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Back From the Edge

Summary:

God comes home from his throne in the stars to burn the cockroaches from his castle.

He finds love there waiting for him.

(Cosmic Fatalis is owned and created by BobcatSquad on Furaffinity)

Notes:

Please note that Cosmic Fatalis is owned and created by BobcatSquad on Furaffinity! This was a commission, I had meant to post a while ago.

I'd say sorry about the radio silence, but I'm kind of not because my life got crazy. I got the rona, I was in the middle of changing jobs, and the job I was training for had like 2 months of training I needed to concentrate on. Now that that's settled though, I'll likely have more time and energy for my writing!

Please note that this has a bit more gore than the others in MTGMP series, so if you need to skip parts, totally understand. It's mostly in the intro during the fight, I don't think there's any others later on.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“You aren’t coming”.

 

The Curious Tracker turned slightly, pausing in adjusting her pack.  “Yes, actually, I am”.

 

“The Commission put me in charge of the operation,” the Elite Lancer says, walking inside without removing his armored boots.  “You’re.  Not.  Coming”.

 

“You can deny it all you want, but I have permission from the Commission heads and the Guild Heads.  I’m not wasting such a valuable experience”.

 

And she wouldn’t.  There was so much to learn from something so mysterious.  If the legends were to be believed, that certain black dragons were even sentient, then perhaps there was a way to communicate.  Perhaps there wouldn’t have to be a fight at all, and harmony could persist.

 

But she couldn’t tell that to the commission.  There was too much of a risk that they would write her off, or mark her as a flight risk.  She had to play this close to the chest.

 

The Elite Lancer pushed into her space, lip curling.  “Do you not understand that we may die there?  The chances of us coming back, even with the little information you managed to gather, are low .   And we’re the ones going with weapons .  My team and I don’t need to be distracted looking over our shoulder to make sure some know-it-all who suspiciously just has all the information on black dragons has enough charcoal and ink to draw pictures of the thing that’s trying to stomp us to death”.

 

The Tracker stood tall and glared back.  “All the more reason for me to come along.  If the little information I’ve got isn’t substantial enough for the next mission.  Whatever information on the black dragon’s ecology that’s going to be discovered during the expedition is going to be invaluable.  I’ve got to record everything so we’re better prepared.  I earned my spot on the expedition, I have the most information, so I. Am. Coming!”

 

“Just because you’re the one that saw the signs first, just because you’re the one that put the puzzle pieces together, doesn’t mean that you’re the one to see this through to the end,” The Elite hisses.

 

The insult doesn’t stick, although it hurt momentarily, knowing he was only saying it to piss her off and make her not want to come along and be around him.  “You know as well as I do that I’m invaluable to this expedition.  I’m going to see everything you don’t, just like I saw the dots connecting between the monsters fleeing.  I’m the best chance you’ve got and I’m coming whether you like it or not”.  Did he not understand she was willing to die for this too?

 

He seemed to see her resolve for a moment, but then his eyes shuddered closed.  He turned on a heel and left ashy footprints on the floor of her cabin.  Pushing the door open to reveal the flurries of Seliana’s cold embrace.  A gasp of it flew in through the open door, leaving snowflakes melting on her rug and cold air filling the room.  “If you try to get on our caravan,” the Elite began, “I’ll shove you off of it”.

 

He walked out without closing the door, leaving the Tracker to stomp to the exit and slam it shut herself, not bothering to shout after the Guild Knight.

 

In the morning, she’ll wake and want to scream at hours old tracks in the snow that had left without her.  In the morning, she would find her own way to Castle Schrade.










There was a hole in the sky where the sun should have been.

 

The edges of it swirled, twisting space in on itself as the sky smoldered with dying color and light.  Pale yellow and red danced with navy twilight as though the world was caught in some strange amnesia.  Stars flickered in and out of vision like mice, frightened of this abyss that had been burnt into the heavens.  The Elite Lance yelled something that sounded like a warning.  She couldn’t understand the words, although a moment later the team tensed tight as ripcord.  A moment after that, so did she.  

 

Every hair on her body stood on end.  It was as if the universe ran taut, holding its breath in anticipation.  The energy was so strong she swore the air was singing with it, making some kind of low hum that reverberated out into the air and through her body.  An impending sense of dread hit her suddenly. Black dragons were breathing natural disasters, the most mysterious beasts that could only be categorized by how much they didn’t fit into any category at all; what hope did the Elites even have of coming out alive?

 

Although it was cast in silhouette, the Curious Tracker knew instinctively that the black dragon was crawling to the Castle Schrade through the black hole in the sky.  The Elites stood close, The Elite Lance spearheading the team with his shield up.  The Elite Blade stood beside him, his own shield raised as well, protecting the two more vulnerable Elite Gunner and the Elite Sword.  They stayed tight, and the tracker found herself somewhat jealous of their bond as she had many times before.  Protecting monsters and fighting to conserve, attempting to curb violence had not made her popular with the hunters, and rarely with the scholars.  It looked her in the face now, watching as the hole in the sky seemed to spread, great curved shadows spreading and lengthening.  The fingers of wings sliced the air, cutting through the tension that reverberated through the air like a knife.  It descended slowly, not circling like a bird, or diving with single-minded destruction; it lowered itself simply with great flaps of its massive wings, almost humble.

 

Her breath caught in her throat at the first glimpse of it against the crooked sky.  The black dragon was like nothing she had ever seen, but she knew immediately that the Commission heads were right; it was a Fatalis.  No pictures existed of this cataclysmic beast and next to nothing was known about it, other than its great wings, ability to wield fire and dragon energy to ruinous effect, and the black of its scales.  It’s body was anfractious yet angular, its neck curving with elegance that a crane only held a pale imitation of.  A crown of horns birthed spikes that trailed down its neck, being led further by a thick stripe of mane that flowed down its back to the end of a tail that fell with the heavy panache of a stole.  The fur appeared soft, weightless and silky, but something told the tracker that few things would be strong enough to damage it in any way.  It salivated fire, dripping ruin onto the cracked earth from a maw that could bite through the fabric of the universe.  Modest yet fearsome claws scored the earth as it prowled closer, advancing onto the Elites on its paler underbelly.  Its wings spread wide, a familiar gesture to make itself look bigger; a common intimidation tactic.  The tracker could only find herself mesmerized by the color, watching the wings fold open like a butterfly’s.  They swam with color, impossibly looking almost gaseous in the webbing.  The deep indigo of night seemed to float within the wings, slipping into a deeper, darker purple until it faded completely into a black so pitch it frightened her.

