This is my first entry for the Fantasy Smackdown. I used pictures two, six, five & three and literally had a wrench thrown in my story =) I hope you enjoy. 

There was a soft woosh of leathery wings folding as wheels thumped to the ground. The dragon torqued his wrist towards his body and the engine of his bike sputtered once before releasing a loud vroom, seemingly out of place on the quiet mountainside. It may have even been tranquil, that is, until his arrival. 

The chilled air rushed past his face as he picked up speed on the dirt paths. Almost secretly, he was enjoying the tight curves and constant threat of spilling over the side.

Of course, if that happened, he could just extend his wings. Drop the bike, if need be.

The dragon shuddered at the thought, or maybe the wind. His skin was coarse, yet thin—more suited for the deserts where he was born than the mountains of the north he was coursing through. He was probably a sight to see, what with his russet scales, and sharp claws. He was easily twice the size of any animal in the Andelees, let alone the other dragons here. They wouldn’t know a canine if it bit them on the…

The dragon chuckled. She won’t be surprised, he thought. That’s why he brought the bike. If the goal wasn’t stealth, it might as well be style.

With that, he pulled back on the throttle, and almost as quickly, grabbed for the brakes.

Not thirty feet in front of him, a mallard was making her way across the path, followed by a row of unsuspecting, peeping ducklings.

The dragon whipped the tail of his bike around, sending dirt and rocks flying. He turned his head as rocks pelted it from below, shoving a spiked foot into the ground to complete his stop.

The dust settled, and he saw that he was less than a dragon’s step away from the duck family. He sighed a sigh of relief. Wouldn’t do to go killing innocent creatures moments after landing. Nope, wouldn’t do.

The dragon propped up on his handlebars, waiting for the family to pass when the first of the chicks turned towards him, “Won’t do for you to be killin’ an innocent family of chicks, now would it?”

The dragon shook his head, “Excuse me?” came out rougher than he intended. It wasn’t everyday dragons spoke, let alone to children.

“You ‘eard me.” The little one replied, and got a smack on the head for his efforts.

“Stop that!” the mother hissed, and looked the dragon’s way. “You’ll have to excuse him, sir, he seems to take after his father.” The others snickered into their wings until one sharp look from their mom stopped them dead in their tracks. “I apologize for my family, sir. Is there anything we can help you with to make up for our lack of hospitality?”

The dragon ran a hand over his mouth as he considered the offer. “Actually there is something. You can point me in the direction of Nelee.”

The ducks gasped. The third in line actually disappeared with a small pop before returning seconds later. If it was odd, the rest of the family made no notion of it.

“Sir,” started the mother, wings touching her chest as if to plead with the dragon, “I am not sure what you are asking. I…”

“She is a personal friend,” he replied.

“Nelee has no friends.” The first duck butted in, and got another slap in the head.

The mother rolled her eyes and looked down her row of children until she reached the one who had disappeared. “Find Nelee, and tell her,” she looked back to the dragon.

“Severto,” rolled off the dragon’s tongue.

“Severto the dragon is here to see her.” She waved a wing in the wide-eyed duckling’s direction, “Go along now.”

With a gulp and a pop, he was gone.

“I have to warn ya,” started the mother duck, “Nelee seldom takes visitors anymore. Not since the Great War ended. Took a toll on her, it did.”

No emotion flashed across Severto’s face. His voice came out calm and level, “She will see me."

The mother duck huffed, and put her wings on her supple duck hips. “And what makes you so sure of that, Mr. Dragon?”

Severto slowly turned a scaled hand in the direction of the ducks, palm out. The emblem pulsed a faint white light before disappearing. Mother duck’s eyes went wide, and a small collective gasp escaped the ducklings.

“The symbol of the Superator. You’re one of them?” The dragon nodded, “Well, let’s hope she’ll see you then.”

A sad smile crossed the dry lips of the dragon, “Let’s hope.”

The stretching silence was interrupted by a small pop as the little duck reappeared, dragging something heavy behind it. It was a silver wrench. Severto let out a rich laugh that carried down the forest path.

“That for me, boy?” he asked, reaching down for the tool.

“Aye!” he squeaked. “Said you wouldn’t come without your stupid bike so the enchantment would have to match.”

