Even sharing Fable's senses, I missed the moment he moved. He'd kept his power carefully restrained throughout the fight, never using more than the minimum required to dodge the dragon's attacks or break the bone he targeted. Yet now his aura rose, matching the pressure of the dragon. Gold light burst from him, incandescent against the dusky shadows of the Black Mist.
He struck the dragon in the chest, right where he'd torn a hole earlier. The impact sent a shiver through the dragon's frozen body, hairline cracks forming across its ribcage and spine, like a shattered vase sealed back together.
He vanished again, reappearing at the apex of its sinewy neck. He was roughly the size of its head, clawing over its skull and horns. His claws left long, glimmering grooves in its decaying flesh, carving out a web of golden cracks.
