The Chosen One to Rule Them All Chapter 8
Chapter 8: Ericka vs. Skarethia, Part 3
Skarethia's transformation ignites like a volcanic sunrise—violent, radiant, and unmistakably divine. A deep, resonant growl ripples through the air as flames coil around her, climbing her arms and spine like serpents of molten gold. The snow beneath her doesn't merely melt; it vanishes in an instant, leaving a steaming crater in its wake. The storm surrounding her is smothered beneath a rising inferno that pulses with every beat of her heart.
Her body begins to stretch and swell, muscles thickening beneath her skin as if forged anew in fire. Crimson scales burst forth in waves—first as glowing embers, then as fully formed plates that lock together like living armor. Her limbs lengthen, gaining both mass and power, each movement sending shockwaves through the ground. Her chest expands, her shoulders broaden, and her entire frame grows, rising higher and higher as she ascends into her true grandeur.
Her tail transformation hindered her, rapidly elongating, thickening, and gaining the weight and force of a living magma whip. Every twitch sends cracks along the earth, sparks scattering like fireflies fleeing a storm. It becomes a weapon in its own right—long, muscular, and trailing embers like a molten comet.
As her transformation intensifies, even Scorchgrief, the blade at her side, reacts. Flames lick along its edge as the weapon trembles—then grows. The metal glows cherry-red, runes igniting one by one as the sword stretches in length and width, reforging itself to match its wielder's expanding form. By the time the growth ceases, Scorchgrief has become a colossal greatblade of volcanic steel—an executioner's weapon forged specifically for a dragon queen.
Her humanoid shape vanishes entirely as bones crack and reshape. Wings burst outward in a detonation of heat, their membranes blazing like molten metal. Her horns curve upward in a regal, deadly crown.
And then—she stands fully revealed. A towering infernal titan of flame and hardened scale. Lava-bright light pulses beneath her armor-like plates. Her tail lashes behind her with devastating force, and Scorchgrief glows at her side like a shard of living fire.
Her eyes, once narrowed with restraint, now blaze like twin supernovas. When she speaks, her voice rumbles like an erupting mountain:
"Stay away from my mate… or burn with the rest." Each flap of her wings sent rivers of sparks and molten wind across the battlefield. Every step hisses against the earth, which recoils from her heat. Skarethia is no longer simply a dragoness—she is cataclysm incarnate, armed with fire, fury, and a blade worthy of her wrath, standing as a 610-foot Red Dragon.
Ericka knew she was likely outmatched now. Skarethia was the true red dragon queen—bearing her family's ancient bloodline, wielding the heirloom Scorchgrief, and having ascended into a minor goddess. Only major gods were barred from acting in the mortal plane, which meant Skarethia could unleash her full might without restriction. Ericka had held the advantage earlier, before Skarethia's mistress allowed her to transform. But now, the tide had shifted, and the situation had grown grim.
However, there was still one sliver of hope—she only needed to stall. With her mother and father, the king and queen, still alive, Ericka knew Skarethia couldn't kill her without violating the prophecy. If Skarethia overstepped, Mistress Regina would have every right to take her head. That rule alone was the thin line keeping Ericka alive.
"Alright… I'll try this spell, then." She lifted her arms and began to chant, "Exite, nix et glacies, ad manus meas, et create sphaeram magnam ut hostes meos frigido amplexu vestro conteratis." (Come forth, snow and ice, into my hands, and form a great sphere to crush my enemies in your cold embrace.)
At once, frost thickened in the air. A swirling mass of snow and ice gathered between her palms, spinning faster and faster as it pulled in moisture from the storm. The sphere grew rapidly—too rapidly—its weight and size swelling at an alarming pace as if eager to fulfill her command.
Skarethia spoke in a low, booming growl as she lifted Scorchgreif high above her head.
"Vade, et me flamma sacra tua protege. Da mihi scutum flammae impenetrabile."
(Go, and protect me with your holy flame. Grant me an impenetrable shield of fire.)
At her command, the flames along Scorchgreif surged to life, spiraling down the blade before snaking around her body. They wrapped her in a blazing mantle, forming a shimmering barrier that pulsed with divine heat.
But before she could fully revel in the protection, a shadow fell over her. Skarethia looked up—just in time to see a colossal sphere of snow and ice hurtling toward her, easily twice the size of even her massive draconic form.
Skarethia unleashed a rising jet of flame, melting the incoming sphere the moment it struck her. But before the water could finish cascading away, a blinding white flash erupted. In an instant, snow and frost swept outward, freezing every radius in a shell of ice.
A few seconds later, Skarethia stood completely unfazed—and even yawned. "Was that your best trick, Erickathrix? Then you don't have a chance in hell." She raised Scorchgrief and growled, "Ite, flammae sacrae, in draconem ingentem mutamini et eam maxillis vestris potentibus conterite." (Go, holy flames, become a massive dragon and crush her with your mighty jaws.) A colossal serpentine dragon made of crimson-gold fire burst from Scorchgrief, its heat so fierce it vaporized the snow as it lunged straight for Ericka.
