A Selfless Sacrifice

by Paul Cude

  Pleased with himself at having ignored his friend’s specific request not to bring any part of his army, as usual, foreseeing events before they’d even happened, planning for any and every contingency, a small but insistent niggling at the back of For’son’s mind suddenly called for his attention. Not one to ignore a prompt from his consciousness, no matter how trivial, the warrior dragon flooded himself with all his supernatural power and stretched out with his senses, attuning himself to everything in the immediate vicinity.

  Abruptly a myriad of brilliant, colourful, bright life swam across his mind in every different direction. Dragonflies nestling atop long strands of grass resembled statues as they tried to remain out of sight. Fireflies zipped in and out of the reeds, their exquisite twilight colours negated by the daylight, none bothered at all by the presence of a prehistoric army suddenly turning up on their doorstep. Beneath the surface of the murky water, snapping turtles, normally not afraid of anything, due in part to their armoured shells, scattered in every direction, the commotion all too much for even them. Fish in all shapes and sizes gracefully glided off towards more peaceful parts of the quagmire, seeking solitude and safe haven. Nesting birds watched eerily on, afraid of the huge beings that they’d never even realised existed before the unfolding events of today, afraid for their lives, though determined not to abandon their precious eggs. And then there were the dragons, over five and a half thousand, their presences all standing out in his mind, each one different to the next in innumerable ways. Those on their side projected an overwhelming sense of steeliness, in the main focused, a reassuring sense of honour and their willingness to die for their monarch cutting through the darkness like a lighthouse in the most tropical of storms. In stark contrast, the auras of those on the other side were barely visible, their wills almost crushed, having been subjugated for far too long. One or two sparkled occasionally though, tiny dots of hope scrambling for something to cling on to, thoughts of reuniting with their family and a brighter future no doubt rattling through their minds. And then he caught the briefest of glimpses of it, standing on its own, the others now giving it a wide berth.

  ‘Prtzillines,’ he thought, sensing a build up within the leader that they’d tried in vain to turn to their way of thinking. Forward, progressive and sane were things he most certainly wasn’t, leading them straight down this path to the point of no return. Ignoring everything else within his sphere of influence, the king’s friend focused all his ethereal attention on the lethal leader. Bold, and particularly obvious now that he knew what to look for, the more For’son studied what was before him, the more he got a sense of something magical going on inside the adversarial dragon. Pretty sure he knew what it was, instantly he snapped his attention back to the harsh reality around them, wondering what he could do to counteract the inevitable.

  Grim thoughts gripping his mind, unable to believe that it had come to this, the concept of surrender was something his mind was ill equipped to deal with, having always used violence, even from an early age, to take what he wanted. Scared now that his wicked endeavours had finally caught up with him, all he could think to do was lash out and be damned, the consequences of such action not even occurring to him. He had after all, never thought too far ahead.

  And so in the middle of the boggy swamp, under the radiant warm rays of the blazing hot sun, anger roaring inside him like a two hundred foot raging waterfall leaping off a mountain, Prtzillines inundated himself with magic and in one final act of contempt and rage, gave in to his vicious temper.

  Fierce and loyal, the king’s dragons were ready for anything, or at least they thought they were. And despite their single-mindedness, their superior numbers and motivation to protect the monarch, they were still all very much caught unaware.

  Appearing out of nowhere, encompassing the ferocious leader’s cruel and nasty form, dazzling blue tendrils of electrical energy forked and crackled through the air, setting it, the ground all around, and those in the immediate vicinity on fire. As magic went it was spectacular, lavish, extravagant, unrestrained and wasteful. No dragon, however mighty, could fuel such power for very long, something Prtzillines knew and couldn’t have cared less about. With his former subjects scattering like chickens sensing the fox arriving at the hen house, some trying to take flight, others sprinting through the muddy water for all they were worth, the deranged dragon, feeling as though he had no other alternative, loaded himself up with magic, and in a streaking, deadly blue blur, tore across the ground towards the king, scattering and shocking the fearsome protectors in the process.

  Alert and on guard, ready for what he thought was anything, nothing could have prepared For’son for what appeared out of nowhere in front of him.

  ‘How in the...?’ was all he had time to think before all hell broke loose.

  Reacting as only he could, all the time admiring whatever supernatural hex or spell the dragon leader had conjured up in his boiling rage, the king’s friend and of course guardian reinforced every single one of his scales from the well of ethereal energy that filled his soul, and enhancing his speed with just a smidgen of power, set course to see if he could intercept the danger before it got anywhere near his friend.

  Wafting across the mire, the overpowering smell of roasted flesh (or in this case, scales) from the thousands of miniscule lightning strikes against the overwhelming dragon force had every single creature fleeing for their lives. A splashing watery chaos, the likes of which the ground there had never seen, was only really the start of things, because as you probably realise, electricity and water do not mix under any circumstances, even as far back in history as this.

  Lurching forward, the desire to protect their king engrained within them, those prehistoric monsters between him and the leader of this land leapt into action, some sprinting into the fray, others bounding into the air, skimming the surface of their watery surroundings, each with the aim of taking out the threat once and for all. But all of them were to some degree or other... WET!

