The Dragon & The Damsel

The clip-clop of hooves on the ground was loud in the quiet afternoon air. Shadowstride whickered restlessly, kept to a steady pace up the hill. The path ahead curved left, so Sir Edmund murmured to his mount, guiding him around the bend.

The path continued upwards. To the left was a patch of land stretching to the edge of the hill. Overgrown grass covered the entire area, except for a strip of dirt branching from the path, leading to the ruins of a guard tower. He rode over to that dilapidated tower, and once there, slid off Shadowstride. What looked like a barred window in a massive chunk of stone lay on the ground, the corresponding hole visible in the tower above them. He tied the stallion to one of the window's rusted metal bars, and then stroked the beast's mane affectionately.

"I'll be back soon," he promised.

After one last glance over his shoulder, he trudged back to the path. There was bit more to hike up before the top of the great hill, but finally, he crested it.

Grandruin lay ahead, its blackened walls crumbling, the towers beyond missing chunks of their exteriors.

The nearby villagers had kept their distance even before the arrival of the dragon, believing the once-formidable keep to filled with the vengeful spirits of the family that had lived and ruled from there until a brutal revolt launched by those villagers' ancestors had resulted in every member meeting a gruesome death. Once the dragon had claimed Grandruin for himself, haunted had become dangerous, and there was a tangible reason for them to stay away.

But a damsel was trapped in Grandruin, and Sir Edmund was a sworn knight.

It did not matter that his glory days were firmly behind him. The slight paunch at his belly and encroaching grey in his otherwise rich brown hair meant nothing.

As the younger knights and those who frequented the sparring arenas of home could attest to, none of his martial talents had waned, even as his body had begun to show off the effects of age. His sword still swung true, and his bow still aimed accurately. Only the latter was with him now, perched on his back.

The dragon who had claimed the castle for its home was but an obstacle in his quest to save the damsel. Others had tried, and all had failed miserably.

But success would be his.

He paused as he reached the outer wall of the keep. Scorches stained the rock where the dragon had made his fury known. Already, there were a few corpses, charred almost entirely into ash.

A breach in the wall provided a path into the inside of the keep. Several guard towers stood, half-crumbled, while another wall waited ahead. The gate was open, however, the massive door knocked out of place, on its back further past the threshold.

Great chunks of stone lay about in the spacious inner yard. A few more charred corpses were strewn here and there.

The castle itself waited ahead, its many towers also bearing numerous scorch marks, streaked across the stone in wide swaths of black.

The walkway up to the entrance of the castle was cluttered with more chunks of stone and more dead men.

The inside of the castle boasted plenty of space, but much of it was ruined. Almost all the ceiling was missing. The floor fell away in a few spots, the entire left side crumbling down to the lower level, a jagged line of stone left over.

He walked carefully, ready to take up his bow if need be.

To kill a dragon, one needed the right equipment, a not insignificant amount of men, and luck as well.

But his priority was not killing the dragon.

He understood, unlike the others who had attempted this quest, that it was about the damsel, not the beast holding her captive.

So, he had ignored the first two prerequisites. There were no men with him, even though many would have followed him. His armor was back at home. A leather tunic, emblazoned with his family heraldry, covered a simple shirt. His trousers were simple as well, as were his boots. He had eschewed a helmet, as it would not protect him from dragon fire.

Speed would be the order of the day once the damsel was rescued, since hopefully, he would not have to face the dragon until it was absolutely necessary. First would come caution, so he exercised it, creeping through the hall, avoiding the rubble that might crunch under his gait.

A soft, slow hiss stopped him in his tracks.

It built, filling the empty space, swirling up into the air.

And then it stopped.

In its place moments later came a deep, reverberating voice.

"I smell...an intruder..."

He ducked behind a heavy piece of debris, peeking out from the makeshift cover to scan the hall.

"Who dares venture into my sanctum?"

The silence that followed that ominous question was thick and tense.

And then it was unceremoniously broken.

"WHO DARES!?"

The floor shook from the might of that voice. Sir Edmund glanced around, searching for its source.

The voice came again, dripping with contempt.

"Are you brave or simply deluded?"

