Mission

An hour and a half later, the keep is once again silent. Two dragons escaped, two were killed, and the prince is still yet to be determined. The human casualties, however, were much greater, counting twenty-six total losses.

Now, however, the soldiers are all gathered around the gate, listening as Cecil speaks orders. "We must go out and locate that prince," the Gold level warrior snaps, "It is very likely he is still alive. If he lives, he will be back, and more of our people will die."

"At once, General Cecil. We will organize a search party and send them out," an officer replies, turning to the soldiers present.

"No!" Cecil halts him, throwing out his hand. "That is not necessary. My brother, Leonidas, will go."

Leo, standing close to the back of the crowd, his cloak wrapped tightly around him to ward off the cold, is caught completely off guard. The crowd, equally surprised, turns nearly in sync to look at him. Then, under the watchful gaze of Cecil, they slowly part to allow the eldest twin to approach his brother.

For a second the boy just stands, feeling nervous and nearly sick under the scrutinizing eyes of so many people. Eventually, realizing that he is expected to move, Leo comes forward, stopping nearly a yard away from his brother. "Me?" he asks uncertainly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Alone?"

Closing the distance between them and throwing his arm around Leo's shoulders, Cecil says, "Why not, brother? Think of this as your chance to prove yourself. You've never killed a dragon, never even seen one before today. How amazing would it be to claim a prince on your first kill? You could join me at the palace, you'd be regarded as a hero… why shouldn't I give you that opportunity? It would be me, you, and the high king. The only ones currently alive that brought down dragon princes."

Leo pauses, letting that sink in. That horrible, dreadful look he saw in Cecil's eyes… with one thrust of his sword he could end that. Assuming, of course, he didn't imagine it in the first place. This is the Cecil Leo knows, the one who would give anything to simply help his family. The one who would pass up the definite kill on a dragon prince just for the sake of furthering his younger brother. Perhaps he never was filled with that malice. Perhaps Leo simply lost his nerve.

But… why not Ruhban? Because he's killed a dragon before?

Leonidas could be regarded as a hero, set next to the high king with his brother… he could finally be as great as Cecil. He could finally provide money for his family. But it would mean killing a wounded, intelligent creature.

Cecil squeezes his shoulders, gives him a genuine smile, and waves to the men manning the gates. The large, heavy gates are slowly drawn open, a loud clanking filling the air from its chains. Apparently, he does not have a choice. Why shouldn't he take the initiative? Why shouldn't he take the fame, the fortune? Why shouldn't he become as great as his brother? Why shouldn't he get over his cowardice in the most valiant way possible?

Leo allows himself another moment of silence, trying to puzzle through the emotions within him. "I could be a hero…" he keeps thinking, over and over again. Yet something within him cringes away from killing, just like it always has.

Finally, steeling himself, Leo turns to face Cecil and murmurs, "Alright. I will go." He wants it… he wants to make that first kill. To prove to himself, his family, and everyone watching that he is not the coward they think he is.

"Good," Cecil murmurs, releasing him with a pat on the shoulder. "Do you have everything you need, or should I send a messenger for your things?"

A quick check of gear reveals that Leo is ready. Chestplate, chain mail, helmet, oiled boots to keep out water, gauntlets to fight the cold, a fur-lined oiled cloak, and a broadsword hung at his belt: Everything is in order. "I have everything," Leonidas murmurs. He should not need anything else, such as food and water, for the duration of the trip. Hopefully, it will be no longer than four hours.

"Good," Cecil repeats, and his voice drops into a softer tone. "Good hunting, Leo. I'll be waiting for your arrival. When you fight that prince, make sure to avoid his head and his tail. If I hit his shoulder with that bolt, he shouldn't be mobile. Now, hurry off with you. You've only got about six hours before nightfall." With that, Cecil basically shoves Leo forward, forcing the boy to take those first steps through the gate and out into the frigid wilderness.

With a hiss, Leo regains his balance and shoots a glare back at his brother. Cecil, not missing the look, throws a smile in reply and waves. A chorus of cheers goes up, Ruhban running forward through the crowd to scream, "Good luck, Leo!" Leo waves back watching as Cecil once again signals the gatemen. The loud metallic booming resumes, the massive wooden gates narrowing Leo's view of the fort.

