Dragon Fyght – Part 3
I wanted my weekend to include a large amount of writing. However, I was presented with a singularly unique chance to see two of the most important people in my life. Seeing my friends more is one of the reasons why I work so hard at writing. As such, when fate offers up an adventure, I’m going to take it.
That having been said, I still need to make sure that I don’t fall into the trap of complacency. I can’t let myself keep pushing off the writing that I need to do. So much of what I’m trying to build requires me to produce work under the gun. Releasing work on a consistent schedule is mandatory if I am to be successful at this. I am working for myself, even if I am looking at having a day job on top of it. The first person I need to pay is myself. It’s hard, because I’ve never been good at heeding a schedule of my own volition. I did terribly in both high school and college because of my inability to work within a time frame. To ask that of myself now will require growth well outside of my comfort zone.
It’s not all doom and gloom though. As I’ve tried to develop a schedule for myself, I’ve begun working on one with my son. We have things that we do on a consistent basis now, such as brushing our teeth upon waking up or going to bed. We also have a shower routine, and a set nap time. It’s been beneficial for both of us. I only hope I can help him avoid the problems that have caused me such grief. I think that is the nost sincere wish of all parents.
Without further parental wishes…
Dragon Fyght – Part 3
A rush of sand, a blur of wings, and the fight began. The lithe grace of the emerald Ichthallin propelled it towards the minute form of the flying azure matron. The blue scales flashed in the sun and sand as the smaller dragon let out bugling taunts to her land-bound foe. The green dragons eyes narrowed, and it hunkered down like a coiled spring. With a roar and a rush, the Ichthallin loosed itself into the heavens.
The crowd drowned out the dragons with their roared approval.
For a moment, the tableau held. The serpentine drake vaulting towards its out-matched foe. The moment broke as the blue drake snapped its wings tight against its body and hurtled towards the Ichthallin. Jaws that can crush the bones of the earth snapped shut inches from victory. Claws raked, but with no ground for purchase, the attempts were too slow.
The matron, past the gauntlet of tooth and nail, unfurled her wings and braked with eye-wrenching abruptness. The Ichthallin undulated to meet his foe, but his lust for combat had placed him outside of his domain. His smaller prey became predator, and looped behind him in midair. Her claws were sharp, and her aim was true. With distressing ease, she dispatched the tendons on two of the four legs on the right flank of the falling green monstrosity.
A howl rent the air, raw with primal anger and pain.
The emerald dragon fell, his upward journey reaching its zenith. He twisted and writhed, biting and rending the air with his talons, trying desperately to knock his tormentor from the sky. She persisted, however. Each swoop a hairs breadth from disaster. Each slash of her talons with purpose. A muscle here, connective tissue there. She was a surgeon, and her foe had flung himself directly onto the operating table.
There was no bloodlust. No ritual of combat. The azure dragon dispatched her foe with speed and precision. The crowd had gone silent, watching the fall of the great beast. Finally, mercifully, he landed on the sand of the arena. He stirred, weakly, but was unable to pick himself up off the scorching sands. In the span of a minute, he had been dispatched by a figure perhaps a tenth his size.
No one spoke. No one clapped, or cheered, or booed. Silence reigned supreme. The victor furled her wings, let out a snort which woke up a tiny dust devil, and serenely waddled to the cage at the end of the arena. The sound of the cage slamming shut echoed in the still arena.
To be continued…
Persistfully,
Justin
