I wasn’t sure why I did it - the dragon had lied to me twice already. It had cheated in the fight, and it had eaten Caveria - why would it even come back? It was more likely to let me sit on the rock until I starved, or at least fell asleep and fell down. Despite that, I climbed up. In the rain.
It began to rain the moment I began to climb, and I straggled up the dark, wet rock blindly. It was just as well - I was crying so hard I couldn’t see much anyway. I climbed by feel, by feel and by fear and by sorrow, and felt like a complete failure.
When I reached the top I huddled down, but of course there was no shelter from the pouring rain. I would die here, either from exposure, from falling down, or from being eaten by the dragon. I cried in humiliation. I had offered it my life, and it had taken Caveria anyway. My life wasn’t worth anything, obviously. And now I sat here, waiting for it to come back. It wasn’t just Caveria who was stupid.
I don’t know how long I sat there, but it probably wasn’t as long as it felt. The clouds were so thick I had no idea where the sun was, and I was thoroughly wet and cold and beginning to think that dragon or no dragon, I wasn’t going to just sit here and wait to die. Just as I had decided I needed to get down again, somehow, the dragon came back.
It moved silently through the air, and it was almost invisible in the rain. One moment I was alone, the next a huge, hulking shadow moved in the gray mist, and then it was there. It hovered in the air before me, beating a slow, powerful rhythm with its wings.
“Peter Smith,” it said. I staggered to my feet, swaying unsteadily. I was not going to be eaten sitting down, at least.
“Dragon,” I said.
“The Pale Lady accepts your sacrifice,” it said. “She will grant your wish. She will give you your life, your suffering and your death. In the name of the Pale Lady, take the sword. Take the Dragonblade, live your life, and suffer.”
The dragon opened its mouth and uncoiled its tongue, and there, on the glistening red surface, lay - a sword. I stared at it, not understanding. The dragon closed its mouth and rumbled. “Take it,” it said. “Climb in, and take it.” It opened its mouth again.
Climb into my mouth, the dragon said to the tasty morsel. Apparently dragons played with their food too, like cats. But something nudged me - do it. Take the sword.
It was probably dragon magic, trying to manipulate me.
But what could I do? Perhaps I could draw my sword and thrust it into the dragon’s skull from inside its mouth. That might kill it, or at least hurt it. I could have - if I hadn’t dropped my sword down below and climbed up here without it. Stupid. Stupid and useless. That left... the sword in the dragon’s mouth. Nice trap there, dragon. I took a deep breath, and stepped away from the rock, onto the dragon’s broad lower lip, and past the two lower teeth.
The dragon rumbled, and I almost slipped and fell. Maybe that would be the best - if I tumbled into the dragon’s airways and suffocated it. With my luck I’d probably end up in its belly instead.
I stumbled and staggered the few steps over to the sword. Dragon tongue was not a nice surface to walk on. Then I was there, and bent down quickly to grab the sword before the dragon could swallow me.
As my hand closed around the hilt, a shock coursed through my body. A little like an electrical shock, but - not quite. I jumped back and gasped, and staggered backwards until I hit one of the dragon’s teeth.
The sword felt alive. As if it was beating and pulsing somehow, as if some kind of force or power flowed through it. Through it, and into me.
The dragon rumbled, loudly and strongly, and I scrambled backwards as fast as I could. I almost missed the step back onto the rock, but the dragon’s tongue flicked out and gave me a push. I whirled around and stared at the dragon, brandishing the sword.
“Well done, little human. Well done, Peter Smith.” The dragon still hovered leisurely despite the driving rain and regarded me with that amused expression. “No human has stepped into a dragon’s mouth and survived, for a thousand years. Do not thank me, thank the Pale Lady.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
It closed its mouth and seemed to work its jaws. Then it spoke again.
“I was there when it was made”, it said. “I helped the mages make it. I gave them a small bone to put into it.” The dragon raised one gigantic foot, and I saw that on one toe, the claw was slightly crooked. “They would make peace,” it continued. “They would forge and keep the peace, with the sword. So they swore, so they pledged, to me and to the Pale Lady. And so they failed, as everyone has failed. They died, fighting over the sword.”
It reared up and spread its wings wider. As it did, thunder rumbled above us.
