by M. M. Whan
Given the approximate weight of the titanic beast, Eferath figured the wings were nothing more than an afterthought by whatever God had created this beast. As if the God said “Ah to hell with it. Might as well.” Eferath had recognized the beast as a Stone Wyrm, and a particularly ancient one at that, judging by the number of silver and gold vein-like streaks that ran all alone its body. A part of the dragon family this beast may be, Eferath thought, but Stone Wyrm’s were far too heavy to be able to fly.
Not that that fact gave him any comfort, unfortunately. Eferath needed to take only a brief look at the creature to see that it did not need to fly at all to be deadly.
The beast swung its massive head around, settling it on Eferath as another growl rumbled through the ground. For a moment, Eferath thought his heart had stopped beating, so fearsome was this beast! Eferath knew that they needed to run with all speed, as far away from this place as possible. Even with a small army, Eferath knew that this beast would be beyond any of them.
Without a wasted moment, both archers let fly, sending arrows whistling toward the massive beast. It was so large, even an amateur couldn’t miss it.
Eferath’s shout of “NO!” Was too late and he could only look on as both arrows skipped off the stone-like hide of its face and the beast seemed not to notice. Another earth-shaking growl nearly caused Eferath to lose his footing, even as the wyrm’s maw opened wide, and out bellowed another thunderous roar.
Then it charged.
* * * *
Syline stopped dead in her tracks the moment she heard the terrible roar even as far away as she was. The intensity and ferocity of such a sound filled her heart with dread, and her mind drifted back to the time she had faced the beast. She could only imagine what horrible things were happening. She took off as fast as her powerful legs could carry her in the direction of the wyrm’s lair. As much as she did not want to see that one’s lair again, she could not deny her obligations to Dorien to make sure this patrol did not return to tell of what had happened here.
* * * *
The stone wyrm charged, looking very lizard-like in its four-legged gallop. Eferath turned to regard his men, then drew his sword.
“Get the hell out of here!” He shouted, even as his archers sent another volley. There was a pair of sharp cracks! as the arrows struck the beast in the head, and shattered into a thousand pieces.
“Get as far away as you can!” He roared. “GO!” His men stared at him incredulously, loyal to a one, none of them willing to disobey their captain.
“That’s an order!” He yelled as loud as he could, he had to just to be heard over the thunderous footfalls of the massive evil wyrm. Before anything else could be said, Eferath turned and charged head on.
Eferath could hear his men screaming at him from behind as if they thought he were going to take on the beast from the front.
Nothing could have been further from the truth.
Just as the stone wyrm reared its head to strike, Eferath dived into a forward roll just as the beasts’ deadly maw snapped closed right behind him. He timed his roll perfectly, coming out of it between the wyrms fore legs. He quickly twisted around onto his back as he thrust his sword hard for the creature’s exposed belly.
He might have had better luck skewering solid stone.
Despite the complete failure to do anything more than tickle its hide, Eferath did manage to scoot out from under it before it brought its massive bulk down in attempt to crush him. Only now did his men finally heed his order. All he had to do was distract the wyrm long enough for them to get to safety.
Eferath scrambled to his feet, trying his best to ignore the sudden, agonizing wave of pain that washed over him from his wounds. He brought his blade down again and again against the creature’s right foreleg. Sparks flew as the metal struck the stone-like skin again and again, chipping off small chunks but doing little else. Before he could even begin to make any progress, he was suddenly airborne as the beast’s tail came whipping around to swat him like he were nothing more than a pesky fly. Eferath flew over a dozen feet before landing hard on his back and skidded to a stop.
The air was blasted out of his lungs the moment he impacted on the stone ground. He gasped for breath that would not come and tried to shake away the spots that danced in front of his vision. Eferath felt a sudden urge to roll to one side and, not one to ignore his instincts, he complied, rolling to the left just as the wyrm’s massive tail crashed to the ground where had had been just a moment before. Eferath cringed as the tail crashed hard into the stone, and did not doubt that there would be several cracks there.
