CHAPTER III
"This wind is finally clearing!"
Pulling off his hood, Falorgeant exhaled a short breath of relief. They were off the mountain but the danger was far from over. While Falorgeant moved ahead to scout the misty gap of the mountain, Clarielle slowly followed behind. Gently brushing her fingers against the stone, Clarielle lifted her head to admire the impressive height in which they descended. How careless she was, she would think to herself. Shaking the small thought away, Clarielle turned to resume Falorgeant's trail until a small breeze forced her to turn around once more.
'A breeze... at the foot of the mountain?'
She stopped and stared into the mists, her eyes searching thoroughly.
"Clarielle? Over here!"
Again, she was brought back to reality by the distant shouting of Falorgeant. She turned and walked, her senses heightened while she moved to Falorgeant.
Clarielle blinked, her eyes going wide at what she saw.
Next to where Falorgeant was standing was the massive corpse of a dead dragon, it's body crushed into the bottom of the mountain itself. The corpse was covered in cuts and bruises while it's crowned head laid broken and a wing was sliced in half. Plunged into the scaled hide of the wyrm...
... was an axe and a halberd.
Both weapons were rusted, chipped, and battered by time for they had seen better glorious days. They were now monuments to a forgotten battle at the bottom of a mountain.
Falorgeant slowly stepped forward, his tone quiet while he gradually reached for the hilt of the axe. Falorgeant grabbed tightly but instead of pulling the weapon free, he simply held on to it and quietly chuckled.
"These were theirs, Clarielle. These were the weapons of the Vale Brothers."
Clarielle too stepped forward to see the weapons imbedded into the beast. Her eyes shifted from the broken steel to the man before her, and the gleam of nostalgia that rested on the slight curve of his lips confirmed the fact…
"So... it is true. They both survi-"
In the small moment where fate met reality, Clarielle's words were cut short by the distant approach of a monstrous bellow. The hunters turned and gazed as the mists behind them blended into shadow and shape. The mists swirled in the air and danced like water until a pair of wings spread outward. The dragon's head eerily came into view and the beast's bloodshot golden eyes stared into the elezen with an unforgiving lust of hunger.
"A dragon!? Of course!"
The dragon reared it's head and roared. Falorgeant grinned and turned to Clarielle, slowly nodding as he tore the cloak off his armor. Clarielle followed suit.
In a brilliant display of cerulean, Falorgeant and Clarielle waved their weapons gracefully in the air as the wyrm slowly advanced.
"Come, Clarielle! In the name of the Fury, we shall add another Dravanian corpse at the foot of Ishgard! Let this beast taste the might of the Dragoons!"
