Night wrapped around the training grounds like a blanket. The moon hung full overhead, turning the crystal grass silver. Null and Sierra faced each other, twenty feet apart. His cosmic scales rippled with starlight, and her white scales gleamed like ice.
No words. No rules. Just two dragons ready to fight.
Sierra's tail flicked once. Twice. Then she moved.
She came in low and fast, wings tight against her body, claws extended for a grab rather than a slash. Testing him. Null shifted his weight left, letting her pass by inches. His tail whipped around to catch her ribs. She twisted mid-stride, his tail hitting air, her wing slamming into his side. The impact sent him sliding, but he was already moving, using the momentum to spin into a claw strike.
Sierra ducked under it, her own claws raking across his chest. Shallow cuts—she was holding back. Null grabbed her extended arm, pivoted on his back leg, and threw her. She spread her wings instantly, catching the air, turning the throw into a controlled flight. Ice-blue eyes locked onto his. She was smiling.
She dove at him from above. Null waited until the last second, then jumped straight up, meeting her mid-air. They collided hard, claws locked, wings beating for dominance. Sierra was stronger than she looked. They spun through the air, neither giving ground. Null tucked his wings suddenly, deadweight pulling them both down. Sierra tried to compensate, but he'd already shifted, getting his tail around her neck, using their falling momentum to flip her beneath him.
They hit the ground with Sierra on the bottom. She rolled with it, back legs coming up to launch him off. Null flew backward but landed on his feet, already charging back in. Sierra met him head-on.
The following exchange was pure violence. Claws met claws in rapid combinations. Strike, block, counter, dodge, strike again. Sierra fought like winter—sharp, clean, efficient. Every movement flowed into the next. But Null thrived here, in the chaos of combat. His body moved without thought, Genius Mind processing everything but not controlling. Just flowing.
He caught her tail sweep with his wing, spun inside her guard, and shoulder-checked her backward. Before she could recover, he was on her, claws pinning her wings, weight driving her down. She headbutted him, stars exploding across his vision. Her tail wrapped around his back leg, yanking him off balance. They rolled across the ground, each trying to gain top position.
Sierra ended up on top, trying to pin his wings. Null bucked hard, throwing her up just enough to get his back legs between them. He kicked out, launching her into the air. She spread her wings to stabilize, but he was already airborne, slamming into her before she could react. They tumbled through the sky, a tangle of scales, wings, and violence.
Null got his wings free first, banking hard left. Sierra followed, ice forming on her claws—her element manifesting. She swiped at him, leaving frozen trails in the air. He barrel-rolled through them, the ice shattering against his scales. Close enough now. He grabbed her wings where they met her body, folded them against her, and let gravity take them both.
Sierra struggled but couldn't break his grip. They plummeted toward the ground. At the last second, Null spread his wings, slowing just enough. He slammed Sierra into the crystal grass, creating a crater. Before she could recover, he had her pinned properly—her wings trapped under his knees, her neck under his forearm, and her tail caught under his.
She thrashed once, testing. No give. She relaxed, breathing hard.
They stayed like that for a moment. Both panting, wings trembling from exertion, scales scraped and bleeding in places. Null's face hurt from her headbutt. Sierra had claw marks across her sides. The training ground around them was destroyed—craters, torn grass, ice shards everywhere.
But Null was grinning. A wide, genuine grin that he couldn't stop. This was what he'd missed. Not training, not careful technique, not calculated improvement. Just pure, chaotic combat. No stakes, no desperation, just the thrill of fighting someone who could fight back.
Sierra started laughing. Still pinned, still defeated, but laughing like she'd won something.
"Was it fun?" she asked between breaths.
Null released her, stepping back. His grin hadn't faded. "Yes. It was fun."
Sierra rolled to her feet, shaking ice crystals from her scales. "You fight like a maniac. All that calm observation Aurora mentioned? Gone. You turned into something else entirely."
"I like fighting."
"No," Sierra corrected, stretching her sore wings. "You LOVE fighting. There's a difference. I saw your face when we were in the air. Pure joy."
Null didn't deny it. Couldn't, really. She was right. In those moments of chaos, when everything was movement, instinct, and violence, he felt more alive than at any other time. Not the cold analysis Genius Mind gave him. Not the careful progress of training. Just… alive.
"Again?" Sierra asked, already dropping back into a ready stance.
"You sure? I won."
"This time. Next time might be different." Ice began forming around her claws again, thicker this time. "Besides, when do we get to fight without the queen watching?
Null dropped into his own stance, tail swaying with anticipation. "First to three wins?"
"Deal. But this time—" Sierra's eyes gleamed with mischief, "—no holding back."
Null's grin split wide, showing teeth.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
He didn't wait. He exploded forward—starlight given violence. Sierra met him head-on, taking the impact instead of dodging. Thunder cracked at their collision. The shockwave sent ice shards and debris flying, and the ground beneath them split from the force.
This wasn't a dance. It was war.
Sierra's ice-claws pierced his shoulder deep. Null's claws answered across her chest, red blooming on white scales. The pain just fed the fire in his chest. He spun hard, using his weight to throw her off-balance. She was already adjusting, twisting mid-motion to slam her shoulder into his ribs. Air burst from his lungs. The grunt that escaped him was equal parts pain and pleasure.
They broke apart, assessing damage. Sierra's breathing came faster now, her pristine scales marked with deep gouges. Ice spread from Null's shoulder wound, his cosmic scales fighting to burn it away—two forces at war under his skin.
"Better," she breathed, laughing. "Much better."
No response time. Arctic wind erupted from her maw—not focused but everywhere at once. Null's wing came up on instinct, ice coating it instantly. The weight slowed him. He used it. Tucking the frozen wing tight, he spun on his back legs, coiling like a spring. Then released.
He shot at her legs low and fast. Sierra jumped back—not fast enough. His tail swept her feet. She hit hard. He was on her before she could recover, weight pinning her completely. The exchange had been seconds of pure violence. His grin returned. No thought required. His body just knew.
"One-zero," he rumbled.
Sierra bucked against his hold. "Lucky shot."
"Was it?"
"You surprised me." She tested his grip again. "Let's go. No groundwork. Air only."
Null considered, then stepped back. She was pushing him somewhere new. His genius mind started cataloging her patterns, tells, and preferences. He shut it down hard. This wasn't a puzzle. It was a feeling.
"Air it is."
They launched skyward, twin streaks against moon-bright clouds. The world fell away—shattered ground, silent castle, distant mountains—just them and the endless sky.
Sierra transformed in the air. She didn't just fly—she commanded three-dimensional space. Wind currents became weapons. Air pressure turned to shields. She climbed high then dropped, a white comet of frozen fury. Null met her with pure offensive instinct, no calculation, just explosive force.
They spiraled through the night, locked in aerial combat. Null's body became a compass, pointing not where she was but where she'd be. When she dropped suddenly, feigning retreat, he didn't chase. He dove instead, knowing she'd bank hard and attack from below. Met her mid-maneuver, claws raking her flank.
Her shriek mixed frustration and genuine surprise. The thrill that shot through him bordered on intoxication. She hadn't expected that. He'd gone beyond strategy—he was fighting on pure instinct, matching her frequency.
Sierra broke away, white vapor trailing from her nostrils. When she turned, her whole body trembled. Her eyes had changed—no longer just playful but burning with something fiercer.
"Again," she demanded, voice promising pain and glory. "This time, for real."