Wrath Of The Beast

dancing flame

The dim light of the candle flickered as reality washed over him. As the wavering tip of the flame danced back and forth, the smoke billowed off. The curves moved and danced around the wick like an ecdysiast in the prime of her youth. The smoke was as round and soft and swayed with her hips as they rounded the wick, and with a slight puff of the air, her leg kicked to the sky as she lowered her bottom, before rising again and posing for him. She stared at him, and extended a finger, her hand reaching like a divine emissary when she faded away. From her voluptuous hips up her eyes shone with fear as the final spark, her hand, faded away.

A moment later a blinding whiteness washed over him as a voice muffled and distant called out. Again he heard the word, spoken and soft, but familiar. "Aeron" Who? He thought. As the brightness faded further he started to see a massive dragon, its blue eyes ravenous, lips stained with blood. He felt his heart pound in his chest as the monster leaned in closer and from its devilish lips another "Aeron." came forth. Aeron swung his fist at its face, but when his arm was up, he saw no fist, not even a hand. A deep breath deeply accompanied by the heart nearly jumping from his chest as the eyes of the draconic seemed to change. The ravenous monster went from a gargantuan devil to a woman. She leaned over him, her face thin and cheekbones sharp as a master forged swords, eyes as blue and beautiful as the heavens above. After a moment of astonishment at her beauty, he came back to the world, and his mind began to flow once more. "Synthya." He wheezed out instinctually. Immediately, she placed her finger over his lips, then gave a soft kiss.

"It's going to be alright, Honeydew. Just take it slow, you gave me the biggest scare you know. For that, your pay will be docked." Her playful tone was accompanied by a few tears and an underlying sorrow as a bottle of mandrake potion pressed to his lips. He swallowed and felt the tonic slide down his throat. The revitalization washed over him, and as it snaked through his veins the time flashed by, one day blended into another and another, each with his vitality returning in greater amounts. When finally in full vigor a knock came at his door.

"Lord Smyth, our dear lady, has requested a formal audience. In the courtyard." Perci stated in a grim tone. He looked not the familiar friend he once was but his visage was that of an obedient, distant, and loyal steward. Aeron looked to where his former arm was, then back to Perci.

"Seems it's worse off than the dean told me. How many did we lose?" Aeron used his crutch to stabilize himself as he adjusted his formal garb.

"I'm not to say Ser. All that m'lady has permitted me to speak is what I've told you, and to escort you to the courtyard."

"A lot then." He began to ponder. 'I never should have brought those kids, should have called in the guild. At least then the blame would be on them and their reckless behavior. A team of elite, heck any guild bound hunters would have taken the job and blow up half the castle to kill a dragon.' Aeron walked with Perci who nodded and lead him from the room.

"I take it the townsfolk all want my head on a spike for their lost boys." He said to Perci's silence. Any answer would have confirmed his suspicion. He and Perci both knew it. Not by any malice, but by her duty Lady Tumble would be bound to declare him and his students as no good ruffians and deny them pay. Of course, in private she'd pay him at the very least, or so he hoped.

As they exited the elephantine entryway, a legion of villagers bunched up outside of the castle. The surviving men he'd led gazed with tired, shocked faces as he and Perci parted the mob. In front of them was a raised wooden stage where Lady Tumble stood in her finery with his students, looking sullen. Her pale skin shone in the post noon sun, her hair was well maintained, in official status, showing that this occasion was serious. Aeron had seen her wear this bobby style as she commanded men to be executed and honored. She knew he would be watching her, and that he had known her. Her people knew it too Synthya Tumble, the Lady of Thornwood. She was as glamorous as a white rose but as arduous as redwood. As Aeron took a step onto the Deus, he felt his chest ache, his blonde locks stuck to the back of the neck, all the while his hands, his one good hand trembled.