The dragon lay down, as usual, on his favorite rock and, bored, awaited the entertainment of a skirmish with those pesky creatures in tin boxes. Knights clad in armor appeared from time to time, brandishing ridiculous weapons that could only scratch his back. They wanted to kill him, and he couldn't understand their determination, which manifested itself in a contempt for their own lives, which, in his opinion, was patently stupid, for, as he had been taught, every intelligent creature should treat its own life as paramount. Despite numerous defeats, they continued to arrive in droves and die in the hope of defeating the living symbol of wisdom and strength, the invincible dragon Kundo.
The fire-breathing monster had appeared in the Malkutt Mountains out of nowhere. It found refuge in a ruined tower and inspired terror in the surrounding villages. He terrified the livestock with his winged shadow, which languished before the eyes of his distressed farmers. He drank from streams and lakes flowing into the bowls, and when hungry, he hunted fat lambs, sluggish calves, and frisky foals displayed on the green plates of the pastures. Occasionally, he kidnapped a fair-haired shepherdess, but when pangs of conscience arose, he convinced himself he had mistaken her for a sheep and freed the frightened maiden. However, these incidents were rare, and he did so more out of boredom than cruelty.
The dragon Kundo was in a good mood. The day was clear yet breezy. Sunlight filtered easily between the clouds, warming his skin, while gusts of wind cooled his hot belly. He glanced at his ample manhood and smiled approvingly. He winked at a vulture perched on a rock, hoping to sate its hunger, having already digested its meal. Skeletons of humans and horses gleamed white among the rocks, no longer resembling the royal entourage that had passed this way a few days ago.
The dragon said to the bird, as repulsive as a balding troll.
"Princess Rose is slowly becoming accustomed to my appearance. I'll soon be a humanoid creature. Even your bald face can't fathom how handsome I was... And how virile. Sigh!"
He remembered what he had looked like before the Master of Balance's sentence, which condemned him to animal form. It had been so long ago. Back then, he had been a handsome elf, a student eager for knowledge, and unfortunately, he had made a mistake for which he had to pay a high price. In his current form, he also bore grave sins. But who cares? He had already lost hope of ever atonement for his evil deeds. Meanwhile, he was in for a pleasant surprise; he hadn't even imagined that affection for a human being could neutralize such a powerful spell.
He interrupted his recollections and spread his wings. He carefully examined the surface of the membranes, stretching the skin between the overgrown fingers. He checked the sharpness of the claws, teeth, and the condition of the scales. He completed his inspection, confirming his belief that the transformation had progressed too slowly, and had even seemed to have stalled.
"Have I loved too much?" he asked unconsciously, his thoughts drifting to his meeting with the princess.
It was last night, when the noble maiden gazed hopefully into the rocky distance, sadly bidding farewell to the setting sun's rays that penetrated her airy shirt and caressed her supple body, staining her skin a luminous crimson. She slowly accepted the situation, realizing that the winged monster threatened her only with imprisonment. Feeling lonely and yearning for someone to talk to before bed, she turned to the dragon, convinced he didn't understand her.
"My overgrown lizard, with the wings of a flying mouse, what a pity that these stories about dragons speaking with a human voice are children's bedtime stories... How bored I am here in this tower, in the company of a silent monster who can only bulge and stare lewdly... I will have to grow old here, waiting for the rescue of an illiterate prince... How pathetic..."
Kundo listened and longed to speak to this beautiful woman, whose eyes, green like his, held some inscrutable purity. Her aura, with its pink glow, tinged blue and intensified above her pale head in a violet glow. Suddenly he felt the blood warm the area around his throat, the warmth spreading down the back of his neck. He choked, rasped, and for the first time in hundreds of years, he uttered a voice instead of a roar.
"Phew... What a relief!" How nice to hear myself speak. After all these years... Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm the dragon Kundo!" He bowed his reptilian head low and flapped his wing in a gallant bow.
The princess, taken aback, lost her footing. Her legs weakened with surprise, and she crouched down, her petticoat lifted to reveal her feminine charms. As they eyed each other from head to toe, she suddenly came to her senses when she saw the dragon gaze between her legs and drool lusciously, as if about to snack on something for breakfast. She hastily covered her nakedness and cried out in outrage.
