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I'll be posting my story here as well!  If you're interested in it, please feel free to follow my other account: ManuWrites

Thank you if you take the time to read it!

Previous Chapter:
Next Chapter:

All Chapters HERE.

CHAPTER 64: ONE DRAGON

                Golden eyes met Malia when she opened hers.
                It took her a few breaths to realize what was going on. Her fist was buried in the dragon’s chest. Only the sound of dripping blood defied the cavern’s precipitous silence. Behind the dragon, she saw the maiden’s black eyes widening in terror.
                Malia stumbled backwards, extracting her arm from the dragon’s chest, and just then recognizing it too had been shattered by the impact. She didn’t feel any pain, but the sight of her trembling mangled hand let her know that wasn’t a good sign.
                As soon as she removed her limb, the dragon fell to his knees. The wound Malia had inflicted started bleeding profusely, but it was far from the worst oozing injury: only by stepping back did Malia finally notice that the Dragon was missing an arm and part of his torso, as if they had been cut clean off. She had no idea how or when it had happened, so she stared in confused astonishment.
                But Hedera and Gorken knew. They had seen it all.
                In the midst of his fight against the human, the dragon had noticed Malia’s intentions a split second before the maiden could. He had tried to rush to the white woman’s aid, but Gorken had stood in his way, his sword blocking the dragon’s path. And so the dragon had run through the sword, leaving his arm and part of his torso behind as if they were disposable garments.
                Gorken hadn’t had the time to process what the dragon was doing, but Hedera had.
                She had dashed to stand between the dragon and Malia, assuming the dark creature would aim to kill the princess before she could attack the maiden. But in the golden eyes of her king Hedera didn’t find killing intent. Against all reason, she let the dragon continue his path, witnessing how he chose to place himself between Malia’s fist and the maiden’s thin body.
                They all watched the scene soundlessly. As the dragon collapsed on the floor, the maiden seemed to materialize beside him. Crystalline tears were falling down her pale cheeks, but her features were shaped by anger.
                “You liar! Liar, liar, liar, liar!” She yelled at her dragon, furious. “How dare you lie to me?! You said you’d help me with my dream! You said you’d stay with me until the end! You said you’d never betray me! Liar! Liar!”
                Malia, Gorken and Hedera were taken aback. The maiden sounded like a spoiled child, desperate and sad. As if answering her cries, the dragon’s humanoid form began to grow and distort. An enormous cloud of steam emerged from it, compressed energy and matter being released for the first time in centuries; the hot windy pressure sent Malia staggering backwards, until she was standing near her two comrades.
                When Malia could finally open her eyes, the maiden was kneeling in the same exact place, unfazed by the burst of steam that should have sent her flying. Next to the maiden was no longer a wounded human body, but a dragon. The Dragon. A gargantuan winged lizard with scales as black as the maiden’s eyes was bleeding out next to the white woman.
                Hedera’s nature forced her to kneel before the majestic creature. Malia and Gorken could feel their hearts trembling. The dragon was terrifying. The dragon was beautiful. And he was dying.
                Malia didn’t understand why, but tears welled in her eyes, their source a bottomless shame that nearly consumed her. The dragon’s blood now looked like liquid gold, and it was her fault that it was spilling on the floor. Why was she so remorseful? Why am I even here?
                A deep guttural voice resounded inside them, but his words were meant for the maiden and the maiden alone, “I did not lie, my sweet maiden. I simply failed… once more. On that day my sin was my willful ignorance, I couldn’t protect you. On this day, my failure is that I did. When I saw that girl’s core approaching yours… I could never watch you die, not again. Do you remember? There is only one dragon. There is only one maiden. You slayed my perennial solitude… What’s the point then, of a dragon with no maiden? I won’t go back there. You’re right. I’m a liar. I’m selfish. I’d rather die with you by my side. I’ve failed you.”
                “So you’ll just leave me behind?!” the white woman’s cries were almost a tantrum, “What’s the point of a maiden with no dragon? It’s not fair! It’s not fair!”
                The dragon opened his golden eyes, “Our cave… If only I had gone with you that day… If I had loved you like you needed, if I had been there for you… I’m sorry. In the past I was a coward for not being there, and now I’m a coward for being here. If only I…”
                “No!” the maiden said, “It wasn’t your fault. The world’s the one at fault. It’s cruel and indifferent, even to the Demon King. Don’t you remember? You did nothing wrong. You’ve always been the best. The strongest, the bravest, the kindest. You’re not remembering correctly. You’re my dragon. You’re mine, and you’re the best.”
                The dragon’s eyelids hung heavily, “We should go flying. I’ll take you, like I promised. We’ll fly all over this island kingdom, beyond the mountains and the sea. My wings are big and strong. I’ll take you. We can still do it. You’ll love it, I’m sure.”
                The white maiden smiled, “Of course. We’ll fly together. I’ve always wanted to feel the sky breeze on my skin. We’ll go together.”
                Silence. There was silence. No one moved. No one dared.
                Hedera clenched her fist against her chest. She’d never felt such pain before.
                The dragon was dead.

