Morgan Rice - A feast of dragons

He then spun again, drew his mace, and knocked a dagger from the hand of another attacker. He turned the mace sideways and smashed his attacker on the bridge of the nose with the wooden end, breaking his nose and knocking him to the ground.

Another knight charged with a hammer, Erec ducked low and punched him in the solo plexus with his gauntlet. The knight keeled over, dropping his hammer mid-swing.

Just one knight remained now opposite Erec, and the crowd jumped to its feet, cheering like mad, as they circled each other slowly. They were each breathing hard. All around them lay the unconscious bodies of the others who did not make it.

This final knight was from a province Erec did not recognize, wearing a bright red armor with spikes protruding from it, like a porcupine. He held a weapon that resembled a pitchfork, with three long prongs, painted a strange color that shimmered in the light and confused Erec. He jabbed it continually at the air, and it was hard for Erec to focus.

Suddenly he lunged, thrusting it, and Erec blocked the blow at the last second with his mace. The two of them locked in mid-air, pushing back and forth in a tug-of-war. Erec slipped on the blood of one of his opponents, and lost his footing.

Erec fell on his back, and his challenger wasted no time. He thrust his pitchfork right down for Erec’s face; Erec blocked it and held it back with the end of his mace. He managed to hold it at bay, but he was losing ground quickly.

The crowd gasped.

“YIELD!” the opponent screamed down.

Erec lay there, struggling, losing steam, when he saw Alistair’s face in his mind. He saw her expression when she looked into his eyes, when she asked him to win. And suddenly, he felt overcome with a new strength. He could not let himself lose. Not here. Not today.

With one final burst of strength, Erec rolled out of the way, pulling the pitchfork down and plunging it into the earth beside him. He rolled again and kicked the knight hard in the stomach. The knight fell to his knees, and Erec jumped to his feet and kicked him again, knocking him to his back.

The crowd roared.

Erec drew his dagger, knelt, and held it to the knight’s throat. He pushed the tip firmly against it, until the knight understood.

“I YIELD!” the knight yelled.

The crowd roared and screamed in delight.

Erec slowly stood, breathing hard.

He now had but one thing left on his mind.

Alistair.

Thor looked down in awe at the dragon’s footprint, sinking hundreds of feet into the earth, the size of a canyon. As the mist cleared down below, at its bottom, Thor spotted something. It was a cave, at the far end, and inside of it he thought he saw something gleaming. It sparkled, then disappeared in the mist.

“There,” Thor said, pointing. “Did you see that?”

The boys all squinted.

“I don’t see anything,” Elden said.

“I thought it sparkled,” Thor said.

“It could be the scepter,” Reese said.

All around them, dozens of Legion members appeared out of the mist, and one of them found a way down into the canyon, a steep ledge in the cliff. Thor and the others followed, Krohn with them, and they all began to descend, single file.

As they went the trail became steeper, and Thor soon found himself struggling to hold on for dear life as they descended ever deeper into the footprint of the dragon.

They finally reached the bottom and Thor looked up, wondering how they would ever get out.

Down here the floor was covered in fine, black sand, and as they walked, their feet sank into it. The dragon’s roar hadn’t come in a while, and all was eerily quiet. They were all on guard as they went, crossing the floor of the canyon towards the entrance to the cave. The mist cleared, and it became visible again.

“There!” Thor exclaimed.

The others saw it this time, a gleaming coming from inside.

“I see it,” Reese said.

They all proceeded towards the cave, the mist returning, and as they went, Thor had an increasingly ominous feeling. He could not help but feel as if they were being watched, as if they were heading deeper and deeper into the dragon’s lair. He hoped and prayed that they could find the scepter and get out of their quick.

Thor suddenly heard a familiar screeching noise, and he turned and craned his neck to the skies: there, flying high above, he was thrilled to see Ephistopheles. He hadn’t seen her in he hadn’t know how long. He wondered what she was doing here now. He could not help but feel as if she were warning him.

She screeched again, soaring in circles.

As the large group of Legion members converged on the cave, Thor turned and led the way. The world became black as they entered it, long icicles hanging from the ceiling, the sound of water dripping, of bats fluttering. As they walked inside, deeper and deeper, their voices reverberated, the whispers of Legion members on-edge. The only thing illuminating the cave was a sparkling light, not too far from the entrance, of a single object.

As the mist cleared, Thor finally saw what it was-and they all gasped.

There, sticking up from the ground, was the golden scepter. About three feet long, it shined and sparkled, casting off a light so bright it lit up most of the cave through the mist. All the legion members stopped in their tracks, clearly in awe. Thor could feel an intense energy radiating off of it, even from here.

“You saw it first,” Reese said to Thor. “You take it. Bring it back for the Legion.”

Thor stepped forward, the others following close behind, and knew he should feel relieved. They had found it. Now they could return. But for some reason, as he headed deeper into the cave, he felt more and more on edge. His senses kicked in, and some part of him he didn’t understand screamed to him that they were heading deeper into danger.

But with all the boys watching him, he could hardly turn back. He walked forward, reached out, and grabbed the scepter. He felt an electric thrill race through him as he clasped it. It was the most beautiful and powerful thing he had ever touched.

They all turned, hurried out from the cave, the boys crowding around Thor, getting a good look at it. There was relief in the air: their mission was over. Now they could go home. As one, the group shuffled outside the cave, prepared to leave this place.

But the moment they all stepped outside, their world changed. Out of nowhere, a horrific roar rose up, and as they all looked up, Thor saw the most terrifying sight of his life.

The dragon. It raised its head above the canyon, and glared down at them, and Thor had to wonder if this was real or just a nightmare. He had never seen a real dragon before-and he never thought he would live to see one. It was the largest and most terrifying thing he’d ever laid eyes upon. As it raised its long neck, its huge head towering over them, it blocked out the sun, casting a shadow over them all. Just one of its scales was bigger than Thor-and it was covered in thousands of them, reddish-green. It raised its two front legs, each as big as fifty men, and Thor could see its huge claws, three on each foot, reaching out to the heavens, each as sharp as a sword and as long as a tree.

Most terrifying of all, though, was its face, with its long, extended narrow jaw, and behind its open mouth, its rows and rows of teeth, each as large as a house, sharper than any weapon he had ever seen.

It threw its head back and roared, and the sound was enough to split a man in two.

Every single Legion member raised his hands to his ears, and Thor did the same, still clutching the scepter. The ground shook, and Thor felt as if his head would explode. Krohn whined and snarled.

When the dragon finished its roar, it lowered its head, pulled back its throat, opened its mouth and breathed.