As loud as the voice was, reverberating in the remnants of the hall, he found it difficult to tell where it was coming from, but he kept looking around.

"Have you not seen the others who came for her?"

He looked over to the edge of the remaining floor.

"Their bodies are but ash. I burned every one of them, heard their screams, smelled their charred flesh."

He crept towards it, staying low.

"You will be next, little knight."

As he neared the edge, he spied a mass of shiny black scales shifting below it.

A strong whoosh knocked him backwards as the dragon launched itself into the sky. He hit the stone hard, but rolled to his feet, and crouched low, peered through the clouds of dust that had been kicked up by that sudden flight.

The beast was climbing higher, that massive silhouette standing out starkly against the sky.

As he watched, it arced back around, straight for him.

He grabbed his bow, nocked an arrow, and aimed.

An arrow flew, followed by another. Both were lost in the shadow the dragon cast.

From the ground, he could see the red of its malicious eyes.

And then it opened its maw, revealing row after row of jagged teeth. A fiery swirl was coalescing in the back of its mouth.

He leapt off the remaining floor.

The rush of fire was blazing, but it missed him. That heat was formidable enough to make sweat break out over his back.

He landed on the lower level, not too far of a drop, and set off at a run across to a set of stairs that led back up.

"Run, little knight, run!" the dragon called. "Your arrows are useless against my flames!"

Another burst of fire snuck through the fallen-away portion of the floor, licking the space where he had been landed.

The stairway brought him out into a small courtyard. There were more chunks of stone laying around, and more bodies as well.

As he dashed towards the door at the other end of the courtyard, a whoosh of air from behind him caught his attention.

The dragon was atop the far wall, its wings cocked back, its neck a graceful arc. Again, it opened its mouth, another fiery swirl building there.

He dove through the door, the heat from the flames tickling him.

"This quest shall end in your death, fool! The woman is mine!"

The voice had come closer and closer. He glanced over his shoulder to see the beast poke its snout over the threshold.

"Feel the wrath of my fire!"

The knight was already through the next doorway but heard the whoosh of the dragon's blazing breath.

The castle was a maze of rooms, courtyards, and corridors. He steadily worked his way to the damsel, dodging the dragon and its blasts of flame all the while, sweat building underneath his clothes from the heat those blasts gave off.

Finally, he stopped briefly in one of the courtyards. Even when his route had been determined by the dragon's pursuit, he had made sure to track his progress, and knew that he was in the northwest corner of the castle.

The tallest and least damaged of the towers stood nearby.

The damsel awaited, so he continued towards the doorway at the other end of the courtyard.

A crunching sound came from behind him. A quick backwards glance showed the dragon climbing atop one of the courtyard's crumbling walls, its claws scraping against the stone.

"Time to meet your gods, fool!" the beast crowed, rearing its head back to prepare for another spray of flame.

Sir Edmund rushed through the door and dove sideways. The fire burst through the doorway, scorching the walls, thankfully not close to him. Even from several meters away, the heat was intense, the air shimmering with great warmth.

In front of him, stairs wound around out of sight, so he bounded up. A few steps were crumbled away, forcing him to jump up several times. His body complained at the strenuous activity, but he ignored it.

The stairs ended at a landing where one wall was entirely blown off, the dragon's silhouette dark against the sky as it flew by. Ahead of him was that last door, behind which the damsel awaited rescue.

The door was old and heavy, and the knob was missing, but he pressed his shoulder to it, and pushed with all his might, forcing it open.

Beyond was a small room, furnished with only a cushioned stone bench.

The damsel was sitting there. When she saw him, her eyes widened.

"My lady," he said respectfully, extending a hand, "I have come to rescue you."

She stared at him for a moment, her expression of wonder and awe, as if thinking him some vision or dream.

And then the dragon roared nearby, making her flinch in fright.

"Then I shall go with you," she said, taking his hand hurriedly.

She followed him down the stairs, carefully hitching up her dress to jump down past the missing steps.

When they reached that last courtyard, now their first open space, Sir Edmund peered out into the area, checking for the dragon.

"Wait here," he told her, and stepped outside.

The quiet in the courtyard was ominous, but the dragon was nowhere to be seen.