Not wishing to be seen as hesitant or cowardly, Leo turns from the crowd and starts off down the snow-filled path. Immediately, he realizes that this journey will not be easy and that there is very little chance he will get back before darkness has fallen. The snow, even on the cleared path, is nearly a foot deep and growing. The drifts… Leonidas does not want to think about struggling through them just yet.

Boom!

Leo winces involuntarily as the gates slam shut, stopping his advancement through the snow. Casting a glance over his shoulder at the dark keep, now silent and foreboding in the snow, Leo sighs, his breath clouding in the air. Then, looking back to the forest standing ominously in front of him, he mutters, "What am I doing?"

His first kill, a prince… that's amazing. However, it is also a very big, very daunting task. Not only does he have to walk through miles of deep snow in negative degree weather, but Leo also needs to find the prince. There are hundreds of miles of forest, folded up and down the mountains, and only one patch of it holds the downed dragon. And, of course, if Leo manages to find the crash site, this also assumes that the dragon has not moved. If he has, Leo must spend even more time and energy tracking him. Then, finally, when his quarry is spotted, he must fight the prince, who is no doubt a very skilled opponent. Finally, assuming he can kill the dragon, Leo must then haul a trophy all the way back to his brother, most likely in the dark, without encountering any other dragons or losing his way in the forest and meeting a doom of freezing to death. "What am I doing?" Leo groans again, casting a glance about his surroundings. With the blanket of snow, everything is eerily quiet. The front of the fort faces out to the northeast, the road wrapping around a particularly large peak before winding farther south and out of the mountain range. If he is correct in his guess as to where the prince went down, then he needs to go nearly west, closer to the frozen ocean.

No turning back now. He lost that chance the moment he stepped out of the keep.

Turning to the right, Leo starts off, picking his way carefully through the deep snow. If he falls unsuspectingly into a drift, he may spend the better part of an hour trying to free himself. Once beneath the trees, the snow thins marginally, the thick interlocking boughs of the conifers protecting the forest floor from the worst of the downfall. The trees also serve to block the worst of the wind, allowing some amount of comfort as the recruit trudges through the forest.

Staying just out of sight of the fort, Leo skirts around to the northwestern wall of the Dismal Fort. Then, turning to face directly west, he starts up the slopes. The higher up he manages to climb, the closer he gets to the bottom of the cliff faces that mark the massive peaks. The closer he draws to the cliff faces, the more he has to dodge around boulders and step over frozen creeks. As he goes, the forest continues to become thicker, the sky gradually growing darker all the time. With the snow and the steep incline, Leo finds himself regularly stopping to gasp for breath. To the best of his knowledge, he is still continuing on a westward course, accounting for all the times he's needed to backtrack because the forest has become impassable.

Stopping for another moment, the recruit rests his back against the thick trunk of a nearby tree. He needs this rest to catch his breath, and to figure out where he must go from his current position. Going on a loose calculation of where the dragon went down, he should be far up enough and far enough west to find the dragon. Now, he only needs to scour acres of forest for a wounded, fire-breathing war machine.

"If I were a dragon," he mutters as his breath returns to him. "Where would I aim for a crash landing?" Leo casts his gaze around, attempting to get a vague idea of what the landscape looks like nearby. Other than the silent, snowy cliff stretching hundreds of feet above him, the boy can't make out much of the topography. Based on inference, however, he can assume that the closer to the cliff he gets the more boulders he will encounter. A conscious dragon would attempt to aim away from the bone-breaking impact one of the massive chunks of rock would bring. So staying away from the base of the cliff is his best bet. Too far into the forest, however, and the dragon risks being impaled. ¹

Pulling his cloak a little tighter around him, Leo skids a ways back down the hill, nearly losing his footing on the slick snow-covered rock. Getting a little farther down the slope will allow him to travel easier. According to his internal compass, he is a little northwest of Dismal Fort, meaning he should be on the correct peak. Or, of course, it could be the one directly north of him, but there is no need to walk all the way to the rocky peak without first checking his current position.

First, Leo starts in a southeastern direction, skirting along the cliffs and attempting to cover every inch of the forest he can. Of course, his vision is limited to about twenty yards in either direction, so he must make a sweeping pattern, walking up and down the slope multiple times.