“Smart lady,” Severto mumbled under his breath. He picked up the wrench and closed his eyes in relief as the magic tickled his hand. “Thank you for your help.” he told the family of ducks.

“Be careful,” the mother replied. The dragon nodded in her direction before evoking the spell. He was almost gone when he heard mother duck mumble, “She’s not the same.”

A cold sensation grabbed at Severto’s middle. It felt as if a rubber band had been pulled too tight and now was snapping back to its owner. The dragon and his bike had the unfortunate pleasure of being at the tight end.

Coldness consumed him, he felt as if he was holding on to a block of ice in the shape of a motorcycle. Just as it started to become painful, it was finished. The dragon blinked.

A deep female voice came from somewhere in front of the dragon’s darkened field of vision, “Nice trip, Severto?”

He shook his head, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight and his body tried to rid himself of the cold. Reptiles didn’t do well with old magick transport. Nelee knew that.

“You had to use old magick?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

She laughed, “Couldn’t make it easy on the fearless leader.” Severto blinked again; finally he could focus. He raised his head to see her a few yards in front of him. Nelee was as beautiful as ever—dark legs, the points of her ears barely peeking through her chestnut hair. Her dark eyes were firmly planted on the dragon in front of her. They were so serious over the top of the arrow she had drawn.

“You offend me, Nelee. Is this any way to greet an old friend? I have nothing but my magick.”

“Is that not enough anymore?"

He dusted something invisible off his shoulder, looking her way, “It never was. Not against you, and you know it. Put the arrow down. You’re the best shot of any centaur I’ve ever met. You could have it back out in seconds if I were a threat.”

She lowered the bow, arrow still notched, “Less than, but who’s keeping track?”

Severto smirked, “Who?”

“Why are you here?” she asked, ignoring his attempt at humor.

“Straight to the point, I see.” he propped his arms back on the handlebars of his bike, leaning in towards the woman. “You’re needed, of course.”

“Absolutely not. The answer is no.” With that, the centaur turned on her hooves, and in one swift motion, shouldered her weapons.

The dragon was motionless. He waited a beat, then, “They need you, Nelee.”

She stopped, dropping her head before answering, “They always need us, friend. That’s why we are the Superator.”

“The survivors.”

She turned sharply, “I remember!” she shouted, holding out her hand where he could see it. It reacted to his own, giving off a faint pulse of light, keeping time with her pulse. “Too bad they do not. Use us and forget, like a lover for a single night. Thanks for your services, we won’t be needing you anymore. They left us, Severto! Left us like whores. What good are we when we are so scarred we don’t even recognize ourselves? Tell me!”

The wind picked up as her emotions spiked. She has changed, Severto thought to himself as he stepped off his bike. He slowly approached the centaur. “Scars are good, Nelee. They are proof we’ve healed.”

She shook her head, hair dancing in the dying wind around them, “These aren’t the scars you can see.”

“I know,” he said, reaching out for his old friend and placing his hand on her warm arm. The difference in the two was stark—warm, dark and smooth versus cold, pale and rough. Yet, their lives’ paths had crossed so many times, they were almost the same. “We owe them nothing.”

“Yet we give everything.” She completed. It was a long-time Superator saying. Usually, it was said in jest, layered with such cynicism that sifting through to the true meaning was next to impossible.

Today though, it was said in the voice of one who had no hope. It was a dangerous place to be.

“We need you, Nelee. You know I wouldn’t be here if we didn’t.”

The centaur looked up at the blue sky as if it held the answers, then back at her friend. “But at what cost? Severto, I don’t know if I can.”

“You can.” he assured.

She scoffed, “Such confidence in my powers.”

“Great powers.”

“Old powers,” she countered.

“With old power comes great responsibility.”

She snorted, the faintest of smirks dancing on her lips. “Don’t quote mortal verse at me, dragon, especially incorrectly,” and it was gone. “What have they gotten themselves into this time? I assume you’re here for them.”

Severto stepped back, rolling one scaled hand over another until he was satisfied the spell was complete. When he dropped his arms, a glittering city danced in the sunlight.

Nelee gasped. Not because of the glistening white walls, or ornate bridges coming out of the center island like spokes of an ornate wagon wheel. Severto had replicated the city perfectly—the ocean even moved in tiny waves in the sun-kissed sea, white columns, gold verandas and steeples, hugged by the greenest mountains in the world. It was breathtaking.