                Gradually, rapaciously, the empty quiet morphed into the maiden’s grief. She sobbed and cried and screamed, covering her face with her delicate hands. Even then, no one moved. No one dared.
Malia choked back her own tears, punished and beaten by the maiden’s unshackled heartbreak echoing across the iridescent lair. The pitiful laments unfolded, unfiltered and protracted, as if they could last endlessly. A memory flickered, the image of a blurry chamber seen through the cloudy eyes of a crying child, and Malia’s courage restored her. She was no stranger to sorrow. In time, no one is. She wouldn’t lose to it.
                The princess walked up to the dragon’s body. She bowed her head, a gesture of respect and of regret. She felt voicing her apology would have trivialized it. So, only within, the words reverberated: I’m sorry.
                She then got closer to the maiden, who kept wailing without as much as acknowledging her existence. Malia hesitated, but she was tired of remorse. She sat beside the white woman. Slowly, she raised her good hand, gently placing it on the maiden’s quivering shoulder.
                Instead of touching the maiden’s white skin, Malia’s hand went through her body as if the white woman was nothing but a mirage.

                She was nothing but a mirage.

Description

I'll be posting my story here as well!  If you're interested in it, please feel free to follow my other account: ManuWrites

Thank you if you take the time to read it!

Previous Chapter:
Next Chapter:

All Chapters HERE.

