Dragon Unleashed (Book 1 of the Dragon Mage Saga)

Afternoon Battles

Darla breathed in deeply, allowing her lungs to be filled with sweet air. The humidity clung to her neck. Salty sweat slithered down her face like a stream. She narrowed her eyes, green as summer grass, and gazed at her enemy.

            Arabelle.         

            “C’mon, show me what you got,” Arabelle hissed uncharacteristically, her carroty red curls bobbing up and down as she strode back and forth around the ring. “Show me the power of the Dragon Mage.”

            Darla smirked, folding her arms across her chest. “You don’t want to know. I’m deadly, Arabelle. Even the wretched devils quake in fear at the sound of-”

            “Ladies,” Coach Rodney snapped. “Enough trash talk and get to the fight. This is Combat Skills 101, people. Take it seriously.”

            Darla sighed.

            “Whatever. Bring it on.”

            Arabelle was tall and gangly, towering at least five inches above Darla. But being small had its advantages, and Darla knew exactly how to utilize them.

            Arabelle’s fist shot out, directed to her face. Darla blocked it expertly, twisting Arabelle’s arm backwards. She was about to slam her onto the floor when Arabelle kicked out at Darla’s left shin.

            “Ow!” Darla yelled, swiftly kicking her back in the stomach. She winced-it wasn’t anything personal. She wished she didn’t have to hurt the perfectly friendly Arabelle.

            Arabelle moaned, doubling over onto the red mats. It was red, most likely, to cover the bloodshed from the mini battles that had taken place here for years.

            While Arabelle was splayed on the floor, Darla grabbed her hands and pinned them down, one knee positioned over her abdomen. Arabelle’s eyes, an ethereal silvery gray, stared back.

            Before Darla could count to three, Arabelle had flipped her over, her fist connecting with Darla’s lip. She tasted blood.

            “You’ll wish you didn’t do that!” Darla yelled, swiftly grabbing her shoulder and flipping her over so she landed with a thud on her back.

            In seconds, Darla latched on top of her and counted aloud.

            “1!”

            Arabelle shrieked and writhed, attempting to push her off.

            “2!”

            Arabelle’s legs began to flail, but Darla continued to keep them glued to the mats.