Rhyolite
He plunged from the sky at breakneck pace, personal safety be damned. The only thing that mattered was reaching Aimee in time.
There was no indication that the Ice Dragon was there with her, but the storm and the increasing frequency of the avalanches—a result of it moving through the mountains most likely—all screamed of impending disaster. That and his gut was telling him that she was in danger. Real, discernable danger. He needed to be there, to put himself between her and harm’s way.
He’d spied the helicopter trailing smoke as it fled back for civilization, but he’d known that she wasn’t aboard. Tracing their path, he flew onward to the one of the more northerly peaks of the range. That was when he’d heard the Ice Dragon roar, and Aimee scream in terror.
Now Rhyolite hurtled toward the white dragon, determined that it would feel pain, and fear. As he closed the distance he opened his mouth and spat forth a lance of black stone nearly ten feet long. It combined with his already considerable speed and flew forward, impaling the Ice Dragon’s foot as it closed on Aimee, wrenching it to the side and pinning it to the ice.
“AIMEE. RUN!”
It was all he had time to shout before his wings burst open. The action slowed him just enough so the impact wouldn’t kill him as he slammed into the white dragon with a vengeance, his claws slicing through scales, spilling dark red blood across the ice, staining it nearly black.
He snarled triumphantly, pressing his attack home, trying to keep his foe off-balance. More blood splashed across the walls as he beat the Ice Dragon back, keeping distance between it and Aimee, whom he hoped had fled to the far end of the cavern.
“That is my mate,” he spat, punctuating that with a flurry of black spears that pierced one of the white membranous wings, preventing the enemy dragon from fleeing into the air. “You will pay for that.”
“Impetuous youth. Do you have any idea how badly you are outclassed?”
He felt uneasy at the calm retort. Summoning up his fire, he prepared to unleash it, ending the fight here and now. Ice Dragons were particularly susceptible to dragonfire, which is why they rarely left their icy mountain and glacier homes, where they held the advantage. Places like the crevice he was now fighting within.
Uh-oh.
Tendrils of ice snaked out from the wall, one wrapping itself around his snout, clamping it shut and extinguishing the fire he’d been building there. More vine-like ropes of ice clamped onto his legs and tail.
Thrashing about, he broke the hold on it, forced to fight the bobbing, weaving strands of ice instead of his real foe. But even as he swatted away an end, two more rose up in its place, like a hydra. They were slowly entombing him in their midst. Panicking, he reached down for the earth to call upon his own natural defense, but he felt only emptiness.
There was no earth beneath him, only solid ice!
“Fool,” came the whispered voice, threading its way through the ice and proclaiming victory in the single word.
Rhyolite fought harder and more ice shattered, but it continued to slither over him, squeezing harder and harder. He roared in pain and tried to melt it with fire, but it didn’t help. He was going to die in the ice, unable to save Aimee.
Just like he’d been unable to save his people so many centuries before. A wall of despair washed up and over him, covering him with bleak darkness as he struggled with the idea that maybe he just wasn’t meant to find love or happiness. That it was not his place to belong anywhere.
That he was a failure.
Closing his eyes, he sighed in defeat, letting the ice roll up and over him, smothering him with its cool embrace, the deep chill setting in, penetrating below his scales until it felt like he was burning it was so frigid. The sensation intensified, and he smiled to himself. This was it. The end.
The smell of burning scales reached his nose. Followed a moment later by another sensation. Pain. And lots of it.
“OW!” he bellowed, rearing up as the ice shattered around him, his rear end blackened and crisped where Obsidian’s fire had penetrated through to his body. “You burned my ass, you ass!”
“Get up and fight already!” the bronze dragon snapped as it launched itself at the Ice Dragon.
But Rhyolite had a better idea. “Keep him busy!” he shouted.
“What? No! Get over here and fight with me!” Obsidian hollered as he sent another blast of fire at their icy foe.
But Rhyolite was too busy breathing fire to talk, letting it flow out of him as he slowly melted the unnaturally cold ice. His eyes fixed down the crevice where he saw Aimee crouched in the farthest corner.
He grinned, not an easy feat as he slowly sank into the ice, the water bubbling and flashing into steam from the heat. Ignoring it he went down, and down, and down.
“RHYOLITE! YOU COWARD, GET BACK HERE!” Obsidian roared, his words ending in a shout of pain.
I’ll be right there. I just need to find—
Then his claws touched it. Cool. Hard. Unyielding.
Pure rock.