florilegium

l u c i a

"Fire spewed from the mouth of a mountain." - prompt from poem 'Medusa' by Carol Ann Duffy

original picture in external link-NOT MINE

~*~

I glowered at the man circling in front of me and stuffed a flyaway auburn curl of hair under my oversized, rusty metal helmet. My opponent would have towered over me, had he been stood next to me, and was built like a bear. An ugly scowl covered his face, making him impossibly even more unattractive. The sun reflected off his bald, glistening head, and a stained piece of cloth barely covering him was being consumed by his protruding stomach. The crowd in the arena roared, growing impatient. Using this as my cue to attack, I ran towards the other gladiator, brandishing my sword. But before we could even make contact, an otherworldly roar pierced the air, and the earth started tremoring and shaking. Despite the arena being brimming with people, not a single pair of eyes were focused on the fight in the pit of the arena.

All eyes were turned towards the mountain.

A large flower of ashen smoke was escaping the mountain top; fire spewing from the mouth of the mountain. The gods were angry. The mountain was stirring, grumbling, awakening, causing worried murmurs to sweep the crowd. I ran to the edge of the arena, pushing through hordes of men drenched in sweat, ignoring the cries of protest erupting from my owner.

Grabbing my shield, I sprinted out towards the belching mountain, shoving my way through the crowds of people gathered to witness the supernatural spectacle. The sky was turning dark due to the amount of smoke pouring from the peak. The closer I got to Vesuvius, the harder it got for me to breathe. Coughing, I tightened my grip on my sword, the steel blade becoming harder to keep hold of with my clammy hands, and continued closer to the mountain. What met my eyes was something I would never forget. A gargantuan reptile with crimson scales as big as the mountain itself was slowly rising, beating its colossal blood red wings, billowing out clouds of clouds of smoke and ash. Its eyes burned bright amber, and its thin, slit pupils were voids of darkness.

I wanted to run. I wanted to run as fast as it was physically possible for a barely five foot tall fighting slave could, away from this awakening monstrosity. But I was rooted to the spot, unable to move. Paralysed.

Taking a deep breath, I deliberately crept towards the rising dragon, being careful not to make a sound. Unfortunately, my luck ran out. The dragon's head whipped around, the glowing orbs focusing on my tiny figure. I suppressed the urge to gulp. Slowly and steadily, it started to draw in a large breath, a rumble growing in the back of its throat, which caused the ground to shake even more. A stream of fire leapt from its open mouth. I ducked, too late and singed the ends of my hair. Cursing, I blew the glowing ends out and darted closer to the dragon, shield raised and sword ready. I caught the sun's reflection on my shield through the ash and ran forward. Its attacks were like lightning; quick and deadly. Its talons were razor sharp and the length of my entire being; its fire white hot. I tried relentlessly to impale the thick hide, but with no prevail. Until I noticed something. Underneath its head, was a small patch of thinner skin, because it would glow before it released a plume of fire. So I timed it carefully. When it was about to open its mouth, I ducked under its head and slit its throat with my sword. The beast fell to the ground almost instantly, our battle finally over. I breathed heavily in and out and turned around.

I was too late. Pompeii was dead.