 

The Elites stood firm, although even a master squadron like them were put off by the monster’s steady advance.  Instead, their heads turned to assess the scene, only the Lance never unlocking his eyes from the advancing elder dragon’s.  Although she couldn’t hear words, she knew their mouths were moving, designating positions and movements that she would never be able to remember, let alone follow.  It was part of why she couldn’t become a hunter.

 

Her breath caught as the monster suddenly lunged forward, its bite connecting witht the Elite Lancer’s shield.  The others used the impact to spring out, like a spray of spread ammo.  The Gunner took off, heading for the high ground.  The Blade circled to the back, towards the great, sweeping tail of the beast.  With the Lancer successfully pushed back, and the others in seeming disarray, the Fatalis roared.  It’s wings spread wide, blotting out what little light there was, turning the castle grounds purple while the black hole hummed above them.  The fight had officially begun.

 

The Lance remained steadfast at the monsters front, tanking the hits with no great ease.  Each snap of teeth, each swipe of a mighty tail pushed him back, further and further, isolating him from the group that had spread.  When the Fatalis grew weary of his prodding, it turned to the others to attack, though the Lance always found a way to race back to them, to cover another attack.  Fire was spit, lighting the rock and stone of the castle ablaze, the Fatalis’s head swinging in an elegant arc.  It’s head low to the ground as it backed up, trying to find the largest span possible to cover.

 

The black dragon backed up further behind a rock, blocking her sight of him.  A bolt of frustration struck through her, forcing her from her hiding spot.  She glanced around the area, but found it barren of anyone except for the hunters and the elder dragon.  Confusion had her furrowing her brows, and as she hurried along in a crouch in her subtle, grey armor, she looked around.  Even in the dim light that grew bright with fire and bursts of gaseous attacks, not only could she see not one living thing, she couldn’t see any signs that anything was living here, or ever had been that were not ancient.  The vines that had climbed up the dilapitating stone walls had fossilized into stone themselves.  She brought a finger to a withered leaf and startled, watching it break and crumble to dust in a second.  She flipped her goggles down to take a closer look, finding the composition like that of something petrified.  Suddenly feeling fearful, she fell backwards as the ground shook and flames overtook the arena.  Blue light and a heat so powerful the stone protecting her was slowly melting overtook the arena beyond her sight.  She looked down to the ground.  There weren’t even slight ruts in the stone indicating that carrier ants had been here, which was a species that could live anywhere from volcanos to mangroves, making their nests in crystals, trees, anything.  

 

There was no life here.  Nothing wanted to live here.  It was as if the world had decided that this place was a graveyard, and anything that came across it knew it was not to be disturbed.  The Tracker suddenly felt self conscious, like she had transgressed; as though she had stepped on someone’s grave, or walked into a house she had no business entering.

 

But she was already here, so she thought to make the most of it.  So when the fire dimmed and the stone cooled, she used the tough metal grate that had rusted with time to scale the wall to the arena.

 

A moment after she pulled herself up, she watched the fight a bit longer.  The strange Fatalis was holding its own exquisitely well, the Elite hunters doing much the same though with clearly more effort.  Traces of green from a healing potion dripping from their faceplates, indicating the need to heal at least once from most of them.  She felt a kind of relief wash over her.  She hadn’t particularly liked or agreed with any of them, and although she knew it was unrealistic, she rather wanted everything to work out without bloodshed.  She had worked alongside these hunters, that dreamed of a place where none of them lived in fear of monsters, and she had hoped to one day sway them to her way of thinking; that they could live in harmony, rather than exterminating them like vermin.  

 

“What are you doing here?!”

 

The yell startled her and she turned to the side, catching sight of the Elite Gunner’s bronze armor gleaming in the firelight.

 

The Tracker flinched, stepping back.  “None of your business!” she hollered back, caught between looking the heavy bowgunner earnestly in the eyes and watching the fight unfold before her as the Fatalis let out a large plume of sparkling purple gas.  The Elite Blade began to cough, breaking her stance enough that with a swift spin, the Fatalis flung them into the wall of the stoney ruin.  She hit the wall with a crack, and a moment later, it fell down behind the hunter.

 

The Gunner cursed, sprinting to the canons.  Catching sight of the loaded iron balls, she shouted in protest too late as they were punched forward for rapid fire.  The first hit didn’t set the great fire drake off, but by the third he flinched, fire exploding on its chest, and as it turned one caught it in the jaw.  The black dragon roared in pain, overshadowing her own scream.  Bright orange sparked along its spikes, flowing from its head down its mane and back to the hand of its wings.  A violent amythyst color began to glow from its underbelly, ultramarine overtaking its wing webbing.  The faintest sparkle of stars now shone brightly, and orange eyes like twin dwarf stars lit up.

 

The next few moments happened in a blur.  One moment she was mesmerized by those eyes.  They were so intelligent somehow.  She had known the black dragon was smart, could see it in its movements and skill in battle, had seen how it realized it was being baited and was successfully scrambling the hunters with reasoning that should be beyond a monster, even if it was a black dragon.  Yet those eyes held some insurmountable emotion that went beyond just, “You hurt me, so now I will hurt you” .  It went deeper; it was beyond only that surface anger.  It was something closer to a cold hatred.  It was this that froze her, even as fire flew from its mouth towards her.