  Knowing that once it got going, he’d decimate hundreds of dragons, having once destroyed a whole village who’d gone against him and had continued using the hot springs located near their settlement at the edge of his land in much the same way, so as to set an example, he had little understanding of why the magic interacted with the water in that way, only that it did and because of that he would make many of them pay. Heading straight for the king of the newcomers at speed, shocking most of those that approached him into submission with the blindingly bright, arcing lightning that hummed through the air in every direction all around him, the rapture of so much magic coursing through his veins was almost too much to take... ALMOST!

  About to get stuck in, his fiery magic lit up like the surface of the sun, it was only when he witnessed the first of the dragons freezing stock still, unable to move, in agonising pain, that he realised something was dreadfully wrong. And that led him to take an extra moment, one which could potentially lead to the king’s downfall, to assess the situation more fully. Barely able to comprehend the unusual magic he was seeing for the first time, something that in itself shocked him to his very core because he considered himself a master of all things supernatural, it was only when another nagging feeling at the back of his mind pointed him in the right direction that For’son started to get a handle on exactly what was going on.

  ‘“The water,’ he thought, taking in the effect the dragon-made lightning was having on those all around. ‘The water is what’s causing the carnage.’

  Dropping like flies (dragon flies... get it?), dozens of dragons surrounding the monarch had succumbed to the blistering electrical effects of the unrecognisable magic, some frozen solid, others slumped on the floor, their hearts stopped, their bodies still sizzling away, as Prtzillines closed in.

  Now the king was one of the mightiest warriors the world had ever known, but even he was backing away slowly, eyes wide open in surprise at what was coming for him, sloshing the water in and around his legs as he
did so.

  ‘What would it do without the water?’ was just one of the many questions ringing out in For’son’s head as he watched impending doom approach, but it was probably the most important one. Knowing that he had to act quickly, the importance of what he would do not lost on him at all, especially not with his friend’s life on the line, the brave and fearsome warrior gambled on a strategy that may or may not save the life of his elected ruler. Mind set on a course of action, without hesitation he whirled into action, knowing full well that what he’d decided on might not work. It was a guess, that’s all, but an educated one. And so, whispering the words of a mantra he’d chosen in his mind, and more importantly putting all his considerable willpower behind them, he allowed his magic to work its... MAGIC, and waited to see if his gamble paid off.

  Both frightening and majestic, dragons had ruled the earth for as long as time could remember, and despite getting on a bit, occasionally walking into a room and forgetting the reason why, Time did for the most part have excellent recall.

  Roaming the globe in all different shapes, sizes and colours, the prehistoric scaled goliaths remain the planet’s apex predator no matter what the continent. Take China for example. The dragons there are more serpent-like creatures, with long elongated bodies, multi-hued limbs and have a capacity to control the rain with ancient magic passed down through the generations, most with either small wings or none at all, preferring instead to stay firmly attached to the ground. Still, they are top of the food chain. Across Korea, long bearded dragons fly freely, claims of omnipotence abound derived from their particular brand of supernatural, devouring everything in their way, nothing big enough to pose even a minute threat.

  Throughout the waters surrounding both Northern and Southern poles, grandiose water dragons surf the white crested waves, delve deep underwater, hunkering down under the ice.

  Across Europe and Scandinavia more conventional dragons wander the land, including the geothermal underground, and meander through the sky, feasting on flocks of sheep and cattle at will, generally ignoring the savage bipeds that know little of how to cover themselves up, or even the rudimentary skill of making fire.

  All of them have one thing in common... MAGIC! Born with it, an ethereal spark passed on from generation to generation, those few atoms that reside inside their eggs before they are hatched are enough to cascade into powerful brilliance much later on in life, and combined with just enough education about how to harness it effectively and how best to channel it efficiently, have led to a race of beings that, between them, nearly rule the world. Over time, mantras, or spells and hexes if you prefer to use the other terms, have come into being, passed down, recorded, there for all to learn, enhancing abilities, squeezing out every last drop of magic, making it as potent as possible. There are a few other races that come close to matching the outright might and supernatural power of the dragons... the basiliks, the nagas, the manticores, the heretics of Antar, the hydra, and the unicorn lookalikes the ra-hoon, but the magic of all these beings is not nearly as ancient or potent. And so for the most part, dragons rule. If there’s a part of the world they aren’t in charge of, it’s because they don’t want it, very much like the Poles previously mentioned. There the environments are so cold, no dragon could survive even with their powerful magic, and so they don’t rule there, not yet anyway, leaving the way free for the hydra and the nagas to duke it out. Every other temperate part of the planet is theirs though apart from a couple. If events today could be turned around, and this land brought under the flag of the king and his domain, there would be only one outstanding realm left resisting the rule of democracy and the will of the dragons... Ahrensburg!

