Stay strong...

My enterie for the fantasie competition!!! xoox :D

Amelia is strong, beautiful, wise and modest. She is also soft, forgiving and weak. But the night her family dies, everything changes. She will kill the dragons, if its the last thing she does.


6. Blazerath

Still wearing my golden gown (It would not handicap me: I was used to battling in dresses, due to lack of resources) I waited at the alter of the most famous church in the kingdom. Ruined, as an example of those whom chose God over the rule of dragons. I despised them. I drew a cross silently on my chest, in respect, an apology for the dead dragon (Blazeraths second in command) that lay at my feet. I had been camping out in the trees near by, hunting animals in the forest for almost a month. Even though I knew it was foolish, I had become attached to this lonely but wonderful place. I loved that the church still looked splendid and proud, even when half torn to the ground. The church also reminded me of my old church and the windows reminded me of my sketches. If I died here... it would be the closest to dying at my home I could get.

He came so quickly yet so slowly, when I first saw him every thing went in slow motion. I pulled out my sharp, but beautiful silver dagger from its leather sheath, strapped to my ankle, noticing every detail in amazing clarity... His wings were fanned out, bony joints holding together the folds of withered ruby skin, that kept him a flight. His face was beautiful, eyes a brilliant yellow, teeth bloody and evil, every thing about him screamed power: from his massive frame, to the spiralling pattern that framed his chiselled features. The flames that licked his ruddy red body, that looked as if it were encrusted in murky ruby's, roared ferociously, making my my body break into a light sweat. The flames were casting ghostly flickers of shadows upon his fathomless yellow eyes...They held me still with more force than the iron talons, that were now curled round my bleeding arms. Without me noticing he had landed and approached me... all in the blink of an eye. I was awe struck of my worthy opponent.

His eyes pierced into the depths of my soul, and stopped the quickened beating of my heart completely, making each of my pitiful ,shallow breathes catch in my  throat. His wings were humongous and they surrounded me, leaving me no escape.The crackling fire, that surrounded the creatures broad chest and wings caressed my seared cheeks, as a cat would tease its pray. Then the heavens opened, and all of a sudden I was surrounded by water. But it was not strong enough to put out the  fire surrounding me but it gave me an advantage.The only coolness I felt was the icy rain drops,  that now slid down my charcoaled face, timidly awaiting their own fiery death. Fear held me still, my eyes never leaving the fiery depths of which were his. I needed to pull myself together.

"So you are the mischeif maker? you think your special, but many have tried to confront me before! what makes you so different-" I did not hesitate, finally using my glorious dagger, I plunged it into his side, I was not  feeling very verbose at the moment. He dodged my blow with inhuman speed as his temper flared, but gleefully I realised I had hit him, as I saw the blood drip down his side... then heal. What? heal? That had never happened before! The pouring rain made it hard to see but it had defiantly healed... What had I got myself into? I tried not to show my confusion... how could I kill an immortal creature? I had never heard of this at all, in all of my research... I shook my head, almost resigned. Almost. I lunged again like a panther- lethal and graceful, moving with the deadliest precision, that came from years of practice. Trying to catch him of guard... but to no avail. I lunged backwards and forwards endlessly, narrowly avoiding his claws, never coming close to my target. Panting and caved-in,I desperately drew back gasping for breath- he should have killed me then.

"how about we even the fight?" He laughed instead, humiliating me. He shrunk down into human form... Matty? Matty now stood before me. Healthy, tan skin. Golden eyes, that were always playful. Tall and well-built. But now he was all grown up. I felt winded. This is what he would have been like if he had not died... I could of married him. He had striking cheek bones and heavy eyebrows, making him look gorgeous and mysterious. I felt some thing towards him I had never felt before, attraction? If only he had lived... if only...

"Matty?" I shook myself, no- he had died in the flames that haunted my terrible past. Blazerath  was using my emotions against me. I was infuriated: woman hath endless fury.

"AAAHHHH" My warriers cry, even made him cower, but in the blink of an eye he was laughing. I was not fooled. 

I swung low, my hips swivelling round, so my right leg could knock him off his feet. He fell back confused, but pushed him self up with inhuman force, before he could be damaged by the impact. He was weaker as a human and I would not give him a chance to shape shift back- shape shifting had been a big mistake. Before he could regain himself, I pushed my flat palm towards his chest, with all my strength and anger, effortlessly knocking him back again. I straightened my back leg and stepped back regaining my earlier warier stance, no longer breathless as the adrenaline kicked in.

We sliced away at each other mercilessly for what seemed like forever, but I never felt the flowing cuts that lined my arms on body. All of his cuts were all healing and I knew I needed more time to think this through. I unexpectedly swung my body round, my hands barely gliding across the silky wet floor, ribboned with streams of red. My long, muscled leg straight like a ballerina and my hair flying around my face... As my leg, barely reaching, came in contact with his bruised face (he could defiantly bruise) he was caught of balance, and fell. He growled inhumanly, jumping back up as I knew he would. Big mistake. I knew he would take more than that to kill and I was outnumbered... But if I played this right, I would have the advantage.

Instead of drawing back and wheezing (That would be too obvious) I smiled confidently, as if I had won, "Do you give up? I bet you didn't excpect that!" I spouted childish nonsense and he threw back his head laughing, "You-" The slice of my blade echoed in the silence. The sharpness took a moment to penetrate the skin but soon blood was weeping from the cut, trickeling down his heaving body. He fell to the floor in agony, but even I could see the deep gash in his stony neck trying to heal its self. I wasn't fooled.

Some thing deep within me stirred, and suddenly I was repeating the Prophecy, I had long ago forgot: 

"Heart as black as opponents intentions,

killer will posses no chance of redemption,

because only once the killer is killed,

may the kingdom redeem its glory...

So only will we be rid of curse,

if the killer is selfless and righteous,

for they must draw back the blade,

that killed the dragon,

and therefore,

kill themselves."

The prophecy was now complete in my head, but the words that left my mouth I never fully understood, for I drew back my blade, laced with dragon blood, and pierced it through my own heart. Shining light surrounded me, silvery and white at the same time, it only stayed a few moments before my vision faded. I fell too the floor painlessly, blood was pooling from my chest, my golden gown ruined, my dagger was still in my hand and I released it. I did not need it any more. I looked towards the grey sky... it was quite beautiful, wait. Where was I? oh, yes. I was laying on the floor of the beautiful, ruined church, that I adored, water splashing my face, thunder overpowering the feeble moans of Blazerath. Blazerath. I put all my effort into turning my head. He was back in dragon form, his head limp and his cut still a waterfall of blood. He was dead... I had killed him. I tryed to process it. he. was. dead... yes. I finally understood what that meant.

I was the hero, a savour, but I didn't care. As long as my Kingdom was free. I realised something with a start, the prophecy was about me! I remembered praying for the hero to survive, the dreadful night my family died.... my sister had known! I lay there startled. She had always had so much faith in me. And I had done as she had said. I had been strong. Not in body... but in soul. I was proud of myself. I would not be remembered as a strong, merciless hero, but I knew in my heart... as a wistful daydreamer. For at heart, I always was and always will be. And for the first time in six years... I actually smiled.


The end.


Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...