 

The next second she was being pushed, watching the eyes of someone that she didn’t necessarily like but had never wished harm upon look down at her.  Those eyes closed, and he was engulfed in flame.  Fire licked around the edges of the stone wall like a demon, and a few seconds later, a desiccated corpse tumbled ineligantly down to lay beside her.  She was dazed a moment with shock, before the smell of burning woke her.  Scrambling to her knees, she leaned over the Elite Gunner.

 

Her breath caught in her throat.  His skin was blackened, eyelids gone with one eye melted like jelly down his cheek, sizzling with the heat that still remained trapped in his body.  The other was molten yellow and a second after she looked at it, it popped, and hot liquid splattered onto her cheek.  She flinched instinctively and even though she knew she’d end up with burns later, it didn’t hurt.  Shock.  That was what numbed her now, watching as the Elite Gunner did not breath, did not move, did not speak.  Flesh was blackened, some of it liquified in the heat leaving down to his bones; cooked alive inside his armor.

 

At least it had been quick, she thought to herself, but even she felt guilt gnaw at her.  He had died saving her.  She knew the Elite Gunner, though not well.  He didn’t like her, but he had kept an air of neutrality around her.  Though some had held her with unease, as a colleague he had always treated her like an individual worth respecting, even though she knew he actively disagreed with her often and did not make an effort to get to know her.  She felt suddenly sick that a person had died for her sake, and realized with rapid understanding that more were going to die too.  If not them, then the magnificent, intelligent elder dragon would.  She wasn’t going to be able to convince them to leave: not now that their friend had been murdered by this monster.

 

Indeed, as she tearfully shifted the Elite Gunner to a small alcove and set his heavy bowgun upright in the universal signal of a hero’s grave and covered him with stones, she listened to the howls of pain the other Elites let out.  The Elite Sword’s voice rose above the others, cursing and crying the name of her friend.

 

A sudden quake shook the ground beneath her, and she found herself looking up a moment later.  The scene playing out before her chilled her veins to ice.

 

The massive black dragon, now alight with its colors of war, rose on its hind feet to roar in triumph.

 

And stuck in its chest, was the Elite Sword.

 

The Blade and the Lance screamed, calling the name of their friend, voices high with fear.  There was something satisfied on the face of the dragon that greatly disturbed her.  It’s orange eyes glowed with something like appreciation of impending conclusion to a project it had been working long and hard on.  It brushed to frantic attacks of the Elite Blade aside, and ignored the jabs the Elite Lance made.  She watched the Sword struggle fruitlessly against the elder dragon’s chest, grasping at air as it somehow sank deeper into the breast of the great beast.  The Tracker couldn’t understand what she was seeing.  It was as though the hunter was being absorbed , the way it sank into the skin and flesh of the monster, although there was no break in the skin.  The wispy deep purple gave way to wispy lilac, that smokily flowed around the hunter as it sank deeper into its skin.  

 

First, the hunters legs stopped flailing, taken in, only inciting more distraught and futile attacks from his friends that were similarly deflected.  His chest sank in, then its arm, and the dragon even looked down, pausing in its deflection to watch with disturbing fascination as the hunter’s head turned to take one last look at his friends.  He had dropped his sword early on, and reached with his one arm outstretched and screamed in pain for his leader to save him.  Distrubingly, his head slowly merged, overtaken by lavender fog.  Even after his head was absorbed, the arm that hadn’t continued to flail with wordless agony, grasping for anything, as though he might somehow pull himself out.

 

The dragon looked down at the remaining two hunters.  It wasn’t smiling, but something about it seemed pleased.  This is what happens when you attack me, it seemed to be saying.  This is how it all ends.

 

Yet still, the Elite Lance and the Elite Blade stood together, shields raised in front of them in wordless defiance of the impending death.  Let it come , they screamed wordlessly to the elder dragon.  We won’t go easily.  We have things we hold dear, and that is one another.  Even alone, we fight together.  That is what it means to be a hero.

 

The dragon almost seemed to understand, and a flicker of respect crossed its face.  How was it able to understand?  How could it know ?  It was by all means impossible, but this great being stood before them, emotional and aware, watching them separate for attacks as the beast closes its eyes, as though concentrating hard.

 

The Curious Tracker watches in horror as orange builds in the great beast’s mouth.  Cold white and sun-bright mist streams from between its teeth like fog coming down the mountain as the energy builds between powerful jaws.  The Elite Lancer seems to realize something and begins to run.  He is racing against time, towards his partner, who slashes on, uncaring of the monster’s impending attack.  She did not see his face, only watches with fear as he fruitlessly slams his shield into the ground and holds the Elite Blade around the waist and corrals them into his chest, side braced into the shield.

 

Blazing light, brighter than anything she’s ever seen blinds her.  There’s no heat, there’s no cold, but the air crackles with power and some sort of gravity tugs her forward, pulling her to the beam of light.

 

Her eyes blur and tear, and although the brightness of the beam has blinded her, creating spots of blue and black in her vision, she watches still as the bodies of the elite are taken, pulled into the beam as it sweeps across, pulling the two hunters into the light.  It’s all consuming, pulling rocks and stone, dragging plants growing from cracks in the ancient architecture out of their homes and into the light.  They disappear, the light too bright and full, leaving smears of red and blue in her vision.  Human eyes were not meant to see whatever was being done.  

 

Then, at last, the light is gone.  The Curious Tracker blinks rapidly, tears welling and streaming down their face from the stress.  No, not tears, they realize, looking at the gloved hand they wiped their eyes with.  Blood.  They pull their eyes from their hand to look beyond it at the landscape, still blinking the blur of light that had imprinted itself on their vision in its all consuming power.

 

They are gone.

 

There are no charred corpses to be seen, no armor that is left scorched, or weapon left to clatter to the ground to be staked into the ground above a grave in honor.  She understood all at once why monsters had been fleeing away from the area, even as far from Castle Schrade as they were.  If she had been a monster and had been able to sense power like that , she would have flown or ran or swam whatever distance needed to get to the other side of the planet.