  It happened in a split second, and felt like the exact opposite of... RAIN! The water on the ground, amongst the grass, soaking beings in a radius of fifty wingspans all of a sudden took off into the air in the form of tiny droplets. An upside down deluge if you like. As the moments ticked by, every last molecule of moisture leapt skyward, drying out everything, the world’s first magical tumble dryer. As a hot arid heat clenched its fist around For’son, Prtzillines, the king and the rest of his army, mouths ran dry, scales became less supple, all against the backdrop of the thunderous roar of the dazzling forked lightning that had by now become much less forceful and effective. Yes, it burnt deep into the surrounding dragon’s bodies, scorching scales, inflicting excruciating pain, throwing some of them off their feet, ripping and tearing wings, drilling holes through sinew and muscle. But in the dry, arid, moisture free environment, what it didn’t do was electrocute. And that was enough for a brave dragon like For’son to act. So he did, with all of his ability.

  Conjuring up an almighty gust of wind, he threw it against the lightning shrouded monster that still headed towards the king. Caught off guard, the dreaded leader of this land, inflictor of pain and suffering since long ago had his feet taken out from under him, his wings of little use due to the unsuspecting nature of the attack. Dumped unceremoniously to the ground, in two bounds the king’s protector and friend was upon the hell bent Prtzillines, pummelling his head with a flurry of magically imbued punches, bright green viscous blood teeming from his battered knuckles, all the time roaring a blistering cone of flame into the monster’s face, while absorbing the bone crunching lightning strikes that gnawed and nibbled at every part of his body. Moments later it was over, the sadistic dark dragon put out of his misery for good, his skull fully charred, burnt to a cinder, the flickering bolts of harsh electricity being absorbed by the smoky sweltering air. Only then did it occur to the hero of the hour, the defeater of the dark, that other beings there were suffering.

  With all the moisture gone, and the ground all around them having run dry, fish and other aquatic life gulped and gasped, desperate for the very life force that allowed them to exist. Two words... that’s all it took to bring forth a deluge of epic proportions, flooding just the area that had been affected, that and no more. Cooling burnt and scorched scales, the supernatural rain was something of a relief to all those affected by the suicidal attack from the former leader of this land.

  Momentarily stunned at the close shave he’d just avoided, opening up his mind, the dragon king reached out using his innate telepathic ability and ordered those healers within his army to get straight to work, reminding them to not only care for their own, but those from what had been the other side, making sure they got the treatment they needed.

  Strolling casually over to his friend, who was now, much like some of the other dragons, rolling himself in the thick clear water that he’d brought down from the sky, the monarch of the world and now conqueror of this land pulled up short, smiling at the sight in front of him.

  “Your default position always seems to be needing a bath. Why is that?”

  “Perhaps sire, because I do all your dirty work for you,” replied For’son playfully.

  “Smart arse!”

  “I cannot deny it, Majesty,” replied the king’s friend, rising to his feet, shaking off the water much in the same way a shaggy dog would do after a dip in the sea.

  “That was an extraordinary show of power,” observed the king. “Thoughts?”

  “Hmmm...” considered For’son carefully. “If I had to guess, I’d say it mimicked lightning right down to its very base structure. How he achieved such a thing though, is quite beyond me.”

  Nodding ever so slightly, the king looked perplexed and sad in equal measure.

  “But now that we know what can be conjured into existence, there’s no reason not try and replicate it. And perhaps some of our newly gained allies can give us a head start in that direction.”

  “Good thinking,” added the king. “If we can somehow reproduce exactly the power that he had, we could document it, and hopefully create a series of mantras for future generations. That would be something worthwhile working towards.”

  “Agreed sire,” replied For’son, much more formal now that other dragons were milling about. “I’ll take a portion
of the army and escort our new friends back to their capital and set about repairing the damage done by that psychopath,” he said, indicating the now deceased dragon leader, floating face up in the watery ground.

  “Good,” replied the king. “I’ve already ordered the diplomats and politicians to head that way in an effort to smooth things over, appoint a new leader and start the clean up. All things being equal, they should arrive at about the same time as you. And as if you need telling, don’t forget to check out their library, should they have one. That might give us a clue about how he brought forth the lightning and offer up an insight into any other surprising magic that they have access to. Once again, you’ve done great work, if not a little unconventional at times. I will remind you as I always do on these occasions... I don’t like being kept in the dark!”

  “You say that,” whispered For’son conspiratorially, “but you know you love it really and can’t wait to see what the surprise will be. Admit it... it all adds to the thrill.”

  ‘Damn!’ thought the king, ‘he knows me too well.’

  “You might be right,” the monarch whispered back, “but just occasionally it would be nice to be assured victory in advance and not go through all that squeaky bum time. And next time,” he commanded, “make sure you’re the bait!”

  Standing in the middle of the swamp, nearly up to his knees in water, the wildlife having all disappeared off in every direction, the king’s friend started off with a chuckle, which almost immediately turned into a giggle, soon becoming a guffaw, after which uncontrollable hysterics took over, attracting the attention of every dragon there, much to their bemusement.

  “You’re quite insane. Sometimes I’m still not sure why I keep you around,” the king leaned in and said. “What is it that’s so funny?”

  “A... squeaky royal bum,” sniggered For’son, “that’s a picture I won’t be able to erase from my mind in a hurry.”