Thindra, Living Lightning
“It’s not possible,” General Jarqıraw said to Commanding Officer Llars as the dragon Yarost feasted on their comrade’s corpses. He showered fiery spikes at the closest battalion as General Samson mounted him.
Llars gripped his blade.
“Stay,” Jarqıraw said. “This is not the time for Llars the Lightning. I need my CO here.”
Llars the Lightning. His old war name. A scar.
“Sorry sir,” Llars said, feeling adrenaline rush his nerves like crackling bolts. He dashed.
A blitzkrieg of lightning danced across the battlefield, setting it ablaze and forcing Yarost back. Thindra formed as if Llars summoned her. He could feel her power surging within. Together, they struck.