Sweat stung his eyes like a nasty bee but even that couldn’t be compared to the dozen injuries sustained underneath his armour. He’d speared into the king, knocking him down away from an enemy fireball which ended up destroying one of their wooden catapults. The ringing was still loud in his ears, his eyes were heavy and the dust, unsettled. He could hear the muffled screams of men, beasts groaning, swords clashing and arrows streaking the air.
The chaotic field was reddish yellow, owing to the raging flames all around. A giant shadow traveled over his body as the enemy’s dragon roared in the sky. That beast had caused enough damage already.
The foul stench of death filled the dust-choked air, intermixed with the smell of burning flesh. The surrounding was marked by a fierce whirlwind of disorder, violence, and a rapid blur of vicious motion. Horses whose riders had been put down fled the battlefield aimlessly, some met their end by flying arrows, others by an enemy’s blade.
He could have taken a pike to the chest if he wasn’t fast enough to have cut across its shaft with his sword. The ground trembled when one of the enemies’ bulls was released into the field of battle. It charged in head first, goring anyone and anything in its paths, friends and foe alike. The mindless beast on rampage came at him violently and just as violently, he seized it by the horn with one hand and hopped onto its back.
The king had wondered about the Identity of this warrior who had saved his life. If eventually, they won this war against the Talanites, he would most definitely honour the young man whose body armour and silver-plated helmet made it impossible to recognise. The bull tried to shake him off with ferocious limps that arbitrarily raised its fore and hind legs but the warrior held on to its horns.
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For a while, he struggled to prove to his new ride that he was now in control and after that fact was established, the bull bent to his will. Bodies clashed and howled amidst a sea of blood drained from these violent men. The Talanites, those savages who terrorized the Xenon empire for years, had finally waged war to possess the land of Xenon by force. But the Xenons had proven to be a force to reckon with.
Their defenses were systematic which made it difficult to penetrate their castle. The Talanites had the numbers, they had the mightiest warriors, the biggest arsenal, and the most dangerous beasts. But the Xenons, however small in number, had the smartest, the fastest, and the most skilled fighters in the entire seven kingdoms.
The brave Xenon warrior bent over to a side and scratched off the ground his nation’s banner while the bull was still in motion. He held it up high as he rode the enemy’s beast around the battlefield, taking down his opponents. Xenons who were initially losing the fight had their spirits lifted. He plunged the pointy base of the banner into the heart of an opponent.
The bull raised its forelegs, balanced for a moment on its hind shank as the warrior planted the banner into the ground through the previous opponent’s chest. The sight of their flag standing once again, waving in the wind empowered them to fight even more aggressively. The king stood amazed in his golden armour and a white cape that was fluttering behind him.
His next target was the enemy’s biggest weapon, the giant dragon and he’d sworn to take it down or die trying. He whipped the bull and it galloped faster toward the dragon that was hovering in the sky by the west of the field. With its horns as his steering wheel, he was able to navigate the bull in any direction. Using a crossbow, he aimed at the winged creature which was at the time breathing down fire on his comrades. A grappling hook shot out of his weapon, whooshing through the air with the speed of sound. Seconds later, the creature roared in pain as it lost its balance. One of its wings was punctured badly. The warrior could tell by the sound of the roar and the way it looked down instantly at him that he’d wounded it. He smirked.
With the thick arrowhead of the grappling hook inside its heavy wing and the tail end of it in the warrior’s hold, the dragon took off angrily, dragging him along with it. He fell off the bull and was roughly pulled into the dirt of the ground. He could have let go of the crossbow but did not. The trail of his body lined the field until he gained balance on his feet, sliding through and over obstacles.
The dragon realized that he was relentless and the solid ground was his aid therefore, it flew higher into the clouds. The warrior hung on tight, dangling off the cable of his crossbow beneath the creature. The field was now miles below him and the warriors looked like nothing but a colony of ants from that height. After a short travel, he was flung carelessly onto the summit of a hill where he tumbled over and over until he gained a grip on himself. Grunting as he rose to his feet the young warrior faced the dragon one-on-one.
It landed with a powerful stomp that shook the hill. Stretching out its long scaled neck, the dragon shrieked in his face and he did not so much as flinch or move a muscle. The wind from the wide mouth of the beast was so powerful that he had to plant his feet on the ground in order to stand firm. His helmet which almost completely covered his face shielded him from direct contact with the particles of blood and flesh which came with the dragon’s breath.
