The Dragon Slayer (Dragon Prince Series Book 1) Page 3

  She dismounted as she past the stables, sighing at the one dead horse and another limping beneath the lean-too. Its flank was badly burned, exposing bright red flesh. The poor thing would likely be put down. She released her stallion who trotted away with a nicker and a flick of his tail. Her intelligent horse surprisingly knew when to get out of dodge, and praise the gods he would come when she called.

  Libelle held her bow at the ready, an arrow mounted to the string that was ready to be loosened. She searched for signs of life outside the gates, not wanting to enter the narrow path of the city and find herself cornered against a wall. She would investigate the dwellings inside the walls later, once she was sure all was clear. For now she needed to scout the area and keep her eyes on the sky, the fire breathing lizard was bound to return for its meal; and if it sensed her there, it was bound to return for a duel.

  A moan caught her attention, and quickly her icy eyes found a soldier leaning against a fence post. He moaned again, trying to form words that she would hear: trying to gain her attention. She rushed to his side and knelt down by him, quickly assessing his wounds. He had minor burns along her arm and side of his face, but the heat from the dragon's breath quickly heated his chainmail which was now burnt into his flesh. The man needed to see a healer, and fast.

  "My lord!" Gaalin's voice echoed out from a distance.

  She didn't bother looking towards him, the man in front of her was more of an interest. He reached out, his limbs trembling as he took hold of her hand. His scorched eye was fixed on her, his one good eye welled up with tears.

  "Thank the gods you are here dragon slayer. Thank the gods." He whimpered out.

  She remained stone faced in front of him, her expression unnervingly flat. "Tell me what happened."

  He sniffed back a wail of tears, "It-it happened so fast. The beast sprung over the mountains like an ocean wave in a storm. We all took up arms, we all thought we were ready. No, not one soul here was ready to face such a beast."

  "We could not pierce it with our arrows, with our swords. The mages magic was worthless, the cowards fled. Without their protection, we could not do a thing. Slowly, one by one I heard my comrade’s fall. Their screams, oh their screams."

  The man wept, then moaned again in agony as his burns ached and throbbed. He leaned forward, resting his bare head against their joined hands. "My lord slayer. Avenge them."

  Libelle nodded at him, prying with only one more question. "What did the dragon look like?"

  His good eye widened again, welling with more tears and his lip quivered. "It was the color of gold, I would say it was beautiful if it was not out to eat my innards."

  The slayer sighed and stood as her servant skidded to a stop beside her, his horse held by one of the two guards trailing behind him. He focused on the wounded man for but a moment before returning his gaze to her, her expression grim as she wiped her brow behind the metal helm.

  A dragon, one who had lived a long time, gained much knowledge, and a whole lot of power. Why such a dragon would attack a town like Edinburgh puzzled her, the creatures tended to remain high on the mountain peaks avoiding pointless feuds. The war with their kind was becoming troublesome.

  She sighed again, "Gaalin, tend to his wounds. Bring him to a healer as fast as you can."

  "No, my place is by your side." He responded coolly but in a stern voice.

  She swatted at him, she did not want him anywhere near the upcoming fight. "No, your place is to do as you are told! Now obey your lord, and tend to this man!"

  Libelle rarely shouted, she rarely had a temper, at least one that was expressed. The stunned Gaalin stared back at her, about to open his mouth to argue with her as she glared at him, when a deep rumbling roar emerged from above them.

  The sound shook the landscape, sending quakes through the ground beneath their feet. Gaalin covered his sensitive ears, the two guards holding the horses wailed as the four-legged beasts scattered, tearing away from the weak hold on their reins. The man at the slayers feet only whimpered, accepting that there was nothing that he could do.

  The slayer however, simply squared her shoulders and turned towards the late morning sun to the east. She swallowed hard, eyeing the speck of the amber winged beast in the distance. She drew her bow and arrow, taking wide steps in the direction on the oncoming creature.

