The Balrog moved first.
Its foot struck the stone and the ground trembled at its weight. The fire of its mane intensified as it ran in cracks down its body like rivers along its arms. The heat rolled across the room with an intensity that made the heat of my own flames seem like embers in comparison.
I shifted slightly to face it directly, my eyes scanning the terrain to look for advantages.
The ceiling pressed low, a constant reminder of the limitations a flyer like me will face in this struggle. The pits carved into the floor would work for me as I could take to the air with more ease than a balrog if his weight to wing size ratio is correct. It was stronger than me.
The Balrog raised its arm as the molten flame condensed in his hand forming a weapon, shaped like a mace.
I twisted aside as the first swing came in and smashed into the rock wall beside me.
Steam and shrapnel pelted my scales, though I barely felt them.
The mace, being a weapon of flame instead of metal, melted the rock until momentum was lost. A three-foot gouge was left in the stone.
I did not see the return swing coming. He tried to backhand me with his right hand while switching the mace to his left mid-combat.
The mace slammed into my shoulder, agony ripping through me.
I roared in pain and spewed my own fire. The breath left my jaws in a wide arc that flooded the cavern and kissed up against the Balrog.
He ignored it.
The beast plunged through my flame like a bull, slamming into me with the full weight of its body.
Knowing I could not let it pin me, I twisted mid-fall to land beside it as we both hit the floor.
The Balrog reached for my wing and gripped the membrane as I rolled away, trying to create distance.
A tearing sensation spiked through me as I screamed in pain.
My right wing was ripped and cauterized.
As I moved away it rose again, walking toward me with the slow, steady pace of a predator stalking prey.
That pissed me off.
Roaring, I jumped as high as the ceiling allowed and dove down, hoping momentum would make up for the weight disadvantage.
He braced as I slammed into him, my shoulder throbbing, as I slammed him into the cavern wall.
Dust and debris rained on us as he struck the side of my face with his closed right fist.
My head snapped to the side as my jaws clamped shut on air.
My left claw was not idle as it struck his ribs at the same time.
It roared in pain as my claw raked its flesh, cutting deep as magma spilled from the wound.
He shoved me away and I stumbled back, forced to hop over a pit in my path.
We both paused as we re-assessed ourselves.
The break didn't last long as he charged again.
Keeping the pit between us, I circled so he couldn't reach me. Hoping maybe he was dumb enough to fall in.
He wasn't.
Halting, he shook his hand as the mace dissolved in its grip, the flame stretching into a long whip.
Lashing out across the space, he struck the stone floor beneath me as I moved back.
A flurry of lashes followed as he used it to keep me in place as he joined me on the same side of the pit.
Finally within reach, he threw away the whip and punched with his right arm.
I ducked under the blow and bit into the rib area where the wound was.
I regretted that immediately as I recoiled, my tongue and lips smoldering. I had been burned.
Blinded by pain and surprise, the Balrog took advantage by slamming its elbow into my chest.
My body struck the floor as I slid across it, barely scraping past a pit.
Halting my momentum by digging my claws into the stone, I looked up to the beast charging towards me again.
Too late to dodge, I braced while dipping my forehead.
The impact was brutal as I held though I could feel my ribs creaking.
The Balrog swung again, but I turned away to reduce the impact and spun as my tail connected with its head.
A slight pain flared as one of his horns nicked my tail, but the strike still landed with a resounding thump that sent the Balrog stumbling sideways.
Right into the pit I had barely missed earlier.
The creature roared as it plunged into the darkness below. The sound fading by the second.
As the sound finally faded, I stumbled toward the exit. My injuries were bad. At least my ribs cracked, my mouth burned, my wing ripped, my tail bleeding, and my scales shattered.
I have not been this injured since that fight against the black dragon long ago.
Limping and wincing, I reached the tunnel when I heard it.
I paused, disbelieving as I turned back to the pit the Balrog fell in. The steady beating of wings reached my ears, and I watched in eerie dread as an orange light spewed from its depths.
A clawed hand reached over the lip and slammed into the stone floor. Its claws melted through the stone like putty as the Balrog pulled itself up.
I should have run. The thought popped into my head.
The beast rose, its breathing heavy, and I felt my own rage rise to meet it.
The roar was the loudest yet, as it charged once again, the sound shaking dust from the ceiling and rattling my scales.
Roaring back in answer, I also charged. Cancel momentum with momentum.
Our collision created a visible shockwave as his hand seized my neck.
Pressure crushed against my throat as it lifted me from the floor.
My claws raked his arm as desperation and a lack of oxygen drove my ferocity.
Shallow lines in the burning skin crisscrossed but could not force his grip open.
The Balrog flung me down, my own weight and gravity working against me as my ribs wailed in pain and my vision blurred.
Before I could recover, a flaming mace struck my other wing.
The flame wrapped around the edge and began eating through the membrane. The smell of cooking flesh filled the chamber as I was forced from my stupor.
I rolled across the stone, without care for pits or pain, only caring to create distance.
The Balrog advanced.
We fought with growing desperation and brutality.
Our heavy breathing thundered in the cavern again and again. Each exchange left new burns across my scales and new gouges on its blackened skin.
The ceiling stole the space I needed to fly.
My tail struck with less and less power.
The Balrog moved like a hammer and I was the anvil.
Every blow was a mountain slamming into me.
My claws slipped in melted rock and scattered debris as I tried to keep distance.
My lungs gasped for air as the temperature kept rising. Desperation was my only thought.
I was going to die. I knew it. I felt it.
As the hum in my chest grew stronger, something began to stir.
A pressure built beneath my ribs like something knocking from inside.