"Oh! You! Filthy reptile! What is this?" she exclaimed, her anger unmistakable. "Now I know! You're an evil sorcerer who wants to take away my innocence. The only treasure I have left in this desolate place.
" "You're mistaken, beautiful princess!"
"Restore your true form and confess immediately!" "She tapped her bare foot like a naughty child wanting to get her way. "My fiancé won't let such an insult go unpunished," she threatened, taking on a proud stance. A mixture of contempt and fear etched on her face.
"Do you think I wear this reptile skin for pleasure?... I'm the victim of an evil spell. Someone concocted a spell a long time ago, adding snakeskin, a piece of dried bat, a pinch of chameleon, and it looks like the kitchen wasn't very clean, because a red insect fell into his bowl. That's how the concoction he gave me was created..."
"Yes, what do you say?! And if I kiss you, red monster, you'll turn into a prince and we'll live happily ever after with a bunch of pink babies?... Do you think I'm a naive little thing? I'm no longer a child, and I stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago."
Kundo understood that in the eyes of this innocent woman, he would always remain the monster who had kidnapped her and imprisoned her against her will. He spoke firmly, and the sincere truth was palpable in his voice, which the agitated interlocutor immediately understood.
"I beg your pardon, O beautiful Lady, but your presence is necessary, absolutely essential. It has a soothing effect on me. The cruel animal within me is slowly dying. I'm becoming as gentle as a lamb, and my dragon body is transforming. I'm becoming a humanoid creature again. I've just regained my vocal cords and can finally speak...
" "You mean you won't let me go, right! Do you realize the great harm you're causing me?" What consequences will this have on my kingdom and beyond? And my wedding? Everything's already planned...
"I'm sorry, but I don't tend to change my mind...
" "And don't think I'll stay here long. My fiancé will rescue me. It's a matter of honor... He's a knight! You can't even imagine how much I love you... As proof, I can quote you a poem I received from Prince George, my future husband...
" "Isn't this creative legacy a bit long?" the dragon asked apprehensively.
"No! The poem is very short, just a few stanzas.
" "All right," Kundo agreed. He didn't want to upset the princess and decided to force himself to listen to the nonsense, that's what he called what others called poetry.
Princess Rose began to quote from memory:
I received a message
as hungry as a chick in a nest,
opening its beak and waiting,
your arms are so outstretched,
your arms are so wide
, your arms are so open with hope,
I receive a letter
as trembling as a rooster in a fight
, its crest fluttering and chasing,
your lips are so red, your lips are so red, your lips are so red , your
lips are so
red, your lips are so red , your breasts are so red, your breasts are so red, your breasts are so red, your breasts are so red, your breasts are so red, your breasts are so red, your breasts are so red, your breasts are so red, your breasts are so red
, your breasts are so red, your sighs are so red, I read the words as absent as a peacock in mating season, spreading its tail in a fan, your eyes are so green, your eyes are so red, your eyes are so red, your eyes are so red, your eyes are so red, your dreams are so bright. I WRITE A REPLY...
The woman's chatter took over, and immediately after the poem, the princess unconsciously launched into a long monologue. The dragon then learned the entire history of the royal family, which he had slept through during his long lethargy of almost a hundred years. Princess Rose was the daughter of King Shechei and was soon to marry Prince George, son of the King of Tikut. This was to unite the two feuding families into one happy kingdom. Of course, that was the plan, but something stood in their way; it was he, Kundo, who proved to be the evil one. He kidnapped Princess Rose and routed the royal entourage that was escorting his lady to the betrothal. The
dragon yawned loudly, frightening flocks of birds, which resumed their mournful dance over the rocky hills. They delighted in the company of the ferocious dragon. They were doing a good job clearing the surrounding mountains of carrion. They were astonishing in their skill as they attacked the knights, clad in their armor, scorched. Their tin boxes were rusting in the sun and no longer glowed with their silvery gleam. Family banners on charred shafts protruded between the rocks, driven into place by the white hands of skeletons, looking like scarecrows. The wind fiercely tore at the heraldic symbols and shredded the fabric, which frightened them with holes and an ominous flapping.