  "Gaalin, you best get moving." She snapped.

  He tried to follow, "My lord, I cannot-"

  "You will do it, and you will do it now!" Her voice echoed.

  Gaalin gritted his teeth but knelt beside the guard, retrieving a minor healing tonic from his pack. "You two grunts, get your assess over here and cover my hide!"

  His rough accent sneaked through with his temper. "That dragon gets near me, you two will be the bait it takes."

  The two guards settled themselves beside him as he aided the guard in drinking the foul tasting tonic, before he began a soft spoken chant; his hands began to glow and his spell continued, healing the man's wounds very slowly. There was no way he could move him in his current state.

  The dragon roared again, this time the sound was followed by a fiery breath: a demonstration of the ancient beast’s power. It drew closer, its large wings sending it soaring through the sky at an alarming speed.

  Libelle began to run towards the beast, taking high and wide steps towards it as she let loose an arrow. The enchanted bow increased the power behind every shot, but each shot sapped her strength: there was only a limited number of times she could attack the beast with the petty enchantment. She readied another arrow as the first skidded off the scaled chest of the dragon, she had maybe two more shots before she would have to switch to her sword.

  She let the arrow loose, quickly notching another before the first had time to find its target. The dragon was getting closer and closer, she could now see the anger and fury burning in its eyes. She gritted her teeth, and skidded to a stop.

  "Tyr, guide my arrow to its mark."

  She drew the bow back as far as the wood would bend, willing her strength into the pointed metal. She exhaled, and released. The arrow flew through the air at alarming speeds at the threat in front of her, the beast opened its mouth in another threatening and intimidating roar: which suddenly turned into a howl of pain.

  Libelle watched as the dragon's whole body flinched on impact, its wings paused for a moment too long as its head lurched backwards and its body stiffened: the arrow found its mark. Deeply imbedded into its left golden eye. The ancient beast tried desperately to correct its own mistake of reacting to such pain, but it was futile.

  Its body plummeted to the ground, its chest impacting first before its neck and head slammed down in front of its body. The fragile wings crumpled up around it before the beast made a complete and sudden impact on the soil before it rolled forward and tumbled over itself.

  Libelle rushed forward, placing herself between the beast and the mortals behind her. The ancient grunted and growled, finding its bearings and adjusting itself in the crater it had made in its crash-landing. Its hind legs struggled to get beneath its weight, its long tail slamming down into the frost as its wings pushed itself upright.

  The slayer stared into the single eye of the downed-beast, it glared back at her almost dead eyes. It tried to take a step towards her, but the motion of placing its whole weight on its wings made it collapse. Its wing was broken, the bones crushed. There was no way it could move by using that limb.

  "Calm yourself dragon." Libelle snarled, grasping the hilt of her sword between her hands. She had taken advantage of the time the beast took to land to drop her bow and ready herself with her heavy sword.

  The beast snarled, a gurgling sound erupting from its throat right before a burst of flames shot from its dagger filled mouth. Libelle rolled away from the heat and stood up again. "I said calm yourself, if you do not calm yourself I'll strike you down where you stand!"

  The ancient growled again, another burst of flames erupting from its mouth that she l
unged from once again.

  "Calm yourself!" She spat out, taking a deep breath before bellowing out at the damned creature "Calm!" The force of her words stung her ears and the dragon before it suddenly swayed. Its body drooped, and the beast settled down and laid in the dew covered grass. Its breathing slowed to a steady and relaxed manner, and it glared at her. Oh, did it glare.

  “Slayer." Its voiced was chilling, a low rumble as it spoke in its native tongue.

  Libelle steadied herself but still held her sword up. "Dragon, what do you call yourself?"

  The dragon chuckled, still laying relaxed on the ground. "You are a fool, slayer. There is no need of formalities between one such as me, and you… one born to kill my kin."

  The dragon slowly adjusted its broken wing around its body.

