VIII-3
444 Words
Dark flew through a turbulent night sky. It swirled around him, pushed him through a cloud. He flapped his wings hard, but it was nothing against the jet stream in his face. The smell of ozone was thick around him.
He was running.
Running away.
A troop of dragons surrounded him.
Fenroot was at his side. The silver dragon had a soft glow on his face.
Dark wanted to bite his face off.
But no … were they enemies yet?
No, not here … not now….
“The enemy approaches,” Fenroot said, looking concerned. “We have no choice but to turn around and attack.”
In the distance, several shadows loomed.
Dragons. Dissenters.
So many thoughts raced through his head as he remembered this memory.
They had announced his parents’ ascension to a group of Keepers in the mountains. The dragons didn’t agree and launched an attack. Not even Dark had expected it.
His mother’s advice sounded in his head.
In the off chance they put up a resistance, do not come home until they are eviscerated.
And yet he was running away.
He growled.
“What should we do?” Fenroot asked.
Dark turned to him, unable to control his anger. “You’re loyal all of a sudden.”
No. He hadn’t said that in the memory. He hadn’t said that at all. They had changed direction and flew out over the ocean, circling back on their enemies and attacking them head on, striking them into the sea.
But here he was, arguing with Fenroot.
“What do you mean?” Fenroot asked. “Forgive me, but I am not understanding you.”
“I’ll end this right now.”
“Now is not the time to be cryptic. I recommend that we—”
SLASH!
Dark slashed Fenroot in the throat. His claws struck against scale and drew blood. Then Dark sank his teeth into the silver dragon’s throat, and Fenroot roared.
Dark ripped his head to the side, tearing out a hunk of flesh. Its hot scaly mass was moist in his jaws.
Fenroot clutched his throat, hardly realizing what had happened, and he fell into the sea.
Dark spit out blood and scales and he laughed. “You cannot defeat me, you coward! What did you expect, that you could really become a Dragon Lord? Ha!” Dark looked around at the empty, starry sky. “World, reverse my untoward fate!”
He glanced up at the stars, expecting time to rearrange itself.
With Fenroot dead, there would be no betrayal.
There would be no curse.
There would be no future society with elves and magic. No end to the way of life that he protected.
No dreamless sleep.
There would be only him, Dragon Lord supreme, and everything he lost, back into his grasp again.
“The enemy advances,” one of his dragons said.
“Let them come,” Dark said. He reversed, commanded his dragons to do the same, and they flew toward the enemy.
- Writer
