Chapter 28 Faron #2
The dragon howled, and it slammed its eye shut, the thick eyelid trapping Faron’s sword and hands within.
He put his feet to the dragon’s face, braced his legs, and kicked to rip his sword free.
He fell the short distance to the ground, rolled to absorb the impact, and then came up with weapons at the ready.
The dragon howled, a deep rumble mixed with the faintest serpentine hiss.
Blood seeped from its wounded eye, and fire leaked between its teeth.
“That’s right, keep your eye on me!” Faron shouted at the furious creature. He knew, buried deep beneath the rampage, there burned a fierce intellect. It would recognize what he was, what he truly was, and seek to end him as its greatest threat.
Fire swelled within its open maw. Faron grinned. Perhaps it recognized him, perhaps not, but it most certainly wanted him dead. It opened its jaws wide and breathed out its flame, a spout dozens of feet wide. Avoiding it was impossible. His armor would mean nothing against it.
“Faron!” Isabelle screamed, hesitating just underneath the dragon’s throat.
Faron dropped to his knees, closed his eyes, and trusted the only power in all of Kaus worth trusting.
A shield of radiance shimmered around him, sparkling translucent silver.
He focused his mind upon it, hardening it, giving it strength to deny the flame.
The dragon’s fire washed over him, and he felt no heat.
The shield creaked and groaned in his mind like cracking glass, but it did not break.
The fire ceased, and he disbanded the shield before the last of the smoke from the charred grass blew away, to reveal himself unharmed.
“Leliel is with me!” he shouted to the dragon, knowing this moment, and his survival, would be retold for years to come. “Your fire is nothing!”
The beast roared in defiance, which shifted to pain as Isabelle thrust her sword into the base of its neck, her blade sliding up and underneath scales to carve the soft flesh underneath.
Soldiers swarmed the dragon’s body, hacking into its legs, its sides, and even its tail.
Many more rushed to join Isabelle, refusing to let her fight alone.
The little nicks and cuts only added to the dragon’s ferocity, and it rose into the air, fire swelling in its throat.
Faron sprinted underneath the neck, legs pumping, shield rising.
Two soldiers unknowingly barred his way, but he flung them aside to crash into Isabelle.
His shield positioned between them and the dragon, he flooded his body with radiance as the fire exploded from the dragon’s mouth to wash over them.
Men and women screamed, blackening to bone and ash before the barrage, but not Faron and Isabelle.
She was safe in his arms. Their eyes met for the briefest moment, and he sensed her questions, but she kept them silent.
The fire faded. The two separated, and Faron readied his sword, but his chance to attack never came.
The dragon’s front leg swiped across him, carving a deep groove into his shield when he blocked.
The impact sent him rolling, and he went limp to minimize the damage.
He came up to his knees, his attention snapping back to the queen.
The dragon bore down on Isabelle, its teeth eager to crush her. Panic spiked in Faron’s breast, but he fought it down. This was it. This was the moment. The creature was bloodied and weakened, but if the kill was to be hers, she must take it on her own. He had to trust her to survive. To succeed.
“I am the blade of the goddess!” Isabelle screamed. “I am her light!”
Wings burst from her back as they had during her coronation, and they carried her into the air to meet the jaws of the dragon. Light flared brilliant from every inch of her armor. Her sword rose high, and across its blade shimmered a beam of gold so bright, it was blinding.
The dragon hesitated, its good eye turning away from that light, and that moment spelled its doom.
Isabelle screamed, a wordless, primal cry of triumph heard throughout the entire battlefield, and then swung her sword.
An arcing beam of light flashed off the steel, twice the size of her meager sword, and flew through the air.
It struck the dragon’s throat, and against that golden power, its scales crumpled inward. Flesh separated. Blood flowed.
The dragon cried out, that winded shriek lacking the power of its earlier roars.
Its wings flapped wildly, unable to lift it.
Its legs thrashed, but the frantic flailing passed harmlessly above a perfectly still Isabelle.
The dragon toppled to one side, its eye bulging, its mouth opening and closing like a dying fish, and then collapsed completely.
Its head struck the dirt, mere feet away from the queen, and it lay still.
Silence followed, the air electric, and then the cheers sounded from the crowds.
Faron sheathed his sword and approached the queen, knowing they must capitalize on this moment before it was too late.
He sprinted past her to the dragon’s head, climbed up halfway, and then turned about while hanging there.
“Come, my lady,” he said, and offered her his hand.
Isabelle startled as if waking from a dream.
Her wings were gone, as was the light that had enveloped her.
Realizing what he wanted, she nodded and accepted.
With his help, she climbed atop the head of the slain beast. The height made her visible to all four armies, and she lifted her sword high above her head while shouting at the top of her lungs.
“The dragon is slain!”
The soldiers cheered, clapped, and stomped their boots to create a din that matched even the dragon’s mightiest roar. Faron let it echo for a brief moment before pooling radiance in his throat and projecting his voice so it boomed above the rest.
“Dragon slayer! Dragon slayer!”
The Doremy forces took up the chant first, then Forez, and then even Etne and Vivarai.
“Dragon slayer! Dragon slayer!”
Isabelle slowly lowered her sword, and she looked down at Faron.
The sunlight caught in her hair. Her cloak billowed in the wind and smoke from the dwindling fires of the dragon’s breath.
Blood, dragon blood, stained her clothes, her armor, and even her face, but it only added to the image. And then she smiled at him.
“All hail my queen,” Faron said, even though no one would hear him, not even her. His heart was aflutter. It felt like a confession.
“All hail Isabelle the dragon slayer.”