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Nidhogg was losing this fight.
The dragon of Midgardsormr's first brood had been at his strongest in ages, the foolish man who thought himself mighty enough to hold both his eyes locked raging and howling with unbreakable shackles in his own mind. Let him watch the extinction of his people and despair for eternity that his bloodstained hands had played a part in it. It would never equate to Nidhogg's pain and loss.
The great wyrm had brought the final battle to the Steps of Faith, the giant bridge crossing into the mortal nest of Ishgard. What a laughable name it was! They claimed to act in faith to the Fury when his brothers and sisters had spoken with The Twelve directly and carried out their will for much of the star's existence. The Fury was nowhere to be seen; clearly she had no desire to help these vile pactbreakers. Victory was all but assured and his song of vengeance would reach its coda… and then the Warrior of Light and his allies had arrived. They had faced off once before in Nidhogg's home and he had been laid temporarily dormant, but mortal pride and greed swiftly brought about his return. This fight should have been different, but the golden eye in his opponent's hands was shifting the tide once more.
Brood-brother thou hast doomed me…But if I should meet mine end, then all shall burn upon my pyre!
The accusation carried with it milennia of history, sadness, and anger. He remembered blinking at the skies of Etheirys with wet new eyes after hatching beside Hraesvelgr (traitorous brother, false brother!) and Ratatoskr (sweet sister, murdered sister!). He remembered their first ascension to the skies, playfully nipping and chirping as they learned to fight, hunt, and sing. Together they embodied the hope that dragons could live and propser once more, honoring their father's noble flight across the cosmos. Now the brood was divided, rending one another with fang and claw over the fate of beings lesser than them by multitudes.
His father had explained it once during his lessons to prepare the wyrmling as a future guardian of the star. All beings of Etheirys were part of a chain, the strongest and mightiest at the top with the weak at the bottom. The longevity and the power of the first brood made them rivaled by few and that truth had always made Nidhogg disdainful of mortals.
How…how could Hraesvelgr see any value in specks of significance, no more important than insects who wriggled and squirmed in their hives living out fleeting embers of life!? Nidhogg's rage turned into an intense heat, sealing his wounds and causing his onyx scales to glow blood red as the heavens themselves turned scarlet. He swooped down towards his enemies with a challenging roar, watching the vermin scatter out of the path of his wrathful flames. The bridge cracked under his feet as he landed, ready to obliterate them with the most ruinous of his kind's abilities: Akh Morn. No single mortal could survive such a blast. He would kill them one by one.
Thrice did crimson pillars of his hate made manifest slam into the stone with , he snarled to see his enemies yet lived, having rallied together to join their aether into a defensive ward with the Warrior of Light at the vanguard. The mortal champion's face was set with determination, but also a sadness which repulsed the great wyrm. He was Nidhogg, vengeance incarnate! What need had he for pity!?
He lashed out in a murderous frenzy, every part of a dragon's body a weapon. Just one solid slash of his talons, a crushing slam of his tail, a tooth puncturing a lung, and Ishgard's last hope would die. But the Warrior of Light endured, casting healing spells as his companions cut into Nidhogg's body with sword, lance, and arrow. A flutter of panic threatened to take over the ancient being's heart. The mortals were surrounding him, using their numbers to their advantage. Whenever mortals worked together his family suffered. It had happened to Bahamut, Tiamat, Ratatoskr and even himself those many years ago.
His closest kin had abandoned him, Vrtra's song refused to join his in chorus and Hraesvelgr lay wheezing and wounded watching the battle. But what hurt him most of all was the presence of his father, diminished but unmistakable, attending his enemy's side. Nidhogg was alone. He leapt into the air for another strafing assault, but magical stone summoned from the Warrior of Light crashed into the side of his head, disorienting him and leaving the great wyrm open to a Dragoon's lance plunging into the joint of his wing. With a shriek of pain Nidhogg crumpled to the ground to a cry of triumph from his foes. Their voices were so tiny and pathetic, barely perceptible to ears which had heard the star weep as she was ravished by calamities. They were not his equals, merely desperately fighting for their survival in the face of impossible odds.
He summoned orbs of fire with reckless abandon that exploded across the battlefield, but Hydaelyn's gifts provided foresight to the mortals and guided them to safety. His tail struck one combatant down, but they were immediately risen to their feet again by the ancient arts of Amdapor. Steel and spell battered down his defenses and for the first time he felt the bindings around his host rattle.
His eyes met those of the Warrior of Light. Can we not find a path to peace? The mortal's pained expression pleaded and it made the bile surge in Nidhogg's throat. Curses and plagues on their peace! His mind was not so addled as to forget the cost of false promises. He stood to his full, defiant height and howled his detestation for all mortalkind before his breast suffered a greivous wound. As his mighty shell dispersed down into that of the Azure Dragoon, his mind returned to that conversation so long ago with his father.
His tiny body had been curled up under Midgardsormr's immense wing as the pair had watched a mortal settlement. The creatures seemed so strange and scary to the wyrmling, and the sire of all dragons had sung to him in a deep baritone about the great chain of being. There was the will of the star, her champions The Twelve, and then the dragons, adopted children of Hydaelyn.
So we are mightier than them? They should serve and fear us? Nidhogg had trilled with newfound courage.
No, my son. A chain is made strong through its interwoven links. To be part of it is to be connected through the love Hydaelyn has for us all. His father corrected him.
As he watched the Warrior of Light and a young Elezen struggle to rip the dragon eyes free from the Azure Dragoon's armor, he saw that love present in them both and realized it was something he had been missing for a long time. As his long presence on the star was coming to an end, a soothing and motherly voice called to him.
Grief-weary child from distant star. It is time for you to let your hate slumber at last and find peace. There is someone who has been waiting to see you. She said and Nidhogg heard familiar notes of dragonsong that had not blessed this star for over a thousand years. The tethers of aether fastening his eyes to his vessel snapped and Nidhogg let out a long, rumbling sigh, his body ascending heavensward.
Perhaps even vengeance incarnate could find rest…