Suddenly a roar split the afternoon calm like an axe through a log; the sound was unmistakable as one of the most trauma-inducing things I’d ever heard in my life. I leapt to my feet with my staff at the ready. Alverd was ready too, his sword drawn and shield raised. We searched our surroundings frantically to try and determine the direction the sound had originated from, but no dice. The roar came again but this time we could sense that it coming from behind us. We whirled around at the same time.

A blurry shadow shot over us as quick as a flash. A wave of force from the beating of large, leathery wings knocked us both from our feet as the shadow reeled into the air for another pass. I looked up and saw the unmistakable outline of a dragon.

Most people have different ideas about how dragons look, but the consensus is that they’re large creatures, big enough to fit an entire cow in their mouths. A fully grown dragon, perhaps, could be large enough to do so, and sport a wingspan that would dwarf anything known to man. This dragon was big, but not as big as a fully grown, adult dragon. It was still taller than three men though, with wings stretching at least the length of two-and-a-half. Its mouth was lined with sharp, wicked looking fangs meant for the express purpose of ripping flesh from bones. Small horns protruded from the back of its skull, and its scales glittered a bright yellow-green in the afternoon sun. The dragon bellowed again, revealing its teeth, then swooped down for another attack.

Alverd had his sword out, for all the good it would do. Dragons had scales that were virtually impervious to steel. I couldn’t figure out for the life of me what he was thinking until he started dancing around and screaming at the dragon whirling overhead.

He was luring it toward him and away from me.

Recognition gave speed to my will. I picked up my staff and began focusing on a spell. My best bet was to use an ice spell on the dragon’s scaly underbelly, cooling it to the point of shattering. Then, Alverd could deliver a killing blow to the heart straight through the unprotected area. Unfortunately, that would require careful timing; if I failed to get it right, Alverd would be within striking distance with no means of counterattack or defense. The dragon’s fiery breath would melt Alverd’s shield in an instant, and charbroil him. If the fire didn’t do it, its claws would slice through shield and armor like a blade through parchment.

Despite being at the base of the mountain, there was still plenty of chill in the air to supply the water I needed for an ice spell. The ball of freezing cold swirled into existence at the tip of my staff, drawing upon the water vapor in the air. Slowly, the dragon circled ever closer to Alverd, wings beating furiously.

The dragon’s jaws opened wide. Alverd saw what was coming and leapt off to the side with all the speed he could muster. A blazing torrent of red shot from the dragon’s open maw and scorched the ground where he had been standing seconds ago. Green grass turned to blackened, smoking ash, soil to cracked dust. At last, the creature ceased its destruction and saw that it had missed Alverd completely. The beast slammed onto the ground, landing on all fours, then reared up and roared once again.

There was my chance.

With a primal scream, I sent the orb of cold at the dragon. It smashed straight into its chest, staining it with a coat of shimmering ice. The dragon let loose an earthshaking cry. The force of the spell caused the dragon to hit the ground in a sprawl, and it fell to its side with its frozen underbelly exposed. Weakened by the expulsion of my spell, I fell back on my ass as the dragon thrashed wildly.

Like a hawk, Alverd came shooting down from the sky, sword raised, the point angled down to pierce the dragon’s hide. There was a cracking sound as the sword met the ice, then an unsettling squelch as the blade sank into the dragon’s flesh. The dragon let out a screech of pain, and fell silent. The corpse twitched a few times before it ceased moving. Alverd pulled his sword from the dragon’s carcass, flicked the blood away, and sheathed his sword. He turned to look at me, smiled, and gave me a gesture of thanks. I returned the gesture thinking that we were out of the woods.

At that moment, a human female came scrambling over a nearby hill, waving her arms. She had shoulder length blonde hair, sky-blue eyes, a lithe frame, and a short stature. Her skin was fair but lightly tanned, typical for people who lived in a part of the world where the sun beat down on them constantly. She was wearing a dragonhide leather cuirass that was normal for the tamers of Ishmar. Several belts tied to the one around her waist were swaying to and fro, and her arms were clad in leather gauntlets bound with straps. She was also wearing tall boots that reached past her knees.

She may have looked human, but when she got closer, she proved to be more terrifying than the dragon.

As she approached she started screaming a long line of obscenities that even sailors would find offensive. She was also waving a nasty-looking two handed maul with a head wrought of finely polished metal with draconic imagery inlaid into its design with gold etching. Weapons like that were the kind that could smash skulls like they were made of glass. She was wielding it in just one hand, which was impressive given that its handle was nearly as long as she was tall. She was also carrying several knives on the straps around her legs, which I had a bit of a phobia about. Despite her barrage of colorful language, she didn’t appear to be out of breath; either she was incredibly fit, or she hadn’t run far. Both looked equally likely.

And she was headed straight for us.

When I was young, I was bullied by other kids because I spent all my time with my face buried in books. As such, I never really developed any ability to defend myself apart from setting peoples’ clothes on fire, which apparently wasn’t acceptable, for reasons that still elude me to this day. Once I made friends with Alverd, though, he always protected me.

So when I immediately hid behind Alverd, it was purely out of reflex and not because I was afraid that the crazy girl was going to turn me into dragon chow with her maul. Yup. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

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The girl finally closed the distance and she immediately got into Alverd’s face, spittle flying from her open mouth. She looked practically rabid. I took one look at the pure, unadulterated murder in her eyes and shrunk behind Alverd even more. Up close, I could see that she was shorter than I’d originally guessed; she was closer to my own height, probably only a hair’s width taller. She looked like she was in the later parts of her teenage years, around eighteen or so.