With only moments to spare, Ericka lifted her hands and shouted, "Prodi, murus glacialis, et me sociosque meos protege!" (Come forth, wall of ice, and protect me and my allies.) An enormous 800-foot wall of ice erupted from the ground just in time. The flaming dragon slammed into it, its impact shaking the earth. For a few precious seconds, the wall held, siphoning away some of the creature's power—until the dragon finally burst through.
Its scorching flames whipped around Ericka, burning into her scales and charring her body. She let out a thunderous roar of pain as smoke curled from her wounds, but even battered and blistered, she refused to fall.
Skarethia's massive jaws opened in a low, wicked cackle—"ehehehe… hahahahaha…" "Well now, Erickathrix," she purred, flames curling between her teeth. "You look a bit… toasty. Still eager to keep this little charade going? Or will you finally give up on the boy, hmm?"
Ericka forced herself to her feet, trembling with pain but refusing to yield. "I think we both know who the stronger spellcaster is," she said through gritted teeth. Then her wings snapped open in a powerful sweep. "So let's end this in the sky—tooth and claw, if you're brave enough."
"Your funeral, little silver," Skarethia growled. "I love ripping self-righteous Silvers apart. And when I'm done, the scar I give you will follow you even in your humanoid form." She spread her massive wings, and Ericka did the same. In the next heartbeat, both dragons launched into the sky.
They met face-to-face, circling each other in the air like a deadly duet. Ericka moved first, dropping Rune Shaver; the 250-foot blade plummeted with an earth-shaking crash. Skarethia followed, releasing Scorchgrief as well. With a swift gesture, Regina slowed both blades, catching them before their impact could kill anyone. The massive swords then dissolved into drifting particles of light.
Ericka lunged for Skarethia's neck, but Skarethia countered with a heavy punch to her snout, opening a deep gash across her face. Still, Ericka wasn't finished. Skarethia didn't notice the silver dragon's whip-like tail until it slammed into her abdomen, tearing a wide gash and drawing a roar of pain. "Lucky strike, Erickathrix," Skarethia growled. "You'll pay for that—once I finish you."
Skarethia dove at Ericka, unleashing a massive torrent of fire. Ericka shot upward and met it with a blast of frost breath. The two attacks collided, perfectly matched, before exploding into a shockwave of fire and ice that rippled across a mile-wide radius. Regina quickly raised another barrier to shield the spectators.
Ericka and Skarethia slammed into each other and locked up, tumbling through the air in a spiraling deathball. They bit and clawed viciously as they spun downward, flames and frost blasting from their maws in wild, clashing bursts.
They crashed into the ground with a thunderous impact, and Regina again threw up a barrier to protect the spectators. Ericka rose with a limp, growling through the pain as blood poured from a deep gash in her calf. Skarethia stood as well—injured, but clearly in far better shape.
Ericka tried to limp toward Rex, attempting to shield him despite the cuts and bruises covering her massive frame. Skarethia chuckled darkly. "Well, well… just like when we were hatchlings, you never learn." She lowered her maw toward Ericka. "What did I tell you back then? Ah, yes—you just can't cut it. Silvers should know their place on the totem pole and bow before us. Ehehehehe… hahahahaha."
"I told you—DON'T TOUCH MY MATE!" With a furious roar, Skarethia tore a massive chunk from Ericka's tail and dragged her away from Rex. She coiled her huge body protectively around the boy, flames flickering between her fangs. "Anyone besides my mistress or me who approaches this boy will face my wrath." She then planted a massive talon on Ericka's motionless body, unleashed a pillar of fire into the sky, and roared in triumph.
"Now… what should I do to that pretty pearly hide of yours?" Skarethia purred, her tone dripping with cruelty. "I can't wait to see Rex's disgust when you try to return to your humanoid form. That gash on your thigh was a start, but nowhere near enough." She leaned closer, eyes gleaming. "I think I'll begin with your face and work my way down. Hearing you scream will be delicious."
Rex snapped out of his stupor at last. "Stop… don't do that to your own kin. I don't want to see my children tearing each other apart. You're far too beautiful to be so cruel." Everyone froze at his words. Skarethia's eyes widened, and she instinctively stepped back in shock.
"W-what did you just say?" Skarethia stammered. "Did I hear you correctly? Did you command me? Did you just speak with the Allfather's authority? That's… that's impossible. You shouldn't be able to—" Before she could finish, another voice cut sharply through the air. "Well. I didn't expect to find a Red here today—let alone their queen. Tell me, why do you think it's acceptable to tear apart our campus like this?"
Skarethia's instincts flared. She sniffed the air—then her entire body locked in fear. "N-no… that scent, that aura. It's familiar… impossibly familiar. My mistress would have warned me." She turned, and her dread was confirmed. Miss Ignara Auram stood there, watching her, and she was not pleased.