As Oskar fled through the forest, the dragon followed.

Oskar had covered his companions’ retreat, antagonizing the ancient silver dragon as they ran. He held out for as long as he could before tossing his war hammer over his back and following. He had wanted to give his friends as much of a lead as possible, since they were injured, and carrying their unconscious healer. They had disappeared into the treeline about two minutes earlier, but Oskar wasn’t worried about losing them.

As he broke through the overgrowth at the edge of the forest, Oskar could easily see the way ahead in shades of grey, seemingly as bright as day. The underbrush was thin here under the canopy, and he knew he could make good use of his favorite spell.

He raised his hands and began the casting as the dragon’s head burst through the trees behind him, her spread wings holding her back from coming through. He spun around as she roared, rearing back and blasting him with her frozen breath, tiny shards of ice ripping through his exposed skin and ricocheting off his armor.

Well, shit.

Oskar knew that a silver dragon was able to freeze solid any creature with its icy breath. He could feel hot blood flowing from the slices in his cheeks, over his cold skin and back into his hair as the arctic air continued to blast around him, and was once again grateful to his magical bloodline, and the immunity to cold that it granted him.

He could still feel the cold though, and it was damn uncomfortable. Oskar closed his eyes, praying to Moridan that he wouldn’t start shivering and flub the hand motions required to make the spell work. As the cold air tore around him, he finished the incantation, feeling swiftness take him as his surroundings seemed to slow. He spun away, opening his eyes and darting forward with a speed even the great dragon couldn’t hope to match.

Shame it only lasts a few seconds. Make the most of it, lad!

The dragon screamed again behind him, somehow seeming to be even more enraged than before. Oskar tried to run faster. The energy coursing through him propelled him a dozen yards with every step. Only years of practice running at this speed kept him from colliding with trees in his path.

The forest blurred past him, whipping by too quickly to really see. He’d told his companions to go east, and he tried to maintain a direct path, but he thought he was veering a bit too far left. He corrected his course just as the spell’s power started to fade. He began to slow his steps, a second or two before he lost the speed entirely. He managed to not flip end over end as the energy dissipated from his limbs.

Sudden figures looming out of the darkness in a pool of torchlight at the edge of his vision grew rapidly larger as he approached, slowing himself drastically to a jog as he traversed the final few yards, arms out as he fought to maintain his balance. He averted his gaze from the torch to avoid going blind on the approach, then looked up again as the magical darkvision faded.

The two people in front of him had turned before they even came into his field of view as he crashed through the underbrush. Amnestria had drawn her bow and was holding it with arrow nocked, aimed over his shoulder, eyes tracking back and forth through the treeline.

The blood covering Amnestria’s face was prominent on her cheeks in the torchlight, making her golden hair appear to glow crimson. He could see her trembling as she held the bow ready.

Halting just in front of his companions, Oskar turned, but there was nothing behind him save for the distant sounds of a pissed off dragon. Crashing sounds growing steadily closer indicated that the dragon wasn’t giving up the chase just yet.

“We need to keep moving,” Amnestria panted, lowering her bow. “Maybe she’ll give up-”

“She won’t,” Oskar broke in. He immediately moved over to inspect the dwarf thrown over the shoulder of the human who had accompanied the three of them into the dragon’s domain. Still unconscious, but breathing alright, and his heartbeat was strong. Oskar settled his hide armor – disarranged after his run through the underbrush – and then took Marent gently from Rando, who sighed in relief. Marent was not a light load. “There’s something wrong wi’ her. Did you no see the patches on her scales?”

“I saw…” Amnestria paused as she continued to watch their backtrail, her dark green leathers almost disappearing against the foliage behind her. “Something. Near her wing joints. Dull patches with black streaks. And she wasn’t silver anymore, like she was turning grey.”

“Aye, might be she’s diseased. If she’s caught something, it’d explain the erratic behavior.”

“Right.” Amnestria had driven her torch into the ground to free her hands. Now that Oskar had arrived, she snuffed it, plunging them into near total darkness. The forest returned to shades of grey, for Oskar at least.

“What are you doing?” Rando clutched his injured arm to his side. As a human, he was blind in the darkness. Oskar was human too, but was lucky enough to wear a brooch of darkvision, allowing him to see in complete blackness. Amnestria couldn’t see as well as Oskar, but as long as there was a bit of starlight filtering through the trees, she could keep her bearings.

“Just stick close behind Oskar,” Amnestria said, walking backwards away from the sound of trees splintering. The two of them were still tired, but the short rest had eased their breathing slightly. Amnestria tucked her bow back into its spot on her back, taking Rando by the shoulder and turning him in the right direction. “He’ll lead us safely, and I’ll keep you on course if you start to stray. Trust us."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Rando looked unsure, but since he didn’t really have a choice, conceded. Oskar gently settled Marent more securely, then took off at a jog, keeping his pace deliberately slow.

~~

Oskar trusted Ness to keep watch behind them, listening with her sensitive hearing, as he led them through the forest. The dragon grew ever closer as they ran, and Oskar tried veering sharply, hoping that the crazed beast wouldn’t catch on, but no such luck. He was starting to tire, and the others were in much worse shape. As they ran on, Oskar had needed to slow even more to avoid outpacing them.