Eferath scrambled to his feet, his legs weak and shaky beneath his weight. The stone wyrm spun on him and growled, but before it charged it turned its head, attracted to the movement as Eferath’s patrol made their escape. The young man took the opportunity to launch into a hasty cast. He traced the arcane runes in the air in front of them as quickly as he dared. He had no time to lose; if it took him too long to cast, his men would die. If he missed, his men would die.
Just as the beast opened its great maw to roar, Eferath released his spell. There was a bright flash, and a terrific crack of thunder as a lightning bolt lanced out from his outstretched palms. The bolt was perfectly aimed, and it slammed home in the creature’s chest right where the heart should be. The force of the blow made the wyrm groan and stagger to the side a few steps. It recovered quickly, though and brought its huge maw down to snap at Eferath. Luckily, the young man was able to dive forward into a roll and came up swinging. He hacked away at the joint of its right foreleg, at the weak point his blade had made in its armour previously.
The wyrm gave a great, pitiful wail as Eferath’s blade finally bit into its flesh. It reared up onto its hind legs, its roar powerful enough to make the ground shake. While it was on its hind-legs, Eferath noticed the spot where his lightning bolt had struck. The spell had blasted away a sizeable chunk of its stone-like armour, roughly the size of a dinner plate.
When the beast crashed back down, it nearly toppled as its right foreleg threatened to give out under the beast’s incredible weight. Eferath, not one to ignore an opportunity, dashed forward sword leading, aiming for the weak spot his spell had created. Eferath knew better than to think he could actually hurt the powerful creature through any combination of hits, but he had to try something, anything to keep the wretched creature’s attention long enough for his men to make their escape. He realized a moment later that he needed to concentrate on his own survival as well, or he would be dead too fast to make a difference.
Almost as if the creature read his mind, it snapped its neck taught, launching its head down so fast Eferath could only react upon instinct, and very nearly got caught in its teeth. Eferath dived into a sideways roll to barely avoid the stone wyrms’ maw as it snapped shut a hairs breadth away. He exited the roll into the kneeling position, but with his sword arm facing away from the creature as it flicked its tongue out of its mouth at him like a snake. He was well aware of the danger the stone wyrms’ tongue held for him. The surface was covered with razor edged barbs that could pierce armour, and strip the flesh off bone without resistance. Though he was off balance, Eferath was able to raise his blade just enough to deflect the darting tongue far enough to the side to narrowly avoid a direct hit.
The maneuver did not come without a cost, though, and he received a very nasty gash on his left side, warm blood wasting no time in pouring from the wound and soaking his leg. Before it was able to retract its tongue, Eferath used what little energy he could muster to bring his sword around as hard as he could, connecting solidly on the barbed tongue. Dulled from whacking away at stone as his sword was, the force of the blow nearly severed the wyrm’s tongue.
How the beast howled!
The stone wyrm reared up onto its hind legs again and let out a roar so loud Eferath feared that his ears would burst. The young man’s vision was beginning to blur and darken as if he were backing in
to a tunnel. He suddenly felt very weak and numb all over, almost as if he were floating. He was distantly aware of the sound of a metallic clang as his sword fell from his grip to the ground. With his eyes darkening around his vision, Eferath also noticed the beast rearing its great head in preparation for the killing strike.
A killing strike that never came.
Denara, seeing her dear friend Eferath in trouble, charged the beast screaming at the top of her lungs, sword held high above her head. When at first it seemed as though the stone wyrm wouldn’t heed her approach, the half-elf conjured a ball of flame and threw it right into the beast’s wide-open maw. It detonated with a great gout of flame and roiling black smoke. The gigantic wyrm tossed its head back and forth, enraged. Its white glowing eyes settled upon the perpetrator, and the stone wyrm lunged its head forward, with speed that would have made a pit-viper’s strike seem slow by comparison. Denara made to dive to the side but was not fast enough and was caught in the beast’s terrible jaws.
