I truly wish you all a Merry Christmas. I hope you are spending it, or have spent it, happily and just as it should be. I genuinely appreciate you for being part of the readers and supporters of my novels; that honestly made my Christmas much brighter. So I wish the same happiness to all of you.
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The God and the First Dragonborn pt 2
Ares lifted his spear onto his shoulder with a single hand; the weapon burned with a living fire, as if it were breathing. A moment later he threw it with such force that it seemed to tear through space itself, breaking the speed of sound and generating a natural repulsion that shook the entire coast. The mere throw from his hand was enough to make the sand vibrate beneath everyone's feet.
Even before touching Miraak, the spear suddenly exploded; a brutal blast, in a radius so large that Percy, without thinking, grabbed his two friends and hurled himself with them into the seawater. The flare crossed above the surface, evaporating part of the waves as it passed.
People who were far away, trying to see what was causing so much noise and so many explosions, screamed in panic when the shockwave reached them. Many fell to the ground with their bodies burned; others received partial burns and bleeding wounds as they fled in terror.
Ares did not seem to care that he had injured innocents with a single attack. He only observed the point where Miraak should be, completely engulfed in fire. However, among the flames one could see a shadow moving calmly; ink-black tentacles surrounded it while the fire retreated quickly. Miraak did not seem to have taken much damage; only some parts of his armor were burned.
His sword was still embedded in the sand in front of him. His hand glowed with a magical aura; a cold vapor escaped from his fingers as he brought both hands together, as if charging a spell, murmuring the incantation softly.
Then an enormous quantity of ice burst from his position; Miraak stood at the center of the freezing storm, chilling everything around him and cooling the air so quickly that even breathing seemed to solidify. Ares's advance in search of his spear halted for an instant when the ice covered his body, slowing him only by milliseconds; for him it was insignificant.
However, as he took the next step he noticed something strange. Beneath his feet shone two enormous runes engraved in the sand, placed by Miraak at some imperceptible moment. A sudden drain of his strength ran through his body, just before a powerful whirlwind of fire rose beneath him, enveloping him completely.
"STRUN BAH QO", Miraak shouted toward the sky. Immediately the storm clouds began forming; green lightning emerged between them, the echo of each impact resonating throughout the beach.
When the fire surrounding Ares dissipated, what fell upon him was a rain of green lightning descending as if he himself were a living lightning rod.
As the bolts struck again and again, the storm above their heads rumbled with such force that the echoes sounded like voices of war, ancient roars, screams of invisible armies. Even the natural thunder of the lightning was drowned out by those echoes, as if a phantom battle were being fought around the god.
"You dare use this cheap copy. Do you not know who my father is?", a furious shout was heard from within the whirlwind. The lightning was stopped by pure power rising from Ares toward the sky, dissolving the storm instantly. His body was now completely wrapped in red flames, almost the color of blood; his muscles seemed to grow larger and his clothes, scorched both by the lightning and his own flames, fell apart in pieces.
His bulletproof vest shone for a moment before transforming into a bronze shield. Ancient weapons began to rise from the sand around him. The flames in his eye sockets burned so intensely they seemed to cover half his face.
Ares tore off what remained of the upper part of his clothing; a fully Greek armor covered his torso quickly. He took a sword emerging from the ground.
"Filthy, disgusting vagabond, how dare you?", he shouted as the rage of a berserker seemed to seize his body. The ice around him melted instantly. Steam rose as the temperature increased wildly; the sand began turning into glass.
"Graaa", Ares roared before launching forward. The sword in his hand filled with fire before falling from above directly toward Miraak.
Miraak raised his own sword above his head and deflected the blow, redirecting the trajectory to the side and forcing the blade to slide.
But when Ares's sword touched the ground, an explosion of flames hurled Miraak through the air. He rolled across the sand and landed on his feet thanks to his control. When he looked up he saw Ares in front of him, cutting directly toward his neck.
"ZUN HAAL VIIK", Miraak shouted. The disarm shout sent Ares's flaming sword flying through the sky; however, the god's hand did not stop and, now unarmed, he lunged straight for Miraak's neck as if it were a claw.
