Rusty death

Before anyone could stop him, the blue dragon took off from the ship and soared over the water. Then he folded his wings and flew into the sea, creating a fountain of spray. Vilmir felt strangely at home in the underwater world. It was strange, because the water was alien to dragons - they couldn't breathe it, their manes got wet. In the water, dragons could move quickly, but they couldn't outrun the true aquatic creatures. Some of their magical abilities didn't work underwater, and the water weakened them, making it difficult for them to react to danger. Despite this, underwater worlds were beautiful. The rays of the sun, penetrating through the shimmering surface, reveal the beautiful underwater world in all its splendor... The sea was so deep here that it's blue hid the bottom, much more than the air hid the outlines of distant objects. It was as if there was another sky beneath his paws, just as deep, and the surface was still above him, but close, curving like a great sheet of fabric and sparkling like a liquid crystal. But the ringing bubbles that burst from his nose under the pressure in his chest reminded Vilmir that he belonged to the air, not the water. His own body was pushing him out of the enchanting world and back to the vastness of the surface. Vilmir had to give in and surface, but only for a moment, long enough to take a breath and don the scuba gear that had manifested from his aura: a snorkel, fins, and goggles. Although they were based on local technology, they were dragon sized and shaped, allowing him to overcome the main barrier that prevented him from existing in the water. But now it was happy to embrace Vilmir, gently stroking his body. The webbed wings became a second pair of fins, and Vilmir pressed his front paws against his body and pushed himself into the blue with his hind legs, descending with the rays of light. The silver fish, startled by the intrusion of the uninvited guest, parted before him, swimming to the left and right, above and below. For a moment, the dragon felt as if he were swimming through a sparkling tunnel, spinning through the starry sky, but then he returned to a reality that was more like a fantasy. The light from the surface was getting weaker, and it was like twilight in the depths of the ocean. However, now he could see, if not the bottom, then at least a field of algae that looked like tall horsetails. In addition to the increased pressure that enveloped and almost tightened him like a rubber suit, he could also feel the gentle touch of the algae's leaves. Vilmir deliberately moved closer to them, allowing them to caress his body as if he were greeting a dragon. As the dragon moved smoothly and slowly through the thicket, he saw small crabs and colorful fish scattering in all directions, previously hidden in this green underwater forest, circling above its tops and diving back between the leaves. Loneliness and silence transported him to another dimension, devoid of the vices and hustle of the surface, and he was in complete control. With a playful smile, although only his eyes were visible through the mask, the dragon gently stroked a frightened fish with his harmless claws, causing him to gurgle in delight. Amused by his own sensitivity, the dragon decided to surface for a moment to survey his domain. Everywhere he looked, he was surrounded by lush green gardens of seaweed and fish, colorful corals, and neat pebbles with sponges on them. With his wings spread out, Vilmir turned over on his back and sank into the seaweed with a sense of complete bliss. His white mane, which had taken on a silvery-blue hue through the water, floated upward, swaying with the gentle movements of his body, the currents, and the transparent, bubbling bubbles of his breath. The yielding bedding, which parted around the thin, sinking body, made it feel especially real. Vilmir wanted to give himself up to peace, to detach himself from the world outside the water for a moment, and from all its inhabitants, but he couldn't. The soft bedding suddenly pricked his sides and back, his wings and legs, even his tail and neck. It wasn't painful, not strong, but it was pleasant and ticklish. The dragon twitched, mumbled, and surfaced with a decisive flap of its wings before it became entangled in the sargassum. Oh, this time he was diving for a purpose. He should find the sunken ship and remove the energy crystal before the air in the tanks runs out. After brushing his tail against the seaweed, Vilmir moved on to the place where the trail of old times had been lost long ago. Here, the dark past was submerged, and there was no way to fix it in the present or the future. Perhaps it was a rash decision. Perhaps it should have been preserved... But by remaining here until today, it had a purpose. Coral and seaweed had clung to the spaceship so tightly that it was only a mound above the ocean floor. In the ocean, nature is vulnerable, but it also recovers more quickly when the water is clean. Vilmir ducked through a crack in the hull, swimming through the cramped passageways of the ship. There were so many gnawed-away skeletons, their bodies contorted in agony, their mouths wide open from previous suffocation. Vilmir felt a strong, cold fear, his heart began to beat faster, and his tail quivered... Nevertheless, it was a very strange fear - not the kind of fear that makes you run away from danger, but the kind of fear that draws you in. The male imagined the suffering of the drowning crew, how they banged against the walls and clung to each other. His ears seemed to pick up the suffocating mooing and bubbling moans that filled the room for a brief but intense moment. Suddenly he felt himself among them, among these poor wretches who had entered the struggle with the sea without any devices, a struggle that was already lost, but no less furious for that. He felt the cold of the water and the heat in the chests of the poor people who were choking and dying here with no chance of escape... He barely managed to keep himself in his paws. He had to close his eyes and calm himself for a minute, biting the bell of the mask. He couldn't completely stop trembling, but he regained the ability to act. Vilmir didn't waste any time and pushed himself forward with the help of his hind flippers, which were bent from the strong stroke, and ventured deeper into the tunnels. It was only then that Vilmir realized that the skeletons couldn't have drowned. The ship had previously been on land, serving as a storage facility for soul-powered devices, but it had been pushed into the water without proper burial. The fear and resentment towards those who exploited other people's souls for their own gain was particularly strong, and it had been eradicated by throwing the ship into the depths of the ocean. In the engine compartment, there was a large crystal that glowed brightly