in blood

Lee.

Then the world shook and my body froze, my skin felt like it was crawling, tightening as alarms rang all over my head and then, a great, deafening roar erupted from up above. “Dragon!” shouted Old Harold, sending everyone into a panic with people pushing each other out of their way, trying to make it outside—a futile attempt: dragons were destroyers and they would not leave a pebble un-singed. It seemed that Old Harold still remembered what dragon-roars sounded, although they are notoriously unforgettable... and another roar sounded, followed by another… three dragons, as if one wasn’t hard enough.

I couldn’t move, fear had taken over, I was too afraid—I knew what would happen next, I was all too familiar with it. Lola Leona was now standing together with Old Harold. They were making complex movements with their hands when the ceiling caved in from the force of a giant ball of dragon-fire—it was like an EMP for magical creatures, it stopped them from using magic—and everyone and everything was set ablaze, igniting the mana in everyone and all around. I could only watch them flail their arms, running aimlessly, burning within and burning without… I was Null, the only one alive if no-one else could attest. Dragon-fire was still magic, and magic had no effect on me. It was as if my body devoured magic. But the dragon-fire was still sufficient to have blown me away across the road, slamming me into a block of concrete that might have once supported a house. I looked around at the town and saw some artist’s representation of hell come to life.

I looked back at the restaurant burning, and then collapsing in on itself. Only I was left, kneeling amidst the destruction and the bones, clothes tattered and burnt. I felt faint heat welling up inside me, but it vanished after a while. Dragon-fire was still scattered all around in little white flames, ethereally burning, churning the ground into a muddy slush of ash and soil and rock.

Overhead, I could see dragons—more than the initial three that I had counted—circling, then breaking formation and flying off to different directions, one was coming right towards me. I gingerly prodded my face with my hand and felt blood.

I slowly stood up as the red-scaled dragon landed on all fours. Its wings spread wide—wider than the restaurant that was just destroyed—and it roared. “What trickery is this human? I smell not the stench of your foul magicks about you…” it said, its voice guttural and harsh, an indication that this was a dragon born from a small volcano, judging from its length of fifteen meters.

“Grant me your name and I will answer,” I demanded. Dragons were pretty much like anyone, they had their own values, and honor and curiosity were common ones. Luckily, the dragon-fire didn’t burn my clothes too much and I still had some of my weapons. I was told in a dream that Nulls were regarded as heroes back when the Anabasis came—they were the only natural predators of dragons, their lack of Magic was their ace against them.

The dragon stood up on its hind legs, crimson eyes locked on my figure. And just like the unhurried flow of magma, it spoke, “Taal.” It was odd that a dragon from Luzon made its way down here in Cebu, but the thought was only fleeting. “Now answer my question…” It glared at me, huffs of smoke coming out of its mouth like a fleshy, scaled, omnicidal steam train.

I paused for a bit, thinking of some way out. “I am Null…” I said with imaginary confidence. I can’t fight a dragon! It was foolhardy that I even compared myself to dragonslayers. I could throw a knife at it, but I highly doubt it would do anything, other than as a slight annoyance, thus making him far angrier—minor stuff does that to most people.

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Taal visibly flinched and looked at me with a new light. It then started moving sidewards, its obsidian claws scraping the charred, concrete causing a magical spark and wreathing its talons with magical fire. Numerous thin spines flickered up, trailing down its serpentine neck in one line, vibrating like oddly shaped maracas. “You speak in lies, human…” Its tail whipped dangerously to the right, nearly breaking a pile of still-magically burning rubble. “The unshayhum, greatest of the Old Wyrms, with the help of the unshavhithh have slaughtered every one of the vile valyinum! They no longer walk this great Earth…”

“If you have some other theory to explain what I am, I’d be obliged to listen,” I said. Where did this false bravado come from, I wonder? But I always knew it would lead to my death—some prematurely fired quip or a witty, but too honest, remark, perhaps maybe even a poorly delivered or poorly constructed joke… such endless possibilities to have thought of, and now my death, untimely or not.

“Face death, human!” The dragon stood up on its hind legs, wings spread to the limit, and craned its neck backwards. Faint lines of agitated mana were running up its neck as a ball of mana formed inside its open mouth, and it fired. A large sphere of blue flame flew its way towards me, distorting the air around it. I felt relaxed even though a fireball was coming straight at me. I felt that I had accepted my death, before I remembered that I was Null—dragon-fire this weak had no effect—and I was left standing a step back, unscathed, and again… I felt warm.

Taal stood back on its four legs. No longer was smoke trickling out of its maw. “Impossible…” it said, then the dragon leapt forward, its lumbering size belying its agility, its claws burning with ethereal fire, its leathery wings beating, and then it flew up and grabbed me with a clawed hand. “The unshavhithh shall see to your demise…” I dug my nails on the dragon’s hand, attempting to break free, but it did not care.

We were now high up above over the ravines that snaked their way through the mountains when it tightened its grip, trying to squeeze out the consciousness off me. My mind was slowly shutting down now and I was seeing fragments of the dream-space, my eyes were getting heavier. “Do not die yet, Spectre…” I heard a voice say. I jolted myself awake and I saw that my skin was now glowing, my veins seeming to burst with something primal. I took a breath through clenched teeth and felt fire flooding inside me, then with great difficulty, I took out a stiletto and, unbeknownst to me when, was engraved with some sigils that flickered into activity under the light of the Moon.

With tremendous effort, I drove the blade into its skin, and to my surprise, it bled. “Dagaithish!” screamed the dragon, Taal. I stabbed it again, before it could create a more violent reaction. My chest and abdomen were now drenched with the luminescent, also translucent, blood of the dragon, some of it made its way on my lips and, curious, I tasted it. It tasted sweet and I felt invigorated for some reason, like a deep power was going to rush out and overcome every obstacle I faced. Light erupted from my body, a small explosion blew the dragon's arm off and I was thrown down.

Together, boy and dragon spiraled downwards to a ravine.

***