 

She expected the Fatalis to roar in triumph.  To do something that indicated some sort of satisfaction in victory.  Instead, it shook itself out, orange energy gaseously releasing from its mane.  Purple and orange faded until they turned to its usual black and grey.  Its smoldering eyes turned a deep indigo once again, and it turned, twisting itself around, as though looking for any other hunters.  Surely it didn’t still believe itself to be under attack?  She watched from her alclove, unfolding a small pad of paper to take notes on with her charcoal.  She detailed the attacks she had seen in the fight meticulously, keeping quiet and feeling secure, if alert, in her hiding place of the alclove beside the grave of the Elite Gunner.

 

The great black dragon wove its way around rocks and walls, twisting and turning its great dark body around the castle easily, as though searching.  Its nostrils flared, purple energy expressing itself in huffs of its breath as it sniffed.  Each time it came upon a ballista, it seemed to curl its lips before crushing it under a great claw, and once with a shock of its tail as a whip.  Following closely using cover, she hid under half of a great metal hull of some kind, watching the monster from a puncture.

 

It looked over gouges in the hardened land with curiosity.  It reared back thoughtfully, tilting its head in a strangely human gesture.  Tentatively, it put its back foot forward and stepped into the claw mark.  Each of its toes lined up near perfectly, though it was cracked with age and worn smooth in other places by wind and weather.  It looked around carefully, stretching the claw of a wing into another score in the stone.  A front paw sank into a deep mark in the earth; a remnant of a paw that fit the monster’s toes almost exactly.

 

Something odd seemed to happen, watching the black dragon trace around remnants of a fight from millenia ago, watching as its feet, wings, fingers, tail were able to fit into marks either made by itself or from another like it long ago.  Its draconic face seemed to almost drop.  The Tracker was cautious about ascribing anything human like emotion to monsters, but the only way to describe what she was seeing was sadness .  Something terrible like longing or grief maybe seemed to well inside the monster’s eyes and at the sight of a nearly complete footprint it unearthed that fit its paw completely, it threw its head back and roared, reminding the Tracker of someone screaming their grief at a funeral.

 

She had never been near an elder dragon before, never mind a black dragon.  She had only been able to glean what she could from books and once, able to watch a demonstration of how Teostra powder reacts when sparked.  The energy, the color, the power behind it had enthralled her.  It had inspired a thirst in her for more knowledge on these strange and powerful creatures that could only be catagorized as Elder Dragons, and eventually, to the most mysterious and powerful one to date, being the Fatalis.  Now that the fighting had ceased, she was in awe at watching its calmer movements.  Even the less intelligent species like Anteka and Sharqs could fight.  Most things in this world could.  It took a special kind of sentience to be able to have problem solving skills, never mind expressing things more simple than anger and satisfaction.  This thing was showing emotion.   It was feeling, something that had been very rarely documented as true emotion and not just animal reactions.  

 

Her heart ached suddenly and violently for this great dragon.  Those scars in the earth were perhaps all the physical reminders it had left for the rest of its kind.  Fatalis had faded into obscurity, most only remembered by myth or song.  Just as she began feeling tears begin to prick at her eyes, the beast turned towards her.  She would have liked to say she ducked back into the hull to keep herself from being seen, but as her eyes connected to the indigo, all of the air left her lungs.  It had seen her.  The weight of its tremendous gaze bore down on her, and even as she felt the ground tremble as it slowly padded forward on all fours now, she could not bring herself to move or breathe.  The weight of its eyes pinned her, some kind of weight of power or presence holding her in place until it wrenched the hull of the ancient thing off of her.

 

She gasped for air suddenly and coughed as dust and grit flew through the air.  The wind smelled strange, like ozone or phosphorus and she coughed, falling backwards.  It watched her skitter like an insect, curling its lip with the same look of instinctive revulsion it had for the canons and ballista.  Its paw raised again, claws flexing outward in preparation of attack.

 

“W- Wait!” The Tracker cried out, arms outstretched.  In her panic she pulled her knife from her belt and threw it across the castle yard.  Turning back to the hulking dragon it seemed almost baffled.  At least its attack stopped.  It watched her, curiously, nostrils flaring as it scented the area, neck curved to watch her with its glowing eyes.

 

“I… I don’t want to fight,” she says weakly, dust and fear making her throat tighten.  “I just came to understand”.

 

The black dragon stares at her, great paw raised in prepared attack.  Violet eyes are trained on her in an inscrutible expression.

 

“Please.  I know you can understand me.  You… you were sad just now.  Were those your claw marks, or another dragon’s?” she asks desperately.

 

It stared at her still with the same odd look on its face.  She couldn’t tell if it was purposefully putting on a straight face because it didn’t trust her, or if it really didn’t understand her and her risky move of appealing to its emotions was costing her time.

 

“There were others, right?  We… we shouldn’t be fighting.  We could share this place.  It was your home once, wasn’t it?  Please,” she whispers, the monster’s bright eyes glaring down at her like twin stars.  “Please, I… I want to help you.  Tell me how to help you”.

 

Before she knew what was happening, her head nearly exploded with color.  As the beast’s mind collides with hers, the Curious Tracker suddenly understands that she was so wrong.

 

This thing was no mere animal.  This wasn’t some simple wyvern that was aggravated over a territorial dispute.  It had not come for food, for a mate, or even for energy.  Color and thought and light swept through her mind, so strong that she fell to her knees and did not feel the ground beneath her.  

 

She looked from a great height and watched as her chest was cleaved open, exposing lungs that screamed from her mouth in rage at her aggressor.  It was like nothing she had ever seen before.  Steel and scales stuck together unnaturally, puppet strings connected to ballistae that moved and shuddered strangely.  The entire thing was abnormal, and yet it breathed these congested, wet heaves from lungs that were different sizes, exhaling steam from a grate in its face made of metal where nostrils must have been hidden.  Its mouth opens from below, a maw full of stolen teeth shining with salivation.  Her, no, Fatalis’s soul wept for this terrible being who did not ask to be made or exist in an unnatural suffering that nothing should exist in.  In pity and justice, the Fatalis ripped the fiend’s arm from its shoulders.  Distracted by its attempt at freeing the freak from its chains of life, it did not see the puppeted claw until far too late.  Metal and keratin sliced raggedly up its, hers, his, their throat until it cleaves her skull and then they are spinning.