"What was I thinking about?... Ah... Yes!"
He began to daydream again. He closed his eyes, exposing his scaly body and what lay beneath his belly to the sun, as it had cooled a bit too much. He remembered the morning. Princess Rose emerged from her makeshift bedroom onto the tower terrace. The delicate underskirt of her shirt, like a mist, covered her body, warmed by dreams that still stung her cheeks. As usual, Kundo crouched nearby, eagerly awaiting the sight of the beautiful woman.
The princess boldly climbed onto the tower's crown and, with her legs spread wide, greeted the golden dawn, whose rays illuminated the edges of the clouds and timidly touched the bristling hills. Shafts of light squeezed between her firm thighs, illuminating her intimate area. When he saw her slightly parted buttocks, he couldn't bear it. He approached quietly from behind and, carefully, so as not to hurt her, slipped his head between her spread legs. Then he spread the collar, exposing the delicate skin of her neck, and pushed off. The princess cried out in surprise as she suddenly found herself airborne.
They flew through the clouds into the blue sky. Startled, Rose gripped the dragon's neck with her thighs, wrapped her feet under his neck, and grabbed the protruding corners of his collar. Suddenly, she felt something springy between her buttocks. It was the beginning of a dorsal fin, extending across the entire body to the tail, where it expanded into blades. The crest was fortunately small, but it still pinched a bit due to its elasticity. The clever girl wiggled her hips and moaned passionately, surprised by the excitement that was sweeping through her.
Kundo, with his beautiful passenger on his back, flew away from the castle tower. The rocky ground was covered with a porous cloud cover. The sun appeared in its full glory above the clouds. The clouds below rippled like a sea swaying in the wind. The dragon made a few shallow turns between the towering clouds, which rose from the undulating, feathery surface like towering islands. Princess Rose felt like an Amazon on a winged steed; her fear vanished, and, overcome with the pleasure of flight, she admired the otherworldly sights. The muscles in her neck played a cyclical music, tensing like strings. The princess's body began to unconsciously move along the dorsal fin. As the heat of the woman's womb spread across the animal's neck, the dragon felt a growing excitement, and its androgynous underbelly accelerated its transformation. He perfectly understood the eternal dance of libido, which, with increasing urgency, compelled the woman to this instinctive movement. He decided to perform a few more powerful maneuvers. He remembered how, fresh from his transformation, he had shown off his intermediate and advanced piloting skills to be rewarded with a young lamb, but it had been so long ago; he had already forgotten why he had fled the elven world; he probably wanted to be free. He banked onto the wing. He entered a deep dive to gain speed, then soared into a growing upward slope toward the sky. He executed a loop, a rotation about the transverse axis. He repeated the same maneuver he had finished with the Imelman, meaning that when he reached the horizon in inverted flight, he reversed to a horizontal flight in a half-roll. During the aerial acrobatics, he constantly held the airborne Amazon with his collar and tried to generate positive G-force to prevent his passenger from falling off him during inverted flight. Then, from a backflip, he transitioned into a deep dive, crossing the vertical line, and generating significant g-force to complete the acrobatics with a spectacular combat turn. He executed a maneuver that could be defined as gaining altitude at the expense of speed in the shortest possible time, executing a 180-degree climbing turn. Centrifugal force forced the airborne Amazon into the dragon's neck. Princess Rose screamed in terror, and the sound she made changed pitch, influenced by the pleasure she experienced. The dragon performed a slow barrel roll, a longitudinal rotation, and carried her, half-fainted, in a glide. Above the tower, he performed a shallow spiral in descent...
An unpleasant, creaking sound roused the dragon from his reverie. He reluctantly opened his eyes and listened for a long moment. The sounds came from afar, and judging by the metallic clangs, one could expect a large crew. Kundo was not surprised by the rescue and attempt to rescue the princess, several days had already passed since her abduction.
"Well! I have another fight ahead of me," he stated indifferently, and began sharpening his claws on the rock. His transformation had made his claws shorter and blunter, but they were still deadly weapons for humans, even those clad in armor.
