Not even five minutes had passed since I sped away from the stable when I began hearing the sound of numerous footsteps approaching in the distance. My mind filled with uncertainty as I couldn't grasp what was happening. Despite the confusion, I sprinted with my new legs, exerting myself to the fullest to escape that place.
While fleeing at full speed, several thoughts crossed my mind. The first idea that emerged, though absurd, was that I had turned into a giraffe due to the long neck. However, inspecting my feet revealed a different reality: they were dark and scaly. Thanks to my unusually long neck, I could observe myself a bit better from behind, and my amazement grew upon discovering a long back that ended in a large tail. Initially, I mistakenly considered it to be a third arm, failing to realize that the two extra arms unfolding on my back were two broad wings, as black as the rest of my scaly body. My next conjecture pointed toward a giant lizard with the ability to fly, which strangely wasn't far from the truth.
Desperate, I tried to use my two arms, or rather, wings. I flapped them up and down and leaped in an effort to gain altitude, but nothing seemed to work. In the distance, I could already make out the pursuers, who turned out to be soldiers on horseback approaching rapidly; the situation was becoming increasingly distressing. I couldn't see a clear escape route, and my only desire was to return home to reassure my parents. How had I found myself in this situation, transformed into a lizard?
Although constant reflection and questioning are fundamental parts of my philosophical upbringing, this wasn't the time or place to delve into deep thoughts. While my identity and purpose here remained shrouded in mystery, the only certainty I truly had was my desire to leave the place unharmed and safe. That was enough for now.
Apparently, they didn't intend to harm me; they were only trying to capture me, as despite riding with weapons in hand, not a single shot was fired in my direction. I kept galloping, hoping for the best and relying on the hope that I would soon reach a forest if I continued in the same direction. I was grateful for my keen vision, which allowed me to see beyond the horizon, quite literally speaking.
In a twist of events, a deep voice shouted, "Fire!" and everyone began aiming their strange rifles at me, their tips soon lighting up, filling the silent valley with noisy explosions. Although the distance between us was still quite considerable, the bullets were closing that gap. The shots were aimed at my legs and wings, clearly attempting to immobilize me, suggesting they only wanted to capture me.
The scales covering my body cushioned the shots. The bullets ricocheted with a sharp sound upon impact and flew off in all directions; some hit the horses, while others disappeared into the valley. Realizing that the shots were ineffective and, instead, causing casualties among their own ranks, the mustached man with the deep voice shouted, "Cease fire! Magic snipers, prepare! Fire!"
Magic? Truth be told, at this point, nothing surprised me anymore. The cannons, previously illuminated by fire colors, now danced in RGB scales, where dark purple predominated. The shots in green were the most potent, causing explosions upon hitting a surface. Luckily, there were no more than five with that color. In comparison to the hundred horseback soldiers, they were few, as most of the shots were purple and blue, colors that barely tickled when they hit my jet-black scale armor.
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However, something astonishing was about to happen, something that would take us all by surprise, including me. Finally, I was managing to lift off the ground, as if the long journey was a takeoff runway; I hovered a few inches from the ground. Though it was an exciting moment, I couldn't afford to relax as I still had to leave the pursuers behind. Besides, now that I was in the air, I had lost the speed I had before, and the cavalry was getting closer. It shouldn't be overlooked that in the air, I was a perfect target, a black mass like a cloud.
"They're shooting at us!"
In a third twist of events, someone had started shooting at the cavalry. Thanks to the confusion, I managed to elevate myself enough to distance myself, not only in distance but also in height. My wings were on autopilot, as if blinking or breathing; thanks to nature, they knew exactly what to do, and I just had to set the direction I wanted to fly.
"grmg grrrr mmm," I roared in happiness.
The cavalry began to disperse by orders of their officer, trying to avoid the shooter who lurked on the plain, where they lacked cover. For my good luck, someone was shooting at them, giving me the chance to learn to fly. Until that moment, my progress was slow, barely staying airborne, but gradually gaining skill, letting nature and its evolution do their work for me. Though chaos reigned, more than one didn't miss the opportunity to shoot at my large body, but fortunately, the majority of shots went into the sky or bounced off.
The soldiers dropped like flies, and those who didn't fled in terror. Below, the situation became deafening due to screams of desperation. The moon, at its zenith, observed the bloody scene unfolding unperturbed.
The horses galloped in fear, throwing off their riders, who unfortunately were hit by the shots of the unknown sniper. Whatever was happening was already a thing of the past for me as I headed towards small mountains near the forest, barely able to discern their misfortunes.
The mountain became increasingly imposing as I approached, and I was uneasy about the idea that at some point, my wings might fail and make me fall. Nevertheless, I kept calm and continued forward, pushing away negative thoughts.
The temperature dropped sharply, evident though my body didn't feel it, except for my large nose, which protested when the icy wind struck it violently; it was quite bothersome.
Finally, I reached the summit and saw the sniper who had perpetrated that massacre. I called her "sniper" because she was a woman sitting on the snow, watching me approach, as impassive as the moon but undoubtedly more beautiful than it.
I landed as best I could and stood, watching her, but she didn't seem to have the intention to harm me, as she hadn't reached for her rifle resting on the ground, smoke emanating from its barrel.
"Grrr..."
I tried to communicate with her, but I forgot I couldn't speak and emitted a strange sound resembling a roar. Fortunately, she didn't seem frightened by my attempt at communication. I approached her slowly until I noticed a smell I had already perceived on the battlefield: blood.
The woman was wounded in a leg, and the bandage preventing the bleeding was completely red. She was condemned to die on the summit. However, the trail of blood on her back suggested that the wound had accompanied her when she reached the top.
"I've never failed a mission," she finally spoke, "even if it means death for me."
I approached her even closer, noticing her evident suffering due to the low temperatures. Carefully, I nestled next to her, and she settled beside me in search of warmth.
"Mission accomplished..." The woman fell unconscious.
That was the first time I met her.