He ducked back inside and held out his hand to the damsel.

"You'll have to trust me."

She nodded nervously, her hand clasping around his, the grip surprisingly strong. In the few seconds before they dashed into the courtyard, as she peeked out of the entryway, he took in the sight of her.

It was obvious that like him, she was older, but much like his combat skills had not diminished, her beauty and grace had not been affected by age. The former was evident in her delicate features, the serene blue of her eyes, the slender bridge of her nose, the smooth skin of her cheeks, the subtle pout of her lips. The latter was evident in the way she carried herself, the quiet dignity noticeable even with the anxious expression that was plastered all over those delicate features. His gaze roamed downwards and noted that the extra weight that had come with age had made her figure pleasantly voluptuous.

"My life is in your hands, Sir Knight," she murmured, glancing back to him, the knight dragging his eyes from her figure to meet her gaze, "I will trust you with it."

He nodded solemnly.

And then led her out into the courtyard, ducking low and weaving around the slabs of stone that littered the ground.

The dragon was nowhere to be seen, but a screeching roar echoed through the air as they reached the far door. The damsel let out an instinctive whimper and clutched his hand tighter.

He stopped for a moment once through the door, thinking back to his venture through the castle, remembering the various twists and turns he had taken. While he planned their route, the damsel stayed close to him.

His memory served him well, as the first half of their escape was quick, and better still, uneventful but for the occasional roar of the dragon.

And then they ducked out into one of the courtyards.

The duo was only a few steps out from the doorway when he heard a crunching sound from above them.

Acting on instinct, he shoved the damsel back through the doorway, and dove aside.

Seconds later, a large stone piece landed where they had just been, slamming against the ground, small shards flying off from the impact. A few hit him, but did nothing beyond bother him, as they were neither heavy nor sharp enough to do damage. He came up from his dive into a smooth roll, and then dove forward again, taking cover behind another large stone piece.

"You will not save her!" the dragon snarled.

A blast of fire burst out above his head, not close enough to hurt him but close enough for him to feel the heat.

"SHE IS MINE!"

The dragon let out a ferocious roar, and he peeked out around his cover to see it launch itself from the crumbling wall of the courtyard and into the sky. As it flew higher, he raced to the doorway. The damsel was around the corner, shrinking back against the wall, trembling with fear, her face pale and drawn.

"Come with me," he told her, extending a hand again.

She took it and followed him back out into the courtyard.

The dragon was beginning to arc around for his descent.

"I will distract the beast," he said resolutely, "you, my lady, must make your way to the door. Be quick and quiet."

She nodded and began to weave her way through the debris on the ground.

He unslung his bow, took an arrow from his quiver, and nocked it. A bead of sweat rolled down the bridge of his nose as he aimed at those monstrous features.

The beast was bearing down fast, its mouth opening, an orange swirl forming behind the rows of long, sharp teeth.

He fired his arrow and ran for the door.

The damsel was waiting for him there, and on they ran. He glanced back to see the dragon peering through the threshold, that malevolent gaze fixed on them. There was a corner ahead, so he sped up, the damsel dashing alongside him. They rounded the corner, and a few seconds later, heard a loud whoosh as the dragon unleashed its fire into the small corridor.

He led the damsel through the various rooms, courtyards, and corridors. Here and there, the dragon flew by, visible either in the open sky or through missing walls and ceilings. Each appearance was accompanied by a monstrous roar, the damsel squealing in fright at each one. Despite that fear, she followed him faithfully through the ruins, not stopping or slowing, her hand clasped to his. He made sure to glance back from time to time to reassure her with a quick smile or confident nod. The exertion of their frantic escape did not dim her beauty in the slightest; the sweat that gleamed on her forehead and stuck wayward strands of hair to her cheeks gave her an alluring glow in fact, her natural, physical charm brought to life by this incredible danger.

The dragon was content to circle the castle and taunt them while they attempted their escape.

"You will not escape! Your body will lie among the others before the sun sets!"

"I shall add you to my collection of corpses, and she will be back in my clutches!"

"Flee for your life! My fire will find you soon enough!"

