Chapter 10: Heart Of Madness, Heart Of Rage
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Bellows. Roars. Two leviathans locked in combat. Talons gleaming,
the two sinous forms writhe and intertwine, as the petty humans
on the tower below can only gape in awe at the sight of their
High Priestess fighting a creature from their nightmares, now made
flesh above their heads.

Two combatants. Both human, yet wearing the forms of far mightier
beings about them like cloaks. The first, a young man-boy drawing
on the life of his homeland to masquerade as a golden harbinger of
death and destruction, the awesome Doom Dragon, was Gau. The second,
a madwoman serving her own twisted version of a god, given vast 
power to wreak havoc in the guise of a ebon two headed dragon by a
foul potion, was Shirak Rokal.

For the moment, the Doom Dragon's mind was in control, and having
the time of its life. <Fool! How can you not deny the thrill of this
struggle? Still you try to take over, even if it means your death? 
For surely the masquer will slay us while you flail helplessly 
about!> The behemoth was larger than the black dragon, an advantage
that barely compensated for Shirak's twin heads, that lunged and
snapped in a lethal combination. The Doom Dragon dodged and coiled
far quicker than his bulk would normally allow, and managed to keep
his neck clear, and started to take the offensive. 

Bringing one forearm about, the golden wyrm sank talons the size of 
spears into the first head's throat, listening to the bellow of pain
that ensued. As it began to squeeze, a sudden hissing sound issued
from the second head, to be followed by a jet of murky liquid that
splashed along the Doom Dragon's side. Then it was the Doom Dragon's
turn to roar in pain, a great earsplitting bellow, as the acid slowly
began eating into his scales. Shirak hissed in delight, and then
lashed out with a hind leg, ripping into the weakened flank. <For
Kefka!> Corroded golden scales gave way, and hissing, white-hot blood
erupted from the wound, falling in a lethal rain to the distant 
ground below. At that moment, Shirak screamed as the Doom Dragon's
claws punctured the first head's windpipe and cracked the vertebrae,
rendering the head unable to move. The Doom Dragon felt the other's
neck and head go limp, only to feel another burning pain as Shirak's
corrosive blood covered his forearm where the talons had entered. 
Shirak panicked as her twin viewpoints suddenly became one again, but
managed to recover enough to sink her surviving head's jaws into the
Doom Dragon's own neck, and began to try and gnaw her way through the
shield of thick metallic scales. 

The Doom Dragon was in pain, but not terribly worried. It hadn't
survived for a millenia by panicking over a few scratches or bites,
and wasn't about to start. <Watch now, manling, and learn the ways of
our kind!> The deathbringer had taken it's opponent's measure, and 
while the two headed one fought with ferocity and courage, it was
still a hatchling when it came to using all the abilities that dragons
possessed. As Shirak started to pump more acid into the opening she
had made in the scales, she was violently thrown back as the Doom
Dragon brought it's long, sinous tail up and around into the ebon
dragon's chest, breaking the death grip the two had been in. As she
flailed and began to pump her wings to regain her balance, it was 
the Doom Dragon's turn to charge. Lunging, the golden wyrm flew not
into, but *past* the startled Shirak, extending the still smoldering
talons of one forearm to rip into the the side and chest of the black
dragon. Grinning (as much as a dragon can) at the feeling of ripping
into the enemy's flesh, the Doom Dragon swerved and lunged at the
still disoriented Shirak's form once more. This time the strike was
true, and Shirak was thrown forward. 

<Damn! Kefka preserve me, this one is truly a challenge! How can I 
fight one that outstrips me in speed AND size?> As the two wyrms 
began to encoil once more, Shirak realized the answer to her own 
question. <Same as always. Fight dirty.> With that, the ebon beast 
craned her one good head towards the Doom Dragon's head, and spat 
liquid death once more. As the Doom Dragon recoiled and broke off it's
attack, pawing at it's eyes, Shirak screamed in challenge and delight,
and lashed out with her hind legs once more, striking the weakened and
ripped flank once again. <Yes! See how you like it, wyrm!>

The Doom Dragon was finally worried. The masquer's acid had almost
taken it's eyes in that last shot, and the whole left side was in
agony from the repeated strikes and acid scoring. It was time to play
the last card, the one thing the leviathan didn't know would work or
not anymore. As the ebony dragon began to swing towards it, the Doom
Dragon cried out mentally to the stars hidden above the dome of the 
sky. <Polaris aid me, and smother my foe in your bitter embrace!>

And the stars answered.