 

Through her flight, she saw their own skull cut open and a single eye socket empty and leaking the wine of an elder dragon’s blood.  They saw their kin coming forward to avenge them, flooding forward in fury and grief.  Separated from its body, the Fatalis’s eye flew high.  It flew so high that it was no longer flying, being pulled through by gravity into the hole in the sky.  It watched, unable to think without a mind as its body was pillaged by the insects of the ancient civilization, checking on its death as it was pulled through into inky blackness speckled with stars and swept away as the hole in the sky closed.

 

The eye had rolled for an eternity, slowly reconstituting itself, with the surrounding materials.  It needed nothing.  It wanted nothing.  It was a natural disaster that had survived through its own indomitable power, back from the edge to claim the place it had lost because it knew that although it belonged nowhere it had chosen here and would not give it up for something as simple as dying.  It had grown itself back, flesh and scales and blood and bone, shaped and formed from ice and rock and impossible gases from galaxies far from their own.  It had come back because this was its home, and even if that home has lost all the kin that made it a home, it didn’t change the fact that it was his.  He was the ruler of their world, completely above it in every way by simply taking no part in it.  He was intelligent.  He could feel, emote, and was sharing it all with her.  The sorrow, the grief, the longing for someone to understand.  He had spent eons roaring into the dark just to release his pain to something, for only silence to meet him.

 

Tears streamed down her face, knowing that she and her kind had swarmed the earth like hornetaurs and carrier ants, scavenging this place that had once been home to this great being, and her ancestors had driven it away with a puppet of flesh and metal that should have never existed, molded from flesh of its slain kin.

 

She wept and she felt his gaze sweep over her empathy, examining it, tasting it like a bitter wine.  Then, her own mind was cracked open and color split before her as her own life flashed before her eyes, flowing faster than water over a cliff.  Every triumph, every loss, all of her doubts and fears were laid bare before the monster.  He drank it all in and she was struck by the comparative mundanity of her life and found herself strangely embarrassed.  This great cosmic being had travelled and regrown itself from a single eyeball, yet here it was watching her life unfold with the interest of a felyne with a ball of yarn.  Curiosity sang plainly through her mind as memories flung themselves with scattered impulse against the cool organization of the beast’s mind.  It watched her follow, track, catch, and count all manner of monsters, from wyverns to temnocerans.  It watched as she pushed back, sometimes with growing fear, knowing that she would not be able to dissuade hunters from trying to reroute a monster rather than slay it.  It brushed soothingly over her psyche with a presence like cold fruit, icy and sweet as it watched a memory of her sobbing into her pillow early into her career when she had first watched a pack of Girros slain to protect her.  She had blamed herself, and still did to some degree.  If she had been quieter, stealthier, had just been able to run faster, they might not have had to die.

 

It watched her slay her first poacher, and watched the long bath afterwards.  How it seemed no matter how often she cleaned her armor there always seemed to be blood that she could feel, if not see.

 

Then it dove into her fascination, an inextricable sense of love when watching monsters roam; all overshadowed when she first discovered black dragons.  Years upon years of searching, finding stone tablets, songs handed down by mouth and stories only known by memory and never written down for fear of them being burned.  Secrets whispered about great black dragons that could come and destroy the world if they so desired.  Years of research and care and excitement and hope were pouring from her mind out before the Fatalis and she could not stop it.  It flew before her eyes and culminated into this moment of staring into each other’s eyes.  She was watching herself through the dragons eyes, colors she had no name for dancing strangely, and it watched himself through hers.  Every moment she had slaved for information on black dragons had led to this moment culminating in one thought of delirious love:

 

You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

 

She knew immediately if she were lucky enough to be let free she would be spending the rest of her life scouring the world for just a glimpse of his shadow, an imprint of his paw.  Anything.  Anything to bring her as close to this being as she was right now.

 

Fatalis pulled out of her mind so suddenly and all at once she fell backwards into a prone position, breathing heavily.  She stared into the gray sky, unseeing and unfeeling, only wishing she was close with the black dragon once again.  The world paled in comparison to what she had just seen through Fatalis’s eyes, seeing colors that humans couldn’t.

 

She felt him brush her psyche again and immediately she tried to open herself up to him again eagerly.  She hadn’t noticed he had put his paw down next to her until he was leaning over her, watching her openly.  Heat gathered in her cheeks as she felt the sudden senses impressed upon her.  She felt the dragons question plainly in her mind, the sudden increase in heat leaving her panting.  It was a question, though not spoken with words, merely letting her know of his own urges and a curious press of an offer.  The dragon’s arousal felt heavy on her tongue.  No images spun through her mind, the Fatalis’s mind only flowing smoothly over the surface of her own.  The presence was heavy and heated with lust and appreciation.

 

She couldn’t have thought of saying no.

 

Fatalis nuzzled into her, his muzzle so large it had to angle itself very specifically to press its mouth to her collar.  He was being remarkably delicate, and her mind fizzled with information being gathered.  Fine motor control at his size couldn’t be easy, yet Fatalis performed the act with utmost care, nosing his way along her body.  She couldn’t help the inquisitive noise that bubbled in her throat at the motion before thoughts flew behind her eyes: Fatalis nosing each other, pressing their breasts to one another and syncronizing their breathing.  Close, so close they could feel one another’s eternal heartbeat as they tapped their muzzles to one another’s cheeks in an intimate gesture.  Their necks would arch, tap each cheek like a kiss, before roving down one anothers spine, nibbling at perfect scales in amicable appreciation of one another.

 

“We do things similarly,” she whispered.  Fatalis’s eyes gleamed violet and orange with interest as it sifted her memories and pulling every kiss she had ever gotten to the front of her mind for him to see.  Seeing them again, they all paled and seemed plain before this experience.  She felt its curiosity heighten even further, flicking through memories of lips and tongue.  She felt its intent before she felt him move his mouth to hers and had instinctively opened it.  

