His plan was simple - sneak up on the sleeping dragon and slice her throat.
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The elf stood in the deep cavern, looking at the huge stone columns that rose to the vaulted ceiling. Each column was carved with intersecting circles and triangles, whose meaning was long forgotten but to a few. It had once been part of some mage’s castle many an age ago, but when the world had been ripped apart during the dragon wars, most of the great architectural triumphs of the time had been lost. Like the few other surviving wonders, this one had been entombed under what was now a mountainous region of Methallion.
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Sweat beaded and ran down his face as he made his way closer to where the beautiful white dragon lay curled; her tail wrapped around her head. Doubt came trickling into his mind. This dragon had saved his life; she had taken him in and raised him. The elf’s smooth, pale face creased into a snarl. It’s the only way.
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Sword in hand, he quickened his pace. His heart thumping in his chest seemed loud enough to wake a hoard of dragons, let alone just this one. The rise and fall of Emturalique’s chest brought back memories that the elf wished to forget. He recalled times when the grief of his parents’ death had become too much for him and he had lain crying against the dragon until sleep had finally claimed him.
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She had her chance and she refused to help, the elf thought, steeling himself to the task.
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The sword that he held was a battered old thing, but far sharper than it looked. Magically enhanced it would cut through the dragon’s scales easily. Standing by Emturalique’s massive head, he stared down at her exposed neck. Raising the sword he gritted his teeth.
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Emturalique lay still. She was not asleep. She knew that she was destined to die this night and didn’t want to make it any harder for her young apprentice. She did not fear death, because death would come before life could begin anew. She had seen it in her visions. It seemed an eternity since the boy had entered the cavern. What is taking him so long?
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Impatience had always been the one fault she couldn’t quite conquer. Flicking open an eye to see where he was, her eye locked with the oval eyes of her apprentice.
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Sword still hovering over the prone dragon, the elf didn’t know if he could do it. His whole body trembled, not with fear, but with anguish at his actions. The dragon’s eye snapped opened and stared right at him. The hammering in his chest doubled in speed. Reacting to his terror, the elf brought the blade down. For my family.
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The blade sliced through her neck, causing golden blood to splash over his hands. Dropping the sword, he ran. The dragon’s gurgling cries echoed behind him as he fled through the dark halls. When at last he emerged into the silver moonlight, he slowed to a walk.
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He stared at his hands. What have I done? What have I become?
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The liquid that had shone so brightly was now thick and black. He tried to fling it away, but it clung, refusing to loose its hold. Screaming in frustration, he looked back into the dark cave. He knew he’d have to go back in. Collecting the dragon’s blood and drinking the precious liquid was the only way he could gain the power he needed.
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