The elf, however, smiled knowingly even while struggling against my iron grip on his throat, and then it happened—immediately, without us ever anticipating or expecting it. A complex magic circle materialized suddenly behind him out of thin air, glowing with an ethereal, otherworldly green color that shimmered hypnotically. Strange runes I had never seen before in any text adorned its intricate edges, pulsing with ancient power.
"Dodge now!" I heard urgently in my mind, the warning clear and desperate. Even our mental voices had somehow fused completely with each other, blending into one consciousness. So I instantly let go of the elf in my hand and vanished from directly in front of him, teleporting myself in a blur to the distant tower top. The movement came so naturally, so instinctively, like I had been performing this exact maneuver for centuries rather than attempting it for the first time. But I didn't have even a moment to dwell on or marvel at my newly found temporary power. Because precisely where I had been hovering just a millisecond before, a massive pillar of roaring fire reaching all the way to the ground suddenly erupted violently from the glowing circle.
"Damn parasitic elves," Aiona muttered darkly in our shared consciousness.
"Don't be surprised by their capabilities. They've learned to convert raw magic into devastating attacks like that," she added with grudging respect.
That magical fire pillar looked absolutely terrifying, the flames white-hot and all-consuming. If I had been even a single millisecond slower in my reaction, I would have been burned to a crisp, reduced to ash.
"No, you wouldn't have," Aiona corrected me immediately, reading my thoughts.
"One thing you can actually be proud of is this—as dragon kin, you won't ever burn from any flame other than dragon flame itself. Ever. Regular fire can't touch you," she added matter-of-factly.
"Then why the hell did you tell me to dodge?" I asked, confused by the absurdity of the situation.
"I just wanted to show you the teleportation trick in action," I could practically sense her shrugging nonchalantly in our shared headspace, her tone dismissive. "Eh—seemed like a good teaching moment."
I mentally facepalmed hard. "Stupid dragon," I let out in exasperation within my mind.
"I heard that!" the deep, husky voice retorted back immediately, offended.
The elf had now settled himself comfortably in a blue-colored glowing magic circle beneath his feet—much smaller than the previous one—which I correctly assumed allowed him to float and hover in midair. He had turned to face directly toward me, locating where I stood on the tower. His unsettling grin widened considerably, showing teeth.
"We are going to wake the entire castle at this rate with all this magical commotion," I observed with concern.
"Oh, that's an easy fix—" the next thing I knew, immediately after Aiona said those casual words, she simply snapped our shared fingers with decisive finality and the whole scenery around us changed instantaneously and completely. Suddenly we were surrounded by sand stretching endlessly in all directions. She had teleported both me and the elf simultaneously to an entirely different location. Compared to my confused, disoriented self, struggling to process the sudden change, the elf didn't even seem remotely fazed or surprised.
We now stood in the middle of massive sand dunes, as far as the eye could possibly see in every direction. And it was completely deserted, not a soul in sight. This might very well be the actual desert I would have to cross eventually on my long journey to Arap, I realized.
"Yes, this is exactly it," Aiona confirmed my suspicion immediately. So dragons could apparently travel what would take humans two weeks in a single second. Got it. Noted.
Then the elf snapped his own fingers in response. Multiple glowing red magic circles appeared menacingly behind him—red and threatening, pulsing with dark energy. And horrifying deformed wolf-like monsters began pouring out steadily from those circles like water from a tap. They were pitch black as if carved directly from the depths of hell itself, and their twisted bodies constantly oozed with a thick black substance that looked sticky and viscous and smelled absolutely rotten, putrid. Their eyes burned bright red with malevolence.
So we simply floated upward into the sky, effortlessly evading those snapping claws and gnashing jaws. Then those creatures howled in frustration, their bodies deforming grotesquely into sticky tar, and they reformed themselves into giant predatory birds that closely resembled massive hawks.
"Freaking black magic users," Aiona tsked with disgust.
The monstrous birds flew toward us like arrows released from bows, with singular deadly aim. More continued flooding endlessly from the still-open glowing magic circles below.
Before the monster hawks could actually hit us and tear us apart, we had burned all of them completely with a single uttered word of power.
