As they edged closer to the final stretch of the tunnel, a distant, bone-shaking roar reverberated through the mountain. It rolled through the stone walls like thunder, filling every crevice and crack with an unearthly resonance. Malin, Abel, and Maya froze, pressing themselves against the rough, cold stone, instinctively quieting their breaths. Their hearts hammered in unison, each pulse a reminder of the beast that lay just beyond the cave’s mouth.
They crept forward, keeping close to the jagged walls, trying to blend into the shadows. Ahead, the faint glow of daylight filtered in, illuminating the path that would lead them out of the tunnel. But they knew better than to rush; every step had to be calculated, every sound muted, lest they draw the attention of the creature that was now awake.
As they neared the exit, Malin risked a glance, positioning himself so that only one eye peeked through the narrow gap in the stone. His breath caught as he saw it, soaring high above the mountains, its form stark against the pale blue sky.
The dragon was a monstrous vision, a beast that defied the laws of nature and scale. Its wings alone stretched out like great sails, covered in layered feathers, each one as thick as a branch and edged with a razor-like sharpness. They moved with a graceful, lethal power, slicing through the air with each mighty beat. The span of its wings could have shadowed an entire village, and as it rose higher, its shadow passed over the mountains below like an ominous cloud.
Its body was a blend of sinew and hardened scales, a dark, earthy gray that allowed it to meld seamlessly with the rocky terrain when grounded. But here in the open sky, every ridged muscle and jagged line of its form stood out. Its chest was deep and barrel-like, built for the heavy, terrifying roars that could shake the very mountains. Thick, scaled legs ended in talons that gleamed like iron, each claw long and sharp enough to tear through solid rock—or the armor of any unfortunate soul who crossed its path.
Then there was its face, a visage that seemed carved from nightmares. The dragon’s eyes were deep-set, a piercing yellow that radiated an almost predatory intelligence, as if it were capable of weighing its prey with a single look. Each blink of those eyes was slow, almost deliberate, as it scanned the ground below. Its beak, dark and hooked, looked like it could cleave through stone. Along its brow and down its spine, rows of feathers stood, tipped in a darker shade, almost black, giving it an imposing, crown-like silhouette that only added to its regal and deadly presence.
And trailing behind it, like a ribbon of shadow, was its tail—long, whip-like, and lined with barbed feathers. It moved with a deadly grace, slicing through the air in tandem with its movements, each flick a reminder of its sheer power. The dragon's tail alone could flatten trees, its length as formidable as the rest of its terrifying body.
Malin pulled back, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked at Abel and Maya, his face pale, his eyes wide. He didn’t need to speak; they could see it in his expression—the fear that gripped him, the fear that now gripped all of them. For the first time, they felt the full weight of the stories, the legends whispered about this creature that had single-handedly destroyed armies, toppled fortresses, and left entire kingdoms in ruin.
Maya’s breathing was shallow, her gaze fixed on the ground as if grounding herself would somehow calm the racing of her heart. Abel clenched his jaw, a hard, determined look in his eyes, but even he couldn’t mask the dread etched into his features. This was no mere beast; this was a force of nature, a creature that defied the boundaries of the known world.
The dragon circled in the sky, its massive wings carving patterns through the thin mountain air. The sound of each wing beat was a low, rhythmic thrum, reverberating through the rocks like the pulse of an ancient god. It turned, twisting its body with a grace that seemed impossible for something so large, its wings catching the light, casting a faint shimmer over its otherwise dark and fearsome form.
They watched in silent awe and horror as the dragon drifted lazily around the peak, its gaze shifting over the landscape below. It was in no hurry; this was its domain, and it moved with the confidence of a ruler surveying its kingdom. The mountains were its fortress, and the skies its rightful realm.
Malin’s hands shook as he clutched the reins of his lizard, his mind racing with thoughts of escape, of how they could cross the open terrain without drawing its attention. He turned to Abel, whispering in a tone that was barely audible. “This… this is the beast that has kept armies away?”
Abel nodded, his face set in grim understanding. “And now you understand why. This thing… it’s more than just a creature. It’s a symbol of fear, of death.”
Maya, her voice shaky but resolute, added, “If we’re going to survive this, we need to move carefully, and hope it doesn’t notice us.”
The dragon let out another roar, a deafening sound that seemed to shake the mountains themselves. They felt the vibration in their bones, a primal fear that tugged at their very core. This was a roar that had silenced countless warriors, that had turned the bravest of men to ash and dust. And as it circled above, casting its shadow over the peaks and valleys, they knew they had no choice but to keep going.
As it flew gracefully through the sky, they remained pressed against the cave walls, holding their breaths, praying that its gaze wouldn’t fall upon them. This was the beast that had guarded these lands for at least a century, a creature bound to the mountains by some ancient, unknowable force.