Kundo looked down at himself critically; he felt as if he had shrunk and was more comfortable sitting on his hind legs than lying down. His muscular limbs looked as if he were wearing thick tights, and his chitinous scales had become thinner, especially around his groin. He admitted that his combat capabilities were smaller than usual. He decided to change his battle tactics and make greater use of his strategic abilities. The most difficult duel of his dragon career awaited him, especially since his main weapon, fire-breathing, had been irreversibly lost due to his developed vocal cords. After some consideration, he decided to scout his opponent before attacking.
The dragon lifted off the ground and, in a spiral, gained altitude. His eyes were sharp. The body's transformation stopped at a level far beyond the average human's capabilities, as they perceived reality only through their five impaired senses. He flew even closer. He hid behind a cloud and uttered a sound inaudible to human ears; a three-dimensional map formed in his mind. He began to recognize the terrain from which the sounds were coming. Troops of armed soldiers emerged from behind the hill. The aerial observer realized he was facing a serious enemy. This was no unorganized crew. It was clear they knew exactly what they were up against. Besides, he only saw two riders; the rest of the soldiers were moving on foot. The lack of more horses meant they would be deprived of an effective tactic, which relied on frightening these timid animals. A long moment passed before the troop concentrated its forces again, and a renewed attack was enough to trigger a panicked retreat. This time, it seemed he would be facing a troop familiar with dragon-fighting strategies.
At the head of the column walked long-haired barbarians, powerfully built, blond men clad in leather. They carried three-meter-long spears. Behind them marched two ranks of dwarves, pulling ropes and pushing some kind of mobile device. The entire garrison was rounded out by armored soldiers, led by two knights. The armed men in the rear column carried enormous shields, and broad swords, crossbows, and double-edged axes were strapped to their belts. On their shoulders, they carried cow udders, likely filled with water. The entire unit numbered around three hundred, arranged in three columns.
The initial reconnaissance was enough for the dragon for now. He turned around in a tight curve and settled into his favorite spot. Slowly, like a chameleon, he mimicked the gray rocks, overgrown only here and there with bushy grass. He waited patiently for the columns, which had to pass by him because there was simply no other way. He decided to observe the troops more directly and listen to their conversations. He was filled with apprehension, reproaching himself for underestimating the strategic abilities of human beings. He could have set an ambush earlier, prepared traps, and considered effective battle tactics, but what? He was thinking about Maryna's ass—that is, her rosy ass. Saliva seeped from between his teeth and flowed as if from a rocky spring before congealing.
The armed troops marched slowly. The first column of barbarians began to pass a strange rock, slightly different from the others. It had a more streamlined shape compared to the jagged edges that dotted the surrounding terrain. The fair-haired mercenaries spoke the dialect of the snow people. They spoke mostly of the payment they hoped to receive in the form of various weapons.
The dwarven unit remained mostly silent, only a few whispering about the dragon's hidden treasure. The stocky figures walked in two rows with a swaying gait, pulling mobile slings and crossbows mounted on massive, creaking wagons by ropes. Only the last column, led by two knights fully clad in armor, was more talkative. The first figure spoke harshly, in a low baritone, a voice used to giving orders.
"This is where the attack on Princess Rose and her entourage took place," he pointed with his glove to the rock where the dragon was crouched, blending into the terrain. All around, one could see gear strewn by vultures and human skeletons mixed with horse bones. "Look! We'll go this way." And further north through the pass known as Purgatory. Then we'll turn left and reach our destination...
" "But we'll give him a hard time," the second figure, more slender and, judging by the tone of his voice, younger, picked up the conversation.
"That's how he'll get what he deserves! We're not a gang of thugs. Or a bunch of drunken youths seeking fame and hidden treasures.
" "We'll save the princess..."
"We'll win her a dragon pelt, a symbol of power and strength. You'll be a hero, prince!" shouted the stocky knight, slapping the armored back of the man riding next to him, causing his horse to jump and lurch forward a head.
"General... My subordinates can see. I have to uphold my good name; I'm going to be their king, after all." He tugged on his horse's bridle and drew level with the other man again.