  "Alright then then, no need for formalities." Libelle said, pausing to give the dragon a chance to respond but it did not take it. "What brought you down from the mountains? What made you choose to attack Edinburgh, you are an old and wise beast. What made you chose this path?"

  "You are a slayer mortal, yet you are a dragon. You are killing your own kind, cursed by the gods by your actions in a past life."

  Libelle growled back, "The dragon are not my kin."

  It chuckled again, "But you are slayer, born a dragon in a mortal’s body. You have the soul of a dragon woman, you are cursed."

  "Get to the point dragon. You are testing my patience. I asked you a question."

  The dragon seemed to be just as impatient as she was, "Fool," it growled again, "You kill the dragons at the command of a mortal king. You are merely a pawn in this game, and my task is to draw you out."

  This time the dragon chuckled, its scaled lips curling into a devilish smile. "And I have succeeded."

  “What do you mean..?" She froze, a multitude of thoughts began spiraling around in her mind. This ancient dragon was tasked with only drawing her out? Why?

  If the dragons wanted her, they did not need to send an ancient beast such as this one to draw her out into the open. What were they planning? Could Eskil be up to something again? The charcoal colored beast hadn't been seen for quite some time, so it wouldn't surprise her.

  Yet why sacrifice a powerful beast such as this, for such a seemingly meaningless task. She thought back to the recent attacks on the Nordic settlements. There had been an awful lot lately, and now that she really thought about it they seemed to be more strategically occurring. Were they testing the nord’s or were they testing her? Libelle froze when she locked eyes with the dragon.

  "He knows," It snarled, "-and it won't be long before he avenges the fallen dragons your kind have slain." Its fangs were bound to tear through her flesh.

  The beast lunged at her, extending its deadly dagger filled mouth towards her. Libelle quickly rolled away from the ancient, leaping back to her feet and dodging another attack. It was stuck where it had landed, unable to bear weight on its broken wing it had no way to return to the air or chase after her as she darted about. The only way it could potentially harm her would be for her to get close enough for it to catch her in its jaws, or for its fiery breath to reach her.

  The dragon roared, voicing its frustration and anger at her with a blaze that would turn coal into diamond. "Fight me!"

  Libelle avoided yet another blast of fire, she did not want to kill the ancient but it left her no choice. She could not leave it where it lay, she could not send it on its way either. There was no honor rewarded for taking its life, none at all. She leapt as high as she was able when the dragon snapped at her again, reaching down and grasping one of its hard and scaled horns protruding from its skull. Quickly she secured her grip and swung her heels down to land at the nape of its neck, balancing herself as the dragon reared its head back and swung it side to side.

  Yes, there was no honor from takings its life; but it was necessary. The dragon unleashed another roar, only for its thundering voice to wane and change into a garbled moan. Libelle dug her sword deeply into the soft spot of its skull, wedging the blade into the core of its mind. The kill was swift and clean, and the dragon slumped forward as its eyes rolled back in its head. She was tossed forward, pulling the blade with her she fell from its head to the ground in front of the now-dead dragon.

  Libelle stood, shaking the blood from the sharp blade before re-sheathing her weapon. The corpse of the beast slumped down into the dirt, it’s had drawn its final breath and now it would remain in the field to rot. There was an invisible force that was drawn from its body, and with it came agonizing pain.

  Each time she took a dragon's life, their end of life pain and suffering would be felt with every cell in her body. She felt despair. She hated the feeling, she hated the sour taste it left in her mouth, and the pit it formed in her stomach.

  The legend that the priests told about the dragon race, one that would have been hard to believe if these scaled beasts did not appear before her on such a regular basis. The Father of the God King Odin had birthed the dragon race long ago, and over years they had spread over the land. Infecting the large island Libelle lived on like pests.

  There had been years of peace, and when war started there were countless deaths on both sides. The only thing that prevented the dragons from winning easily, was the dragon slayers. They were cursed beings, ones who in a past life were once dragons. A dragon who had taken the life of their kin, and they were reborn as a mortal.

