Prince of Dragons

Chapter 2 - Chase

He heard footsteps. Running footsteps. And they were getting closer. 

Arwund grunted. He tried to run faster, but his legs felt like pudding and every step seemed to worsen his tremendous exhaustion. Sooner or later he would have to stop. He just hoped he would get a chance to shake of the person chasing him before that happened. 

He spot a door in the distance. It was probably the end of the corridor. He cast a look over his shoulder, but he couldn't see the other person yet. He could hear his footsteps right around the corner, though. 

He pulled the door open, ran through it, and slammed it shut behind him. In front of him was a spiral staircase, just like on the other end of the dungeons. As he began climbing it as fast as he could, two steps at a time, he hoped it wouldn't last too long. If he had to run for much longer, he feared he was going to throw up. 

After just twenty steps or so, he heard someone open the wooden door downstairs. With a shock, he realised he wasn't going to make it. If only he had enough energy left to create fire, but if he did that right now, there was a chance his body would - a door! 

Heart pounding, he pushed down the metal door handle... 

... and entered a room where some fair lady was having her golden hair combed by a maid. They both looked up in shock, clearly not expecting any visitors to come from that direction. 

Panting heavily, he tried to give her his most charming smile and quickly bowed. Then he ran towards the open window and looked down. He was a few feet above ground level. He could easily jump out of the window into the moat. 

In different circumstances, the idea of jumping into a castle moat would have disgusted him, but his life and his freedom depended on it. 

"Milady," he said to the fair-haired damsel, "if you would excuse me." 

With these words, he climbed trough the window and let himself drop into the brown-coloured water. He pinched his nose right before his body hit the surface. 

Water wasn't supposed to be this colour. That he knew. And as far as he was aware, all those... things he saw weren't supposed to be in it either. But hey, he'd seen worse in the cities. 

He resurfaced. As quickly as he could, he swam. His arms felt like lead. His whole body seemed to be dragging him down into the depths of the moat. Black spots were beginning to cloud his vision. 

Don't you faint right now, he thought to himself. Don't you dare faint right now. 

With his last bit of strength, he dragged himself onto the shore. Before the darkness overwhelmed him, he caught himself thinking, So close. So damn close.

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Enorwin, feeling significantly less exhausted than the escaped prisoner, saw the open door only seconds after Arwund had jumped into the water. 

He hesitated. Could he enter a damsel's room? That went against every idea of courteousness he had ever been taught. He decided to stick to courtly etiquette in some manner: he climbed the stairs, looking away from the room, and knocked the open door. 

"Excuse me, milady, can I enter?" he called. 

"Lord Enorwin!" was the lady's reply. "By all means, you can enter. You are the prince of the Flaming Lands." 

"Thank you, milady," Enorwin said, before turning around and entering. He made sure to bow before walking to the window. And there, he saw what he was looking for: Arwund Marholdson, lying on his stomach on the shore of the moat, his clothes drenched with moat water. He appeared to be unconscious. Apparently, the gods had been kind to Enorwin. 

He left the room, bowing again, and continued climbing the stairs. After this whole chase, the infamous draconic human had been delivered to him on a silver platter. Now he would just have to drag him back into the castle.

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When Arwund was slowly coming to his senses again, the first thing he felt was hunger. Overwhelming hunger. The last time he had felt this way, was when he had got lost in the mountains of the Northlands and didn't eat for two days. On top of that, his muscles ached. Terribly. 

He slowly opened his eyes, expecting to find himself bound in his cell. But he didn't. Instead, he was sitting at a wooden table right across a young man, who looked about seventeen years old. The room was lit through a small window, and he judged by the light that it was about sunset. 

"Where... am I?" he heard himself ask. 

The young man laid aside the book he had been reading. He looked Arwund in the eye, trying to look strict and determined. However, Arwund couldn't help think that the look was so overdone that it got almost childlike. "You are still in the castle, Arwund." 

"And who might you be?" 

The youngster looked shocked. "You don't know who I am?" 

"Oh, of course I know who you are," Arwund replied sarcastically. "That's why I asked." 

The young man shook his head and looked at him as if he were some kind of vermin. "I am Enorwin," he said, "prince of the Flaming Lands and heir apparent to the throne." 

"Heir apparent," Arwund repeated, feigning an impressed expression. "Sounds fancy." 

"Do you realise what that means?" Enorwin asked, clearly annoyed. "It means you shouldn't talk to me in such a disdainful fashion." 

"Disdainful? Me?" Arwund asked with a smile. 

Enorwin rolled his eyes. "Enough. We ought to get down to business." 

"Well, what do you need me for, Enorwin?" 

"It's 'my lord' for you, Arwund," Enorwin corrected him. "Look, I understand you are a... draconic human." He pronounced the word as though it was some kind of horrible swear word no-one was allowed to hear him say. Now who's being disdainful? Arwund thought. 

"Yes. I am a 'draconic human'. Now what?" Arwund said. 

"I have been sent out on a quest," Enorwin explained. "There are... rumours in the Flaming Lands. Rumours about a kind of draconic threat. We don't know any details, but my father desires to know more about this. That is why he has asked me to investigate." 

"And you think I can help you with your little 'quest', o courageous knight?" Arwund asked. 

If looks could kill, Arwund would have choked. However, Enorwin managed to suppress his anger at the manner in which the rogue spoke to him. "You know more about dragons and draconic humans than I do," he said simply. 

"Ah, so you want me to betray my own kind." Arwund smiled. "You can count yourself lucky that we draconic humans aren't a very tight group. I may be willing to help." He leaned back. "But what's in this for me?" 

Enorwin closed his eyes. "You can have your freedom," he said. "I don't particularly like the idea of some fire-breathing villain going unpunished, but I am afraid I have no choice. It's for the greater good." 

Arwund had to admit the idea was tempting. He would be free to stand wherever he wanted, without being chased by the earl's servants. Then he made his decision. 

"Alright," he said, "we've got ourselves a deal. Where do we start? Oh, and just so you know, I'm hungry. Very hungry." 

Enorwin got up from his chair. "We start," he said, "by getting you to bathe. You smell." He walked to the wooden door leading out of the room, but before he left, he turned around. "Oh, and Arwund?" he said. 

"What?" 

"Please don't dive into moats again. And don't just run into a lady's bedchamber when in a castle. Is that clear?" 

"Completely," Arwund said, grinning.

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Hi everyone! The drawing that goes with this chapter is Enorwin's. Enjoy! And if you haven't done so yet, my awesome friend @sushipanda99, who drew these pictures, has written some really cool stories as well, so it would be great if you checked them out!