"The sun has two fingers left until noon; you'll soon see your beloved. It would be a good idea to rest before the battle. Don't you think so?" " asked the general, ignoring the remarks of the prince who was his protégé.
"Yes, it's a good place to rest," the prince admitted, looking around.
They rode out of formation, turned their horses, and stood perpendicular to the marching crew. The general issued an order in a loud voice, echoing from the rocky spaces.
"Company, at my command!... Attention!" The soldiers shifted into a more forceful stride. "Halt!"... They stood erect as a string. "Relax and disperse! Arms at the ready!" The general watched with pride as his subordinates meticulously carried out his orders. He enjoyed drill, which fostered discipline and obedience. He often showed off his troops in parades before the royal tribune. He slowly dismounted, recalling those beautiful, solemn moments.
"Let's hope Rose is still a virgin," Prince George expressed his doubts, sliding from the saddle. He slumped heavily onto a nearby boulder, which resembled a powerful claw, and leaned against his pike.
The general, hearing the sadness and fear in the youthful voice, shooed the strangely irritated horses away, letting them find some grass among the rocks and sat down next to the prince. He said with amusement, trying to bolster his pupil's spirits.
"Well, I guess the prince doesn't believe those tales about dragons taking advantage of innocent girls. He's intelligent, but he's an animal, and he's certainly attracted to red bitches with webbed toes, not legs." The general sometimes liked to be dirty, but his companion didn't pursue the subject; he was too young and innocent.
"Well, yes, but apparently he speaks with a human voice," the prince remarked, trying to remove his helmet. The general shook his finger at him.
"And he has a great treasure hidden in a cave. It's all nonsense! Believe me. But then again, if it weren't for those tales, there would be fewer volunteers.
" "I don't know." People say all sorts of things…
"People embellish stories," the general interrupted, leaning back against a rock that seemed to mold to his armor. He settled comfortably, preparing for a longer speech. "Who would listen to bards if the songs didn't entertain and praise their ancestors?" he continued the conversation and changed the subject, recalling, as usual, his valiant youth. "As a mercenary, I participated in many wars that involved mutual slaughter. I often listened to poems praising the heroism of great commanders and their soldiers, who, in reality, became cruel torturers of conquered lands, merciless even to women and children. The consequence was hatred and revenge, until both sides exhausted their strength… My dear heir to the throne, remember the words of the old soldier. Peace comes when we are cleansed of the evil that stains and enslaves us." War ends when the warring parties bathe in suffering, scrubbed with pain, and dried with hunger.
"You're right, teacher... And after years, old quarrels and disputes become dirty, and everything begins anew.
" "Yes, but you see, my prince, as weapons modernize, wars become increasingly cruel, and more and more people die..."
"But is there any way out of this vicious circle?"
"Of course there is. But that beautiful feeling is becoming less and less common in our kingdom... They fight for influence, debate how to make life more difficult for their subjects, recall past mistakes, quarrel over positions, and encourage the king to go to war to fill the empty treasury...
" "As usual, you're exaggerating; we have peace after all," the prince interrupted, seeing his teacher slip into a chatty mood. He liked this experienced soldier and often listened to his wise advice, but now he had more important matters on his mind. "Returning to the subject of the expedition. I'm sure the princess is alive, my heart tells me so.
" "Relax, Prince... Our intelligence reports that there have been kidnappings of women before, ending with torn clothes.
" "I'm afraid she might go mad with fear, she's so sensitive. I have to save her."
The general lifted the visor of his helmet, stood up, and looked at the cloudy sky. He was full of forebodings, which he didn't tell the prince. The mere thought of the mission's failure filled him with fear for the future of his ward and the entire kingdom, which was seething with political infighting. Left-wing factions were practically demanding war, and only the wedding of the heirs to the throne could stop it. The words of the prince, who now lowered his head and was probably glad to have a visor on his face, aroused new fears.
