Enter Abyss

Chapter 38; The dragon races.

The general objective was to make three laps around the amphitheater, which Archer found easy enough to remember.

Still, once he and Mordren were lined up, he could not help but feel his gut lurch uncomfortably and his palms grew sweaty from nervousness. 

And it was only when the horn was blown that he realized he had no idea how to ride a dragon.

Unfortunately, it was too late and in a flash, Mordren's dragon had launched itself off the ground and into the air, beating its wings furiously as it gained height. With frantic motions, Archer kicked his heels into Ardistan's side, begging the dragon to move.

Thankfully, the beast seemed to get the point and with a lurch that nearly sent Archer tumbling out of the saddle, the dragon lunged into the sky, smoothly flapping its wings till it was only several paces behind Mordren's dragon.

"Alright," Archer breathed, his heart in his throat, "At least I'm still alive." he hesitated for a moment, then said to Aristan, "Do you suppose you could go faster?"

He wasn't quite sure if the dragon could understand surface world tounge, but he figured it was worth asking nicely.

And apparently, asking nicely was all he needed, for at that moment Ardistan pumped his blood red wings harder and they glided past Mordren and over the heads of the crowds below.

It was then that Archer took a deep breath, feeling the brush of air against his face as they soared, the beating of wings and the cheering of the crowd the only sound in his ears. A thrill went through him, and he found himself grinning in spite of it all.

Never before had he felt so free, so alive. It was a magical feeling riding upon the back of a dragon; feeling its warmth and power underneath him. He breathed in again, laughing breathlessly, wanting this simple moment to last forever.

But that moment shattered into a thousand pieces when Mordren glided up beside them, beating and shouting at his dragon furiously.

Gripping at the saddle tighter, Archer gave a reasuring pat to Ardistan, gently urging the dragon to fly faster.

But for all his asking nicely did, Mordren's beatings and cursing did justas well and for the first two laps both dragons were neck and neck, flying side by side, evenly matched.

It was only during the second half of the third lap that things went horribly wrong.

Archer was in the midst of urging his dragon to go onward, telling the beast that they only had a bit more to go. By now, his heart threatened to beat out of his chest and his body was nearly shaking. His hands gripped the bridle till his knuckles turned white and all trace of a smile were gone from his face.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mordren bash his dragon over the head with a whip of sorts, then his gaze locked with Archer's own and the king's eyes narrowed. Then before Archer cry out, Mordren yanked his dragon's bridle to the side, crashing his own beast into Ardistan.

Archer clutched to his dragon's neck for dear life, trying not to think of the dizzying drop below. Grabbing the reigns, he tried edging Ardistan away from Mordren's dragon only to have the beast crash into them again. This time, however, the hit drove Ardistan's wing into the wall of the amphiteater, and the dragon roared in pain as bones and tendons snapped.

Gasping, Archer felt the dragon begin to fall not thirty paces from the end of the race.

Time seemed to slow, and Archer felt a moment stretch into eternity as he gazed into the dragon's eyes, dulling, full of pain, and something else....

Understanding.

It was then that Archer made his desision.

Unhitching himself from the saddle, Archer pulled a lever from his flying machine and launched himself off of his dragon's descending form.

Keeping his eyes fixated on the end of the race, Archer saw out of the corner of his eye Mordren and his dragon quickly fall behind as he glided past them. Gritting his teeth, he heard the heavy thud of Ardistan's body crash into the ground behind him and a weak whimper filled the air. 

Archer did not, however, see the orb of fire come sailing his way till it hit the wing of his flying machine, sending him spiraling past the finish line and crashing into the ground, his head hitting something solid, the bones in his left leg feeling as though they shattered.

In a blur, the world shifted upside down, noises faded, and pain clouded Archer's mind as he sank into a black oblivion with only the vague thought that he had won.

He had won.

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