The pressure surged through my ribs like a second heartbeat, the vibration climbing through my bones and prickling my scales.
The Balrog lunged. Instinct took over.
I inhaled.
Power surged through my lungs and burst outward as I released my breath.
The flame, so ineffective the first time, struck the Balrog square in the chest and drove it back with a force that shook the air and rattled the cavern. It staggered backwards, trying in vain to halt its momentum as the pressure intensified.
Sharp cracking rang out as the stone split along the walls.
The Balrog smashed into the far wall hard enough to collapse a section of the rock.
The hum inside my chest faded.
I staggered at the sudden loss of power and my limbs trembled in protest as weakness swept through me.
I turned and ran.
The tunnel leading upward scraped against my scales as I forced my body through the narrow parts. Every step drove pain and agony through my injuries but I did not slow. I could not.
Behind me, the Balrog roared, the sound rolling through the tunnel like thunder.
Heat kissed my hindquarters as the creature gave chase. The stone around the passage cracked and shuttered as rock began to fall.
Larger and larger chunks slammed into my scales, some digging into unprotected opening.
I winced but climbed harder.
The platform above came into view. I hauled myself through the opening and dragged my body clear into the ruins above.
Cold air struck my burns and the ground trembled under my claws.
The entrance behind me collapsed as the tunnels beneath Utum gave way, falling inward. Rock plunged into the abyss as the Balrog's rage shattered the passageways.
I staggered away, the edges of my vision blurring.
A falling slab struck my flank as the ruins shifted and the impact tore another wound as my scales were ripped away. A scream stuck in my throat as I was driven, sideways, into the snow.
I forced myself forward.
The sky above was the only way out.
My wings opened, pain tearing through my shoulder, as I threw myself into the air. The damaged membrane dragged me down as I fought to gain height above the sinking ruins.
Utum shrank below and smoke drifted upward as the last of Utum vanished into the depths below.
My flight only lasted moments.
My wings failed.
The membrane gave way in a tearing pain as I twisted in midair. My body rolled sideways as the wind tore control from me, forcing me into the earth.
The mountainside rushed upward to greet me.
I struck the slope and slid down through snow and shattered stone. My claws tore trenches through the ice before catching against an outcrop, halting my fall.
For a moment, I could not move.
Blood spread across the snow beneath my ribs.
Every breath burned. My vision was clouded with pain and I could not even see the snow in front of me.
I know not how long I lay there, struggling to breathe. Struggling to stay awake.
Footsteps crunched nearby.
Not the heavy stride of orcs. Not the soft pads of wolves.
Light steps. Careful.
I forced my eyes open. I could not move my body, but I wanted to see who my end would be.
Through drifting snow, a figure approached along the slope. Pale hair moved in the wind and a fur cloak trailed behind her as she stopped several paces away.
An elf.
She watched me carefully, with one hand resting near the hilt of the blade at her side. A bow lay across her back with a quiver of arrows and the shine or armor poked through.
(IMAGE)
Our eyes connected as she tensed, but my exhaustion forced me to close them again. The last thought that crossed my mind before darkness was simple.
Resignation. She would probably kill me.
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??? POV
Snow drifted across the slope in slow sheets as she crested the ridge.
The sound of the impact had carried far through the mountains, a thunder of stone and force that echoed through the valleys below. She had followed the noise cautiously, keeping to the higher rocks where the wind could hide her scent.
When she finally came upon the dragon, she stopped.
The creature lay half-buried in churned snow and broken stone; wings spread unevenly along the slope with one laying uselessly, the membrane torn open. Blood darkened the snow beneath it as the harsh snow of the Northern Wastes started to cover it.
Heat escaped in thin trails from exposed leather skin where scales had been ripped free.
It was alive. Barely.
She remained still for several breaths, studying it from her concealed position. Dragons were not creatures one approached lightly, no matter how injured they appeared.
The head lay tilted sideways against the stone, jaw slightly opened as slow breaths escaped in the cold air, coming in a faint rasp that carried up to her the slope toward her.
Burns covered its body. Not the kind dragons make.
She crept closer.
The wound along its shoulder had been seared in long bands where flame had forced its way beneath the scales, the edge of the burns were blackened and cracked.
She had seen dragon fire before. This was different.
The scent of it clung to the air, sulfur and old iron digging into her senses.
Her gaze lifted toward the distant ruins far to the south.
Utumno.
The old stories whispered among her people spoke of a fortress as a grave where terrible thing has once walked the world. She had never seen any of those horrors. She never believed in them.
Now she was less certain.
Her eyes returned to the dragon.
Up close it was younger than she expected, large enough to kill her without effort if it was at full strength, but not yet the size of the ancient beasts that haunted the War of Wrath.
Its chest rose slowly. Fell. Rose again.
She circled carefully to its head, always maintaining distance from the jaws. Even unconscious, a dragon's bite could cut a man in half.
The torn wing bore marks of something gripping it and tearing, the edges cauterized by heat strong enough to melt stone.
Her hand rested lightly on the sword at her waist. If the creature woke suddenly, she would have only a moment to move.
The dragon shifted in the snow.
She froze.
One of its eyes slowly opened, the pupil narrowing as it focused on her through the drifting flakes. The movement was sluggish, the kind that came from a warrior whose body was beyond its limits.
Their gazes met.
She expected rage. Or fury.
Dragons in the stories were evil and burned anything that moved.
This one simply watched her.
No malice. No hatred.
Just fatigue and pain. The expression was not what she expected.
Blood seeped from the broken scales along its ribs, the sound of its drip the only thing breaking the silence between them.
Eventually, the dragon's breathing slowed as the strength left its body. The eye watching her dimmed, the focus fading, as exhaustion overcame whatever stubborn will kept it alive.
For a moment longer, it continued to look at her, then the eyelid lowered. The massive head sank deeper into the snow and the creature went still.
Only the slow breathing remained.
After another long moment, she stepped forward again and crouched near its shoulder, studying the burn marks again.
It was confirmed. These were not wounds left by another dragon, something else had done this.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she stood.
The wind shifted across the ridge and carried the distant scent of smoke from the south. She followed it with a gaze until the ruined horizon swallowed the trail.
Whatever happened there, the dragon survived it. For now.
Moving back several paces, she sat upon a flat stone overlooking the slope. From here, she could watch the creature while keeping enough distance to put an arrow in its eye if it woke violently.
It was too injured to go anywhere.
Her bow rested across her knees.
The dragon breathed slowly.
The snow continued to fall.
Time passed quietly on the mountain side.
Eventually, the creature stirred again, opening its eyes.
She rose slowly as the dragon's gaze found her across the stone. For a moment neither of them spoke as they assessed one another.
Then the dragon's voice broke the silence.