Amnestria panted as she staggered forward. “So – pissed her off – pretty good?”

“You know me too well, lass,” Oskar replied distractedly as he carefully watched the path in front of him, leading the group around an uneven patch of ground. “Can you no hide our backtrail? She’ll be on us in just a wee bit at this rate.”

“I can’t – without slowing down – so much – she’d catch me.” Even Amnestria’s elven heritage was no match for an extended battle and a five-mile run through the woods. “We need – distraction.”

The three of them ran on through the dark, Oskar estimating that they had only a few minutes before the dragon caught up to them. He turned, peering over the shoulder not occupied by Marent. Ness was flagging, staggering in a jerking back and forth path as she stubbornly trailed behind. Rando was bent over, his dark hair hanging in his face as he stumbled along clutching the strap of his lute. Both were heaving for air. Even Oskar’s breathing was coming hard; the belt he wore to increase his stamina could only do so much.

This was no good. They were too hurt to fight; only Oskar had escaped serious injury back at the dragon’s lair. The others would be next to useless in a battle right now, distractions he couldn’t afford. He didn’t have a choice. They broke into a large clearing in the forest, and Oskar slowed, calling a halt.

“Right then, here’s the plan.” Oskar turned to look back as he spoke. The crashing sounds of the dragon was close. Very close. “Neither of you can help me here. you need to take Marent and go.”

“Alright,” Amnestria panted. “We’ll hide him behind – bush or something. Then set up – in the trees. Ambush. Rando, can you throw – your daggers left-handed? We’ll need to-”

“No, lass,” Oskar broke in firmly, walking back to her. “Ye need to go. I’ll give you as much time as I can, then catch up again. Head to the south, try to find that lake we camped at last night. If I canna catch you up in a wee bit, I’ll find you there.”

“Oskar – fucking dammit! No way – letting you-”

“Ness. There’s no other way.” Oskar kept his voice low, speaking only to her. “Look at the situation, tell me what other options we have!”

Amnestria gazed up at his face, half blind in the darkness. Oskar could see the tears brimming, but she refused to let them fall. She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Keep her occupied. Do NOT engage. Use the trees for cover. Run if you get in a tight spot. That’s an order!” She gave the orders firmly, staring into his eyes as if to drive them into his memory. She looked around helplessly, as if searching for some excuse to stay. “You’ve got another – casting of Sprint?”

“Aye lass, been savin’ it for a rainy day,” Oskar said, putting a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. He didn’t plan to use the spell, however, but it was better to reassure his friend at the moment. “Take care of him. I’ll see you soon.”

She nodded, lowering her head as he turned away. He moved over to Rando, who sighed in acceptance. The Bard held a hand up though, and began casting a simple spell.

Oskar was always intrigued when the bard worked magic; he sang this spell as if it was a short little song, not requiring any hand motions beyond gesturing at Oskar. He could feel the effects as they began coursing through his body, and could guess at what this spell would help him to do.

Rando then moved forward, wordlessly taking the unconscious dwarf from Oskar. As he settled Marent onto Rando’s shoulder, Oskar moved around behind the man, brushing blood encrusted braids away and laying a hand gently on Marent’s cheek.

“Bi sàbhailte, mo chridhe1,” Oskar murmured in Dwarven, stepping back and reaching for his hammer. “Go now,” he said in common. “I’ll try to lead her north for a bit. Run!”

He turned, facing back, as the dragon’s silver hide began to peek through the thick branches. He watched the others as they pushed through the heavy bushes, making their way south. He gazed after them for a moment, catching a last glimpse of Marent’s still form as the branches closed behind them. Oskar turned, taking a deep breath.

The dragon burst through the trees, roaring as she spotted him. She surged upwards onto her hind legs, roaring again as she glared at him in a crazed fury. Oskar could see the injuries on her hide that they’d dealt earlier, unnatural black flesh showing through where her scales had been knocked off, and black blood clotting the wounds. This dragon was most assuredly diseased, and Oskar worried suddenly about contracting the illness.

I must not fail.

Oskar felt the prickling sensation at the backs of his eyes as he imagined his friends run to the ground, without even the breath left to scream. His breathing came faster, his hands tightened painfully on the handle of his hammer. He let the rage take him, propelling him into a focused battle fury.

Chains suddenly burst from his flesh at shoulder and hip. Spiked, oily, and cold as the sea, the chains whipped their way down the length of his arms and legs, and around his torso, ends left to flail randomly. The grey and white forest took on a reddish tint as the blood began to fill his eyes. He screamed in joyful fury as strength began to rush through him, and he used the power of the emotions to cast a spell, foregoing the usual motions and words. As the chains settled themselves into place, he felt the spell complete, and his flesh became harder, more resistant to injury.

The dragon looked down as he screamed, blinking in surprise as she beheld the strange, snarling creature wrapped in flailing chains before her. Her eyes focused on him as she dropped down to all fours, and her jaws opened for another roar.

“RUITH!2” Oskar screamed in Dwarven as he ran towards the gaping maw, hammer raised.

1 Be safe, my heart.

2 RUN!