but no longer blindly with the remaining energy. Judging by the intensity of the glow and its size, there were about three hundred souls left in it. This was very little for a spaceship, but more than enough for a regular ship energy supplying! Vilmir carefully removed the stone from its fasteners and disembodied it to his pocket dimension. Now it was time to swim back, and the dragon turned to leave the ship. As he did so, he brushed against the top shelf with his wing and pulled on a strap that looked like a harness of an ancient weapon. The water must have rendered it inoperable, making it a hindrance to Vilmir. The dragon struggled, but the wing remained attached, tightening the grip on the vessels. The second wing opened involuntarily, and the tail straightened. The hind legs trembled from the painful but pleasant numbness in the wing. But still, Vilmir managed to rip out the rotten skin with his trembling claws and freed himself, paddling towards the exit and pushing off the rough walls with his front paws. As he emerged into the dim light again, the dragon was about to take a relieved breath... but he couldn't. With a trembling paw, Vilmir looked at the air gauge and realized with horror that he had no more air left. Had he been inside for too long, or had he simply not refilled his tank? Anyway, it didn't matter! The dragon twitched, spreading its wings, and looked up - he needed to surface, but the moment had come too suddenly, too abruptly! If he rose to the surface as hard as his body teold him to, he'd explode from decompression. If he swam up slowly, he might not make it in time. Vilmir couldn't drown because his mouth and nostrils were frantically sucking in the rubber of the mask, which protected him from water but suffocated him with a muzzle that didn't have any holes for his nostrils. All that was left for the male now was to hope for the best, and to rise with the hope that he would be able to withstand the battle with the water element. For a moment, Vilmir considered dropping the balloon, but it would have done little to help him, and would only have taken up time - so, spreading his webbed wings, he flapped them and began to rise slowly, using his flippers to help him. The dragon tried not to exhale, to preserve the small amount of air that remained in him. Without it, he would suffocate much faster, and it would be more difficult to rise. But in the panic that gripped the diver, it was difficult to maintain control and not inadvertently let out a thin, intermittent stream of silvery bubbles of stagnant air, which looked so clean and fresh in the water. The beautiful depth now seemed less seductive than it had a few minutes earlier. As he watched the bubbles rise, he realized with a start that he would eventually sink to the bottom and become just like the skeletons trapped on the sunken ship. The fish that swam around him would become bolder and would feed on his dragon bones. The fear was multiplied by water's soft yet airless embrace. His mind became clouded, his thin legs and wings trembled, and his tail lost its rhythm. Vilmir twisted his pelvis, clenched his stomach, and bent slightly from the suffocation. The surface was out of reach... It was all in vain! With his arms wrapped around himself, Vilmir turned onto his back and looked up with longing. He couldn't swim to the surface. As if to confirm this, the fish, as if losing their patience, swam up to Vilmir and poked at him, hitting his hind legs, tail, and sides with their blunt snouts. The dragon jerked away from them and spun in a silver whirlwind of startled fish. Vilmir felt his body more clearly again - graceful, agile, but not adapted to life in the ocean. The suffocating pressure in his lungs was competing with the pressure of the invisible but deadly water. The water roared in his ears, wrapped around his torso, and pressed against his wings and stomach... Especially down there. The dragon lunged, swam out of the glittering tunnel, and was a little closer to its goal. But not close enough to save itself. Moving only its hind legs and wings, the dragon suddenly lowered his front paws to its belly and touched the aching part, which became aroused by the mere awareness of danger. Through a hazy vision, Vilmir saw his thin body and his mane, which was soft and spread out in the water. It's like a "woman in distress" from a thriller movie - slowly suffering in the villain's clutches, waiting for a savior. But there won't be one - Vilmir was drowning... And in the sea, and in the mad passion, stroking the smooth scales of the plates on the sunken belly. The suffocation intensified to the point of convulsions, with the flapping of the flippers and the tilting of the head, but it became not only painful, but also sweet. But after a powerful wave of pleasant shuddering, the fear returned and took hold, much more strongly. Through the water, which had previously been clear but was now clouded by asphyxia, the dragon saw a large shadow swimming quickly and smoothly, but twitching in its impaired vision. This was not a savior, but an enemy, the master of the seas, a toothy predator much more adapted to its realm. The dragon swam abruptly to the side. He had resigned himself to death by suffocation, but he had not expected to meet a different end. Fear gave him strength and a desire to fight for his life, but it couldn't provide oxygen or extinguish the flames burning in his chest. As he struggled to breathe through the void beneath the mask, the dragon roared through it and leapt upward, dodging the teeth of the agile shadow. Barely pulling the rear out of the creature's mouth, Vilmir hit it in the face, but it didn't have much effect. The predator was disoriented at best, allowing the prey to rise higher, but it quickly caught up with it, ready to grab its flailing tail. Vilmir curled up and turned around. In a fit of rage, his claws sank into the sides of the scaly body that passed by, whose natural armor was no match for the dragon's strength. The dragon regretted that his mask was tightening around his face, preventing him from biting his opponent, but the next moment he was thrown so violently that he lost his sense of direction. The crazed fish dragged the dragon along with it. Vilmir closed his eyes to battle the pain in his body, exhaling what little breath he had left in a pitiful roar, but the state his body had entered from suffocation, fear, and the constant rubbing of the writhing and thrashing monster against his stomach eased the pain. With a fierce exultation, Vilmir dug his claws deeper into his enemy, and the trail of blood intensified, as did the thrusts, and the dragon lost consciousness from the peak of maniacal pleasure, not letting go and reaching the surface only because his claws tightened, releasing only when he heard the splash of waves instead of the gurgling sound in his ears.