 

She hadn’t even registered the tongue’s color before it hit the back of her throat and she choked immediately.  Appologetically, Fatalis pulled back and she coughed as it turned its head to look at her with concern.  “I’m fine,” she rasped.  “I was just unprepared.  We can go again”.  She opened her lips again and it was when just the tip of the tongue slid inside and filled her entire mouth that she realized that the black dragon was being cautious the first time.  Determindly, she worked, trying to suck the tongue futher into her mouth despite the size and the only place it could go being down her throat.  She felt the Fatalis send a thrill of amusement through her with bright sparks of excitement and curiosity.  She was suddenly reminded that this was the closest it had been to a human without it immediately making an attempt on its life.  It seemed the dragon was as curious about her as she was of it, and she was determined to prove herself satisfactory.  

 

She opened her mouth wider and soon found she couldn’t gag even if she wanted to due to the sheer size of the tongue slowly sliding down her throat.  She spasmed around it, but no sound escaped her, although certainly all air left her lungs.  Her eyes were shut tight and she would have worried her jaw would dislocate if she had the air to think.  Red spots danced in her vision as her body slowly went numb.  All she could feel was the slick velvet of the black dragon’s tongue as it delved deeper.  How much further could it even go before it reached her stomach?  It was this fear littered thought that had the dragon pulling its tongue back.  The drag was strangely erotic and the second she had air in her lungs she was using it to beg the beast to return its tongue to her lips.  She shifted her weight and found herself soaking between her legs, every part of her body alight with desire.

 

She wondered if it was something in the dragon’s biology that kept her whole as he ravaged her mouth.  His tongue plunged down her throat before drawing back just to do it again.  She’d have sucked his tongue if she could, twined hers with the Fatalis’s and lavished him with attention, but it was all she could do to withstand his curiosity.  He pulled back suddenly allowing just the tip inside her mouth, allowing her to breathe.  She brought her hand up to touch his jaw but instead her hand closed around the sticky, soft flesh of his tongue.  A rumble of amusement came from the black dragon’s throat, watching with amusement and desire as she desperately licked and sucked at the small part of the great beast’s tongue that she could handle herself.  It pressed her back to the ground with a careful paw before plunging its tongue inside once again.  She saw herself through its eyes as hers were shut once again under the onslaught.  She felt it’s lust build with the heat of stars that burned lightyears away, watching her struggle for him under the pressure of his love.  She watched herself be lavished, watched the way her jaw strained and throat swelled, rippling over the hot tongue fucking her throat.

 

A dizzying thought twisted its way through her mind of that tongue licking her pussy open.  The slick organ working its way into her, lapping up her wetness the way it tortured her throat.  The beast pulled away at once, excitement singing between them clearly.  It watched her expectantly as she caught her breath and clumsily tugged straps and strings loose to open her armor.  She couldn’t get it off fast enough, and based on the Fatalis’s impatient scuffing of the stone beneath its claws, it couldn’t wait either.

 

She laid back on the small bed of underclothes and armor, opening her legs halfway, eagerly.  Fatalis watched her, eyes intense as it crawled closer on its belly.  A paw came up and prised her legs open the rest of the way, stealing her breath again.  He gave her a devious look, opening his mouth again and showing off his sticky, purple tongue for her to see, before curiously tasting her.  Fatilis laved the tip of his tongue over the lips of her sex in a lick that lit her ablaze from the inside.  She raised her hips with it instantly, wanting nothing more than to follow the movement but was held back by Fatalis’s paw pressing her to the cracked stonework.  A cry left her lips, hoarse but full of desire when the tip of his tongue brushed her clit in a long stroke.  Something zipped through her mind, frantic and so fast she couldn’t register it until she was able to scrabble at the feeling again after the lick.

 

He had enjoyed her taste.  Not only that, but the desire in him had stoked, and now he wanted more.

 

She found herself forced open quickly, the black dragon pressing as much of his tongue into her at once as he possibly could.  She yelped, a quick streak of pain lighting her hips with electric heat before it dulled and she was moaning aloud into the castle ruins as the Fatalis devoured her.  Orange had begun to light his mane, violet and blue pearling in his scales as he eagerly licked into her.  The tongue stroked every spot inside her, fucking her properly and filling her further than she ever thought she could, working more and more of his tongue into her.  Tears streamed down her face and she clutched the claws holding her down and cried out wordlessly in pleasure.  

 

It was too much.  She delieriously tried to tell the dragon so, tried to tell him to slow, to ease her rather than lavishing her in licks, tongue writhing and fucking her so full she could not speak or hear or see beyond the dragon.  It either didn’t care, didn’t understand, or misinterpreted her because if anything, it seemed to quicken and move with even more voracity.  The tongue twisted inside her before pulling away and lashing quick and agile strokes against her clit.  She cried out, straining her hips that twitched, either to move closer or away, she couldn’t tell.  The fast strokes felt harsh as whips and left her cunt twitching around nothing as she cried out for mercy.  None came.  

 

Instead, the tongue lashed her harshly one last time, leaving her puffy cunt red and oversensitive before sliding back inside, deeper than before.  The dragon triumphantly let her know he had successfully gotten his entire tongue inside her, delighting in her taste.  She was so gone she barely noticed the thought before she was gone .  She thought maybe she screamed, but she couldn’t say for sure.  She watched herself twitch around the monsters tongue, working frantically inside her as she gushed around his tongue.  It worked her rapidly.  Time became meaningless.  Her entire body was alight with orgasm, and nothing mattered except pleasing the black dragon with her taste and the overstimulated orgasm it had pulled from her.  It felt as though he were licking her soul, tongue sliding in and out of her and savoring her flavor.