Finally, they reached that first part of the castle. The dragon had not appeared or taunted them for the past few minutes, so they crept through the debris, Sir Edmund glancing around attentively, his ears listening for any noises that might reveal it hiding nearby.

"Are we almost safe?" the damsel whispered.

He slipped his hand from her grasp and drew his bow.

"Stay close to me," he murmured back, nocking an arrow.

A few steps from the entryway, which was now their exit into the castle grounds, a deep, booming laugh rang out like rolling thunder.

Nearby, the floor fell away, the place where the dragon had been on the knight's way in.

He aimed his bow.

A column of fire erupted up from the lower level, swirling into the sky, the heat tickling him.

A moment later, a great, dark shape followed the column of fire, the whoosh of its flight knocking him back on his heels.

The knight and the damsel took cover behind a heap of debris.

"Stay down," he told her.

She nodded solemnly.

He peered around the edge of the heap.

The dragon was settled atop the far wall, its malevolent gaze sweeping the hall.

"You are the first who has been able to get to her. I must admit I am impressed."

He put the arrow back in his quiver and slung his bow back over his shoulder.

"But your end will be just as swift as everyone else's."

He crouched and picked up a nearby rock.

"Come out and at least face your death with courage. Hiding will not help you for much longer."

With a flick of his wrist, he sent the rock over to the other side of the hall.

The clatter alerted the dragon, who slunk over to investigate.

He dashed for the doorway, tugging the damsel behind him, glancing over his shoulder to see the dragon knocking aside various heaps of debris, searching for them.

The duo made it out onto the main walkway, and ran, throwing caution to the wind as they sped through the grounds.

A roar tore through the air. He glanced back to see the dragon flying up into the sky.

"Keep running," he urged the damsel.

The dragon arced around towards them.

The duo ran still, Sir Edmund glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to track the beast.

When it went into a dive, he chose a large heap of rubble and dragged the damsel into that cover behind him.

A burst of flame made the air above them shimmer, and then the dragon passed overhead.

"You will not get far! Once you are out in the open, this tiresome pursuit shall end!"

Another pass resulted in much the same, Sir Edmund picking another bit of rubble to hide behind, the dragon unleashing its fire as it flew past above them.

As the dragon swept around to climb back into the sky after the second pass, the duo reached the outer wall of the keep, and slipped through.

Keeping his eyes on the skies, Sir Edmund led the damsel out towards the hill proper.

They were halfway towards the start of the downward path when another roar disrupted the quiet afternoon, the damsel wincing at the loud sound.

He took up his bow again.

"Can you really kill him?" she asked him. "A beast as great as this?"

"Every creature has its weaknesses, my lady. The skin of a dragon is nigh impenetrable, but you can kill it if you strike at its eyes."

"And you can?"

"If my arrow flies true. As it always does."

She was silent, but her breathing was heavy and quick.

"Either way, I suggest you take cover, lest his fire find you out in the open."

With a whimper, she hurried to the start of the downwards path and ducked around the corner. After a moment, she peered out nervously, and her eyes widened at what she saw.

He looked back to see the dragon diving towards him.

Taking a deep breath, he nocked an arrow.

Even from this distance, the red of those eyes was visible, fixed directly on him.

He aimed his bow.

The shadow that the beast cast was massive enough to shield him from the sun.

The bowstring twanged.

The arrow arced up towards the dragon, disappearing against that massive silhouette.

The dragon jerked suddenly in mid-air and let out a shriek of anger and pain.

Its trajectory turned sharply away from him, and another shriek followed.

The unfurled wings fluttered and snapped as the dragon fell, twisting in mid-air.

The formidable beast crashed to the ground, its bulk sending up a cloud of dust and dirt. A feeble groan came from it, and then with a twisting spasm, it died.

Silence fell for a few seconds.

"Is it...is it dead?" the damsel called over.

He kept his eyes on the carcass, watching for any signs of life.

"Yes," he finally answered once satisfied that the beast was dead.

The damsel waited as he jogged over to her, and together, they raced down the path hand in hand.

Finally, he was next to Shadowstride. The great stallion whickered nervously, so he ran a hand down its mane to soothe those bestial nerves.