She was wearing dragon bone earrings in both of her ears and a solid gold tiara inlaid with eight sapphires on her head. There was a symbol on her armor that I dimly recalled as a numeral in the ancient Ishmarian language of Ishratan. I also noticed that even though she was short, her arms and legs were lean with plenty of muscle to them. She could probably beat me in arm wrestling and send me flying off a table if I tried to challenge her. Then, she opened her mouth again and started berating Alverd in a shrill, high-pitched voice.

“What the hell is wrong with you idiots? Do you have any idea of what you’ve done?”

Alverd and I traded looks. Finally, Alverd answered. “Um…we killed a dragon? But to be fair, it attacked us first.”

This revelation seemed to only make the girl angrier. She waved her maul again, and my eyes tracked it nervously. At such close range, I would never be able to outrun such a weapon. She would chase me down easily and turn my head into a splattered tomato with that giant metal block on a stick. While I was processing this, the girl continued screaming.

“Don’t tell me you useless commoners couldn’t see the saddle on that dragon’s back?”

Alverd and I traded looks. Slowly, we glanced over our shoulders at the dragon’s corpse. Sure enough, a leather riding harness was fastened to the dragon’s back at the base of its neck. It was rather inconspicuous, which explained why we had missed it in our struggle for survival. Tiny straps with metal fastenings looped under the dragon’s neck and arms to secure the harness, and could barely be seen unless one was on the lookout for them specifically. Alverd looked at me again, a pained look of recognition on his face.

“It was my fault,” Alverd told the girl. He immediately cut off my attempt at a retort with a sweep of his arm. “It was my blade that killed your dragon. I will be the one to take responsibility for this misunderstanding.” To emphasize his guilt, he stepped forward and clapped his hand against his armor. There he went again with his heroic self-sacrifice shtick. He didn’t even realize he did it or that it drove the ladies crazy. Even when he’s trying to defend me, he annoys me, I thought resentfully.

The girl crossed her arms over her chest, her maul still held tight in her right hand. “Damn right you will. The both of you are going to be brought to the Castle of Brimstone to answer for this crime! You could both be foreign spies trying to interfere with the Rite of Succession. Only a few people knew I would be training out here, and you killing my dragon like this could be some kind of ploy to remove me from the Tournament!”

Uh-oh. I had forgotten about that. Ishmar was undergoing a transitional phase at the moment. Whispers in all circles, from merchants to mercenaries, claimed that the King of Ishmar was ill, and his time was quickly running out. His many children would be vying for the throne in Ishmarian tradition; through ritual combat. Each of his children would pit their personal pet dragons against one another, and the last one standing would be the one to take the throne.

Although killing another child’s dragon outside the Rite was forbidden, if the dragon was killed by an outside party, that particular child would have no choice but to give up their chance at ascending the throne. It was all needlessly complex, and supposedly would prevent blood feuds, but I don’t think it was as effective a deterrent as the previous Kings had thought. All that political instability was just another reason why it had been a bad idea to come.

I already suspected as such, but it didn’t hurt to confirm my suspicion. I tentatively leaned out from behind Alverd to ask my question. “Then, does that mean that you are one of the Princesses?”

The girl’s attitude immediately changed from irritation to arrogance. She confidently thrust her nose in the air and took on a haughty tone. She puffed out her chest and placed her hands on her hips, probably in an effort to command our attention further. Not that she had any success in that manner. The only way her self-introduction could get any more dramatic would have been if a personal entourage burst out of nowhere with fanfare and confetti.

“Ah, so you finally figured it out, hmm? Yes, I am one of the princesses of Ishmar. I am Alicia Helgart Irva Dragontamer VIII, the Eighth Princess of Ishmar! Now, you will bow in my presence, commoner! Be grateful that I grant you such an honor! Beg for my forgiveness, dogs!”

The two of us stood there staring at the princess. We were completely at a loss for words. Even I couldn’t come up with a sarcastic reply to such a line when delivered with the conviction she had.

Then the other thing she had said finally registered. She said that we were going to be brought to the Castle of Brimstone. The Castle of Brimstone was supposed to be the capital of Ishmar, a great stone fortress built upon a dead volcano. If we were taken there, my identity as a mage would probably cause some serious problems for my life expectancy.

It was bad enough that we had just killed a dragon belonging to a member of the royal family. My status as a mage would most definitely cement us as spies or saboteurs. I doubt there would even be a trial. A quick nod, a sentencing, and then our heads would roll.

Then I remembered that she was alone and no longer had a dragon.

“So,” I ventured, “you’re going to take us to the Castle of Brimstone, huh? You and what army?” I folded my arms and gave her the smuggest smile I could manage. Weasel out of that logic, dragon princess, I thought with childish satisfaction.

Alicia answered my smile with one of her own. Then she raised her fingers to her mouth and gave a shrill whistle. A few moments later, six dragon riders crested the hill, forming a perimeter around us. The dragons each of the men were riding weren’t as big as the Princess’ had been, but they were still large and intimidating. Each rider wore black armor with red stripes, carrying spears with wickedly sharp blades. Each soldier had the same Ishmarian numeral emblazoned on their shoulders in blue signifying their loyalty to their Princess. Even their dragons had ebony armor plates held in place by leather straps, and their captain had an ornate helm as black as the midnight sky.

The leader hefted his spear and held the point in our direction, and his fellow riders did the same. Alverd and I stood back-to-back, their blades hovering just inches from our faces.

Alicia’s smile grew even wider. “I trust this army will be sufficient?”

Some people have said that the gods work in mysterious ways. Personally, I always thought they were sadists. Everything made perfect sense when you looked at it like that.

It would certainly explain my luck.