The crouching dragon had had enough of lying around; his bones were numb. He decided on a small skirmish. He took advantage of the crew commander's carelessness and attacked. He flew up to the stocky figure and struck at the open visor with his talons. He crushed the man's face and caught a claw on the helmet. The severed head rolled across the road, leaving a red trail across the rocky pavement. The surprise was so great that the soldiers didn't even have time to use their ready-made weapons. Bolts remained in their crossbows, spears in their stiff hands, and they stood stunned, watching the winged shape disappear into the clouds. They looked at each other in disbelief and horror.
Kundo did what was necessary. He killed the crew commander, hoping to weaken the army's morale. He decided to buy them some time. He hoped some of the unit would panic and retreat. He executed an aerial figure-eight attack. After direct reconnaissance, it became obvious that to win, he had to destroy the heavy weaponry. The devices on the carts looked dangerous, given their undoubtedly considerable range and firepower. He lazily flapped his membranous wings, flying above the clouds, making him invisible to observers on the ground.
"I think a rockfall will destroy these wooden shells," he stated approvingly, pleased with his idea. "But where should we set up the ambush?"
The dragon shifted into a gliding flight. As it pierced the clouds, darkness enveloped it. It emitted sounds that echoed off obstacles, and the terrain formed in its mind. Kundo focused on the route the enemy forces must have taken to reach the old stronghold where it had been based. He found a suitable spot and decided to assess its suitability for an ambush. Once out of the clouds, he headed for a rocky pass. He sat on the edge of the precipice and looked down the rocky slope. The rock walls were just the right height and steepness.
"A medium-sized rock is enough, and an avalanche is guaranteed," he whispered under his breath, assessing the likelihood of a hit, and then looked at the opposite slope.
The mountain pass had a bad reputation. The natives called it the Gates of Purgatory, because anyone who passed through it was never heard from again, and even if they managed to return, they were transformed beyond recognition. The outstretched arms of rock looked like enormous scissors, gripped by the sky, as if waiting to slit their jagged edges and cut through the cloudy landscape. The approaching dark line of the atmospheric front heightened the dread of the place.
"The perfect place for an ambush," the dragon assessed, satisfied with his reconnaissance. "To increase the effectiveness of the attack, I'll trigger two avalanches, one on each side. So, two drops will have to be made simultaneously... Yes, that's a good plan. I'll wait for them here... A little nap before the fight will surely do me harm."
Kundo lay down on the edge of the precipice, closed his eyes, but couldn't sleep. He looked in the direction from which he expected the enemy to appear. He was certain of victory, but he felt a strange unease. Lately, he had been plagued by nightmares, the same dream over and over. He dreamed he was looking in a mirror, waiting to transform into a handsome elf. But something about the transformation felt wrong. With horror, he noticed he was transforming into a human with ash-blond hair and blue eyes. He knew dreams. Something, or someone, would stand in his way. His plan to seduce the princess who was supposed to restore his humanoid body would have a different outcome than he expected. He had a bad feeling and decided to be cautious; he wasn't in the habit of dismissing dreams. He knew that the subconscious sometimes penetrated the gates to the ever-forming future.
He unconsciously recalled being condemned to animal incarnation. It had been so long ago; his long dragon existence had obscured the event. He had once been a practicing sorcerer who resolved to improve his own future and become a Grand Master. In his naivety, he might have caused a gate to open and drained magical forces into another dimension. He broke the spell protecting his teacher's book and found a secret way out of his body. He entered the astral world in spirit form and peered into the mental world. For a moment, he saw his own matrix of reality, how events intertwined, but only externally; its central image within remained constant, and unfortunately, incomprehensible to the young mind. Too complex to comprehend. From that experience, he believed in his fate and that one could detour, delay time, but certainly not escape destiny, for what awaits us is the consequence of actions that have already taken place. We must reap what has been sown...
In the distance, the first rank of the column began to loom. The heads of blond men appeared. The barbarians were harmless, as they wore no armor. He smiled mockingly, looking at their defenseless bodies. He nodded pityingly at the sight of the tall, broad-shouldered blonds clad in leather. The iron blades of their spears were unable to penetrate the scales of their chitinous armor.
