The Orc kicks his foot against the Fangol’s side. It jumps slightly in surprise, taking its eyes off Nova for a moment and silencing his growl.
Nova goes into a lower defensive crouch, determining that if anything attacks it will be surprised by the agility of a snow leopard.
The Fangol turns again, growling and ignoring the several kicks the Orc plants against its side. The Orc’s mount takes predatory steps toward Nova, and doesn’t flinch when the Orc pulls hard on its reigns. About an inch away from Nova’s face, the Fangol attacks her hiding place.
Nova is swift, jumping just a split second before the Fangol lunges. The action is quick, taking her thoughts away from the shape shifting spell and thereby releasing the magic that reveals her true form to the army. Her violet crystals glow brightly as she flips in mid-air, planting her paws on the back of the Fangol’s head. She pushes off its head, outstretching and thrusting her claws against the chest of the Orc. He yells some type of ghostly scream and pulls hard on the reigns, trying to keep himself from falling. The Fangol loses its balance from the Orc’s hard pull, toppling on its side, landing hard on top of the Orc. The Orc, now trapped, gives a war cry to those who haven’t already seen what happened.
By now, Nova is a few leopard lengths away from the fallen Fangol and the trapped Orc, and speeds off, fleeing the scene.
But it’s too late. She’s been exposed, and many Fangols give chase.
To Nova’s surprise, Fangol’s are everywhere, zigzagging in hot pursuit. When one is close enough to rake her with its horns, she either flips into the air and twists, or simply leaps over it, making them all miss her each and every time.
There is too many of them to use her magic and she knows she has to rely upon her training, great speed and quick reflexes. The guard was right though, these animals are dangerous, far more than she had expected.
Regardless, she has to get to the castle.
Suddenly a Fangol comes running at her with his horns low to ram a sharp point through her skull.
Not hesitating and running faster toward the oncoming creature, she kicks up some dust as they are about to collide. Then she sees it—an opening. The Fangol’s head is low, but not quite low enough.
Sliding across the dirt, she turns with her back legs pointing toward the grotesque monster, and then easily slips under its chin; undercutting the Fangol’s legs, forcing it to topple over and smash against another Fangol hot on Nova’s heels. This causes a stir amongst the Fangols, creating confusion and chaos.
Able to escape and peering over her shoulder, Nova observes the two collided Fangol’s fighting ferociously as other Fangols jump into the fray. Farther off, she notices that the other Orcs have stopped the rest of the Fangols from joining the fracas by somehow bringing them back in line and not giving chase. They obviously view Nova as no more than a nuisance, instead of a legitimate threat.
Continuing to run, Nova can see the red castle up ahead. It’s built on a slight incline, surrounded by a sparse copse of trees. It’s a large castle, and if it wasn’t built for a dragon it was definitely fit for one. The Keep, the main inner stronghold of the castle, is also large. Nova decides that if the dragon is anywhere, it has to be in there. High in the sky, green flags torn from a battle long ago are waving from poles at the highest points of the red castle. Although frayed, a black insignia embroidered on each of the flags can still be seen—a fist holding an arrow. Nova can tell that this castle was created by a proud people.
The castle’s drawbridge is down, and as she places her paws on it she hears the creaking of damp wood through heavy snow with each of her steps. Several wooden splinters protrude through the snow, causing Nova to take calculated, accurate steps until she reaches hard ground just beyond the entrance. She is in the bailey, a large courtyard behind the castle walls. She can tell it hasn’t been touched for who knows how long. Weeds grow between the aged bricks covering the courtyard, and old broken carts are sprinkled about. She eyes the surrounding towers, wondering if a dragon could somehow fit into any of them. Deciding otherwise, she views the main building. Shaking her head, she silently walks to the Keep.
The door is missing, allowing her to peer inside without the nuisance of a squeaky door announcing her presence to anyone in the vicinity, such as a dragon. She enters the huge room and sees the door lying on the ground, half burnt. Dragon sign.
The Keep is wide and long. On the east and west side of it are two spiral staircases leading up to a second level. She stares ahead, noticing a circular hole in the back wall of the Keep. This must be where the dragon broke the wall’s hold, giving it an entrance and exit.
Below the big hole is a pile of gold that could make an entire kingdom’s inhabitants rich. The ceiling above her is a bit low, maybe ten leopard lengths high, but just a couple of paces forward it quadruples in height.
She speaks loudly. “I’m here to speak to the dragon. Please show yourself!”
Nothing happens.
She takes a couple of breaths and looks around. The silence is oppressive and she feels an eeriness that tells her something, or someone, is waiting somewhere in the shadows.
Nova looks up. Hanging upside down from a thick glass dome built into the pinnacle of the Keep’s ceiling is a huge dragon, red in color, with yellowish green eyes shining down at her. The dragon’s bat-like wings open. It lets go of its grip and roars as it spins, free falling downward. It hits the ground with a giant thud and the castle Keep shakes and the gold pieces clink in the pile behind the dragon.
Nova stands unflinchingly, only a couple of paw lengths from the dragon’s front claws. But, she moves backwards slightly, hoping to give the big creature some space—a show of respect. In truth it was, but for this dragon it is a sign of cowardice.
The dragon bends down and sniffs Nova’s head. She feels steamy heat coming from its nostrils as it clears its throat, the sound echoing through the hollows of the stone castle. Then the dragon rears its head high in the air and demands, “Who are you?”
Nova dips her head in gratitude. “I’m Nova, the VioletLight of the PureLight Lineage. I’m here to help the humans repel the negative beasts coming their way.”
The dragon takes a deep breath, straightens himself and puffs out his chest. For a moment, Nova wonders if fire is going to rain down on her, but a deep resounding laugh fills the Keep instead. “You help the humans? They truly are desperate.”
Ignoring the insult, Nova continues. “I’ve come for your services, Attor.”
The dragon’s eyes grow wide, shocked that she knows his name, for a dragon tells only its closest confidants its name. And their confidants are always few and far between, or non-existent. A dragon’s name is a secret kept by a dragon, usually until death, for it is the last word it will ever speak.
He draws his head close to Nova’s and demands, “Who gave you my name?”
“Aldoren, the prince of Elves.”
The dragon scratches his bottom chin, “Ahhh, Aldoren. My friend.” He looks as if remembering a happy time in his life. Then his eyes turn to rage. “The elves pose no threat to a dragon. ..nay! Humans, though…” he pauses, shaking his head up and down. “…take great pleasure in murdering my kind!” The last words resound against the walls, almost deafening Nova. Then he takes a deep breath and exhales fire.
Nova quickly jumps out of the way. The floor where she had stood is blackened char with wisps of smoke rising from it. Then Attor turns and leaps, hoping to smash Nova under his clawed feet. Instead, he is violently slammed against the wall, as if an unseen, invisible force struck him.