The sky cracked with wind.
Above the frozen plains of the true North, where the sun broke only faintly through endless clouds, two shadows moved like gods summoned for war. One from fire, the other born of ice.
Vezdaryon soared with the sun behind him, his wings stretched to their full length, his scales catching glimmers of bronze and black as his body carved through the air. Smoke still coiled in his breath from the last of his morning fire. His heart was thunder in his chest not from fear, not even from excitement but from something deeper. Instinct.
The ice dragon was already in the sky, having risen from the valley like a ghost from a crypt. Its body stretched long and pale, its wings nearly translucent, flashing light like polished glass. As it climbed to meet him, a long breath of cold spilled from its mouth not smoke, but crystalline frost that clung to the wind, trailing like a veil of frozen breath.
They circled each other once, silent.
The world below stood still no bird, no beast, no voice of man. The air was too thin for sound to carry far. Only the rush of wings, and the tightening stillness between two titans.
Then, the first strike.
Vezdaryon roared a bellow so deep it rumbled across the sky, fire bursting from his jaws in a wide arc. It was not a test, it was a warning.
But the ice dragon did not flinch.
It dove.
Its wings folded tight, and it dropped like a bolt from heaven, straight toward Vezdaryon. The fire-dragon pivoted midair, spiraling away, narrowly avoiding the raking talons aimed for his wing joints. He spun out wide, twisting up into the wind and as he banked, he launched a stream of flame directly into the turning form of his opponent.
The fire struck the ice dragon's left wing, but the creature twisted and rolled, shedding the flame with a glittering spray of frost that froze the moisture midair. The ice dragon retaliated with a roar of its own not a blast of flame, but a cone of freezing air, thick with shards of rime and sleet.
It slammed into Vezdaryon's chest.
The cold was not just cold. It was a weapon — ancient, biting. His forward momentum slowed for a breath, scales along his neck and upper chest hardening with frost. He snarled, his blood boiling beneath it, fire churning in his lungs to shake off the creeping chill.
They clashed.
Their bodies slammed together midair, wings thrashing, claws scraping scale. Vezdaryon snapped his jaws around the ice dragon's shoulder, tearing into slick, frigid hide, and drew blood but it was blue, thick as oil, and it hissed as it touched the air.
The ice dragon hissed in return, wrenching its body, and with one massive claw, raked across Vezdaryon's side, slicing through armor-thick scales and drawing red flame-tinged blood. Pain flared but Vezdaryon held firm.
They broke apart again, both spiraling backward, wings beating the frozen air into storms. Each circled, panting, bruised, cut — not tired yet, but tested.
This was no brief contest.
This was a bloody dance.
Vezdaryon twisted into a dive of his own, talons outstretched. He crashed into the ice dragon from above, both tumbling end over end through the clouds, necks locked, claws slashing wildly. They spun, twisting downward toward a jagged ridge below and at the last instant, Vezdaryon shoved himself free, backwinging violently to rise.
The ice dragon landed hard on a crag of black stone, smashing ice and snow. Its talons gripped the mountainside, chest heaving, steam rising from the places where fire had singed its hide.
Vezdaryon hovered above, circling. He dove again but this time, he twisted at the last second, spinning past the ice dragon's leap, and lashed his tail across the beast's flank. The crack of impact echoed like thunder. The ice dragon staggered, tumbling down the slope, wings half-folded.
But it recovered quickly.
Too quickly.
It leapt from the rocks, slamming into Vezdaryon with a sudden upward strike, driving both dragons into the air again. They clawed and snapped, their roars mixing into something that shook the very sky a war-cry sung in fire and ice.
Again, Vezdaryon was hit with a blast of frost, this one stronger aimed for his face. He closed his eyes, flames roaring from his throat in answer, pushing back the freezing breath with sheer heat.
He felt the sting of cuts. The ache in his ribs. The fire within him was no longer just rage it was survival.
And still, neither yielded.
The wind howled around them as the duel rose higher into the clouds.
The ice dragon's speed was incredible precise, quick, as if its body was born for sharp turns and slicing dives. Vezdaryon, larger and heavier, relied on strength and control brute strikes, deep-burning flame, and the weight of his body used like a weapon.
They had circled each other through the sky for nearly an hour now neither gaining true advantage.
Yet the blood of both dragons speckled the snow below.
They rose one last time, climbing so high the clouds thinned and the air grew razor-thin. Neither beast roared now. There was only breath and silence, two predators measuring one another again before the next round began.
And in that pause, Vezdaryon's eyes burned.
This was no longer just instinct.
This was a proving.
He wasn't just defending his presence anymore.
He was demanding dominance.
He spread his wings wide, fire already rising in his throat and the ice dragon met him head-on, frost curling from its maw.
The second half of the battle would be decisive.
And it would begin… now.
——-
Hope you enjoyed the chapter