The False Hero

The False Hero: Chapter 5

Dragon's Descent

By Raymora Mayven

The next events took place faster than Raymora could comprehend. He remembered watching the ground below him giveaway, the screams of the wolf mixed along with his own shouts of panic, and watching the darkness draw ever nearer to the dragon. He desperately tried to flutter his wings, but they would not move. Instead all he could only watch as he plummets into the unknown abyss.

However, instead of the hard cold rock that the dragon was sure to be squished upon contact with, he felt a sharp crushing pain as he crashes into a deep pool of water. However, it was only upon contact with the water did he feel any form of pain, he was lost to the immersive action that took place around him. With his vision imparied, blinded from the sudden impact of the water, the only thing he could feel was the water as it started to fill his lungs, pressing him for air.

If Raymora was a water dragon, he could breathe water as easily as air, but as a frost dragon he is susceptible to drowning as any other mammal.

Struggling and kicking frantically in an attempt to stay afloat, he felt the crushing weight of the water drawing him downwards. He fought with all his might, but realized he needed to remain focused if he was to avoid an embarrassing fate: drowning as a dragon is almost as bad as one falling to its end. A fate that Raymora wanted to avoid at all cost.

He steeded his courage, and managed to gain control of himself, allowing the top of his snout to emerge from the icy cold water that contained him. With enough force, he was able to see above the water, only for a few seconds, and spotted a small section of land that had an opening to the cave. He pushed himself forward, swimming with quick strokes as he made his way to the dry land.

Once there, he crawled on to the rough path of rock that resembled a stone beach, and sprawled himself out across the damp rock face. He gasped for air, coughing out whatever water that remained within his lungs.

Looking up, he saw the empty darkness from where he fell. It was too dark to see far down the hole, but he did notice it was a lot more narrow than he had originally thought of. It must have broken into multiple sections, he thought, adjusting himself so he could sit up straight. Then the dragon smiled, he was shivering, felt his own blood sliding across his body, terrified, and confused. Yet he was alive.

If he still had his journal, he would take no other action until he had written down the events that just transpired, for the longer he waited the less he would remember. He grimaced, remembering the unfortunate parting that he had to do with it in order to survive. Nevertheless, while he did wish there had been another way, he couldn't sit idle for long. It was clear the others, if they had survived the fall, had landed in other sections of the cave.

The cave where he had landed in, wasn't exactly noteworthy. By no means was it large, containing only the pool of water and a small pad of land where Raymora stood. He was lucky to have landed in a place that had an exit, otherwise he would have to scale the walls, and at his current situation he wouldn't have made it far.

Before he left, Raymora made inventory of what he still had on him. Miraculously, his belt had managed to stay on him during the fall, and most of its contents as well. His emergency rations were ruined by the water, luckily he wasn't very hungry at the moment. What he was worried about was the still fresh cuts that covered his body. Thankfully, the bandages that he kept in case of an emergency survived the fall, albeit they were soaked. He didn't have many, so he prioritized the bigger more serious wounds that leaked the most blood. There were only two of them that seemed to fit this description. One of the stab wounds that he had taken from Phares, as well as a long narrow cut on his arm that was caused by the same vixen.