On his third pass up, Leo finds himself remembering the hunting hounds back at the keep, bred solely for the purpose of locating quarry… such as downed dragons. The notion stops him in his tracks, and he groans out loud. "Why," Leonidas mutters, "am I such an idiot? I should have at least requested a single hound."

The sudden urge to slam his own head against a tree in frustration shakes him, and for a moment he contemplates following through.

Then, however, he hears it.

Directly to the east, a little below and in front of him, comes a distant, frustrated snort. The snort of a very large, predatory creature. The snort of a dragon prince.

The sound sends shivers down his spine, freezing up his muscles and jacking his heart-rate up. His body's fight or flight response takes over, kicking adrenaline into his veins even as his hand reaches for his sword. His quarry is near at last! Within reach, even. Just a few sliding steps, one more ridge, and he will be regarded as a hero.

Unlike Leo thought it might when the time came, his body strains to draw nearer to the dragon. The boy's mind is well aware of the danger, sending ribbons of terror through him, but his body does not seem to be in the same state. Every fiber of his being is pushing forward, toward the muffled snort, calling every strand of muscle to not run, but to fight. Not what Leo expected to happen. Not at all. He thought, with his proven inability to kill, that his body would command him at once to run from a massive threat such as this.

Slowly, Leonidas's mind allows his body to move, releasing itself from fear as adrenaline takes over. As he moves forward, the trees begin to thin. Perfect. His earlier calculations told him the dragon would be here. It is invigorating to know he was right. The conifers do not disappear completely, but they do start to spread apart. Skidding down the slope, attempting to be quiet, Leo hones in on the small sounds coming from the dragon. A huff here, a small growl there, and a snarl that shakes the trees. This dragon is definitely not having a great day.

Leo approaches the small ridge between himself and where the dragon must be, pulling himself up it and alighting atop a small boulder. Crouching down, Leo slithers forwards until he can peek over the edge without skylining himself.

Below him, the trees thin to nearly nothing, creating a small ring that leads up onto a slope of scree. To the east of the ring, three or four trees are broken, missing their tips and a large number of branches. Immediately below them, the snow is blown out in a long skid mark, dirt and rocks dragged up in its wake. And, sitting at the end of that path, is the dragon prince.

The prince has lost some of his jewelry, no doubt scattered and lost under the snow on impact. He is larger than Leo assumed, having only seen him in the air and on a distant watchtower. If Leonidas had to guess, he would assume the dragon to be about as tall as a draft horse at the shoulder, over 18 hands tall. His scales are certainly more brilliant up close, the black showing signs of that royal purple hidden in its depths. The dragon's eyes, a detail that Leo did not notice back in the tower, are a dark purple fading to pink around his pupil. These eyes are flickering diligently around the clearing, missing nothing and constantly scanning. Without their golden covers, the dragon's talons are simply ivory, just like his chest and horns. The color blends well with the snow.

Suddenly, his lips peeling back, eyes narrowing into slits, his attention snapping to a point directly in front of him, the prince roars and sprays fire onto the ground. With a panicked flutter, a bird shoots out of the way of the flame, its feathers smoking. A lucky little thing, to have avoided death like that.

Realizing that the bird has escaped, the prince roars, attempting to get up and give chase. His right front leg gives out, and he goes back down with a grunt of pain. Now that the dragon's movements have called his attention to it, Leo can see that the prince's right wing is not collected neatly like his left, but rather is splayed awkwardly beside him. Beneath his wing, the very end of a massive wooden bolt can be seen peeking out. Blood is soaking into the snow, turning it a vibrant red.

If there was any question about the dragon being injured, it can be dismissed.

"Great thinking," Leo hisses to himself. "Don't bring a shield when you are fighting an angry, fire breathing, war machine."

Taking a deep breath, Leo silently hoists himself over the ridge, being very careful to cause as little noise as possible. If he can get close enough, it will only take one movement of his sword to end the fight. But he has to get within striking distance without being barbecued. And now, of course, he's in plain sight. Hopefully, the dragon will be distracted by his own problems for a few seconds.

"Am I really going to kill something?" Leo asks himself, gently sliding down the slope a little farther. "Yes. I am. Think of the fame… think of what you can do with the money you'll be rewarded…. Think about being side by side with Cecil, finally as great as your brother. Yes, I'm going to kill it. I'm going to kill this downed dragon."

