Fated Encounter

Hooves sounded on the cobblestone road, each step shaking the Zane in his saddle. His armor glinted under the light of the sun. He was making his way through a war-torn countryside. Only there hadn't been a war. The area he was passing through was just beyond the border of the Crimson woods. Among the treasures he found in the troll's lair last week was a mithril breastplate with a pair of star silver bracers. The women of the village painted the metal red, grown with splashes of green to make it easier for me to camouflage.

His destination was Castle Brookridge. The border scouts didn't see what caused the devastation, but they suspected a dragon. Nowadays, Dragon attacks were very rare. Not all dragons were decent individuals. But sometimes a wronged Dragon will rampage looking for the culprit. In those instances, they can be reasoned with. If it was a malevolent dragon who desired carnage, then he hoped he was strong enough to end them.

He hoped the dragon was still there. He hoped he could reason with it and all this could have a happy ending. Zane had no desire to kill a dragon.

Zane was approaching the smoldering remains of a town that surrounded the hill where Castle Brookridge stood. As he made his way through the desolate town, he felt pity for the people who had been driven out of their homes.

The road he traveled on eventually made its way to a moat dug at the base of the hill. A brick wall ran along the length of the moat, disappearing into the water. He went parallel to the castle until he found a drawbridge. It had been untouched by the fire. He dismounted his horse. It might look more stable than it actually was. It would be better if Zane crossed it alone. He found a hitching post that miraculously survived. He tethered his horse, stroking the animal's neck affectionately.

"I have to leave you here. If I don't return, mourn for me," he said, holding out half an apple for her consumption. She took the treat with enthusiasm, and after the snack, Zane cautiously crossed the drawbridge. The scene past the gates looked worse than outside. The once gray walls had been scorched. Everything was black and covered in soot. When the Hunter stepped upon the soot, there was a battle cry, and he found himself under attack.

The creatures were small and lizard-like. Kobolds. Zane barely dodged a barrage of small stones and spears that were thrown at him. He drew his sword, sighted the first of his assailants, and attacked.

The air quickly filled with screams as his sword bit into flesh. One of the enchantments on my sword was called Render. It could tear through any armor type except full-plate. The kobolds wore little armor, so Wvermbane cut through them down like wheat. Zane lost himself in battle. Years of rigorous training from his father and the other hunters automating his movements.

Bodies of the fallen kobolds lay everywhere in the courtyard of the castle. It was only when Zane stopped that he noticed. He was surprised by the number of Kobolds that lay dead.

After closer examination, he was certain these Kobolds were here to ambush any passersby. Luck had been on his side. His new armor had deflected numerous blows. If he hadn't been wearing it he was sure that he would have died. Sheathing his sword, he took out a potion and drank it quickly. It would restore his stamina and heal any wounds he might have sustained.

The doors of the castle were made of thick oak and reinforced by iron. One of the doors was slightly ajar. Sighing. Zane took in a deep breath and let it out. A fight with a Dragon in close quarters was almost certainly a death wish. He prayed it didn't come to that.

Fires flickered lazily as they burned in the corners of the great hall. The castle was a bastion between the great Wilderrun and the land of Avalon. The Crimson woods and the lands to the south were known as Wilderrun. An untamed wilderness that few called home.

The interior of the castle was bathed in the firelight. Where once the place sported ornate tapestries and items that reeked of wealth, now there was nothing. He cautiously walked among the long oak tables and his ears straining for the slightest sound.

The smoke thicken, and the smell of charred fleshed filled his nostrils. strewn about the hall were burnt corpses of Kobolds. The charred remains had been here for some time. It made Zane wonder if the Kobolds outside were waiting to ambush people entering the castle or waiting for someone to exit it.

In the middle of the hall between a pair of fallen pillars just before the throne was a pile of tapestries and gold. A horde. Things were clicking into place piece by piece. It was a slightly reassuring image but it did mean I would have to be cautious when dealing with this Dragon.

He approached the horde of gold cautiously. Dragon's never abandoned their horde and he looked around the room carefully. , Zane spied the glow of golden eyes. They were watching him. He turned slowly keeping his hand clasped in front of him away from his weapons.

"It's lovely isn't it?" The dragon said, The voice was melodious. Female perhaps.

"Very lovely. How did the Kobolds take it?" I asked the dragon.

The eyes shifted as the tall powerful form of the dragon stepped into the light.

"I have a condition. I took a sleeping draft to help me sleep. I still don't know how they entered my home but I woke in time to see them leaving with a portion of my horde. They took what they considered valuable." Black smoke billowed from her nostrils. "I chased them down only to find that they sold my horde to this town and its lord."

Zane nodded his head in understanding. He sighed and scrubbed his face. "Why are you still here then?"

She moved further into the light showing the long ebony bolt sticking from her side. "It's barbed. I can't get it out. If I change into my mortal form then the bolt will kill me for sure."

Without thought, Zane stepped forward and gripped the bolt. He'd seen this kind before and knew how to remove it. With a twist and a tug, he pulled it from her. The dragon hissed in pain. The wound healed itself in mere moments.

She flapped her wings sending a gust of air then her form shrank and instead of a massive dragon, a tall slender woman stood there. Her hair was long and blood-red with a pair of horns protruding from her head. Her body was bare but for a few red scales that strategically covered her lady parts.

She rubbed her side where the bolt would have been. If she had tried changing forms the bold would have ripped her insides apart. She looked at him and her golden eyes bore into his. He felt something then a strange tug towards her as if a cord had been tied between them.

"I'm Zan Oakleaf." He said taking slow steps towards her.

She stepped towards him. "Elmira Bloodvist."

His arms lifted encircling her and her arms slid up his back. Their lips met and their bodies fit together like missing pieces of a puzzle. The world faded. Nothing existed except them. In the moments that followed as their passion grew, a single word echoed in their minds. "Mine."