In the north, a cross shimmered into existence, the starry lights 
flaring brightly enough to overcome the sun for a brief moment, then
fading away. Shirak paused at the display, then continued her dive
at the hovering dragon before her. <What in Kefka's name was that?>
It was then that she noticed the bluish aura suffusing the air around
her, and the temperature dropping. With suddenly sluggish motions, 
Shirak looked around, and saw ice forming on her now stiffening wings
as the power of the Northern Cross took effect. <No! How can it still
work? Magic is gone, with the Espers!> And slowly Shirak began to
fall, unable to move her now frost-rimed wings. For the Northern and
Southern Cross were magic of an older order than Espers, from when 
the race now known as Doom Dragons roamed the stars themselves, free
to slay and strive as they willed.

The Doom Dragon prepared to dive at the now descending foe, to 
sadistically follow her to the ground and watch her demise. But at long
last, Gau found the opening he had been looking for. Marshalling his
will, Gau reasserted command over his form as the Doom Dragon recovered
from the strain of the Northern Cross. <NOOO! You can't, manling! This
fight is not over! Don't.......> The Doom Dragon roared, then disappeared
into the depths of Gau's subconscious once more. <Whew! Gau never lose
control like that before! Hope never... *I* hope I don't do that again.
But what to do about the other one?> Gau pondered, then realized he
had best take the opportunity to return to his original plan. Wincing
inside at the pain of the wounds the Doom Dragon shell had suffered, 
he rose towards the sky once more and oriented himself towards his
final destination, one thought on his mind again. <Dee...>

Shirak felt a sickening despair overcome her. As the wind roared around
her frozen form, the golden form of her antagonist started to plunge
after her, apparently intent on finishing the job. With a mental cry
of rage, Shirak swept the despair aside, and tried to fight off the
paralyzing coat of ice. <Lord Kefka, please aid your greatest servant
in her time of need, I beg you!> As the thought completed it's course,
two things occurred. The Doom Dragon appeared to lose interest and 
flew off, and the ice suddenly shattered from Shirak's efforts. 
Spreading her wings and catching the wind, the crazed priestess turned
towards the tower. <Kefka be praised a thousand times! Thank you my 
lord, for turning my enemy away, and answering my pleas! Thank you!>
Then the reality of the moment came back to her, and she began to 
wonder what would become of her in human form, with one head not 
responsive. <My lord would not fail me in this matter after preserving
me in others, would he?> Approaching the top of the great grey iron
tower, Shirak shuddered as she alighted on the tower and triggered 
the change.

Erwillian and the others had watched the battle at first with fear, 
then joy, and then fear again as their priestess began to fall. Now
they cheered again as she underwent the transformation once more, and
stood before them, triumphant. An acolyte stepped forward with robe
to cover her thin form, and as Shirak put it on, her crimson eyes
blazed even brighter. For all the damage her dragon form had suffered,
the only noticeable effect was a stiff neck, and a sore chest from
where the leviathan had struck her with it's tail. Turning to the now-
dwindling form of the Doom Dragon, she pointed.

"See how Kefka preserves us! For he has given us power to turn back
even the mightiest foes now. For that was one of the original vile ones,
like Celes and Terra! Even Gau, the master of the Rages, could not
stand before my fury! Praise Kefka!"

"Praise Kekfa!" roared the acolytes and priests. While things may not
have gone as easily as their leader proclaimed, were they not alive
and whole, and their beloved priestess apparently untouched by her
trial? And was not one of the vile slayers of their god now in retreat?

MEANWHILE...

Gau tore through the skies again, this time not so strained. The fight
had weakened the Doom Dragon's mind to the point where it could not 
hope to regain control, leaving Gau to focus fully on reaching the
Veldt and his beloved. <But if she is safe, what to do? I hope Mog was
right about his estimation of things...>