A burst of flames suddenly engulfed the
dark figure. The dragon eyed lazily at what would be just a pile of ashes –
the only other thing left would be the stench of burnt flesh. To its surprise, there
he was standing untouched as the fire cleared – a blue light crackled around the
intruder. Sensing that magic was at play, the dragon took more interest now and
focused its senses on the origins.
Ah…a
ring of protection…and a powerful one too. No wonder. But no matter, thought the dragon.
The dragon’s name is Naz’garoth, one of the
great fire dragons of the realm. And like all dragons, it is a proud and powerful
creature and thinks nothing more of this fool than a fly that needs to be
swatted away. Naz’garoth shifted its body and raised its head to full height.
With a sudden move, its tail swiped out at the figure, covering the distance in
a mere second.
Something’s
not right, through the dragon. The figure has
disappeared. But even as Naz’garoth recovered from surprise, a pain lanced out
from its side – a long thin blade now lodged itself at where the wing joins the
body. It roared thunderously, shaking the grounds of the cavern – angry for
being caught unawares and wary too, realizing perhaps too late, that this was no ordinary foe.
And for the second time during his duty as the guardian of the temple, Arundal lights the torch and stands vigilant in the dead of winter. Light from the torch cast shadows around him and his dark cloak fluttered as the wind blew winter chill. But Arundal's face is a mask, expressionless, unyielding. His eyes shows a calm resolution, faith that The One will one day return to release him of his duty.
The dragon looked at the tiny figure standing in front of him. Puny human, thought the dragon. It was amused by the many ways he could snuff the life out of this insignificant being - a flick of the tail perhaps, or a gout of fire to reduce flesh and bones to ashes in mere seconds. That put a smile to its face - if one could imagine how a smiling dragon looks like.
But unknown to the mighty dragon, that is no mere mortal standing a few feet away, wrapped up in a dark cloak, with its hood down, the face barely visible. Showing neither fear nor concerns, but just stood there waiting.
Then again, a dragon is no mere mortal either...
"Even the idealist in me
blanch at the thought that this...that this was all to prepare me for
something worse to come. Why? Was this why you have made me gone through
all this?" The man looked up to the sky with only despair in his eyes. There was nothing he could do, but wail at
the heavens above for the cruelty of fate and the merciless cycle that which is
life.
