The Dragon And The Fae

1. Unicorns

She ran as fast as she could, the wind whipping her fiery red hair and her joints creaking from exertion as she dodged the thorny branches that would have otherwise welted her face. Sweat beaded on her brows and upper lip and she jumped over a fallen log careful not to lose her footing on the wet forest floor. No she couldn't fall. She couldn't afford to lose sight of her prey. They need to pay, their blood needs to be on her hands. Just like how they ripped her soul into pieces.

With a loud scream she jumped, momentarily dislodging herself in the air and using the momentum to tear into it’s gray back with her sword. Shrieking, it rolled onto the ground before coming up on all fours shivering and stretching, it’s spiked hunch back oozing smelly tar where her sword tore into. A ghoul. A round hole for a mouth filled with rotten spikes screamed bloody murder before charging at her. Swirling her sword up into position, her lips tipped up. “You are dead already.”

She swung her sword tearing into it’s torso as she thwarted it’s long sharp nails that would have disemboweled her like a piece of butter. Like a flying monkey it latched onto a tree, gracelessly jumping from tree to tree as she narrowed her eyes on the target. “You dumb monster. Your last wish is to pole dance on the trees?”

With a cry it jumped onto her, its black void for eyes going wide for a moment and then slumped onto the floor. Dead.

“I told you are dead already.” She grunted as she pulled her sword where it impaled it’s heart. She watched with loathing as the stinking demon’s body disintegrated into ashes and seeped into the soil.

No normal sword could kill a ghoul that easily unless they’re beheaded or their rotten ball of a heart is torn off. She raised her sword cover in traces of ashes. “We did good today. Didn’t we, volor?” The sword gleamed red.

As long as a Viking sword, her 'volor' screamed nothing ordinary. The pommel of the sword was a carved into a budding tulip as it's base. Gold and red grip spiralled to give rise to strong wings spread wide into a hilt. The length of the double edged sword was decorated with bright, sharp, small red zircons at the centre along it’s length. When used with precise knowledge, Red zircons helped in healing most dire physical wounds but of course there were consequences for that. And the true stones were precious, which furthur added volor's value.

As valuable as volor might be to someone, it was more than that for her. Volor was a part of her. So was Valerie. With that thought, the massive black wings popped from her back. The pointed silver shaft extended where as its vane ended halfway. The bottom set of feathers of her wings had their sharp silver shaft much longer and curved outwards as ruthless poisoned blades. At one look, her wings looked like a spiked armor protruding from her back, so no one dared to backstab her. She snorted at the irony of it.

Valerie always got her back. Even thick swords couldn't cut through her. Just as her poisoned hatred grew inside her for two centuries, so did volor and Valerie grew in strength. But two centuries before or later, at the end of the day only they were there to witness the miserable end of her life.

She, volor and valerie were one soul. None exists without each other. Come what may, she'll never trade any part of her soul for the ordinary.

“Let’s go, lassie.” Valerie flapped to take off as volor dissolved into thin air. But she whipped around to the scrunching of grass, volor as sharp as ever present out of for her outstretched hands in a moment.

“Show yourself and i will show you mercy.” She called out. Her amber eyes darted from tree to tree. Flecks of red started seeping into her pupil. She tightened her hold on the sword. “Ambush and i will disembowel you!”