The dragon’s shadow passed over them one last time before it turned, disappearing over the peak of a nearby mountain, leaving them with only the echo of its roar and the memory of its terrifying presence.
For the first time, Malin, Abel, and Maya knew what it meant to be truly afraid. And as they gathered their courage to move forward, they knew that escaping the mountains was only part of the challenge. Facing the unknown beyond would demand every ounce of bravery they possessed.
With the sky dimming into shades of orange and purple, Malin, Abel, and Maya felt the creeping dread of dusk settling around them. They knew what came with the night—those ghoulish beings with their haunting song, a relentless pursuit they barely managed to escape last time. The pressure mounted, and every second felt like grains of sand slipping away.
They flattened themselves low on their lizards, urging the creatures to move quietly across the rocky terrain. The lizards obeyed, silent and alert, crawling with their bellies close to the ground. But as they inched forward, a guttural, sniffing sound echoed above them, sending a shiver down their spines.
High in the sky, the dragon circled, and then, it twisted its massive head down, its nostrils flaring as it caught their scent. The great beast let out a croaky voice, rough and grating, like metal scraping against rock. "Who dares enter Ajax's domain? Who dares crawl like vermin in Ajax's sacred mountains?"
The dragon—Ajax—continued its rambling, speaking to itself in the third person as though it were the only important figure in existence. "Oh, the audacity! Imagine Ajax trespassing in their domain—oh, no, that would be rude. But they? They skulk in Ajax’s land without even announcing themselves. The disrespect!"
Malin, Abel, and Maya dared not make a sound, each holding their breath as Ajax’s voice grew louder, more indignant. They clung to the hope that the dragon would grow bored or distracted. But that hope shattered as the dragon’s keen eyes spotted them, perched just above, glinting with a sinister excitement. Its lipless, leathery mouth curled into an eerie smile, teeth like jagged shards of glass gleaming in the fading light.
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"Ahhh… intruders at last," Ajax rasped, a sinister excitement thickening his voice. Abel, thinking quickly, raised his hands in a placating gesture. "We mean you no harm, mighty Ajax. We’re only passing through—"
But Ajax interrupted, its voice dripping with contempt. "Passing through? Passing through? HA! Do I look like a fool to you?" It laughed, a sharp, mocking sound that sent tremors through the cliffside. "Ajax does not allow trespassers. And you dare speak to Ajax as if you’re equals? How… quaint."
The dragon’s throat began to glow a fiery red, an ominous light radiating from within its massive chest, pulsating like the beat of a heart. A deep, rumbling hiss filled the air, and Malin felt the rising heat, as if they were standing in front of an open forge. The very air around them seemed to ripple with the intensity, waves of searing warmth hitting them even before the flame had left Ajax’s maw.
With a sound like a roaring furnace, Ajax unleashed a torrent of fire, its intensity blinding, its roar deafening. The cliffside lit up in an explosion of heat and flame, and Malin’s skin tingled painfully, even through the shield that Maya conjured with her water. Steam hissed and crackled as her water barrier held off the worst of the blaze, but they all knew it was only a temporary defense.
"GO!" Maya shouted, her voice straining with the effort. The water shield was breaking apart under the immense force, droplets evaporating as the flames licked hungrily toward them.
Their lizards responded instantly, leaping off the cliff’s edge with the agility of creatures born for this terrain. Their wings extended, jagged and rugged, allowing them to glide down into the maze-like mountain paths. Ajax screeched with glee, his wings snapping open as he dove after them. "A chase! Oh, Ajax loves a good chase!"
The trio clung tightly to their mounts as they wove between rock formations and narrow ledges, the lizards’ wings slicing through the air with practiced precision. They darted through tight spaces, seeking to outmaneuver the enormous dragon behind them. But Ajax was relentless, roaring as he swerved through the air, spitting streams of fire that narrowly missed them, scorching the rocks and melting any ledges that got in his way.
Maya’s face was pale, her eyes wide with fear as she glanced back at the dragon closing in. Abel, teeth gritted, managed a strained, “Don’t worry, Maya—I’ll keep you safe.”
Malin, hearing this, called over, “And me?”
Abel shot him a reluctant look, muttering, “I thought I said that earlier. My sister would never forgive me otherwise.”
But there was no time for banter. The dragon was closing the distance, its fiery breath searing the air as it scorched their path. Rocks shattered under Ajax’s claws as he swiped at the cliff walls in his rage, determined to crush or burn the intruders he considered his prey.
“Through the caves!” Abel shouted, directing his lizard into a narrow opening just large enough for them to enter but too small for Ajax’s wingspan. Maya and Malin followed, but even as they ducked into the dark passage, they could hear Ajax’s fury outside, the dragon bellowing as he clawed at the cave’s entrance, his flames licking through the opening and nearly scorching them.
