Spirit Bear
Page 6
His heart beat seemed slower, his vision blurry. The venom flowed deeper into his body. Searching with his fingertips through the fabric of his bloody tunic, Rigel found the snake’s poison sac still pumping its venom into him. He pulled it out and threw it into the sizzling pool of black imp blood flowing from the creature’s head. Smoke formed around the poison sac, and it melted away.
Rigel scanned his arm and winced. Blood trickled like a small stream. If he didn’t die tonight, he would surely lose the arm. He gulped several deep breaths of air, and his dragon senses alerted him to the presence of another dragon.
In the dark night sky, the image of Exergence as a man shimmered in the air. He wore the armor of Kumeria: black as their evil hearts with the red Kumerian Dawnrise flower on the breastplate.
With sweat pouring down his face, Rigel struggled to stand. He leaned against the tower wall for support. Even though he wanted to sink down to his knees, he would never humble himself before Exergence. Rigel would never join forces against King Sauris as some of the other dragonlords had, betraying their king and the Creator.
Recently, three dragonlords had declared their allegiance to Exergence, the king's demented and evil brother. This act of treason had torn the country asunder, and civil war loomed, threatening the once peaceful world. Darkness and evil would plague the land as it once had in the years past.
“Lord Maddoc, may you die in pain. Your death will be a most welcomed Solstice present to me.” His sinister voice deep and proud.
Rigel wouldn’t die as a man. The dragon-within his soul rose up on its hind feet, ready for battle.
"I'm not dead—yet." Sweat dripped into Rigel's eyes stinging, then briefly blinding himself as he blinked it away. His arm hung limply by his side.
“Yet—being the word of choice here.”
“Curse you Exergence!”
“I’ve always been a cursed dragon. It’s something we have in common.”
Rigel inhaled, the sickening decaying smell from the imp’s blood lingered in the air as if marking the castle with death. He had to shift one last time to protect his people. Kumerian soldiers could attack unsuspecting helpless villagers as they waited for the yearly lighting of the Yule log by Rigel.
Pain like a sword blade cutting plunged through his head. The dragon-within prepared for the change.
He called upon the magic for the transformation from man to beast. He could shift. He would shift into a dragon.
He waited for the dragon’s flint of fire to coalesce in his lungs for a surge of hellfire flame. Nothing. He remained a man.
Stunned, Rigel couldn’t move.
“Lord Maddoc, tell me. When you are dying is your soul more dragon or man?”
A blinding light formed around Exergence. Rigel shielded his eyes with his good arm. When he lowered his hands—a black dragon glowered.
Hate filled Rigel. Flames scorched his lungs. He spouted fire. Exhaling, Rigel released a plume of fire that blazed the Maddoc banner and the image of Exergence.
The world blurred. A layer of hazy air made the dark dragon's image shimmer. The stars once pinpoints of light became wavy. Rigel moved away from the cloud. The blast of fire had drained him of his remaining strength.
Shouting men surrounded him.
He stared at his brother, Caspian bellowing, “Exergence.” The image of the dragon dissipated, but his laughter carried on the wind.
Caspian ran to Rigel’s side. “He’s gone, brother.”
Rigel couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. His mouth was numbed by the venom as well as the rest of his body. He surrendered to the immobilization and watched the events unfolding around him. He awaited the Creator’s cloak of death. The sound of the ocean waves washing up on the shore below offered him comfort rather than despair.
Caspian’s lifted his chin. “You cannot die.”
Rigel regretted leaving his brother alone to protect the land and the people of Astria, but he could not fight the venom much longer. A memory floated to him. The image of a little girl of five wielding a sword. He heard her laughter in the air.
“When we’re married, you won’t be able to use a sword.” The young lad ran away.
He’d been the lad.
Samantha ran after him flourishing her sword high in the air. “Yes, I will. I’ll show you.”
That little girl had been decreed his lifemate by the Crone of Wyvareth. That little girl would be five and twenty years: a woman grown. So much for that prophesy. Would the Creator permit Rigel a glimpse of Samantha before his soul journeyed onward?
His brother began the summoning spell for the Crone of Wyvareth. What could she do for Rigel? But would she come to Caspian’s plea?
Rigel closed his eyes, and sank into darkness.
The screech of Dvang birds reverberated around the tower, awakening Rigel from his unconsciousness. I’m alive. He opened his eyes
“Yes, we are.” The dragon-within answered. “We will not die, not today. Not like this.”
Imps rode the leathery creatures into an attack. For what seemed like an eternity the numerous twangs of his archers’ bows rang in Rigel’s ears.
The shrieks of the Dvang birds weren’t as loud. One of his men ran up to Caspian. “Milord, the imps are retreating.”
Rigel wanted to respond, but he couldn’t speak. He summoned the dragon-within to wield the magic. They had to fight to save the castle. They would die fighting.
His brother nodded. “Keep watch. They may return with reinforcements.”
The sickeningly sweet smell of Kumerian Dawnrise flowers carried on the wind. He tried to speak to his brother. Deep, deep inside, warmth began to build like a weak fire. His right index finger twitched.
Beware. His dragon senses alerted him to the presence of another dragon.
Exergence’s voice echoed in the night, “Die, Lord Maddoc. In seven sun sets, I will celebrate my victory at the Solstice in Silverthrain. I will sit upon my brother’s throne, and I will rule Wyvareth.”
About the Author
M.J. Waverly writes quirky shifter romance and cozy supernatural mysteries. Check out her website at www.mjwaverly.com
If you want to read more about the goddess Artemis and how she celebrates the holidays. Check out this free short story, Season’s Greetings
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M J Waverly, Spirit Bear