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Ninian shuddered, unused to the sensation the crossing of realms left on your body.
Behind, she left the heat of Elibe. The heat of the dragon’s gate and the battle just waged. The heat of the burning passion all her newfound friends shared, now left behind in a most beloved land she would never lay eyes upon ever again. She grieved for that loss.
Though, quite quickly, that grief washed away for a moment as she felt the magic of her own world envelop her. It was warm and soothing—like a mother’s embrace, blanketing her whole body, all of her senses. It was a nostalgic feeling she’d long been deprived of. Elibe was just not suitable to house a dragon for as long as her own world, and much less one in such a weakened state.
Her weakness had caused a lot of trouble for her friends, and she loathed the part of her that had allowed it.
“Ninian?” Nils’ soft voice called out to her, snapping her mind out of the dangerous course it was veering off to. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I…”
She had a long life ahead of her. Maybe one day she would believe it.
“Let’s go, Nils,” she whispered, putting one foot firmly in front of the other, her eyes set on the last thing she had to do before finally finishing the business she had with Elibe.
Her skin pricked up for just a second before she felt their presence—the presence of more dragons fast approaching the dragon’s gate. Probably drawn to its power, and intent on following the previous three fire dragons into Elibe. She’d left Eliwood with a warning, but she did not think they’d be so fast approaching.
It was almost on instinct that she transformed. A wild, feral instinct she wasn’t too familiar with, but it clawed at her just the same. The air around her was abuzz with energy, a long-forgotten feeling she was too young when she last felt. It subsided ever so slightly once she felt Nils’ hand land on her forearm, but it wasn’t gone completely.
“I’ll close the gate.” His eyes were looking at her with determination. The same determination she felt—not wanting a single dragon to cross the gate. To keep Elibe safe, at all costs. To keep her beloved friends as free from harm as possible. They had a brilliant future ahead of them, even if it was still filled with war and strife. She’d lighten that burden, if only a little, and the determination on her brother’s face mirrored those feelings.
“I’ll stall them as much as I can, then.”
Nils nodded, his eyes set on where they had just come from before Ninian turned her back on her brother. She may have done this not that long ago, but it still felt very foreign to her.
She breathed in, feeling the energy coursing through her body. There was a cold, burning sensation flowing through her veins as she focused, letting the powers of her ice dragon form overpower her human body. And as she felt the cold ice finally envelop her like a simultaneously cold and warm embrace, she felt relief.
She was no longer powerless. She could now protect the things that mattered to her.
And so she did.
Everything felt like a blur, but fending off the fire dragons was easier than she thought it would ever be—especially in a form and body she had long since abandoned, seeking to preserve her energy back in Elibe. It was ever-so-slightly intoxicating. A power high she hadn’t felt in ages. Not derived from lust and hunger for power, but from the desire to protect what was dear to her.
Eliwood was in her thoughts every second she fought. The kindness he offered her. The warmth in his smile. She sought to protect his happiness, even if she would not be able to see it ever again. She sought to protect Hector and Lyn, and the rest of Eliwood’s merry band, even if she would see none of them ever again.
She thought back on that faint hope she’d felt once she learned of the existence of the dragon village in Nabata. It was a faint hope that glimmered strongly—the knowledge that humans and dragons could coexist one day. That they could come to understand each other and live together in peace. Nabata village was a testament to this. The time she and Nils spent with Eliwood’s army was a testament to this.
So, as she fended off the fire dragons seeking to invade Elibe, she clung on to that hope dearly. Ninian would absolutely not let any of the dragons through. It would give the people she held so dearly a chance at a better, brighter future—and she would be damned if she didn’t fight with her all to protect it.
Her claws slashed at the dragons before her. They bounced on scales. Their fire breathing nearly caught her many a time, but even in the heat of battle, her determination shone through very brightly. Time seemed to stop for a moment, and she was unsure of how long it had been before she no longer felt the strong presence of magic emanating from the dragon’s gate.
“Ninian!”
Her brother’s voice snapped her out of her musings. She turned back to look at him, his small figure almost blending into the green grass of her world. He nodded at her, completely out of breath, but a sad smile on his face.
“It’s closed now.”
Those words were a great relief to her.
The fire dragons standing before her seemed to notice, too, and started on their slow retreat out of the site, wary looks on their faces as they stared at Ninian’s dragon form. They may have only been children, but they had the common sense to run away.
Relief flooded over Ninian as she allowed herself to catch her breath and abandon her draconic form. “They’re safe now, then.”
“They are,” Nils said as he nodded. A shaky hand reached for his sister’s when she was back to normal—back to the human form he’d found so much comfort in for so many years. “I’ll miss them, but I’m glad we could do this for them.”
“So… So will I,” she muttered as she let her forehead fall on her brother’s shoulder. His arms soon enveloped her with all the care and comfort in the world. He was hurting, too, but he comforted her nonetheless. “I’ll really miss them all, Nils.”
“I know, Ninian. I’m sorry.”
But at least they’re safe, she thought. That faint glimmer of hope was still there, still shining ever so brightly, like the sun hanging over the desert of Nabata.
She allowed herself a single tear, mourning for the friends she would never see again before she gathered her bearings. Even if she wouldn’t see it, they had a brilliant future ahead of them. It was enough to make her smile. She wouldn’t see it, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be happy about it.
It was enough to know they were happy. Even without her.