Her screams of agony echoed off the rock walls, and echoed within Eferath’s mind. The screams woke him from his lethargy, and Eferath reacted. He plucked his blade from the ground and lunged forward, plunging his sword deep into the monster’s chest. Unfortunately, he hadn’t softened the hide enough for his sword to slide in deep enough to puncture the heart, and it stopped several inches short of the mark. The wyrm gave a great roar, and trampled around in a fit of rage and pain, knocking Eferath from his feet. It was only then did he notice Denara’s bloodied form draped over its lower jaw. With a mighty sweep of its great head, the beast threw Denara thirty feet to crash into the side of the cliff face next to the cave. Eferath watched her limp, crumpled form fall to the ground.
“NOOOOO!” Eferath screamed until his voice was hoarse. He felt tears fill his eyes and a deep ache in his chest. He wanted desperately to go to her to see if she was all right, even though his sight, and his heart told him she wasn’t.
The wyrm stumbled and spun around in a flurry of legs and tail, and it was a miracle in itself that Eferath wasn’t squashed flat in the tempest. He didn’t have enough time to realize just how much trouble he was in due to the sudden need to duck under the swiping claws of the wyrm. It was so close, Eferath could feel the wind off the near miss, and his imagination showed him an image of what would have happened to his head had he not ducked.
Needless to say, it wasn’t a good image.
Eferath searched all around him, looking for anything he might be able to use to escape from the creature. Once it got over the pain, and remembered who caused the pain, Eferath was certain the monster would be ready to enact retribution.
His salvation came a moment later in the form of a large, flat boulder that was propped up on other smaller rocks at a forty-five-degree angle. It was roughly thirty-feet high at the top, and Eferath thought that if he could just get behind it, he might have a chance. And so, he ran full bent toward the boulder as fast as his numb, wobbly legs could go. Almost as if the wyrm discovered what he was up to, it gave a bone rattling roar, and immediately gave chase. Every one of the beast’s footfalls shook the stone ground beneath his feet making it difficult for him to keep his balance.
His lungs felt as if they were on fire, and his legs felt as though they would give out from under him at any moment. But he ran on because his very life depending on it.
Twenty feet away. The thunderous footfalls sounded, as well as felt closer.
Ten feet away. Eferath thought he could feel the hot breath of the creature wash over his body.
The pile of stones seemed to jump and rattle as Eferath drew to less than five feet away.
Miraculously, Eferath reached the boulder first and used his built-up momentum to vault himself over the flat, angular surface just in the nick of time. The furious stone wyrm crashed into the rock with such force that it pulverized the six-foot-thick slab.
Eferath felt himself flying a moment after the hearing the terrific impact of the wyrm slamming into the stone slab. The world around him was a complete blur. His flight was short lived, however, and Eferath slammed into the rock wall next to the path from which he and his patrol had come, and fell into a heap. He knew there was nothing he could do; his body simply refused to do his bidding.
He felt cold all over. And as darkness closed around his vision, Eferath finally gave in to the warmth that was the darkness.
Chapter 10
SYLINE WATCHED WITH QUIET ASTONISHMENT as the young soldier battled the wyrm practically toe to toe, hacking and slashing at its stone-like hide. As she watched him, she was surprised to realize that she was gripping the soft grass with both hands in anticipation. This young fighter was actually holding his own against a creature that had claimed the lives of hundreds of would-be adventurers!
But it was impossible! Eferath was supposed to be where Edward had been killed! Even as the thought went through her mind, Syline knew the answer. Dorien had stated that Edward’s patrol was to go to the clearing where Eferath had been because the ambush at least allowed for Edward to retreat. There was only one other person present at that conversation with her and Dorien, and it was Bergen Swyftblade. She made a mental note to have a conversation with him when she returned to the city. But for now, she was enjoying the show.