The dragon patted its chest with a curled wing, armed with a long thumb ending in a saber-like claw as long as a scythe. Its other fingers were extended and covered in leather, also tipped with sharp prongs like razors. He looked proudly at its clawed paws, its back adorned with a barbed fin, and its tail tipped with double-axe-shaped blades. The only real threat he hoped to destroy were the projectiles, but he doubted their accuracy or their ability to deliver a killing blow. The men would have to be very lucky to hit him in the armpits or under his collar, where the scales were thinnest.
Three squads emerged in all their glory. The time had come to drop. Kundo had determined the potential avalanche point and decided to wait a moment longer. Now the columns of soldiers behaved differently. The armed men moved cautiously, each crew member looking around carefully, weapons at the ready. Mobile slings and crossbows were loaded. The strength of the soldiers, at first glance, had diminished only in the last column.
"The bravest remain," the dragon declared appreciatively. "We'll see how many remain after my second attack." He smiled with contempt for these stolid creatures, who, compared to his speed, seemed downright sluggish.
Kundo targeted two large boulders and gripped them tightly in his claws. He waited patiently, then chose the most opportune moment and swiftly soared upward. He hurled them simultaneously at both slopes. The soldiers noticed a winged shadow against the rocks. Huge arrows slashed through the air, crossbow bolts whistled, and spears flew, intent on striking the dragon, but unfortunately, they missed, having underestimated the target's speed. A dull boom terrified them, erupting in the thunder of two simultaneous avalanches. Wide-eyed, they crouched in fear and awaited the inevitable, their obvious demise, watching in horror as the mass of rock fragments grew with each passing moment.
The thunder of the avalanches, interspersed with groans of pain, echoed repetitively through the surrounding mountains for a long time. Thick dust hung over the avalanche's origins, and when it began to settle, the wooden machines were nowhere to be seen. The survivors were divided into two groups. Wounded and half-blind, they frantically searched for their winged foe, who, through a gap in the clouds, watched the ensuing panic indifferently.
The dragon attacked the barbarians first. He positioned himself against the sun, whose rays had just broken through the clouds, and dived into the very center of the mercenary group. As he landed, his talons accurately hooked a pair of pale heads, which sprayed bloody ichor all around. The bones of the next victims grated as they were crushed into the ground. His chitinous axe-shaped tail whirled and slashed below the knees. Some of the broad-shouldered men lost half a meter of height and were left kicking with severed stumps in pools of blood. Kundo fell into a frenzy of combat. With his wingbeats, he sliced through skin, tendons, and muscles. His paws crushed bones. He ripped out entrails with his fangs, biting off heads. His deadly movements were so swift that it was difficult to discern the dragon's form. Finally, he recovered from his battle rage. He leaped to a nearby rise and surveyed the effects he had left behind. Below lay a pile of dead and mutilated men, groaning in agony.
The final column approached slowly, drawn by the terrible sounds of battle. The thick dust that still lingered over the buried dwarven unit made it impossible to see anything. The men, covered in dust, approached, shields covering themselves, aiming crossbows at suspicious locations. More of them remained than the barbarians, probably because of their armored bodies. The group numbered forty-something soldiers. When they reached the pile of torn mercenaries, their limbs lying around, their dripping blood merging into a small stream, a deafening silence reigned. Terror filled the air. The men dropped their weapons with numb hands and, as if on command, began to retreat. Finally, the entire unit fled in the direction they had come from. Only the knight remained. He held his horse by the bridle and shouted something incomprehensible, brandishing his pike at his panicked subordinates. Finally, he was left alone on the battlefield.
Kundo watched, amused, as the soldiers fled, losing their weapons, stripping off fragments of their armor to facilitate their movements, and running as fast as they could, as fast as they could, away from the site of their slaughter. A deafening silence fell, punctuated by the screeching of vultures descending from all over the area. Black flocks circled lower and lower, ready to begin their sumptuous feast. The winged monster leaped from the rock. It stood before the prince in all its glory. They looked at each other, sizing each other up from head to toe. The armed youth assumed a fighting stance. He aimed his crossbow and fired. The dragon flicked the bolt aside with a flick of his wing and said in a hissing voice,
"You're a clever man. You aimed for the eye, which shows you think in battle. I'd like to know who I'll have the pleasure of killing to seal another victory."