 

She pressed against his mind and he indulged her a moment after finally licking all of her orgasm from her hips.  The Fatalis pulled back, arching his neck with the grace of a swan as he peered down at her.  Saliva dripped from his maw and and he lecherously licked his scaled lips, watching as she rested a moment.  He lifted his paw and she stretched her strained hips, allowing them to close a moment.  She felt him send her a slight thread of disappointment at not looking at her, though she saw clearly he was glad to have pleased her.

 

“I would like to please you as well,” she whispered, though he plainly felt her.

 

His eyes sparked orange with interest.  Fatalis pulled back before settling against the stonework beside her.  He nudged her, helping her up and astride him.  The feeling of his scales were strange on her sweat-slicked skin.  Smooth like glass, the scales of his underbelly were small and fine, like grains of sand compared to the larger more protective plates along his back and sides.  As she resettled herself, she felt along the hide.  Even the small plates felt strong, the hide undulating as she felt the great beast breathe.  The movements sparked light along her fingers, the umbral purple giving way to sparks of white and wisps of spectral color as though a galaxy lay beneath.  Her fingers followed a wisp of orange to s slight divot in the scales.  Her eyes flicked up to Fatalis’s face, the beast’s eyes following her every movement intently.  He craned his neck so he was close to her body again, nuzzling her side encouragingly.  A rumble erupted from his throat, sounding loud as thunder in her ear as he encouraged her without words.

 

Should she use her mouth?  Her hands?  What sort of genetailia would a monster of this size have?  She sifted his mind, pressing against walls but for once, the black dragon revealed nothing.  She pressed against barriers of smug lust, teasingly keeping her out.  The only way to know would be to find out.  Taking a deep breath, the Tracker slide herself down until she was laying propped up agains the belly of the beast, hind to his chest and mouth to his slit.  It lay horizontal to her; she found the plated scales that lay along it flexible and smooth, soft and pliable.  Her fingers stroked, testing the feel of it, her finger dipping in easily.  She made a noise of surprise as the black dragon rumbled and a teasing sense of pleasure threaded through her mind.  More determined, she swallowed the saliva building in her mouth and nestled closer, using her fingers carefully.  Slowly, she stroked along the slit.  Orange flushed around the area, the flesh seeming more swollen and bulging outward with arousal revealing pale, lavender flesh beneath the scales and forming a proper sheathe.  

 

The Tracker panted under the weight of the arousal the Fatalis pressed into her mind, cunt quivering with its echos.  She ached for him, to be filled, and she knew he felt similarly.  Her mind a fog of lust, her head hung loose atop her neck until a string of clear liquid fell from her vision and dripped into the knot of flesh before her.  Her mouth hung open, drooling as her mind filled with visions of want.  He desired her, desired for her to take him into her mouth and she could not refuse even if she had wanted to.  She bowed with open tongue to the slit, eyes half closed.  

 

She licked, pressing her tongue inside and circling a small hole in the knot of flesh.  The rumble became louder, the black dragon’s chest vibrating under her pussy, sending her gasping into his sheathe.  She sucked at the second ring of flesh, hand coming up and below the swollen sheathe hidden behind the scales to press from behind, hoping to bring more pleasure and free him.  Progress came in a rush of startlingly black fluid.  It was black, yet iridescent as oil, shimmering in the low light of Schrade.  Were she more aware she may have thought twice, but instead she caught the fluid on her tongue, drinking the black dragon’s arousal greedily.  The taste was indescribable.  It filled her mouth easily, just the small dribble of it, yet more followed quickly.  She licked and sucked the ring of muscles, feeling them contract and relax, reacting to her every caress.  Her fingers and tongue grew braver, fingers dipping and swirling inside to coax the beast free.  Her hands teased, pulling away to make room for her tongue and lips to suck.  She kissed the ring of muscle and sucked, swallowing the black liquid.  She felt full and dazed, body hot and pliable.  I could taste you forever, she tried to convey.  She wasn’t sure if the monster understood, the fabric of their shared pleasure woven tightly around them like a blanket.  She clutched at his waist as she licked.

 

Her fingers tapped the scales around the slit with interest and she shuddered as a wicked idea sprung to the front of her mind.  She teased the opening with her hand and it gave way easily, stroking the flesh with promise.  Her fingers prodded curiously at the ring of flesh and she delighted at how easily they gave.  They parted, giving her a slight view of the second ring of lavender flesh.  It took her fingers like they were nothing, slipping inside easily with a gush of black fluid following.  So much liquid bursted forth, it dribbled down his hips in heavy rivulets.  She watched them, mesmerized as her fist sank inside.  The black dragon growled in pleasure as she pressed deeper up to her elbow.  Shockingly warm, the flesh parted easily to her and she could only go deeper, halting just shy of her shoulder, halfway up her bicep.  She pressed against the walls in stroking motions, the great monster singing pleasure to her in growls and purrs.  Her grasping hand found a thick rod of flesh and she wrapped her fingers around it clumsily inside, stroking frantically with excitement.  Her lips pressed forward alongside her arm, slipping out some, in order to press her kisses to the slit.

 

The Tracker felt something press against her lips.  It was stiffer than the surrounding skin and slick with black.  She opened her mouth, licking and sucking as she felt the beast’s cock slowly work free.  The tip slipped into her mouth, fluid basking on her tongue.  She eagerly worked it free with hands, lips, and tongue, eyes opening as the cock slipped out.  Pale lilac gave way to a similarly colored cock.  Half of it had sprung free and a reptilian noise of pleasure reverbeated through the air.  The Tracker got back to work, using her black-coated hand to stroke the massive cock with her mouth at the joining of the slit.  The flesh swelled, hot and slick under her tongue as the Fatalis used voiceless encouragement to press on.  With each throb of blood below the skin, another soft ridge and bump was revealed.  Finally, every delicious curve and bump was revealed to her.  

 

The dragon was massive, thick and ridged with bumps in a way entirely foreign to her.  Even so, she delighted in stroking him, fingers sliding over each knot of flesh, down to the slit it protruded from, toying with the rings of muscle.  It had to be entirely unmanageable, but as soon as the thought crossed her mind, the black dragon pressed against her conciousness with insistence.  He sang her images of her taking the tip, sliding the length inside her, mouth agape and hair wild with black around her mouth, dripping from her nethers as she rode the beast.  Black splattered across her breasts, the massive cock sliding inside until a bulge formed in her stomach as though pregnant.

