in for its entertainment. A thick carapace of glossy onyx armor covered most of the body, but not the small eyes up top. Unlike with a dragon, its head must be weaker and it surely recognized, which was why it sat behind the pincers the size of tree trunks and wiggly, sharp mouth parts.

“Your mother threatened to torture me should I call for your help.” Sylph had a hard time judging his voice. He no longer sounded sacred, which had to be a lie, because if Brandon was not scared, how could she be?

Sylph fell into her favored earth stance. “She probably expected me to sit and watch to prove I am a well-behaved heir.” Maybe her approach to the scorpion was wrong. The waterfiend killed the last one, then Dave killed the waterfiend and she could have taken Dave in a fight. Logically, she was the apex predator here, not the scorpion. “She also told me that this was supposed to be in your favor.”

Sylph’s back bristled with electricity. “It is all my fault, sorry.” One good hit should bring it down. An Aer’s shock could kill an opponent thrice their size, easily.

The scorpion jittered closer and Sylph’s dragonheart pumped fire through her veins as her muscles tensed. Strike first, Veria’s voice echoed through her mind, and she completed her attack plan. Her mother was right. No need to wait for it.

Sylph propelled herself forward into a sprint and sidestepped to her right as she was a tail-length away. Using her tail to cancel some of her momentum, she dug her hind legs into the ground and launched herself over the left pincer.

Her pfod connected just behind the small, beady, black eyes up top. It was a sure kill. She won. Loosening the grip on her weapon, she braced for the jolt, but there was none. Her back stayed tingly and faintly ached at the unsuccessful discharge. It dawned on her; The glossy shell was not conductive, and she sat right in front of all of its weapons.

One pincer closed around her leg like a vice. It yanked her to the side with unexpected force. Sylph lunged for anything to hold on and felt one of her claws slide through something soft as it dragged her away. The scorpion’s tail snapped forward, past her shoulders and embedded its arrow-like stinger in her thigh. After the initial hot pain, it grew ice-cold and numb.

Wound, she needed a wound. The second pincer shot forward, aimed at her front leg. Sylph twisted and caught it with her right pfod. She clamped down, but her claws slid over the carapace without even a scratch. Only able to hold on with sheer muscle, fiery strain enveloped her as they both pushed against each other. She relied on the power of her dragonheart. It did not. It would come out on top. She needed a plan, quick.

Looking for options, she met the soulless gaze of its intact left eye. That was what she had struck before. It should lack depth perception now and the head was still within reach of her arms, even with it holding her by the leg.

The stinger shot down once again. Just in time, Sylph twisted her head. It seemed slightly less accurate, but it would have skewered her if it had hit. She grabbed the retracting tail and let it carry her upwards, pushing away from its pincer with her right as she did so. At the apex of her jump, she made a fist with both pfods, stretched to her full length and brought them down like a hammer as she fell.

She smashed them right between the eyes. The shell cracked open like a small wyvern egg. Another pincer dug into her leg and pulled, but Sylph held onto the hole in the shell. She smacked her left into the soft innards and threw her center of water inside. The scales on her arm bulged outward as its lifeblood rushed into her. Within a second, the creature ceased to move and went rigid. It let go of her leg, but instead of landing on her paw like she wanted to, it numbly dangled from her thigh and she slipped onto her stomach.

She tried to sit up, dragged her leg behind her as if it did not even belong to her body anymore. In terror she realized that her entire rear had frozen stiff. She had to remove the poison. The center of water rushed towards her back. She could purify water, she should be able to get rid of poison. The numbness had reached her stomach, and she felt queasy. Its spread had increased as well. She concentrated on her ability, balanced it around.

“Come on, come on,” she whined as the tip of her snout lost all sense. She tried to touch her nose but tipped to the side like a plank of wood as her limbs ceased to obey her, yet her center of water still ambled around in her back and saved nothing.

“Sylph!” Brandon entered her field of view and bent downwards. He studied her face and looked closer at her eyes. “What happened? What about your ability? Does it not work? Perhaps the poison is untouchable? No, that makes no sense.”

Someone had disconnected her mind from most senses. She heard and saw, but nothing else. So this was what punishment alley felt like. It completely terrified her. She was helpless, trapped. Nahana could do whatever she wanted and she could not even complain.

Brandon jumped away from her face and clasped his spear tighter.

The world rolled her onto her stomach. Or rather, someone probably did and yet she could not even feel a pfod placed on her shoulders. “Let’s see if a few weeks of dark cell will change your behavior.” The bitter voice belonged to Nahana without a doubt. “I expected you to have more faith in your companion. Yet you intervened. What if the audience was larger? Would you still have done it? Do you even care?” Her pfod grabbed hold of Sylph’s snout and forced her to look upwards at her face. A slim grin spread below her otherwise emotionless expression. “Oh, you must be furious and terrified. Hold on to these feelings and remember that I can do this to you whenever I wish. I can force you to watch whatever I want.”

Nahana dropped Sylph’s head and stepped away from the scorpion. “Quite an impressive specimen you took down. The desert king scorpion, some call it.” She grabbed hold of the stinger, avoiding the pointy end by all means, and broke it off. “Throw them both into a cell.”

Somebody pulled her backwards, and Brandon was herded after her by a guard. She tried to breathe a sigh of relief. He would be fine, in prison with her, but fine.

Farron’s face entered her field of view. “What did I tell you? You can’t put some human above the town.” He shot a glance at Brandon. “Try to re-think your priorities.”

She had her priorities in order and if she could talk or even blink in his general direction, she would make that clear. He cocked his head upward again. “It was impressive, though. You are quite strong. I love that.” His smile faded. “But, since she is throwing you straight into prison, I can not follow my promise of making your time on the alley easier. Sorry about that.”