Tales From The Emerald Isles: Hope Chest

2

She stood in stark contrast to the lush varietals of greens within the valley. Her wet crimson and ruby red scales glistening in the sunlight; her wings beating upon the air. She roared. Ash readied his sword. Look for the misshapen scales. That's what Marric said, Ash remembered to himself. The heat from the flame sac causes those scales to heat and cool too rapidly and because of that, they're softer than the others.

His armor, a brilliant azure offset with gray was heavy against his body. That weight was a comfort to him in this moment. He rushed in towards her straight without deviation, like an arrow in flight. He hit his mark, driving his sword deep into the misshapen scales now visible on her chest. She roared and writhed in agony. She sucked in air to make fire, but Ash's sword had punctured her fire sac. All she could do now was expel the air like an old woman blowing out a candle. She's not dead yet. A wounded animal is a deadly one, he thought. Ash stood for a moment watching, waiting, studying her movements. He was hot. Sweat burned his eyes. He took off his helmet and let it fall to the ground by his feet.

She's in so much pain. I need to end this quickly. My people will be safe once she is dead. They can birth and raise new livestock. In a season they'll be able to feed themselves again. She rose up again with a mighty roar tinged with pain. His sword slipping out of her chest as she rose to extend her magnificent wings. The grass and leaves fluttered against her gale force beats. Ash lost his footing, tumbling backward into the nearby brush. She wrapped herself within her wings. Ash felt a soft breeze on the back of his neck. It came from the east. The direction from where he heard rustling of leaves. As soon as he stood up he saw the dragon wrapped up in her wings. She looked like a living garnet. The underside of her wings adding blackness to the interplay of her ruby and crimson scales, and the red blood splattered and smeared upon them. He had no idea where the wind came from. The glen was surrounded by a mountain ridge-line for miles which acted as a natural wind barrier for all but the most southernly winds. Ash recognized the situation for what it was. Dangerous. She was hurt, yes, but she had taken up a defensive position. While she could not see him under those wings, she was more or less protected. He could easily breakthrough with his sword, but he left it inside the her chest. If he charged her like this, he would surely be swatted away like a nagging gnat on a warm summer night. Ash scanned the area. My helmet, he thought to himself. If I can throw it behind her, it may give me the opening I need to retrieve my sword and finish this. Ash, kneeing on one knee bowed his head, "Odin, far-wanderer, grant me wisdom, courage, and victory. Friend Thor, grant me your strength. And both, be with me".