But she had seen it before, the magic of the dragon, but also, “Esperanza.”

“The home of your forefathers, where the mortals now rule.” Severto waited as the sky in his miniature grew dark of its own volition.

“What’s happening?” Nelee asked. The dragon raised his hand in response. They watched.

A tiny slice of darkness edged over the horizon, and another, and more until the horizon was a wash of black smothering the vibrant sea.

Nelee looked up, alarm in her eyes, “The Stanton?” the dragon nodded once. “But they were gone. We made sure of it, in the Great War. It’s over.”

Severto grabbed at the city, breaking the spell and dissolving the picture into the wind. “They are back. Forces are low, but…”

“That’s why they are headed for Esperanza.” The Stanton were a wicked crew of wraith-like men whose only limitation was that they needed mortals, the smallest race of all, to pack their ranks. Their spells were only effective on their frail, two-legged bodies. They had almost wiped them out in the Great War. They would complete their mission if they were allowed a foothold again. Nelee took a deep breath, and met the dragon’s eyes, “We must go.”

A small, sad smile crossed his face. “Aye, we must.” She wasted no time, and with a flash she was gone. Severto kick started his bike and took to the air only to be consumed by the same icy flash as before. His mind barely had time to register wrench, before the pulling took over. Damn you Nelee.

“I thought we wouldn’t waste time,” she responded. Only then did Severto realize he had spoken aloud. A bell toned in the distance. Blinking hard, the dragon followed the sound.

They were standing on an edge of the mountains that surrounded Esperanza. Nelee had picked a point that would give them the best vantage of the sea and the city, so it was easy to spot the tower on the shore that was sounding the alarm.

Another bell toned, followed by another and another as the city of mortals perilously prepared for the approaching attack.

Ignoring the fracas below, the two Superators’ gazes were glued to the horizon. The sky was swirling, black consuming the bright rainbow of the setting sun. With each meter it gained, Severto could feel the hope of the people below dissipate. They did not know their hope surrounded them. He decided it was time for them to find out.

The dragon raised his palm to the darkening sky, splitting the blackness with a pulse of white energy.

It was a call to arms, if there ever was one, and his soldiers responded.

Flashes of light came from the sky, the shore, the tops of buildings and mountains. Nelee and Severto were not alone. It would be a fair fight. All was not lost.

The dragon looked at his friend, her own brand responding to his, pulsing with the life force inside her. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

 Nelee blinked, long and hard. A single tear fell down her tanned face. She did not reach to brush it away. She looked back to the horizon, where the Stanton ships covered as far as they could see.

The centaur began to chant, a low, melodic spell was barely recognizable under her breath. She released a bow from her quiver with a soft rush of sound.

“Nelee!” Severto shouted, realizing what she was planning to do, “No! Nelee, stop!” He raised his scaled hand to stop her, only to realize there was a wall between them. This had been her plan all along.

The spelling stopped. Nelee met Severto’s gaze, all traces of sadness long since fled. Only peace remained. “I will not see them die.” With that, she spoke the final verse and a gold thread from her chest attached itself to the end of her arrow.

“NELEE! NO!” Severto ran his thick claws down the invisible wall, it wasn’t enough.

She looked at him, a small smile across her lips, “Good bye, old friend. I will not forget you.”

And she shot.

The arrow pierced through the sky, travelling further than any arrow shot by a mortal ever would, pulling more of the gold thread as it flew. Severto watched, helpless, as it disappeared into the dark clouds, disappearing with a loud clap. A dark mushroom exploded from the sky, only to be consumed by such a pure, white light, that it blinded Severto to look upon it. When he opened his eyes again, the dark clouds were gone, so were the ships. And so was Nelee.

The town of Esperanza let out a monstrous cheer, only understanding they were now out of harm’s way. They would go to live another day,

“But at what cost?” her words rang in his ears.

Pulses of light flashed his way, in question. What happened? Who was it? What is going on?

The dragon once again held up his palm, a steady blue light streaming from it into the sky. One by one, the rest of the Superator did the same.

The full cost of their freedom unknown to them, the town continued to celebrate below. A party for the centuries, to be sure, and Severto had no stomach for it. 

As the town celebrated, the dragon cried silent tears atop their mountains.