  There was rumor that if a dragon killed one another they would feel every emotion and sensation they felt in their final moments. She believed the rumor to be true, because with each dragon she slayed, she felt their death like it was her own. At the beginning of the war there were hundreds of slayers, now there were only a handful left.

  Such strange creatures Odin and his children had created. Eskil... She thought, referring to the first dragon Búri had created. He could be planning something, especially if an ancient dragon was dumb enough to take such a ridiculous move. He wanted to lure me out? For what? What would he have to gain now?

  She took a step backwards as a rush of excited voices erupted from the town behind her. The surviving citizens were now evacuating their shelters and stepping out into the sunlight. The guards who had ridden to her home were cheering, still kneeling next to the burned soldier who looked seemingly more pleasant than before. Gaalin was quickly moving towards her, not running but close-enough to it. He reached her side and grabbed her arm to steady her as she began to wobble on her feet.

  "My lord," He whispered. "-are you alright?"

  Libelle bent her knees and let herself fall to the ground, she remained upright and sitting but just needed a moment to process the illogical thoughts running through her mind. Gaalin called her name this time, but she still didn't respond.

  If Eskil is being so bold as to send an ancient to her, he must have a good reason to draw her out. Why would he want her out in the open so badly? What was his plan? If he is that focused and determined to draw me out, it's not for a good reason. Had he returned to the islands again? Is he prepared to try for my life again?

  She didn't know, she had no clue what his plans were: and that actually scared her.

  "Little slayer." A low-baritone voice rumbled.

  Libelle’s eyes shot upwards, this time her eyes locked with a pair of glowing yellow eyes and a black smile to match the sinister voice. No more than one hundred feet in front of her was possibly Helheim himself, sitting on a rocky perch staring her down like she was dinner meant for a starving mutt.

  “Eskil." She growled back, returning to her feet and gripping her sword tighter, raising it in front of her chest.

  He sneered at her, arching his neck with a deep throaty rumble. She adjusted her stance and gritted her teeth, waiting for the dragon to attack.

  "Gaalin, get back."

  This time her manservant obeyed without a word of defiance, he took several steps backwards before turning and taking wide running steps in the opposite direction. Eskil bellowed out a forc
eful roar, his voice echoing across the land and stinging the ears of all who could hear it. With his roar came an invisible force that shook the land and sent a blast of hot air across the ground. The guards and citizen’s screamed, fleeing the area and back to the safety of their city. Libelle covered her eyes with her arm as the shout kicked up all the dust and dew around her, causing a large and thick cloud to form around her. She couldn't see anything, the fine particles of soil stung her eyes. She felt something hot wash across her body, like steam from a geyser. She lowered her arm and slowly opened her eyes, squinting at the pain caused by the dust cloud.

  Libelle almost fell over backwards when her eyes landed on Eskil's, he was almost touching her. His hot breath flushed over her, each breath releasing a gust of hot air that fogged in the cool temperatures. He had his nostrils against her abdomen, pushing her backwards but not enough to cause her to fall. His eyes were narrowed but he still had that wicked smile across his razor mouth.

  The black dragon was massive in comparison to all other dragons she had ever faced, his body and his soul dark: black scales with ashy gray points covered his body. A pair of long and jagged horns shot from his head, with pairs of spikes protruding from his cheeks to chin. Starting at the base of his neck and down his back to his tail were more spiny dorsal spikes. His wings were massive, the skin-like tissue with weaves of black webs that attached to the bony prominences.

  His teeth were long, fitting together like a puzzle between his lips. His chest expanded with each breath, his abdomen flexing as he adjusted on his hind legs, his tail swaying inches above the ground to maintain his balance. He was giant, intimidating and deadly.

  She couldn't explain it, but she froze at the sight of him. Her limbs went rigid and she actually froze, unable to raise her sword against him. He would kill her where she stood now. She swallowed hard, her blue eyes wide behind her helm.