Stepping down onto another rock, Leonidas lowers himself carefully, keeping his body pressed to the earth behind him. He's close now… very close. His heartbeat is loud in his own ears, his body shaking slightly with adrenaline. It is making him light-headed and weak. The thought does occur to him that adrenaline is supposed to have the opposite effect, boosting his strength and creating a sharp focus.

However, pushing this thought from his mind, Leo inches toward the dragon. The prince, oblivious to his presence, cranes his neck around and attempts to bite at the bolt in his side. The dragon manages only to sink a sharp white tooth into the sturdy wood, but immediately releases his grip with a snarl of pain. Then, frustrated, he buries his ebony nose in the snow and proceeds to shake his head, flinging slush in all directions.

Leonidas takes advantage of the distraction and slides down to the level of the dragon, and quickly shelters himself behind a rather large boulder. The beast still doesn't seem to notice the human's presence, laying his head down and sighing softly, smoke curling from his nostrils.

For just a split second, Leo hesitates. The dragon looks sad… almost scared. It no doubt knows that if it does not manage to get up, it will eventually die.

"He has no idea," Leo murmurs silently. "That I am going to end his life so soon."

Once again, deep inside himself, something stirs. That same thing that has halted his sword every time he attempts a killing blow. He doesn't want to take this shot… this kill.

"The fame," Leo snaps at himself. "Remember?"

Taking a deep breath, Leo pushes his back against the rock and slowly draws his sword. Being quiet is still most important here. Behind him, the dragon sighs softly, tilting his head slightly and digging one cheek into the snow, his eyes narrowing into despairing slits.

Shaking, before he can manage to change his mind, Leo takes two deep breaths, grabs the edge of the rock, and bolts out into the open.

Immediately, the dragon's head snaps up, his lips peeled back to reveal sharp, sparkling teeth, his attention fully on the human. His eyes narrow, a snarl slipping through his lips.

Leo's instinct kicks into gear as he remembers his training. The easiest way to kill a dragon when in a close-quarters fight is to slip one's sword in the gap between the dragon's body scales and their chest plates. If Leo can get to the dragon's left side, he can kill the already wounded animal without putting himself in immense danger. Diving down, Leo rolls, aiming for the space beneath the dragon's head, attempting to get out of the beast's line of sight. Startled at the sudden movement, the dragon rears back with a roar, fire brimming between his teeth, attempting to follow the motion.

Gritting his own teeth, Leo applies nothing but pure will, coming to his feet just in time to once again scramble out of the way. But the fire still manages to sear his skin, sending blistering cracks across his face. The heat from the blast raises the temperature of the armor around the boy's skin nearly to an intolerable level. It also turns the nearby blanket of snow into mush, making the footing dangerously slippery.

Staggering to his feet, carried there only by his momentum, a soft presence touches the air around him, and time seems to slow around Leo. Everything comes to a crawl, just like back in the tower. Seemingly frozen, Leo watches as the dragon's lips twitch in a nearly-comical slow movement. It is only then that he realizes how extremely close to the dragon he is. He is just a foot away from the beast's chest. If he so wished, he could reach out and touch it… feel the silk-like scales that form an impenetrable armor over the dragon's skin. He could dip his fingers in the blood dripping from the beast's shoulders, or scoop some of it up from where it has fallen into the snow. The boy can see every detail in the dragon's belly plates, including more than one very deep scratch, no doubt caused by another dragon. The plates come from his underside and wrap upward, protecting his immense neck and throat. Under his jaw, they fade into a less dense pattern of scales. "There," Leo supposes, "would be another great place to strike to kill."

Directly in front of Leo, coming into stark focus, is the place where he needs to land his strike. A successful stab will go directly into the dragon's heart, missing his shoulder blades, sternum, and ribcage. It would be an instant kill shot. All Leo needs to do is drive his sword into the tiny patch of grey skin peeking out between the white belly plates and the royal purple scales.

Leo lunges, feeling as though he is moving through molasses. Through his adrenaline-drugged perception of time, the sword inches slowly closer to the dragon's heart. The strong, unfaltering heart that works day in and day out to pump blood through the massive, lean body: the body built with such perfection that allows it not only to fight but to fly.

Leo's eye flicks back, catching and holding on the dragon's own.

"What am I doing?"

