A Dragon's Tale Ch. 01

The tracker drew his bow and nocked an arrow. Judging by the smoothness of the motion, it looked like he was born holding a bow. He thundered closer and Alana tried to get a good shot, but the rider wasn't giving her one.

Then the tracker moved.

Like greased lightning, he leaned out from behind the horse, drew the bow and released it in one smooth motion. The moment he exposed himself, Alana let her arrow fly. Given his obvious level of skill, she half expected to feel his arrow hit her, but he missed. His arrow went wide by a couple of feet.

Alana's arrow didn't.

Her arrow struck him in the left eye. He fell from his horse and rolled half a dozen times. When he finally came to a halt, his neck, arms and legs were at odd angles that no living person could endure.

"Yes!" Alana Jumped for joy. "Ethan we did..."

She stopped cold.

The tracker hadn't missed after all; she hadn't been his target. There was an arrow embedded in Ethan's chest and seeing where it had hit, Alana was certain it had pierced his heart. He fell backwards onto the ground.

"No!" Alana screamed. She dropped everything and ran to his side. He was coughing and gargling, as if trying to get air.

"Stay with me!" she shouted. "Come on, use your mana. Heal it up."

"I... I can't..." Ethan gasped. "There's none... there's no..."

"Shh, let me do it. This is going to hurt like hell." She grabbed the arrow and unceremoniously ripped it out of his chest. He blanched and blood started pouring from the wound.

Alana was an enchantress at heart. She had spent her entire life enchanting and her skill with active spells was almost non-existent. So she did the only thing she could think of: she gathered every last ounce of mana in her body and threw it all at the wound.

It wasn't enough.

The wound was largely closed and the blood flow slowed, but she could feel that the damage wasn't fully repaired. Ethan's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the ground. He wasn't dead, but he would be soon if she didn't do something fast.

She was completely out of mana; she had no medical supplies or bandages, and no enchanted items that could help her. Ethan was dying in her arms and she was completely powerless to save him.

Alana screamed.

It was a deep, bloodcurdling scream that echoed across the plains. It was a cry for help and she wished for help so badly that she felt mana from somewhere leak into her scream. It amplified her wail magically and made it reverberate across the plains.

That was when she realized there was one more option -- one more thing she could try. The mana that flowed through her, giving her life and keeping her alive was still there. She could use that. It wouldn't provide much, but it might be enough.

Maybe.

Possibly.

She had to try.

There was a moment's hesitation as she realized what the implications would be if another elf ever found out. What it would mean for her and Ethan in the Elven culture, but she didn't care.

Alana grabbed hold of the deep mana in her body -- the mana that anchored her life and soul to her body -- and poured that into Ethan's wound. She could feel herself getting weaker, but she only needed to heal a little more. She started to become lightheaded and couldn't maintain the flow anymore.

She collapsed on the ground next to Ethan. She couldn't tell if he was alive or dead. She didn't know if her healing had been enough. Her vision was becoming cloudy and the bright blue sky began to resemble midnight. As the darkness closed in on her, her last thought was a prayer to Illuminar that she had done enough.

Then blackness took her.

TO BE CONTINUED...