He was covered in dirt, his arm was bleeding, and his face was bruised from the pull that roughened him up. He’d taken off his body armour, for the weight wasn’t helping. There, before the ten-foot black dragon, he stood, taking the stance of a fearless warrior after the fire breather had set the surroundings ablaze. He could feel the heat of the raging flames, the steaming burns of the melted rocks around him and soon sweat damped his skin.
With heavy pants, he wielded his shield tightly and glared into the yellow eyes of the beast. It flapped its giant wings a couple of times then shrieked as it targeted its fire at the warrior. His feet, firmly planted to the ground, one, strategically behind the other began slipping backward over the grass beneath his boots even as he hid behind the shield he had held up strongly in front of him.
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The king, haven seen where the dragon had taken the boy, riding his armoured white horse up the hill to save him.
The gauntlet on his left arm and the gloves that covered his fingers could not protect the hand wielding the shield. Pressure from the emitting flame pressing against his shield glued the shield to his hand. He could smell his own flesh fizzling like meat in hot oil. His gauntlet and gloves had burned, and now so was the back of his bare hand. He wailed. The shield, red hot, had parted the flames protecting him from direct contact.
He struggled to advance forward but the force was too strong, it kept on pushing him back, almost off the hill. In that intense moment, in that tight position, he sighted his sword which was previously clanked away during the fall. It was laying just a few paces away. Instantly, he took the risk of somersaulting beneath the flames and toward the sword, scratching the weapon off the ground in a heartbeat. He ducked, sliding underneath the beast as he struck its talon-like feet, large and rough.
The dragon growled, stomping hard, causing the hill to rumble with each limp, all in an attempt to trample upon him like a bug. He grunted, maneuvering amidst its heavy treads until he was out from beneath it. The dragon waddled its long tail covered in scales, and knocked him off at least three feet away. His silver helmet fell out of his head in the process, and that was when the king arrived. He pulled back the rein of his horse and it neighed and came to a halt as the king unmounted it.
He watched from behind as the warrior’s long hair fell loosely on his back. As he glanced unconsciously toward the horse rider, the king saw his face, clear as day. It was his daughter Ara. At that moment, he stood frozen and speechless. He wasn’t certain of his feelings, whether he was angry or proud. He’d forbidden her from ever wielding the sword since she developed an interest in fighting from the age of six. She’d begged him to allow her to fight in this war but he blatantly refused for her own sake. He wondered where she learned to fight like that.
She groaned at her aches, and suddenly rolled away from a mighty whip of the dragon’s large tail. The impact cracked the ground. Reaching for her sword, she struck, dismembering the tip of its tail which forced it to groan deeply and retaliate with a nudge that she leaped away from. While in the air, she swung her blade taking a horn off its head. The beast wailed in tremendous pain as it bled dangerously on its head and tail.
The warrior smirked, watching it stagger helplessly. She rushed at it, stepped on a rock, and jumped to a height a few feet above ground level. A moment later she landed on the back of the dragon, there, she hacked off its wings, one after the other with precise strikes. It gave out a loud cry and fell. Blood spilled on her, sprouting out of the wounded beast. Its amputated wings were still flapping continuously on the grass.
Triumphantly, she advanced toward it knowing this was her moment of victory. Her sword had fallen. The hilt was on the turf but the blade rested upon a stone, keeping it itches above the topsoil. She stepped a foot on the smooth side of the blade and the sword rose aloft her head, flipping and slashing the thin air before she caught the hilt in her hand. And with a loud bellow, she severed the neck of the roaring dragon, separating it from the rest of its body. The head rolled away to her father’s feet. Blood flowed like a river.
She turned to him, panting. A smile of relief brightened her mood after he beamed a proud grin at her.
She slew the mighty dragon and put its head on a stake so everyone could see. The Talanites fled after they’d lost but the Xenons pursued and killed every last one of them. Her reputation traveled far across the four corners of the earth. Tales of her bravery and courage were told to inspire people, especially women. She was known as the Dragon Slayer, others called her the Tamer of Beasts given that she rode the ferocious Talanite Bull and taught others to do so. Her name,…was, Ara. And she was the Warrior Angel.
Author: Samuel Francis
Great job, amazing storyline
Thank you very much
A good story it is, painting a whole lot of imaginary images in one’s head,loveeeeee it💗👍
I appreciate the enthusiasm, dear.