Perilune

Chapter 2

As Lyra drifted into consciousness, she wasn't immediately aware of her surroundings.  Before she opened her eyes, she heard something scrape across stone.  Either scales or claws, she realized jarringly.  She remembered all at once what had happened. 

She froze in terror as she felt the dragon's warm breath fall upon her, its snout brushing against her as it spoke; "Lunch is late.  I'm famished."

Lyra froze, her ears ringing as her heart pounded.  Hardly anyone lasted longer than a day, many of them being devoured at first sight, and they simply dropped off the food and fled.  Lyra was served on a platter in the absence of an alternative meal.  Each warm breath which fell upon her seared her with dread. 

She wished she could have been unconscious during her death.  Of course the dragon was intent enough on punishing her for her humanity to let her recuperate from the venom before going in for the kill.  Her heart continued to pound as she lay still, helpless prey sprawled in front of the massive predator, awaiting nature to claim her life. 

A moment passed, and nothing happened.  She slowly turned her head to see the dragon staring expectantly down at her, an irritated look on its face.  "Well?" It demanded, its voice booming over Lyra, "Fetch me my meal before you become it." 

Lyra practically leapt to her feet, "As you wish..." She trailed off when she realized she didn't have a name for the beast.

"Amaris."

Lyra's jaw dropped as she glanced up.  At seeing the dragon's impatient glare, she sprinted to the entrance of the cell, quickly snatching the handle of the now empty cart on the way out.  She could feel the dragon's eyes on her until the door was shut.  She let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, the room spinning as she processed how close she had come to death.  A dragon attacked her.  She was defenseless.  It was going to eat her.  The detail of how and why she survived was indecipherable.  The confusion was liquid in her lungs, making it harder to breathe. 

Dread poured in until she began to drown. All her mind and body wished to do was run as far away as possible, yet Lyra had to return to her executioner quickly as possible.  She hurried down the hall, afraid she had already taken longer than the dragon would tolerate.

As she was halfway to the meat locker, the doorknob glowing a vibrant shade of crimson and uttering a shrill sound as the spell alerted to the lateness of the meal, she saw a guard escort a man down the stairs, presumably her replacement.  He was a rather disheveled person, about twice the size of Lyra.  He wobbled down the stairs and almost fell several times as his legs trembled.  They both looked at Lyra with stunned expressions, a look of mild relief in the eyes of her replacement.

"Oh.  You're alive?  You're not refusing, are you?" The guard placed a hand on his sword.

"I'm performing my duties now, sir," Lyra said flatly, gesturing to the cart. 

"Well you're late.  We got your replacement all ready... protocol is for me to execute you..." Lyra's face went pale as her replacement quickly covered his ears and turned away.  She wasn't entirely sure if it was from squeamishness or respect, or if she really wanted the only sympathetic face in the room turned away. 

"I only took this assignment to avoid having to do anything, so if you're getting this meal," he looked at the wall behind Lyra as he spoke before glancing over his shoulder at the wall behind her replacement, "Then you won't be needed until dinner."

"Until dinner?" Lyra asked quietly.  Her replacement turned to face them again with a mask of horror upon his face as he counted the hours to his demise.

"You're bringing the monster's lunch two hours late," the guard said in Lyra's direction, "that thing kills over nothing."

Lyra's replacement eyed her as if the earth they moved to dig his grave was used to bury her alive.  It made her feel as if gravity intensified just to shatter her kneecaps under the pressure.