Dragon's Lair

"I think he was mad," said Mantegor. "I'm no different from any other man, and I've no desire to make peace with serpents."

"You are the one," Yana whispered, and her words came to him as if in a misty dream. "Deny it as you will. The truth will one day be revealed to you. I imparted to you a secret, a mystery entrusted to me by Zhyrtuk many long years ago. In time, that secret will be fully revealed to you, but that time has not yet come, and I cannot say what will happen when it does, but it's clear the world is changing rapidly. New vistas will transform the old, and perhaps much of what once was shall be lost forevermore....."

Mantegor took up his sword from where it had fallen. The blade was black and lusterless now. Never more would it gleam as it once had before it had tasted the blood of the Elder Dragon.

"I go now," said Yana, and even as he watched, she began to vanish, as if she were shrinking into her own self. Her voice grew more and more indistinct as if she were speaking to him from a distance. "Farewell, Mantegor of Arcturia! Our paths may never cross again, but I wish that you might think of me kindly, if ever you think of me at all."

And then she was gone, and no trace of her remained. Mantegor too felt himself drifting away...... unable to maintain his hold on his reality. Slowly, but inexorably, a viscous grey fog slipped over his consciousness like a filmy veil. Then, for a time without measure, he knew no more.

When at last he rose from the pit where he had lain after slaying the Elder Dragon, he still held the sword in his hand the sword that that had slain the beast. The blade was blackened and stained, but it's edge remained His memories of the battle and the days preceding it were misty and vague. He knew only that he had slain his enemy. He also knew he was now alone and the last of his tribe. His homeland was forever lost to him.

The mountains he had traversed were gaunt and barren, and had made a similar creature of him. The mountains that lay ahead he knew were probably much worse.

Yet, the siren song of adventure had begun his journey, that irresistible compulsion that might or might not be his destiny drew him on once more. He knew not if he'd ever reach the more hospitable lands to the South. But he would go on. Even if he didn't make it, he would die trying. There was no other choice. Surrender wasn't part of his nature. The Bright Lands beckoned, a promise of tomorrow, and Mantegor of Arcturus, last warrior of a vanished warrior tribe, followed the path of the sun, pursuing what was left of his dreams.

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Epilogue

"Do you think he realizes the truth?"

"No, my daughter," answered Zhyrtuk. "He is wholly ignorant. He truly believes he's slain me. He's taken up the dark blade which tasted my blood and he carries your secret in his mind. The prophesy is fulfilled. That's all that matters now. His future is in his own hands, and we are no longer bound by a false destiny."

"You took the form of a dead dragon very convincingly," she admitted. "And yet I wonder now if it was all worth it? Mankind still remains our greatest foe and greatest nemesis. Nothing Mantegor can do will change that. I doubt that he knows that his child now rests in my belly, but if he did, I wonder if he would care?"

"We can only hope that Mantegor survives the long and treacherous journey that lies before him," said Zhyrtuk. Though he knows it not, all hopes for the destiny

of dragons and men now rest with him. Mankind may be our greatest nemesis, but Mantegor is our only hope for a savior."

THE END