The speed of the attack was so brutal that Miraak ended up falling on his back to the ground. He used the same momentum to bend his legs and roll backward, pushing Ares with both soles. The god flew back and crashed against the sand; he placed a hand on the ground to rise in an instant.
The moment his hand touched the sand, the shadow of war manifested. Specters of fallen warriors began to emerge; their weapons burned with the same red flames as Ares. A great number of them started to flood the entire beach.
Miraak observed the warriors with a fixed gaze; his battle instinct was at its peak. A faint, excited smile crossed his face.
"I don't like using it for these types, but…", he murmured while inhaling deeply.
"DIIL QOTH ZAAM".
The shout echoed like thunder. For a second nothing happened, while Ares's army advanced toward him and the god stared at him from his position, evaluating every movement of his enemy.
Then, suddenly, space itself shattered as if it were glass. A completely dark portal began to open there, and a skeletal hand emerged first, followed by several more. What came out next was a huge skeleton, at least five meters tall, holding a two-handed axe as if it were their leader. Its armor had a clearly Viking style, heavy and ancient. Behind it, skeletal archers and warriors with swords and shields came out; among them, dark specters moved like living shadows.
Without needing any orders, all of them launched themselves directly at Ares's warriors.
Now it was Ares's turn to show an excited smile. A battle, a true war, unfolded before his eyes. It was exactly the kind of scene he sought; something he deeply loved. His aura grew, fueled by the pure emotion of combat; in that moment, the god of war was going to fight as a god.
And Miraak would get serious as well.
"MUL QAH DIIV".
The aura of dragon souls began to surround him. Black scales formed over his skin, spectral dragon wings opened on his back, and the superimposed figure of a colossal dragon enveloped him. His eyes narrowed into vertical lines that shone with an almost divine glow.
"Come on!", Miraak shouted, for the first time showing open emotion; the same battle euphoria that burned in the very god of war standing before him.
In the distance, patrols of all kinds could be heard approaching; lights, sirens, even the sound of helicopter blades heading toward the disaster.
Chaos spread throughout the city; however, the ones responsible did not even pay attention to the mortals.
Miraak only cast a quick glance to the side, just an instant, before refocusing on Ares.
…
Meanwhile, Percy, Grover and Annabeth, who for a moment felt as if they had lost consciousness, opened their eyes suddenly. Although they had dodged the flames by diving into the water, the clash of the two combatants' auras had affected them deeply.
Percy looked around and realized he was neither in the water nor on the beach. He could see the clouds very close, close enough for him to spring to his feet without understanding anything.
He seemed to be in some kind of chariot. Looking more closely at his surroundings, he saw Grover and Annabeth lying beside him, slowly waking up. Then his gaze followed the line of sight toward whoever was pulling the chariot… two goats. Flying goats.
Percy was left with a completely confused expression as he observed all this; and then his eyes collided with something, or rather, with someone.
In front of him, leaning down slightly to see him better, rose a mountain shaped like a person: a huge man, with colossal muscles, a red beard and matching hair.
Percy pushed himself backward by reflex, sitting on the floor.
"Who are you?", he asked while reaching for his sword, not finding it. He only had Riptide in his pocket, although he doubted even it could cut through those gigantic muscles.
"Hmm… so this is the sword he created with the materials", the man said as he lifted Percy's sword and examined it with interest. "He used most of the materials on this instead of his own sword; truly quite protective", he added before looking at Percy again.
Percy examined the man's clothing and the enormous hammer on his back. The style was… very familiar.
"You… are you the master's brother?", Percy asked suddenly.
"Ahahahaha!", the man's laughter thundered, so powerful it sounded like thunder itself.
"You think we look alike?", he asked while tossing the black sword back to Percy, clearly enjoying the moment.
"Well… not really", Percy replied while comparing their heights. "The hair is different."
Before hearing the man's answer, Percy heard a massive rumble below them. He leaned carefully over the edge of the chariot, which was spinning in circles in the sky above a hellish battlefield.
Skeletons and specters fought against Ares's warriors on the beach that only minutes ago had been a normal place. And at the center of the chaos, Miraak and Ares clashed again and again; each impact created sonic explosions that destroyed nearby combatants and tore open the sand… and even the sea itself seemed to pull away from the battle.