A Selfless Sacrifice

by Paul Cude

  A Selfless Sacrifice

  Paul Cude

  Copyright © 2021 by Paul Cude

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  About the Author

  Also by Paul Cude

  Prologue

  Twenty thousand years ago the planet only vaguely resembled what it is today. The geography, climate and politics were very different, with the height of the humans’ talent expressing itself in rudimentary cave paintings and the occasional grunt here and there, making their mark as only the odd snack or two for something much larger. In the bigger picture, they as a species were barely noticeable as the world continued to be dominated by the most mighty apex predator of them all... DRAGONS!

  1

  A SELFLESS SACRIFICE

  Glancing back over his shoulder, the ache in the pit of his stomach trebled when he realised the trouble he was in. What looked like another fifty adversaries had popped up on the horizon in every conceivable shade, rapidly closing in on his position, belching fireballs, baring their razor sharp teeth, all offering angry snarls and withering looks, desperate to get their claws and talons into him.

  Banking back away from them, soaking up the sun through the crystal clear blue sky, reflecting on a brief moment of perfection, with the rays warming his radiant cranberry coloured wings, the briefest tinge of fear tickled the innards of his mind.

  ‘Will this be it?’ he thought wistfully. ‘Have I finally bitten off more than I can chew?’ That would be ironic given his love of trying to eat livestock whole. About to use his considerable will to push the negativity aside, the need to do so vanished as an image materialised inside his head, taking over everything. Instantly he recognised the massive grey and desolate rocky outcrop on the far side of the forest, the one that must have extended out beyond a thousand wingspans, the entrance the craggy overhang often used as an emergency shelter in the case of unexpected electrical storms, something no dragon ever wishes to find his or herself trapped in.

  Pulled into the picture in his mind, a will he immediately recognised flooded his body, urging him with everything it had to fly into the darkened entrance below the menacing outcrop. Swallowing nervously as he cut through the warm summer air, the wind tickling the scales on the underside of his regal belly and the length of his humungous tail as he pumped his powerful wings, the realisation of just how badly outnumbered he was left him in no doubt about his options. And so in a leap of faith, one not totally unfamiliar to him, he gracefully plunged down towards the top of the lush green canopy below in the hope that just maybe he could buy himself enough time to reach the proffered destination.

  Landing with an almighty THUD at the opposite end of the forest on the bleak, rocky outcrop, For’son’s legs nearly crumpled under the massive strain of his gigantic prehistoric body, the gleaming white talons that marked him out as extraordinary ripping the harsh ground apart. Shaking off the day’s fatigue, the sense of urgency that had previously threatened to overwhelm him came back with a vengeance, concern for his friend rearing its ugly head like a yeti in a snowstorm. With no time to lose, and knowing that he had to get this just right, the bright intelligent spark within him started running calculations on where he needed to start, the depth to which he had to go, and just how long it would take him to chew up the material above the outcrop with his talons alone. Almost immediately a conclusion was reached. And it wasn’t a positive one. The distance was too far, by quite some way, meaning that he’d never do it in time. Well, not using only his physical prowess. And so there was only ever going to be one solution... MAGIC!

  Searching the vast repository of mantras (that’s a spell, hex or enchantment to you or me) in his brain, faster than a present day supercomputer could beat a novice at a game of chess, the valiant dragon hero selected something suitable that he hoped would do the trick. Scaled eyelids falling silently shut he closed off his mind, applied his indomitable will, and inside his head, whispered the words, “Proferet lava pedes.”

  Roughly translating as ‘bring forth lava feet’, a deep sense of satisfaction washed over him as a tentative heat blossomed out from around the end of his legs. Arching his prodigious neck, unable to do anything but use his giant monster of a head to look down, even though he’d done it once before, the sight of his previously bright, white talons now swirling in shades of orange, red and yellow, steam rising off them still startled him somewhat. That is until the tiniest nip at the back of his mind served as a reminder of what he was supposed to be doing. With minute adjustments to the complicated equations that he’d already formulated, immediately he picked two spots, planted his talons firmly down and watched wide-eyed as they just sunk into the thick grey stone, melting it instantly. Straining the muscles in his enormous legs, almost to breaking point, while keeping what were effectively his toes buried into the rock, he thrust down his wings with all the force he could muster and started to propel himself forward. Molten magma in the exact shape of his previously white talons carved through the thick, untouched rock on top of the overhang in much the same way a hot knife would slice its way through butter. With every flap of his wings, he moved faster, ever closer to the forest his friend was now flying over.

  Not needing to even look back over his shoulders, he knew without a doubt that they were gaining on him, his finely honed magical senses feeling their every movement, aware of just how many there were and how they were closing in all around. Staving off the panic of getting caught, dodging the odd far ranged fireball and explosive magical attack here, and the occasional mental assault there, he knew without a doubt that something had to change for him to be able to make it as far as the dark and mysterious entrance to the outcrop. What to do though, that was the question.

