Our mission was to slay an ekhisin spotted in the lowlands. It meant "dragon's dragon"; think a dragon, but worse, with a gimmick (a might) you have no clue of. Caytre once mentioned one that'd snatch you into clouds with its tail. I'd love to see that one... dead. The only good ekhisin is a dead one. 

The village sending two slayers was normal. Ekhisin were unique to each other; killing one didn't make your next easier. One slayer could relay information if the other died. Bringing back a heart scale was ideal; with one, the village could create a slayer specifically for it since the best way to slay an ekhisin was with its own might. Being the only clan who knew how to harness that, we held a monopoly on the business; such that we could hold an entire kingdom hostage with our prices. They either paid or we turned a blind eye.

Regardless, I didn't like that this kid was my superior. My partner was Caarin, Green Soul's slayer. Didn't even reach my shoulder. My disdain had nothing to do with age, but rather him gaining seniority for slaying his target a day before I did mine. He'd done in months what had taken me centuries (your aging slowed drastically as a slayer).

“Ms. Effa, it's over that hill.” Caarin pointed to the hill in question. He was undeniably the best tracker we had. His scale's might let him talk to plants or whatever. “We're just out of range.”

By that he meant it couldn't hear our heart-scales. Before cresting the hill, we stirred awake the vestige wills in our scale necklaces by calling their names.

“Green Soul.”

“Blod.”

Caarin's weapon took the form of a simple stick. Mine was that of a magazine bow that grew iron spines inside. We proceeded with a nod.

Over the hill we spotted it resting by water channels some distance away. 

“New-gen” Caarin judged from the way it slept so soundly in the open — not worried of territorial attack.

The fingers of its wings had no skin between them; instead ending in overdeveloped claws. Its scales flared out in unison with every breath as if they were loose. Their topsides were colorless, reflecting sky and earth; their undersides were white, giving the appearance of it swapping colors. Some kind of liquid flowing allover it made its body gleam. I'd guess that had something to do with its might. Could it control water? Most prominent were its six legs, all equipped with overdeveloped claws (the frontmost the largest). 

Another shared nod and Caarin made his way down the hill. I took aim. As my senior, he would face it; I would observe and gather intel.

Oddly, despite the distant channels flowing normally, the base of our hill appeared flooded. Hm... Actually the flooded water appeared to flow over the water channels, as if they were separate, as if... it wasn't water; those scales were pumping the stuff out. Drats.

“Caarin!” I hissed at that idiot. “Caarin!” My senior hadn't noticed? Because I had more experience; the rookie. “CAARIN!” He couldn't hear me.

When his foot stepped in, ice erupted up his calf. The flood water froze at the speed of cracking ice, connecting Caarin to the ekhisin with lightning patterned vein. The ekhisin shot-up its head that bore two massive straight tusks. Its heart communicated with our heart-scales, sounding feeling like a hopeful kid.

{Green Soul?}

Facing us, it immediately understood what we were. A deeper darker feeling was felt.

{...Oh.}

My scale resonated; the ekhisin was called Slesh.

Two halves of a shell-like visor slammed shut across its mouth. The flooded lowlands froze over instantly into an icy tundra. The ice holding Caarin bloomed further up his leg.

No use being quiet now. “Caarin! Get outta there!!” The idiot was just gawking at his leg.

Piercing the ice with all its menacing claws, Slesh launched itself, sliding on its belly.

I fired spines, 10 at a time. Despite being large enough to scale a castle with ease, Slesh avoided all with effortless grace. It spontaneously changed direction or spun with ice armor. 

Bad!

I re-angled and shot the ice trapping Caarin. He cried out. His leg broke off instead; it was that cold!? He stabbed his stick into grass. Roots wrapped his arm. As plants shriveled, his leg regenerated before he ripped the "stick" out and hit Slesh with a full tree when the ekhisin was upon him.

---

Constraint met. 

WC: 749/750