The knight threw aside the unnecessary crossbow, mounted his horse, and deftly took his pike under his arm, bowed, and replied proudly.
"Prince George of the House of Tikut. I am the betrothed of Princess Rose and I intend to fight with you in defense of her honor," he delivered a speech in accordance with the prevailing code of chivalry. His voice trembled only slightly, a testament to his courage and determination.
"I like you, young man, and it is with great regret that I will have to kill you, for there is no place for the two of us at her side.
" "I will fight! It is my honor to do so..."
"The princess is in my power. For the rest of her days..." So, depart in peace and find yourself a new wife for the descendants of a great house," he said, hoping to convince the youth to abandon this unequal fight.
Prince George rode closer and said arrogantly.
"How could I live with the knowledge that my beloved is in the hands of such a terrible monster?" What will I tell my father, the king? What?... That I was overcome with fear and fled like a cowardly dog. No! I will not disgrace my family! I prefer to die! We will fight to the death! Here and now!! Stand up!!!" He finally shouted bravely.
Prince George leaned even further in the saddle, lowered his pike, and spurred his horse, ready to attack. He made a few powerful air slashes, supporting the long lance with his whole body, as he had been taught by General Arnold, who now lay buried in a remote area, as was the custom that a great leader rests where he died in battle. The thought crossed the prince's mind that he would have no one to bury him, and would remain in this place, a carcass for the vultures, and he cried.
"Honor above life!" And he rode, ready for death.
The dragon was astonished by this irrational train of thought and the lack of respect for his own life, which had less value than some abstract honor. He decided to examine the man's face before dealing him a fatal blow. Lightly, with a half-turn, he struck the knight's helmet with his tail. The prince barely managed to control his frightened horse, steadying it, and wheeling it around. The helmet's visor cracked. To better see his opponent, he threw off the metal protection from his head and spurred the horse on for another attack.
For the first time in centuries, the dragon felt fear. The man, his reflection in the mirror of his nightmares, charged at him. Long ash-blond hair ruffled by the wind, dark blue eyes glinted fiercely from beneath thick brows, now focused on a life-or-death struggle. The face was handsome, masculine, yet still decidedly youthful and innocent. They clashed. The pike's blade scratched the chitinous armor of the thoughtful dragon, causing no harm to the attacker. Up close, Kundo saw in the knight's eyes the same purity he had glimpsed in Princess Rose's pupils. He understood that compared to the love experienced by these destined people, his love was only a filthy lust and would never return to its former self. The thought of killing a man who fought to defend such pure and innocent love filled him with self-loathing. He felt he had had enough of this animal form he had borne for centuries. Resigned to his fate, he raised his wing from the side of his heart.
Prince George desperately searched for a weak point to strike his opponent with a decisive blow, and suddenly saw him, his target, and his hope of survival. He consciously seized the opportunity, wheeled his horse once more, and at full gallop plunged his pike into the animal's armpit, all the way to the protective clasp. Only after the fatal blow did he realize that the dragon had exposed itself to his weapon.
With a flap of his wing, Kundo threw the prince from his horse, and together they tumbled to the rocky ground, crushing him beneath his weight. His armor cushioned the dragon's weight. The knight was forced to stare into eyes that were not reptilian at all, but, as he now realized, elven, bright green, their light slowly fading. Prince George couldn't bear the gaze and closed his eyelids with his free hand, as a human might before a mortal journey.
The dragon Kundo died with a smile of relief that lit up his handsome, now humanoid face. He was surprised that he had managed to neutralize such a powerful spell before his death. Why exactly, he asked himself, and left his material form...
The prince was terrified by this transformation, but also moved. He felt no joy at the victory. He recited a poem from the Book of Truth, with which the dead were bid farewell.
There is a point,
far away, infinitely,
there is the beginning of all things,
there is a place,
deep, infinitely,
there is the breath of all beings,
there is a feeling.
near infinitely
there is the beginning of all roads
you are far away
near infinitely
here is the kingdom of all solace
THIS IS YOUR EMPTINESS WITHOUT DELIRIUMS
THE END
Brak komentarzy:
Prześlij komentarz