The next night, the sky was a calm violet background littered with hundreds of stars and dozens of nebulas. No matter how much Dierdre stared into the void she couldn’t forget about Advar. Only two days prior had he given her the sword she now held. Now she would never get the chance to find out why. She had hoped during their training sessions he would have mentioned what drove him to give away such a well-made blade. She heard the backdoor open as someone joined her in the backyard. Turning to see her mother approaching weapon in hand, Deirdre nodded to acknowledge her presence.
“Get up,” Elise commanded offering a hand, “There’s nothing better for a sad heart than a spar.” Wordlessly Deirdre stood up and barely raised Scaleripper to block the first blow. As Elise continued to advance all Deirdre could manage to do was defend.
“If you’re too worried about the past you’ll never defeat the problems of the present,” Elise warned as her polearm slashed downward. Due to the comment thoughts of Advar flooded Deirdre’s mind. With a great deal of effort, she turned her thoughts to the movements he had taught her. With a graceful flourish she tipped her mother's blade away and stabbed her sword forward cutting her mother’s arm.
“That’s more like it,” Elise gleefully shouted preparing to slash her bardiche with new vigor. Deirdre noticed that the small cut on her mother’s arm had already closed due to her mother’s healing ability. She was a bit envious since according to her mother, she had always healed quickly and had no idea why. As a child she had asked the elder but his best guess was her mother had an inherent affinity for magic and her body unconsciously used it. He also said such a talent was rarer than meeting a king.
Deirdre held her sword with both hands to block the halberd. With a clang she felt her sword leave her hands before the bardiche buried itself in the ground.
“It was a good effort but it looks like you’ll need to practice for a couple more years before you can best your mom,” Elise boasted clapping her daughter on the back.
“Don’t worry in a couple of years I’ll be a dozen times stronger than you,” Deirdre shot back.
“Well first things first you need to sleep so you’ll wake up in time for your wedding,” Elise commanded pulling Deirdre towards the house.
The next day, Alfar waited nervously at the entrance to the townhall. “The choir will sing and then I’ll go in and I just have to do whatever the Elder says. Choir then go in. Choir then go in. Choir then go in,” he muttered to himself. He was nervous for so many reasons and only a few of them could he explain. He worried about all the change. Would he be able to provide for his family? Would he be happy traveling the world? He tried to stymie his worries and listen for the choir but the questions remained at the back of his mind.
As the singing started Alfar pushed the heavy wooden doors open and entered the chapel. He began to walk down the aisle past row after row of pews filled with villagers he’d known since birth. He passed by his friends who sat next to each other. Ciaran and Thomas both winked at him ceaselessly while Lachlann looked as though he could barely keep his eyes open. However, Alfar found it hard to look at anything besides the altar where Deirdre stood in a long brown dress with white embroidery along the edges, Scaleripper tied to her waist. She looked stunning especially with a single ray of sunshine illuminating her from the window behind the altar. He found himself unconsciously speeding up as he walked towards her. When he was about halfway, a terrible creaking sound erupted throughout the building as the back half of the townhall collapsed. Dust filled the air as the crowd gasped and a few people ran to move the rubble. The majority stared in awe through the hole in the roof at a terrifying scaled beast with four muscular legs and a pair of wings. It’s long lizard like body turned as a cone of fire poured from its mouth onto the village. The villagers began to scramble to mount a defense but the walls of fire outside indicated it would be of little help.
Time seemed to slow as Alfar ran forward and threw pieces of rubble out of the way until he came upon Deirdre body. As he finished uncovering her body Alfar saw that her head had been smashed by a falling beam. Tears welled up inside him as he held her mangled corpse. But his sadness was quickly drowned out by the bestial roars as the dragon continued its attack. Anger tensed Alfar’s muscles and clenched his teeth as he let go of his fiancée's corpse and grabbed Scaleripper from its sheath.
As he ran outside, he saw much of the town on fire with archers weaving between bucket brigades. The beast had set down just in front of the town hall; it appeared to be attempting to bite and claw something Alfar couldn’t see. The dragon lunged forward as a small figure with a polearm in hand jumped onto its head and tried to wrestle with it. He then saw Thomas with two spears in hand run at the wings. After using one spear to nail the dragon’s wing to the ground, Thomas used the other to begin tearing holes in the thin leather. Meanwhile the other wing was being pierced by dozens of arrows from a group of villagers that seemed to have been hastily gathered by Ciarin. Unfortunately, the beast seemed unaffected as it tossed Mrs. Hawkwing from its head and used its wings to knock the others away.
While the others were fighting Lachlann was tending to the elder who he had found wheezing against a wall at the back of the chapel after the collapse. He did his best to use the herbs he carried with him but still worried that the old man’s body would soon give out.
Topapa’s body shuddered as he struggled to cough out words, “I’m sorry... You’ve always been like a son to me … but it seems... today I’ll leave you... without fulfilling my promises...”
“Don’t talk,” Lachlann muttered while staving of tears,” You need your strength for tomorrow.”
“I’m so sorry... I lost my way...” As his eye seemed to glaze over, Topapa reached out to hold Lachlann’s face with his wrinkled hand. “I’ve hidden it from you... and the others... but I think it is time you... should know... I hoped this day would not come... you were more than I originally... thought... more of a son... than I should ever know.”
“What do you mean? What day?” Lachlann stopped his attempts at first aid as his focus was drawn to questions.
“A sad fate... for one so young...” Topapa ignored Lachlann’s pleas as he turned to look at Deirdre’s body. “I only guess at fate’s desire... but it would seem she was unneeded... for the future... such a grim fate... for a young life...”
“You said that but what does it mean?” Lachlann cried hoping to coax an answer before it was too late.
“You must know... the path I chose... I would not again... but things are moving... as I had agreed” Tears began to stream down his troubled face. “The future can be changed... you should already know that... beware key... disguise...” Lachlann struggled to hear the last few words as a stray arrow flew through the hole in the wall and nicked the old man’s neck gargling his speech. Lachlann curled up and cried as his mind shouted in chaos. A roar awakened him from his stupor. Grabbing the elder’s staff Lachlann went to join the battle.
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