 

She couldn’t stop herself from not trying.  The Tracker scrambled to Fatalis’s amusement, frantically trying to slip further down to take him.  The width of him made her hesitate, the large, blunt head pressing against her all the more real now that she was about to make an attempt.  She rested against his plated stomach, opening her hips up as wide as she could while facing him.  The Fatalis watched her expectantly, orange starting to glow and creep in lashes across his scales and mane.  She felt herself flush as the dragon’s paw raised and gently nudged her down with encouragement.

 

Even after he had licked her open on his wide tongue, taking the cock was intense.  Her head swam as the tip of the cock pressed to the slick opening of her pussy.  The tip slid away and she gasped as the bumps and ridges stroked over her cunt and clit.  Black spurt from the tip, drenching her pussy.  It felt hot suddenly, far hotter than it had been, and she resettled against the tip, trying again.  Another gush of fluid from the cock, breaching past where the cock hadn’t passed yet, filling her insides.  She was breathing heavily, heat racing through her as the fluid was forced inside.  She made small, needy movements, moaning as she was spread wider and wider until finally the tip of the black dragon’s cock pressed past the tight ring of muscle.  Fatalis let out a louder growl, nearing a roar and she cried out at the vibration it sent through her.  She spasmed on the tip of the cock.  It felt as though the beast had already filled her completely, and yet, she still had further to go.  The dragon urged her on.  While it continued to be a tight fit, there was no pain, only heat and desire.  She rose and fell, getting a little further down the length with each attempt.  The paw at her back stroked with rough pads encouragingly.

 

She looked down dizzily, looking at the last bit of cock she had yet to fit and found herself astounded she had taken as much as she had.  Black drenched her, knees in his hip hollows and pooled around her.  It won’t fit any further, she couldn’t help but think.

 

The great hand on her back suddenly closed around her waist.  “Wait-” she whispered, throat raw, before she screamed as she was suddenly pulled downwards onto the beast’s cock.  Everything was white and hot as she came around him all at once.  She clenched around his impossible girth and he roared, orange gleaming in her vision that had blurred from tears.  He fucked into her, his patience worn through with her settling.  The rapid movement was too fast and startling, the pace too vicious for the softness that came through their connection.  He pressed affection and wordless praise against her mind.  She would have been worried he could barely understand her own insanity if she had the thought to spare.  Everything had been taken over by the rapid movement of the monster’s cock.  Each ridge pressed and slid against every soft and secret place inside her, each bump nudged against a sweet spot she didnt know she had.  With every thrust, knots of flesh bullied her clit.  The black gushed from her on every thrust, leaking from his cock into her, then out again as he filled her with his cock.  She shook with every movement, not knowing when one orgasm began and anther ended.  It seemed endless, mouth agape and drool sliding down her chin.  She felt a slick tongue lick her cheek before diving back inside her mouth to plunder her once again.  It went deeper than before, licking down, so deep she thought he was in her lungs.

 

She was utterly full of him, impossibly so.  He slowed a moment, orange and purple lighting up her vision when he roared, forcing her down on his cock impossibly deep.  He pressed his tongue down her throat and she chocked around it, vision whiting.  Black surged inside her, feeling heavy and round with cock and seed, filling her further than she ever should have been able to be filled. 

 

She couldn’t have been sure how long they stayed like that, reptilian rumbles echoing through her, cunt twitching with every vibration.  Eventually, the Fatalis slid out of her, tongue first allowing her to cough, heaving air into her lungs again.  Cock followed, the Fatalis pulling her tenderly off of him with his paw.  When she reached the tip, her pussy caught on the ridge stubbornly, refusing to let him go.  He rumbled affectionately and pulled a little harder before he sprung out with a wet sound, black seed spilling from her pussy and dousing them in shimmering, black love.

 

He allowed her rest and licked her clean, lapping at her nethers with slow and gentle strokes when she protested, shivering with overstimulation.  It lay beside her for a long time, but soon, the great black dragon rose to his hind legs, looking up.

 

The great black hole in the sky seemed to gleam, the edges turning orange, the violet.  He looked to her and she knew from his face that it was time for him to part from her.  The thought of it was enough to make her cry.  She let out a wordless sob.  Weak and unable to walk, she desperately grasped for him.  The great dragon cooed, lowering his head so she could hold his face with her entire body.  She begged him every way she could, every way she knew how, with her mind and with words, but the dragon held firm.

 

It was instinct.  The dragon wanted to stay, but his instincts drove him to the portal in the sky.  He knew it would take him where he belonged.  She saw him coming through again, to meet her in this place once more.

 

“Promise me you’ll come back,” she wept against his nose.  “Promise!”

 

Fatalis reared suddenly and curled his neck in a great arch.  The Tracker gasped as he yanked his head away, a glimmering black scale in his teeth.  A bare patch sat over his chest.  The scale fell from his lips to her lap, covering her nethers.  She held it in her hands a moment, watching the light dance across its edges like an obsidian knife.  She took a cord of leather from her nearby, discarded armor and used it to wrap around it and make a necklace, pulling it over her head.  The beast watched her, eyes glimmering with satisfaction.

 

“I love you,” she said, the words tumbling out of her as though she couldn’t control it.

 

He rumbled, and an intense feeling passed between them.  He bent to her, her mouth opening automatically and just the tip of his tongue graced her mouth before sliding out.  His wings opened and she watched as he rose with ease through the sky, flying higher and higher until he was dwarfed by the black hole and was only a glimmer of orange and purple.

 

Then he was gone, and she was left with her hand clenched around his promise of return.

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed! As always, let me know if you spot any spelling mistakes, tell me how good or not-good this was, what you did and didn't like, etc etc.

You can find me on Tumblr and Twitter at beastfeast87 and beast54feast respectively.