Dianne once again launches herself up to her possessed friend. Irish rolled her eyes at her and said, "Afraid of telling the truth, Dianne? Afraid of acknowledging your true power?"
She had faced countless challenges in her divine existence, but the sight of her possessed friend, Irish, doubting her actions struck a nerve she couldn't ignore. 
Dianne's voice cut through the air, tinged with a regal echo that demanded attention, "Irish, you dare question the motives of a goddess? You, who are possessed by an impudent spirit, speak as if you comprehend the weight of my actions?"
Irish's eyes, now under the influence of the possessing force, held an unnatural glint as she scoffed, "You are a deity, one of the revered goddesses that this world worships. Yet you hide behind mortal trepidation."
Dianne's grip tightened around her spear, the divine weapon resonating with her growing anger. She pointed the spear at Irish, her voice resonating with authority as she chanted an incantation, words that ignited ancient magic. The air crackled with energy, and a surge of power surged through the atmosphere. From the heavens themselves, a brilliant figure descended—a majestic sky dragon, its iridescent scales glimmering like precious gemstones.
Gasps echoed from the crowd below as they watched in awe, disbelief etched across their faces. Dragons, once thought to be mere legends since the end of the great war, were now brought forth into the realm of mortals. Shock, dragons lived in the far lands named Dragonia and haddistant themselves when the great war ended several decades ago. The sight was as mesmerizing as it was terrifying, a reminder of the mythical powers that once shaped the world.
Irish, even under the possession, was not immune to the dragon's magnificence. Her mocking expression faltered, her lips parting slightly as she stared in disbelief at the colossal creature that now graced the skies. "This can't be happening...!"
The scarlets, descendants of a lineage that had clashed with dragons for centuries, had never been able to subdue the dragons' might.
The sky dragon's eyes, the color of storm clouds tinged with sunlight, fixed upon Dianne. Its voice boomed like thunder, resonating within every heart present, "Who dares to summon the great dragon of the sky? State your purpose, mortal."
Dianne's forehead shimmered with a radiant glow, a symbol of wind materializing upon her skin.
"Mother---"
 The dragon's eyes widened slightly, recognizing the mark that identified her as the creator. It attempted a gesture of deference, but Dianne dismissed it with a wave of her hand. The familiarity between creator and creation transcended such formalities.
As the dragon's attention shifted back to Irish, Dianne's voice softened with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "I did not wish for it to come to this, old friend. But your reckless actions have left me no choice. This vessel you possess is dear to me, and I will not let you consume it any longer."
Irish's eyes flickered with a moment of clarity as the dragon's presence bore down upon her. A struggle ensued within her, the possessing force attempting to resist the dragon's influence. The air crackled with magic as the sky dragon's power intertwined with Dianne's own.
The wind howled, carrying with it the weight of centuries-old conflicts and the determination of a goddess who refused to yield. Dianne knew the power of the great sky dragon intimately; after all, she was its creator. Crafted from her own essence and the boundless energy of the skies, the dragon held immense capabilities.
Dianne's knowledge extended to the dragon's unique ability to dislodge unwelcome spirits from their earthly vessels. It was a technique that came at a cost – the body that had been a battleground for possession might emerge damaged, scarred by the ethereal struggle. And that was something Dianne hesitated to unleash upon her friend, no matter the circumstances.
But the spirit's words, laced with arrogance and disdain, cut through Dianne's hesitation like a blade. The impudent goddess descendant that had seized Irish's body left her no alternative.
----
The moonlit hillside was now charged with tension, as the summoning of the great sky dragon had shifted the balance of power in the confrontation. Dianne's eyes remained fixed on her friend, Irish, the turmoil of emotions warring within her as she stood before the majestic creature she had created.
The sky dragon's presence was palpable, its azure scales shimmering like a cascade of stars against the night sky. But there was something more in its gaze, an awareness that transcended the mere physical realm. Dianne felt a connection, as if the dragon had delved into her thoughts, read her intentions.
As if confirming this unspoken understanding, the dragon's immense head turned slightly, its eyes shifting from Dianne to the small, bloodied figure of a girl nearby. The girl, no older than ten, trembled as she gazed up at the towering creature, her wide eyes a mixture of awe and fear.
In the dragon's mind, thoughts and intentions converged. It recognized its creator's wishes, the underlying currents of Dianne's emotions. If her master's wish was to command it to fight this seemingly innocent girl, then the dragon would not falter. Duty, loyalty, and the ancient bonds between a creator and its creation resonated within its being.
With a resounding roar that echoed through the night, the sky dragon's wings unfurled, its powerful form propelling it into the air. Its mighty presence commanded the very wind, causing trees to sway and dust to whirl in its wake. And then, with an explosive burst of speed, it hurtled itself towards Irish, the vessel of the impudent goddess descendant.
As the dragon's shadow eclipsed Irish, Wynrose's expression shifted from fear to resolve. The child's eyes narrowed, her tiny form radiating an unexpected strength. A tempest of emotions swirled within her as she realized that her life was on the line. The spirit that had taken refuge within her understood the stakes and was ready to fight back.
The dragon's approach was thunderous, a symphony of power that seemed to command the very elements. Its immense claws extended, ready to grasp Irish and rend the spirit from her form. But Irish was not defenseless. With newfound determination, Wynrose's hands glowed with an otherworldly light, an aura of energy that crackled and surged around her.
As the dragon's claws neared, Irish's form erupted with a burst of energy. A shockwave rippled through the air, sending ripples of power cascading outward. The impact of the clash created a shockwave, a shockwave that reverberated like the crash of titanic forces.
Dust and debris swirled, obscuring the scene for a moment. And then, as the air cleared, the sight that emerged was one of staggering awe. The dragon, its wings partially unfurled, hovered in mid-air, locked in a fierce struggle with the small but determined figure below.
Wynrose's eyes blazed with an intensity that defied her size. Her hands, wreathed in a swirling maelstrom of energy, met the dragon's colossal claws. A clash of power ensued, a tumultuous dance between two forces that seemed impossibly mismatched. But within Wynrose's eyes, a fierce resilience burned – the same defiance that had prompted Dianne to summon the dragon in the first place.
As Dianne watched the battle unfold, her heart ached with conflicting emotions. She had never anticipated that her creation would be used against such an innocent vessel. The moon cast its gentle light over the scene, the sky dragon's roars resonating with the turmoil that raged within her.
The struggle persisted, the dragon's power and Wynrose's determination locked in a ceaseless clash. It was a battle that defied expectation, a contest between titans in forms both great and small.