  It was then that the feeling of leaves from the tree canopy prickled the sensitive scales on his underbelly, forcing him up a metre or so. Annoyed at not paying enough attention to his flying, thoughts focused on the trees themselves, it was then that the light bulb moment struck, something that he was immediately grateful for.

  Pushing aside thoughts of just how many pursuers there were, instinctively he dipped into his somewhat depleted well of mana, or his magical reserves as he liked to think of it, and stretching out with his mind, set out to find something which might at least buy him a little leeway.

  Sensing the upper canopy, the leaves of the trees violently rustling in his wake, caterpillars clinging on for dear life, birds scattering into the air, the supernatural within him pushed on, brushing against the rough brown bark of the trunks all lined up like soldiers on parade.

  ‘Almost there,’ he thought, knowing how close he now was.

  Giving it all he had, lush green grass swam into view, thinly bent blades looking like giant skyscrapers as his mind nose-dived past them, decomposing leaves and animal droppings, into the densely packed, rich brown earth. Ignoring sleeping earthworms and bustling ants, still the power within him pushed on, until that is, it found exactly what it was looking for... a confusing tangle of life. That’s right, he’d reached the root system of all the trees, the writhing mass of tendrils twisting and turning beneath the ground, drawing nutrients and surprisingly, to him anyway, communicating with one another. Momentarily this made him reconsider what he had planned, unfortunately though, there was no going back and his need was great. They’d be on him in a matter of moments. If he didn’t act now, he’d be a goner for sure. Apologising to the
forest as a whole, well... in his mind at least, he gripped the roots of one of the massive pine trees and applying some of his will, with just a thought, ripped the monstrous plant out of the ground, propelling it skyward like the launch of a rocket.

  BOOM! In one swift stroke it shot right up through the underbelly of the closest dragon to him, the tip bursting through the dull yellow coloured scales of his back, instantly rendering him dead. With no time to watch the skewered monster fall clumsily to the ground, his mind still firmly focused on the job, he gripped yet another set of roots, sending that pine rocketing skyward, and then the next and the next until, in his wake, all you could see was a forest of trees, all hurtling through the air, pounding prehistoric bodies, piercing wings, shattering bones, destroying skulls. He lost count after sending twenty pines shooting up into the cool, fresh air, each of them hitting their mark, decimating nearly half of the force chasing after him, causing those remaining to fall back in fear.

  Returning all his concentration to flying, once again brushing dangerously close to the top of the trees that he’d just used as weapons, head spinning from the over use of his magic, the dragon king, for that’s who he was, streaked ever onward towards the overhang that he was being guided towards at quite a dizzying rate, temporarily able to breathe a sigh of relief.

  Reaching the end of the rocky overhang, able to look out over the sea of green that was the forest below him, For’son turned back to admire his work. Looking like a railway line without sleepers embedded into the rock itself, the two parallel lines disappeared off into the distance as far as the eye could see, substantially weakening the structure, something that he hoped would play right into their hands.

  ‘And not a moment too soon,’ he mused, spotting his friend far off in the distance, against the background of brilliant green trees shooting up into the air.

  ‘Ohhh... nice. I like that one. I must remember to get you to teach it to me when this is all over,’ he thought.

  Lingering for but a moment longer, admiring everything about his friend, the dragon king and one of the fiercest warriors on the planet, For’son’s sense of the moment finally kicked in. Satisfied with his work up until now, he swung down over the far side of the outcrop, a perfect place to hide from the onrushing dragons, and still using his molten magma talons, carved himself some footholds so that he could hang in place without being seen. Safely hidden, once again he reached out in search of his friend’s psyche and, upon finding it, showered it with the dark and lonely image of the sheltered entrance, hoping he would take the hint.

  There it was again, a perfect depiction of the cold and secluded entrance to the rock-strewn overhang blossoming to life right before his very eyes as he rallied against the pull of gravity on his huge, scaled, prehistoric body.

  ‘This had better work,’ thought the king, knowing that if it didn’t, there’d be no one around to answer for it. And so slightly reluctantly, he hissed through the air and closing fast, headed for the darkness that offered itself up, wondering where exactly his friend was in all of this, all the time aware that his attackers were gaining on him, their confidence increased as the forest transformed into rock.

  Clinging silently onto the shadowy stone face at the rear of the outcrop, all his magical senses effectively powered down, he didn’t need them to tell that his ploy had worked and his friend had darted at speed into the gap just big enough to support him beneath the overhang, his adversaries following hot on his tail one by one, as that’s the only way they could be accommodated inside the huge structure, the roar of their bodies and the wind in their wake assaulting not only his ears but the rest of him as well.

  Waiting until the last of them sped off into the dark, For’son leapt off the sheer wall that he clung to, and with one flap of his mighty wings, came down next to the parallel lines that he’d already cut on top of the outcrop. Knowing exactly how deep they were and sure of just how much they’d weakened the structure, the crafty dragon knew that it was now or never if he wanted to catch up with the rest of them. Bounding into the air, he took off only a metre or so above the rock, throwing up dust, pebbles and small boulders in his wake. Taking a deep breath, inundating it with that special feeling at the pit of his stomach, he exhaled as he sped along, blowing out a constant stream of fire in front of him, directly down at the lines he’d already cut into the rock. And that was enough. Enough for what, I hear you ask... Enough to collapse the overhang in on itself, its main support already weakened by his lava talons earlier.

