BOOM!
A sharp blue wave of lightning burst out of Simma like a furious heartbeat of the heavens, spiraling in a wide circle and devouring the air around him.
The dazzling wave expanded with a thunderous roar, shredding through the missiles flying toward Goody, snapping arrows mid-flight, and scattering their broken tips like rain. The air crackled, humming with residual static as the light slowly dimmed.
Goody, with the serpentine grace of a born predator, twisted mid-air, his long scaled body rippling like water as he steadied Simma upon his back.
The dragon's wings fluttered once, then twice, each beat echoing like the toll of a bell before he hovered once again, balancing his master.
Simma's breaths were shallow, trembling. His body felt hollowed out, every inch of his skin burning with fatigue.
"Goody," he muttered hoarsely, "we need to free the slaves." His voice faltered, drained of strength, but the dragon understood.
