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Sangrelysia
by Vivian Darkbloom
Lunch Break
What is it that hypnotizes about a waterfall? Is it the mystery
of infinity? The endless variations on a theme, of waves of
falling mist, the elusive endlessness like the chasing of a
rainbow?
In the battle between the fatiguing necessity to remain alert for
danger, and reluctance that dragged my bones towards the peaceful
earth, I found myself sitting momentarily to rest on a boulder,
transported, lost in contemplation.
It took several moments to recognize the familiar silence, to
notice that the falling waves of mist my mind was absently
chasing had ceased their descent, and were now frozen like
delicate glaciers.
Time had halted.
Breathless footsteps hastened in my direction up the path from
where the group had stopped for lunch. Sylvia, dress askew,
forehead wrinkled with worry.
"You've got to come quick! There's been an ambush!"
"You stopped time," I teased. "I thought you said you didn't know
how to do magic."
"Quickly! This is serious. Masked bandits with swords, on horses.
Carrying blue and white banners. All of a sudden, they were
surrounding us. You've got to come, quick!"
"Blue and white," I mused. "The colors of Valeplysia."
"Hurry --"
I hushed her, putting a finger to my lips. I could sense that
someone had followed her out of time. My senses raced, combing
the silence for details. Slow steady footsteps, quiet, unhurried,
self-assured.
A figure dressed from head to toe in white illuminated the
clearing, as she stepped into sight slowly and deliberately, tall
and imposing. She chuckled humorlessly. "At last, we meet. The
nameless wizard of Sangrelysia."
I was stunned. "You must be Elwrong," I replied.
"I am."
I found myself laughing in spite of myself.
A cold glare. "What's so funny, Wizard," she asked quietly.
"It's just. . ." I tried to get a grip, "Wait until King George
finds out that you're a woman."
She shrugged, deliberately pacing, like a jaguar readying for the
death-pounce. "He's a useful puppet. A mindless imbecile, of
course."
"Of course."
She was young, stunningly attractive with pale skin and
platinum-blonde hair tied back into a bun, to match the white
outfit, from white boots with elevated heels, to her long white
fur-lined coat, to the cute little white hat perched atop her
head ever so stylishly adorned with white roses. "Though perhaps
it would be better to be a man. I would gain more respect."
"You subdued the red dragon of the North," I said.
She laughed, her pride showing now through the harshness. "And
for that, the bards will rejoice in my name for ever more. You,
however, have no name to rejoice, do you Wizard?"
"Things I do help people, rather than trampling them in a mad
rush for power."
With a sardonic grin, she strolled closer. "Our young princess is
quite talented, I notice. Not many girls her age could halt the
gears of time so adeptly." She crouched in front of Sylvia, face
to face. "Why do you waste your time with your weak and wrinkled
friend here? You should join me. We could do great things
together, you and I. I do adore children." She caressed Sylvia's
cheek with a slender finger.
Sylvia spat in her face, a big ol' lugey.
Elwrong retreated quickly, facing away while she pulled a
handkerchief from her pocket. "Quite a spirited young lady, is
it? Most regretful choice you are making, I must say." She spun
unexpectedly, and from the corner of my eye I saw it fly. Without
thinking, I threw myself between her and the Princess, and felt a
sharp pain in my left calf, just above the top of my boots. Had
the dart fallen just a centimetre lower, it would have glanced
off with no further effect.
At first it felt like nothing.
Elwrong seemed amused that she had missed her mark. "Why, Wizard.
How noble of you. Ever the protector of the damsel in distress.
Guess you'll be needing some Dragon's blood!" she cackled. She
seemed to be readying another dart.
Angry now, I waved my hand impatiently, pushing her back into the
frozen time stream. Frozen in her moment of grotesque humor,
laughing at me, gloating over her poisoning of me.
I felt the magical protection surging to contain the venom. It
was a momentary struggle to remain standing, but I succeeded.
Carefully, I pulled out the dart, and dropped it into a small
leather satchel for future inspection.
"What does she mean, Dragon's blood?" asked Sylvia, worried.
"Antidote for arcynine," I said. "Quickly, we haven't much time.
Climb on to my back. It will be easier."
She gasped at the name of the poison. "Does that mean you're
going to die?"
"Were you planning not to?"
Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Wrong time to wax
philosophical, I suppose.
"I'll be OK for now," I replied. "I invoked some spells for
protection before we left that castle, and they should hold it in
check."
"Do you have dragon's blood?" she asked quietly as I knelt down
so she could climb on, her arms around my neck, legs wrapped
around my waist, sweet moistness pressed against the middle of my
back.
"A bit difficult to obtain. You'd have to kill the dragon."
"Maybe if it was a girl dragon, you could get some when she was
at that, you know, time of month."
I laughed, feeling her weight delightfully bouncing on my back as
I strode quickly along the path away from the clearing. "I'll let
you go talk to a dragon at that time of the month."
Refreshing cold droplets prick my senses into alertness. It has
begun to rain.
Chapter 12
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