"Frone," we commanded, and those things ignited and burned like crisp, dry wood—crackling loudly and falling down as ash. And they burned for a surprisingly long time, the flames consuming them completely.
But still there were more creatures, endlessly spilling out of those persistent circles in waves. I found it genuinely impressive despite the danger. These elves could convert the magic they had absorbed into something this terrifying and powerful. The elven magic system and their sophisticated spells were clearly not something to underestimate or dismiss.
"Is there a way to end this confrontation fast?" I asked Aiona after yet another round of magical fireworks and burning monsters.
"There is one method," Aiona said, but she hesitated noticeably. That reluctance was completely unlike her usual confident demeanor.
"Then do it immediately," I urged her, confused and concerned by her uncharacteristic behavior.
Then she said it, her mental voice grave.
"Forbidden magic: Dragon Reversal—Black Hole."
The world itself seemed to stop completely, time freezing. In the night sky, suddenly there appeared a blazing sun—hot and scalding, impossibly bright. The barren desert was instantly filled with lush vegetation and plant life. And then it opened—right behind me, a hole materialized. So utterly black you couldn't see the end or beginning, just absolute void. It hummed ominously with concentrated energy, and the powerful suction immediately started.
Finally, I could actually see the ambient magic in the air made visible—like countless light particles of various colors floating intensely into the black hole's pull. The vegetation that had just appeared soon lost all its vibrant color rapidly, drying into brittle crisps as I watched the light embedded within it dissolve and fly inexorably into the consuming hole.
The elf fell hard onto the ground, groaning in obvious pain. Light particles of rainbow colors began floating from his body steadily and fast, being pulled away. Visible pain contorted his normally composed face. Even the sun itself started losing color and brightness, being drained.
It was absolutely terrifying to witness. And I could feel even my own magic being slowly drawn into it, pulled by that insatiable hunger.
The elf visibly aged rapidly before my eyes in a matter of mere seconds. His smooth skin wrinkled, his hair whitened. He dropped pitifully onto the ground, weakened beyond measure.
"That's enough. Stop it," I told her firmly. There was no immediate answer from Aiona.
"You're going to kill him if you continue," I added urgently.
"He is Arvid's savior! Arvid would be devastated and heartbroken if something terrible happened to him." That argument was finally heard and acknowledged.
"Forbidden Magic: Dragon Reversal: Black Hole: Close," Aiona commanded reluctantly.
Then instantly we were back in the normal desert—just sand and darkness. The elf wheezed weakly on the ground, still terribly weak and frail. His body remained old and fragile from the draining.
"What was that?" I yelled at Aiona furiously in my mind. "You said we were just going to scare him! You were actively trying to kill him!"
"Of course I was going to kill him," she retorted back unapologetically. "He used a charming spell on my mate! He absolutely deserves to die for that transgression!"
"Besides, nobody would ever know that we killed him. There are no witnesses out here in this desert," she cooed, slithering around my conscience like a serpent, tempting. "It would be so easy."
"He's just a small pest that needs eliminating," she added dismissively.
"No. Absolutely not," I said with absolute firmness, drawing a line.
"Arvid is only still alive because of him—you cannot and will not forget that crucial fact. There would be no mate for you at all if he hadn't saved Arvid from those assassins." I added firmly, refusing to budge.
She just made a frustrated tsking sound but acquiesced.
Then we walked slowly toward the prone elf, who was still wheezing painfully, struggling to breathe.
"Have you had enough, or should we do several more rounds of magic suction?" I asked him coldly.
The elf couldn't even talk or form words, too weak. I felt a small pang of pity toward him despite everything.
So I consciously let out some of my magic into the atmosphere around him, offering healing. He siphoned it greedily, desperately, but notably didn't dare try to take more than what I freely offered.
"Why the hell did you do that to me?" I asked the now partially cured elf, his appearance returning closer to his normal self. "Why attack me?"
"Answer me truthfully," I added with commanding authority.
"I'm deeply sorry," Arandial wheezed, his voice raspy.
"I got greedy and lost control. I know I should have just absorbed passively what magic you naturally spill, but I wanted more and more, until I couldn't control myself anymore. I fell completely into the dangerous temptation of power," he confessed.
"Please forgive me, mistress of the night—Aiona," he said, bowing his head in submission.