The thought is like an electric shock, whipping through Leonidas's body. That beautiful eye, shining with the fire stored within that mass8ve, scaled chest, is filled with fear and desperation. The prince knows. He knows. The dragon is well aware he is going to die and he does not want to. He has a duty, to his kind and to his country. He has land to protect, a family of his own, perhaps even children to protect.

He has a will and a right to do that; to do exactly as Leo is doing and protect his family. His blood. The things he loves.

"What am I doing?"

The question rings once more in Leo's ear, and somewhere deep within his own soul, a feeling shatters through the shell of greed around his heart. A horrible, heart-wrenching agony so deep it nearly halts every other thought in Leo's mind as it rips through his chest. How could he possibly take the life of a being simply attempting to protect what he loves? How could he possibly have let himself be a tool in revenge? How could he have let himself become so foul that he would desecrate a life? All for his own fame?

Leo's attention turns back to the sword, still crawling its way toward that beating heart. With precision only made possible by training, Leo deflects, flicking it to the side.

He would rather lose his own life than take the life of another.

Cold whips around Leonidas and time comes crashing back in, only allowing him a split second to gasp. His sword skids harmlessly off the dragon's scales before teeth snap shut centimeters from his face. Pure instinct allows him to recoil, his innate reflex screaming at him to get as far away from those serrated killing mechanisms as possible.

Boom!

The impact registers first, shocking Leo almost as much as the blinding pain that follows. Instead of using those teeth that surely could have killed his quarry in seconds, the dragon instead opts to use his head as a battering ram. The horned part of his upper jaw connects directly with Leo's sternum, flinging the human across the clearing. Then, Leo is aware of only two facts: The sky is flipping in and out of his vision and he cannot breathe.

For a moment, panic takes over. He flails in the air, only for a millisecond, before he hits the ground. Any oxygen that he might have retained is at once removed from his chest. Snow explodes around him, creating a haze-like mist in the air before once again settling down. Leonidas can only watch the flakes glide lazily to the ground, as he is completely unable to move. Or breathe. Suddenly, pain explodes through his shoulder blades, and he tries to gasp. His diaphragm, still spasming from the impact with the dragon's nose, cannot comply. Once again, Leo panics. He can't breathe. Allowing oxygen into his body seems beyond his lung's capabilities.

A dull thunk sounds, and suddenly his diaphragm recovers, forcefully drawing oxygen in with a sound somewhere between a wheeze and a croak. Only then does Leo become aware of anything outside of his own body… like the fact that the dragon princes' uninjured leg is outstretched, his massive paw pinning the confused human to the ground. The digits of the limb begin to wrap around him, squeezing down against his chest and arms.

Claws prick at his skin, catching in his thick tunic as they curl around Leo's heavy chest plate. With removed curiosity, Leo studies the digits extending from the dragon's paw. Each one is scaled so perfectly as to allow not even an inch of unprotected skin, yet they still give the digits room to curl and splay. At the ends of them, massive dull claws extend, the inside of their curve so subtly serrated that only close inspection would reveal the flesh-ripping hooks.

Leo manages to follow the leg back up to the dragon's head, which is looking directly down on Leo's still form. The lips are once again peeled back, wrinkling skin on the top of the dragon's snout. Those teeth, gleaming in the dull light, are just inches from Leo's face. So close, in fact, Leo can see the tiny chip missing from one of the canines.

"Oh," Leo realizes, suddenly snapped out of his lull of confusion. "He's going to kill me." Once again he panics, looking for any way to prevent his death. Saying he would give his life so another can live is one thing. Doing it is another thing entirely. Casting around frantically, his eyes land on his sword, which suddenly seems wiry and insignificant in light of the dragon's might. It is nearly ten feet away, and a good portion of the blade is sticking out of the snow.

The sword will be no help.

Looking up, Leo zeroes in on the claw nearest his throat, curling around the edge of his chest plate and resting against the boy's chest. It is then that he realizes there is nothing in the world he can do to save his own life.

If the dragon prince decides to kill him, then it shall be.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Leo turns his head away from the dragon, his desperation melting away into a mix of terror and shock. He will die, and that will be the end. The look of disappointment in Cecil's eyes will be cemented. Leo will have lost his life to a dragon prince, simply because he was too cowardly to take a killing shot.

There is nothing he can do. Absolutely nothing.

Nothing but lie down and await death.