“The sword is yours now,” the dragon said, as lightning crackled across the sky. “It is yours now, to use as you please. Go with the Dragonblade, and with the Pale Lady’s blessings!” I could hardly hear it any longer, over the thunder and the sharp cracks of the incessant lightning. The dragon looked terrible, lit by flickering white light, and rising into the sky in front of me. “Live your life, Peter Smith” it roared, “live your life, and suffer!”
It roared, and with two powerful strokes, it was gone. And I was alone again, in the pouring rain and crashing thunder.
I had to get down. The thunderstorm was strengthening, and I saw lightning strike all the rocks around me. I had to get down, or I would be hit too. I could hardly see anything, despite the stroboscopic flashing of the lightning. And I had a sword in my hand - how could I climb with that? I got down on my knees and then sat down, to try to probe slowly down to some kind of foothold.
As I did, I raised the sword to avoid tripping myself - and lightning struck it, instantly. I didn’t have time to react, of course. A lightning strike is instantaneous, channeling millions of volts of electricity into you. If you’re extremely lucky, you survive, but most likely badly burnt.
I didn’t get burnt. I felt the lightning strike the sword, and felt the sword... eat it. That’s what it felt like. It felt as if the sword laughed with joy and absorbed the lightning.
I stared at it in shock. I could feel the lightning dancing across the sky, feel it leap and swirl and crackle, and feel it stab down from high in the clouds, into the rocks. I felt the lightning through the sword, and felt its joy.
It felt very strange, but I didn't have time to investigate it. The rain was increasing and forced my attention away from the sword. I started feeling the black, slippery rock with my feet again.
I don’t know how I got down from the rock, especially with the sword in one hand. Perhaps it guided me somehow, or perhaps the Moon Goddess did. Or it was just plain, dumb luck. However it happened, I got down, and finally stood at our campsite, my legs shaking.
I wanted to rest, but there was no shelter here. I was high up on a mountainside, in the middle of a thunderstorm, and I had to get down.
Except that the sword didn’t want me to. It wanted to stay here, and dance with the lightning. I turned it over and looked at it. It was quite plain, and not even as fancy as my own sword. The blade looked like steel, and the hilt, like bone. Dragon bone, I thought and remembered what the dragon had said. That dragon’s bone.
We need to get down, I thought at the sword. I can’t stay here. In response, lightning stabbed down from four different places, and struck the sword. For a moment, I felt it, and felt how I could direct it.
I didn’t think about it, I just did it. I raised the sword and lowered it, and lightning struck where I pointed. I stared, in shock and joy, as I kept directing the lightning. The sword sang with joy, and felt like it was trembling in my hand.
Enough! I finally told it. This is fun, but we have to get down. I need to get out of the rain.
In response, the rain - stopped. Just in front of me, on the sword. I felt my mouth fall open as I saw the rain hit something invisible in the air, and pour smoothly to the sides, avoiding a small area just ahead, where the sword was. And I could feel how the sword did it.
I raised it above my head, and tried to repeat it. It worked. The rain stopped over me.
I couldn’t help myself - I laughed out loud. The mighty Dragonblade, and it was an umbrella! The sword laughed with me, which was perhaps the most unsettling part. It really seemed to be alive, to some extent. I didn’t understand it, but I’d never had a magical sword before. There would be a lot to think about later, but right now, I was just happy I could block the rain.
I experimented with it, and found I could block the rain even without holding the sword above me. That was good. I still needed to get down.
My backpack, and Caveria’s, were still lying where we’d left them in the morning. Which reminded me - my sword was somewhere around here. And perhaps there was something left where Caveria had fallen. I groped around for my sword, until I got the idea to try using the sword to make light. It worked - I could both make it shine along the whole blade, but also make it cast a beam from the point, like a flashlight.
A strong one - I quickly found my sword and went over to search the area where I thought Caveria had landed. I found nothing, which was probably just as well. Still, I’d had an irrational hope of finding... something. Some memento of her, and her last battle.
I walked in a wider circle and found some of the spikes and knives from her armor, lying broken and twisted on the ground, but there seemed to be nothing else. I was about to give up, reluctantly, and perhaps take one of the shattered blades, when I saw something glint beside a black rock.
It was a small coin, fastened to a leather string. A small silver coin, battered and buckled, with a hole for the string. Was it Caveria's? It had to be, although I'd never seen it. I hoped it was. It felt like the right thing to do, to take it. I opened my tunic and put the coin and string in an inner pocket, at the bottom, where it would be safe. It might be my only physical memory of my brave, if rather arrogant, friend.