Er’gan
The dragon is angry. Very… very… angry.
It does not understand why the dragon king has chosen to allow this charade…this insult to be placed on his…their person by creatures so very beneath them.
It does not understand why he would not just give it control and let it kill these dark elves reeking of black magic, sharp and stinging in their nose.
It is not that it does not know the reason, it does.
The dragon king’s thoughts are not hidden from it.
in fact in a way they are its thoughts as well.
So it knows that this sudden increase in the tolerance of the otherwise short tempered ruler has to do with the mortal slave girl who even now cowers behind them.
But knowing something and understanding it are two very different things.
The king wishes to protect her and Er’gan does not understand this.
Even worse, it does not like it.
When that old wound starts to burn again and Midas is forced against his wish to remember a memory which it, Er’gan the First had helped them forget, it feels the king pain as its own because in a sense, it is.
And its rage begins to reach a fever pitch.
Er’gan had wanted this particular brand of vermin called dark elves out of the forest the minute they had ascended the dragon throne but Midas had stayed their hand.
Sometimes, it suspects the King has more of his father’s blood running through his veins that he would care to admit.
And it is becoming even more apparent with the sudden appearance of the deceitful human with the flaming red hair and piercing blue eyes.
Leniency begat weakness and Er’gan cannot allow the ruler of the 5th realm to be weak.
They have too many enemies.
The human girl takes off running to the right, through the thinnest part of the forest just like the King had instructed her to.
It does not trust her.
It does not like her.
And soon, it will have to do something about her continued presence before it is too late.
But now Midas is pushing their body forward, lunging to attack the leader of the vermin surrounding them.
Er’gan’s magic courses through their body and lends speed to their movement and it is pleased when he sees blood the color of ink flow from a wound they have inflicted.
Yes… It thinks and a smile tugs on their lips.
This is what it has been waiting for. The elf guards enraged, charge at them but they do not even flinch.
Let them come.
Not only had these rodents who worshipped the shadows insulted their person, they had dared to hurt the one who Er’gan was bound to, that is a crime punishable only by death.
A stab of pain flares from a knife wound in their arm.
Another one in their leg.
Er’gan is surprised. Surprised and now even angrier.
The dragon king is bent on aiming his attacks on the queen.
Indirectly letting these cretins inflict harm on their body all in an effort to keep the focus of the guards on protecting the leader so the elves have no time to go after the human.
This ends now.
He growls in the king’s head.
“Dragon king…”
“Yes Er’gan?”
“Let me out.”
He feels it the moment Midas surrenders control.
“With pleasure.”
Er’gan feels himself expand.
Not their body, it is not shifting into its true form.
No, this change is something that is happening to its very essence, to its consciousness.
It bubbles and swells from behind the consciousness of the one to whom he is bound until it pushes past the dragon king’s free will and takes its place at the front of his mind.
Its essence extends from their centre, curling and wrapping itself, like growing vines or tendrils of fire around the long, strong bones of their limbs. Er’gan can feel itself take control of their hands and their legs.
Alone Midas and the dragon are two incredibly powerful beings but together, their abilities exceed even the most intelligent of comprehensions.
It flexes their fingers against the grip of the sword and rolls their shoulders.
Then, they move like lightening.
The elves barely have anytime to attack.
The movement of their swords is almost an invisible blur.
They swing the blades soundlessly through the frigid night air, strike without warning, and slicing through skin and muscle with unerring accuracy.
They do not wish to kill the attackers all at once. That is not Er’gan’s style especially not when they have been hurt.
So instead they maim in strategic locations, draw out the suffering they intend to inflict. A slice of skin here, a limb sent flying into the air there.
They are systematic in the way they cut down the ones who had dared to confront them, enjoying the smell of the black blood that flows from their attackers’ wounds and the sound of their screams.
Like them, the dark elf guards do not understand the meaning of the word retreat.
Even more so when their elf queen has been wounded and even though the aggressors can tell that the one who now holds control of the dragon king’s body is a sentient being far older and far greater than they are, they still continue to fight.
Er’gan does not care. It welcomes their foolishness; thinks them eager to die and this suits it just fine.
But even though the elves are greater in number, Midas and Er’gan are stronger and it doesn’t take long.
Soon the dark elves are lying in tiny blood stained pieces at their feet.
Bodies lay littered in fragments all around the rich forest floor that greedily soaks up whatever blood is spilled on it.
All the elves that had appeared, that had surrounded and attacked them are now dead.
All except one.
The cowardly queen has somehow managed to slither away.
This is of little consequence to Er’gan and Midas. They know she will be back.
She will resurface like all unwanted vermin do.
And they will kill her then.
They re-sheath their swords and glance down at the wounds on their body that are even now rapidly healing. Torn muscle and skin stitching themselves back together under the invisible needle and thread of the dragon’s magic.
This is the result of the ritual that had bound them together.
For as long as Er’gan remained inside of the dragon king, Midas could get hurt but he would not die.
A scream rents the quiet stillness of the forest and their head turns sharply in that direction.
It hears her name whispered quietly on their inside.
“Hera is in danger, give me back control”
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’? They are dead Er’gan, give me back control.”
“I am afraid I cannot do that dragon king.”
“What?”
It feels the shockwaves of its refusal run all through their body.
It is breaking an unspoken agreement between them and the resulting effect is almost a physical pain.
From the first day it took control of the king’s body and the day it first lent him its wings in battle they had both accepted this unuttered yet binding rule.
No one could take the form of the other without their permission and refusing to return it was akin to betrayal.
But its actions, its refusal to let the king take over is for his own good.
The king may not see it that way at the moment but he will…soon.
“Er’gan. Give. Me. Back my body.”
“That human slave has done something to you, she has you wrapped around her finger, has you bowing and bending to her will and running to save her when you should be punishing her for her deceit.”
It feels the dragon king’s anger as its own.
“I am Midas the immortal, ruler and guardian of the 5th realm, my decisions are entirely my own. I bow to no one.”
“That may be so dragon king but earlier today, you regretted a decision I made for you on our behalf.”
“What in all the realms do you mean?”
“I had her sent to the cellars and you brought her back.”
“That was…”
“A hundred years we been bound together and not once have you ever regretted a decision I made for us, yet you have done so today. I mean to find out why.”
“Er’gan…”
“If she has done something to you, cast upon you some human spell, I intend to break it and save you.”
“Er’gan listen to me…”
“Do not despair dragon King, I do not intend to harm her…yet. I simply wish to ask her a few questions.”
It turns their head once again in the direction from which the scream had come. “But if I find I do not like her answer…let us just say, you will have another decision of mine to regret.”
Er’gan can hear the king calling its name in anger from behind its consciousness but it is not longer listening.
And without a second glance at the havoc of bodies behind him, it sends their body racing off into the trees and towards her.