CHAPTER 64: ONE DRAGON

                Golden eyes met Malia when she opened hers.
                It took her a few breaths to realize what was going on. Her fist was buried in the dragon’s chest. Only the sound of dripping blood defied the cavern’s precipitous silence. Behind the dragon, she saw the maiden’s black eyes widening in terror.
                Malia stumbled backwards, extracting her arm from the dragon’s chest, and just then recognizing it too had been shattered by the impact. She didn’t feel any pain, but the sight of her trembling mangled hand let her know that wasn’t a good sign.
                As soon as she removed her limb, the dragon fell to his knees. The wound Malia had inflicted started bleeding profusely, but it was far from the worst oozing injury: only by stepping back did Malia finally notice that the Dragon was missing an arm and part of his torso, as if they had been cut clean off. She had no idea how or when it had happened, so she stared in confused astonishment.
                But Hedera and Gorken knew. They had seen it all.
                In the midst of his fight against the human, the dragon had noticed Malia’s intentions a split second before the maiden could. He had tried to rush to the white woman’s aid, but Gorken had stood in his way, his sword blocking the dragon’s path. And so the dragon had run through the sword, leaving his arm and part of his torso behind as if they were disposable garments.
                Gorken hadn’t had the time to process what the dragon was doing, but Hedera had.
                She had dashed to stand between the dragon and Malia, assuming the dark creature would aim to kill the princess before she could attack the maiden. But in the golden eyes of her king Hedera didn’t find killing intent. Against all reason, she let the dragon continue his path, witnessing how he chose to place himself between Malia’s fist and the maiden’s thin body.
                They all watched the scene soundlessly. As the dragon collapsed on the floor, the maiden seemed to materialize beside him. Crystalline tears were falling down her pale cheeks, but her features were shaped by anger.
                “You liar! Liar, liar, liar, liar!” She yelled at her dragon, furious. “How dare you lie to me?! You said you’d help me with my dream! You said you’d stay with me until the end! You said you’d never betray me! Liar! Liar!”
                Malia, Gorken and Hedera were taken aback. The maiden sounded like a spoiled child, desperate and sad. As if answering her cries, the dragon’s humanoid form began to grow and distort. An enormous cloud of steam emerged from it, compressed energy and matter being released for the first time in centuries; the hot windy pressure sent Malia staggering backwards, until she was standing near her two comrades.
                When Malia could finally open her eyes, the maiden was kneeling in the same exact place, unfazed by the burst of steam that should have sent her flying. Next to the maiden was no longer a wounded human body, but a dragon. The Dragon. A gargantuan winged lizard with scales as black as the maiden’s eyes was bleeding out next to the white woman.
                Hedera’s nature forced her to kneel before the majestic creature. Malia and Gorken could feel their hearts trembling. The dragon was terrifying. The dragon was beautiful. And he was dying.
                Malia didn’t understand why, but tears welled in her eyes, their source a bottomless shame that nearly consumed her. The dragon’s blood now looked like liquid gold, and it was her fault that it was spilling on the floor. Why was she so remorseful? Why am I even here?
                A deep guttural voice resounded inside them, but his words were meant for the maiden and the maiden alone, “I did not lie, my sweet maiden. I simply failed… once more. On that day my sin was my willful ignorance, I couldn’t protect you. On this day, my failure is that I did. When I saw that girl’s core approaching yours… I could never watch you die, not again. Do you remember? There is only one dragon. There is only one maiden. You slayed my perennial solitude… What’s the point then, of a dragon with no maiden? I won’t go back there. You’re right. I’m a liar. I’m selfish. I’d rather die with you by my side. I’ve failed you.”
                “So you’ll just leave me behind?!” the white woman’s cries were almost a tantrum, “What’s the point of a maiden with no dragon? It’s not fair! It’s not fair!”
                The dragon opened his golden eyes, “Our cave… If only I had gone with you that day… If I had loved you like you needed, if I had been there for you… I’m sorry. In the past I was a coward for not being there, and now I’m a coward for being here. If only I…”
                “No!” the maiden said, “It wasn’t your fault. The world’s the one at fault. It’s cruel and indifferent, even to the Demon King. Don’t you remember? You did nothing wrong. You’ve always been the best. The strongest, the bravest, the kindest. You’re not remembering correctly. You’re my dragon. You’re mine, and you’re the best.”
                The dragon’s eyelids hung heavily, “We should go flying. I’ll take you, like I promised. We’ll fly all over this island kingdom, beyond the mountains and the sea. My wings are big and strong. I’ll take you. We can still do it. You’ll love it, I’m sure.”
                The white maiden smiled, “Of course. We’ll fly together. I’ve always wanted to feel the sky breeze on my skin. We’ll go together.”
                Silence. There was silence. No one moved. No one dared.
                Hedera clenched her fist against her chest. She’d never felt such pain before.
                The dragon was dead.

                Gradually, rapaciously, the empty quiet morphed into the maiden’s grief. She sobbed and cried and screamed, covering her face with her delicate hands. Even then, no one moved. No one dared.
Malia choked back her own tears, punished and beaten by the maiden’s unshackled heartbreak echoing across the iridescent lair. The pitiful laments unfolded, unfiltered and protracted, as if they could last endlessly. A memory flickered, the image of a blurry chamber seen through the cloudy eyes of a crying child, and Malia’s courage restored her. She was no stranger to sorrow. In time, no one is. She wouldn’t lose to it.
                The princess walked up to the dragon’s body. She bowed her head, a gesture of respect and of regret. She felt voicing her apology would have trivialized it. So, only within, the words reverberated: I’m sorry.
                She then got closer to the maiden, who kept wailing without as much as acknowledging her existence. Malia hesitated, but she was tired of remorse. She sat beside the white woman. Slowly, she raised her good hand, gently placing it on the maiden’s quivering shoulder.
                Instead of touching the maiden’s white skin, Malia’s hand went through her body as if the white woman was nothing but a mirage.

                She was nothing but a mirage.