Into The Bright Sky — Act III: Sacrifice
Act III: Sacrifice
Three years… One for each egg… James brooded wistfully.
As if on cue, his dragon subtly bucked, warning him they would soon be descending.
“It is time, young master!” Heimlock roared.
“Easy, Heim. Three Thunderborn souls at stake here. It would be wise to exercise caution over emotion.” James commanded.
“May the Draken-gods look favorably upon us!” Heimlock confirmed, banking left into a smooth looping glide to survey the forest below.
They’d been tasked to recover three whelp eggs of the Bright Sky, stolen by the Warsharn tribe. A particularly vicious gang of dark elves, they provided nearly one fifth of all dragon boons on the black market, known to the underworld as The Pitch.
All dragon riders worked tirelessly to disrupt every poacher who supplied The Pitch. But since James had joined the Bright Sky, it seemed for every band of villains they stopped, two more rose in their place.
It had been three years since James had completed his Sacrament trial. Three years since James last spoke with his adopted father. But that was not by his choice.
To this day, James clung to the last words Eigyys had spoken to him.
You must become accustomed to working with Heimlock. I shall not interfere.
According to Eigyys, they could no longer speak due to the bylaws of the Drakvrend twelfth amendment. And while James trusted his father, he was eternally skeptical of how often his father used ‘ritual’ and ‘tradition’ to do whatever he pleased whenever times got tough.
Three years… James thought to himself in sad frustration.
“Three eggs!” Heimlock boomed, “There!”
A few leagues away, five silhouettes surrounded a campfire. A band of dark elves preparing for another night of celebration. Their successful heist had scored three perfectly intact whelp eggs plus many other dragon artifacts and trinkets.
Suddenly, the movements in the camp below became frantic and stiff. They moved about like frenzied ants preparing for a harsh rainstorm.
A silent alarm had been raised.
“A ward has detected us! Orders!” Heimlock growled in disgust.
James closed his eyes and took a deep breath, half in annoyance, half in concern. After the mission, he was certain that most of the night would now be spent listening to drawn out apologies from Heimock for being so careless on this approach.
“I see them!” James shouted, “Keep going!”
Close to the campfire were three eggs. Each one of them the size of a giant’s head; one blue, one white, and one green. Upon seeing the green egg, James froze.
Eigyys…
“Orders! …Young master?!” Heimlock blared, snapping James back to attention.
“You take the three elves to the south, I’ll take the two north. Blue and white are yours. Mine, green. Dive now, quickly!” James howled, steeling his mind against his emotion.
With a flap of wings and a sudden burst of effort, their approach went from free-fall, into dive, then became a blur. The flames radiating from every orifice on Heimlock’s arrow-like head gave them the appearance of a shooting star falling rapidly to earth.
Elven shouts of command were the last sounds James heard before Heimlock reached ground. The dragon slammed his entire weight down between the two encamped tents, ready to engage. In one smooth motion he whipped his head to the left, a blaze of sapphire flame leaping from his mouth while his tail wrapped protectively around the blue and white eggs behind him.
Caught in the blast, one of the elves let out a scream of agony before his vocal cords turned to char. What was left of him crumpled into ash on the ground.
James heard more than saw his Drakvrend’s opening volley.
A few feet before Heimlock touched down, James had leapt from his saddle, aiming for the elf closest to his egg. Flying through the air, he angled Alluin to slam the round-shield straight into the dark elf’s neck, extinguishing its life instantly.
Immediately, James sprang into an athletic crouch, shifting his stance towards the egg less than 40 yards away. Blocking his path was a particularly nasty looking elf, with teeth sharpened to sharklike points and blood-smeared armor flashing in the firelight.
“Yield! Let us go and you can salvage these drakelings!” He snarled, menacingly pointing to the egg with his battle axe.
As the elf spoke, James saw out of the corner of his eye that Heimlock was already finishing his half of this bloody work.
It was too late to yield.
In a flash, James drew a dragonfang dagger from his belt and flung it with all his might. His foe felt more than saw it heading straight towards his throat, reflexively raising his weapon in defense. It struck forcefully into the flat side of his enemy’s axe, causing both elf and axe to careen backwards.
The dark elf lay prone in a daze as light red viscera began to stream from the egg.
“No! Juuk! No!!!” James screamed, with Heimlock crying out simultaneously in anguish.
Their screams shook the dazed pirate out of his reverie. Sensing the fury building in James’ shuddering form, he bolted for his tent to the north. As he disappeared into the shadows of the tent flap, James turned to Heimlock.
“Burn him…” he croaked through tears of rage, “Torch it all.”
Heimlock’s eyes flashed as he took a deep intake of breath, his belly becoming fully engorged. A thunderous roar shook the entire camp as he let loose with all his fire and fury. A white stream of flame engulfed the tent, a dragon blast the likes of which James had never seen before. He continued the onslaught for almost a full minute, then abruptly laid his head to the ground in mourning.
The confrontation was finished. But for the Bright Sky, any loss of dragon-life was unacceptable. This mission was a failure.
James and Heimlock worked in awkward silence to prepare the surviving eggs for transport. James’s face was a mask of grief and he could not look Heimlock in the eye.
“It was not your fault.” Heimlock said, though he sensed something else was not quite right with James.
“It was… my… responsibility…” James sniffled.
“Your thoughts and feelings are muddled. You must release some tension before taking on any further duties.” Heimlock bristled, unaccustomed to his rider being so emotionally vulnerable. Especially while on duty.
“Perhaps you should visit the Paramour. A clever courtesan always wipes away the past to start anew.”
James was in no mood for any services the Paramour could provide. He’d never felt comfortable covering up grief with passion or lust. He had never felt comfortable covering up grief with passion or lust. But he could not deny Heimlock spoke true. He was not fit for duty until he took care of one thing.
“You’re right. I need to clear my head.” James mumbled, fastening the two remaining eggs to Heimlock’s undercarriage and firmly slapping the side of the saddle.
“Take me home.” He said coldly.
BK’s responses will be delayed from November 18th-30th. He is roaming around Japan on vacation.