Inside, the darkness was their shield, but it wouldn’t last long. The echo of Ajax’s claws scratching against the stone, followed by the loud crack of his talons tearing chunks of rock from the cave walls, reminded them that he was not easily deterred.
“We need a distraction!” Malin shouted, his voice barely audible over the cacophony.
A plan began forming in his mind. Turning to Maya, he explained, “If we can create enough vapour, it might confuse him long enough for us to slip away.”
Maya’s eyes widened as she caught on, nodding in agreement. “Abel, get ready! Malin, stand back.”
With practised precision, Abel and Maya unleashed their respective powers at each other, fire and water colliding with a violent hiss. Steam billowed up around them, filling the narrow cave with a thick, impenetrable fog. The vapour obscured them, a veil of mist that Ajax couldn’t see through.
The dragon screeched in irritation, his voice echoing through the mountains. “Cowards! Ajax can smell you! You think you can hide from Ajax?”
But as the vapor thickened, the trio used the cover to slip deeper into the cave, finding a small, hidden crevice just large enough for them and their lizards to squeeze into. They huddled there, holding their breaths, pressing themselves into the darkness.
Outside, Ajax’s wails grew louder, his frustration mounting. He clawed at the ground, snorting and hissing, furious at his prey’s disappearance. The dragon’s pride had been wounded, his ego bruised, and he shrieked into the night, his voice echoing through the mountain range.
But after a while, even Ajax’s patience waned. With a final, angry roar, he took to the skies, his massive wings casting one last shadow over the mountains as he flew off, muttering to himself about “worthless intruders” and “ungrateful trespassers.”
In their small, hidden crevice, Malin, Abel, and Maya let out a collective sigh of relief, exhausted but alive. The dragon’s wrath had been terrifying, but they had managed to survive. For now. As the sound of Ajax’s wings faded into the distance, they remained silent, feeling the weight of what they had just endured, and knowing that this would not be their last brush with danger.
With their hearts still pounding from their narrow escape, the trio took a moment to breathe, though the threat of both the dragon and the ghouls weighed heavily on their minds. They knew that time was slipping through their fingers, and soon enough, Ajax’s wrath would reignite, his anger like a firestorm just waiting to find them again. The eerie song of the ghouls would not be far behind, haunting them through the valleys and shadows. They had no choice but to keep moving, pushing forward toward their final destination—Shar-Kesh.
Malin studied the map, his finger tracing their remaining path with a determined glint in his eye. "Shar-Kesh isn’t far. If we’re quick, we can reach it before the moon rises," he said, his voice filled with urgency and quiet resolve. Swinging onto his lizard, he steadied himself, a picture of unexpected bravery. The baker boy from Bulsi-Jan was long gone, replaced by a man willing to face monsters for the woman he loved.
Abel and Maya shared a glance, both struck by Malin’s resolve and transformation. The quiet confidence in his voice, the steady look in his eyes—it was enough to spark something in them, a reminder of the courage they once had and the bond they once shared. For a fleeting moment, the two warriors found themselves transported back to the days when they fought side by side, their lives intertwined with unspoken promises.
“It feels like the old days,” Maya murmured softly, her gaze lingering on Abel. Her voice carried a mix of nostalgia and vulnerability that she rarely allowed to surface.
Abel looked at her, his expression softening, a flicker of something deeper hidden in his eyes. “It could be like the old days again,” he said, his hand reaching out to hers, fingers curling around hers gently.
Maya didn’t pull away. For the first time in years, she allowed herself to hold onto him, even if only for a brief, fragile moment. These moments were rare in a life filled with danger and uncertainty, yet they held a weight that made her realise how precious life truly was. She looked over at Malin, watching him square his shoulders with a courage that seemed almost naïve yet undeniably genuine. If he, a baker from a small bakery, could stand up to dragons and face the unknown, maybe she could find the courage to let down her own walls.
“If we live through this…” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the wind, “maybe we should give it another shot.”
Abel’s eyes widened slightly, and a small, hopeful smile crept onto his face. “I’d like that,” he replied, his voice filled with a quiet warmth. Their hands slowly separated, but the unspoken promise lingered between them, as fragile and beautiful as a single flame in the dark.
From up ahead, Malin called back, breaking the quiet intimacy of the moment. “Are you two coming or what? We don’t have all night!” His voice held a teasing edge, though there was an eagerness to it that reminded them of the urgency of their mission.
Maya and Abel exchanged one last look, a shared smile that needed no words. With renewed determination, they mounted their lizards, ready to face whatever lay ahead. This was the final and most dangerous leg of their journey, the end of a path filled with danger, hope, and the promise of something greater than any of them had imagined. Together, they would ride into the unknown, their hearts steeled for whatever awaited them at Shar-Kesh.