Syline cringed reflexively as Eferath narrowly escaped being caught between the beast’s teeth. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and she couldn’t help but gasp a moment later when Eferath was clipped by the creature’s barbed tongue. She thought that was it for him, that this young, skilled soldier was finished. Part of her was relieved; any fighter that could survive for more than a minute with a creature the likes of a stone wyrm she did not want to face as an enemy. It was at that moment she couldn’t help but wonder whether or not she defeated him in their duel with skill, or by some stroke of luck.
The other part of her couldn’t help but feel dread at the possibility of losing this spectacular young human. That feeling in particular was what surprised her the most. She watched, riveted as Eferath suddenly stopped moving, and the half-elf’s keen eyes spotted the blood that was pouring down his leg. Rugarkavatimilian reared its enormous head in preparation to attack when one of Eferath’s soldiers - a woman - charged the beast with abandon. Syline nearly whooped with excitement as the woman’s fireball exploded in the wyrm’s mouth, and gasped as the wyrm snapped its head forward with fantastic speed, catching the young woman in its jaws as she tried to dodge.
Eferath’s agonized scream tore at Syline’s heart, and the half-elf had to blink away tears. She gave her head a shake. She was here for one reason, and one reason only.
Syline looked on, mouth agape as the young man began running away, the wyrm giving chase. This was the moment, she knew, that Eferath would meet his end. Her eyes never looked at anything but the young man though the stone wyrm was a much more frightening and awe-inspiring sight.
She watched as Eferath ran up the slab of rock, planted his hands, and vaulted over to the other side just as the beast crashed into the stone, blasting it into a thousand pieces. The impact was so violent, Syline had to duck and cover her head from the shower of stones.
Several minutes had passed before the half-elf dared look up at the battle field. Everything was quiet and motionless as if captured in an artist’s painting. Eferath lay propped up against the cliff face, his eyes were closed and he lay very still. From her distance, even her keen eyes could not tell whether his chest rose and fell with each breath.
With a resigned sigh, she produced a small stone from a pocket in her tunic. The stone was a smoke-gray colour with an arcane rune engraved into its surface. It was polished and very smooth, with rounded edges and was the size of her palm. It was designed for a single purpose: The stone would immediately teleport her or “recall” her to the destination weaved into the magic. It was commonly referred to as a “recall rune” and it was given to her by Lethaniel so she could instantly return to the Academy to repo
rt her findings.
Just as Syline was about to use the stone, Eferath began to move.
* * * *
Eferath awoke slowly, groggily. His body throbbed as his many injuries all competed to see which could hurt the most. At the moment, the decision of which took the prize would have to go to a panel of judges. He opened his eyes tentatively, his mind completely blank as he tried to remember what had happened to him that put him in so much pain. He groaned as he struggled to raise himself up to his feet. It wasn’t until his eyes finally settled on the massive corpse of the stone wyrm did it all come flooding back. His heart pounded hard in his chest as he stared at the glossy, onyx hide of the creature that should have killed him.
“I should not have survived that.” Eferath said aloud to himself. Clutching at the gash on his side from the monster’s wicked tongue, the young man staggered forward. As he drew closer to the beast, he caught a glimpse of metal contrasting to the black hide. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to him that the creature had impaled its own heart with his blade when it collided with the stone. But the sword had barely survived the impact. It was bent, twisted, and warped out of shape to the point where it was no more useful than a lead paper weight. “So much for that sword.” Eferath said ruefully.
A sudden memory struck him as profoundly as any slap might - the memory of Denara’s limp form crashing into the rock wall.
“Denara!” Eferath shouted, looking around until he saw her laying near the mouth of the cave in a pool of blood, unmoving. Using strength he didn’t know he had, Eferath ran over to her. He skidded to a stop on his knees as he got close and positioned his ear above her bloodied mouth.
She was still breathing!
“Medic!” Eferath screamed, his voice hoarse. He gently cradled Denara’s head in his lap, staring down at her beautiful face. Eferath could hear the sound of footsteps as his men rushed over. Denara’s eyes fluttered open before closing again, then opened once more half-lidded.