  Pouring on as much speed as he could, focused solely on catching up with the murderous horde pursuing his friend and king, For’son cut through the very atoms of the air itself in his attempt to gain as much velocity as possible, the powerful muscles in his wings burning with agonising pain. Soaring along, roaring a crackling cone of orange, yellow, red and blue flame into the stony ground beneath him, a thunderous growl of rock collapsing in on itself got ever louder, bombarding the ears of the flying fortress For’son. But that was nothing to what was happening beneath him.

  As soon as he accelerated forward into the darkness, instinct kicked in, and he switched over to what he liked to think of as his ‘hunting at night vision’, something we would refer to now as infrared. Bringing to life the tightly fitting, narrow tunnel that he found himself trapped in, it was all he could do to fight back the claustrophobia that threatened to overwhelm him. After all, dragons like clear, open blue skies on days very much like today, with the sun beating down on their wings, basking their whole bodies, heating them up to their full potential. Stuck in a confined, dark space was far from ideal, and just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, the sound of rock crashing against rock from somewhere behind him in the distance echoed off the walls.

  ‘Damn,’ he reflected, now seeing what his friend was up to, ‘you and I really are going to have to have a chat about the recklessness of your schemes and whether or not it should be me being used as the bait.’

  With little choice but to increase the pace with which he was travelling, the tips of his wings already brushing against the rough stone walls on either side of him, the king cursed his luck, tried to apply as much power as he dared, attempted to zero in on the distant exit and concentrated on today’s bigger picture, well aware that victory was still a real possibility.

  Trapped, fearful of being in a darkened, confined space with absolutely no possibility of turning around, those dragons that had followed their prey into what they thought was a little hidey hole were only just realising the magnitude of their mistake as the stone ceiling started to collapse from somewhere back at the rear. Powered by sheer terror and the thought of dying in somewhere like this, those that remained alive gave everything they had in an effort to outrun the inevitable.

  Sweating profusely, throat red raw from the constant stream of fire he continued to focus on the rock below him, For’son, unencumbered by being out in the open, moved faster than any of those underground, easily catching his friend’s pursuers, bringing thousands of tonnes of rock down on them in just a few seconds. Only a matter of a hundred or so wingspans up ahead, he could feel the king in the lead, using all his knowledge of flight to stay out ahead, managing for now to outrun the crushing wave of debris that he was bringing down on the lot of them. Over two-thirds of the way through the entire length of the structure, it was only then, sensing the fear and sudden surge in speed by those chasing down his pal, that the audacious dragon above ground realised his mistake. He hadn’t bargained for their adversaries, in their terror induced states, ploughing everything they had into the speed they needed to catch up with their prey. With that sudden surge, there and then he knew that catching them up to finish them off, as he’d planned, just wouldn’t be possible. Improvising on the hoof, still zipping along at an alarmingly quick rate, For’son, not really wanting to distract the king from his already perilous state, figured that he now had no choice. Opening up his mind, he instantly found that of his friend, and ignoring all the us
ual formalities, spoke quickly and calmly.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve misjudged. I’ve taken out most of them, but the rest, maybe ten or so, will be upon you before I can finish them off. You’ll have to try and collapse it from the inside. Good luck!”

  ‘BRILLIANT!’ thought the king, his mind already working overtime, dodging out of the way of the occasional fissure here, the odd bump in the ground there, his enhanced vision only picking them up once he was upon them, that’s how fast he was travelling. Just when it seemed impossible for things to get any worse, his nagging sense of danger kicked in and he got a sense of precisely how close the enemy immediately behind him had gotten. CLOSE, that was for sure, almost within biting range. Not able to take his concentration or vision away from what he was doing because of the inevitable crash that would ensue, he had only one thought about what to do to extricate himself from this, the most impossible of positions, with even that being as daft as a brush. Offering up the briefest of prayers to the dragon king god, Idra, somewhere deep within his mind, he shook his head and in one all encompassing, startling move, rolled axially so that he became inverted, his belly now facing the ceiling instead of the floor. Caught by surprise, the malevolent beast behind him lost ground immediately, shocked at why a dragon would do that. Any moment now though, he was about to find out. Arching his long, taut scaled neck back as far as it would go so that he could just about see the way ahead still, the king, one of the finest warrior dragons to ever grace the planet, sucked in his breath and using just an inkling of his magical birthright, commanded the fire within him to come to life. Immediately it did, responding to his familiar touch, the blistering heat and flame racing up his oesophagus, into his mouth, the warmth tickling his sharp jagged teeth as he opened wide. In one large and loud belch, he spat the giant fireball out in front of him, which given his precarious position, meant straight into the ceiling of the tunnel he was flying upside down along. And just out of the corner of one eye, he got to see the fearful final look on his pursuer’s face, right before twelve tons of rock came descending down between the two of them.