A Night's Tale

A Night's Tale- Up Strike:

                With sleeping out of the options, Strike lay in the old lair of the Red Death, his wings folded protectively over him and unsuccessfully hiding his blue designs. Every now and then a lone dragon would get out of their places and fly around him before landing back where they started again. He sighed, his blue eyes troubled and his thoughts making it difficult for him with anything else.

                Even as a roar outside sounded shocked from the entrance, he still did not look up. Only when quick wings zoomed over him and landing beside him did he look up.

                A Night Fury, female, was looking at him with round and curious golden eyes. She had a nice figure, making Strike continue to stare at her. Never had he seen such beauty, or the design. While a little lighter in color than he was, on the tips of her ears were yellow spikes. The spikes were pretty much everywhere, elbows, wing tips, tail rudder tips, tail tip, and anywhere else that moved at an angle.

                “She flew in here, guys!” a familiar voice sounded from the entrance.

                Strike looked and saw two dragons with Vikings fly in. He was invisible and when he turned around to look at the female, she had gone. Blinking in shock, he got up and looked around. Nothing.

                “Look at him! That’s Strike!” the one Viking shouted, pointing at him.

                Groaning, he opened his wings and jumped off the edge, twisting in the air before opening his wings and turning in 360s in between the two. He heard surprised shouts as he flew out of the mountain. Wings beats told him he was being pursued, but only one pair. Flying upward, dawn was just breaking and it blinded him for a second.

                The Viking and his dragon reached him, a Gronkle stared at him, its small wings beat the air faster than he could see just to keep it and its rider up in the air. Its rider pointed right at him, “Fight!”

                Fighting, for Strike, came easy. Especially in the air. That’s a reason why Vikings usually didn’t want to fight because one time, he had a dozen or more dragons on his tail when one shouted, “Turn around and fight!” Of course, he wouldn’t fight if he didn’t have to, but when you put it that way… Within minutes, the Monstrous Nightmare he had been fighting fell from the sky, landing safely on the ground.

                So, his mind was thinking, Why send a Gronkle? I know they have tough scales, but I defeated a Nightmare within seconds.

                Twisting in one spot, the Gronkle tried to see any flash of claws or even a jerk to look like an attack. Tricky, Strike thought. Trying to find any sudden movements. He stopped and stayed aloft in midair, thinking quick.

                As he was about to move, a dark blur cut between both him and the Gronkle, the opposing dragon crying out in surprise, letting loose an angry fire ball. It hit Strike, but it didn’t do much, except hit a wing.

                When flying with one wing worked, which it don’t, he would have beaten the dragon to a pulp, but, instead, he plummeted down. Down to the earth where his unfortunate death awaited him.

                We all got to die someday, he thought to himself as he angled his tail and body to do a complete nosedive. Why not now?

                “Doooooooon’t!” he heard a distressed roar come from above him. He opened his eyes that he realized he closed and looked up. A Night Fury, the female from before, shot down, quicker than him, and looked at him. “No! Stop!”