THUD—
The man's breath fled from his lungs. His knees slammed into stone flooring, looming over his disarmed golden mace.
Across from him loomed a red dragon, it eclipsed the sunshine beaming through the clerestory windows.
The cleric dipped his chin, eyes racing towards a bundle strapped in his breastplate—locking in a fur-wrapped infant, sniveling in a voice too soft for a battlefield.
Stay quiet, little one. Please . . . If he notices you—
The dragon lips curled, revealing burgundy- stained fangs. It's growl sheared through the baby's wallow's like cutting paper.
"Face me fairly, mortal." the beast hounded. "You've held your own against me for an hour. Dispose of the boy, and we shall continue our fight."
The cleric's legs trembled. The weight of those words carved through him like a blade. Dispose of my son . . . Could I . . . Could I even fufill such a request?
His wounds burned. Blood soaked through the gaps of his dented armour. He could feel the strength bleeding out of him with each passing breath. If this continues . . . I'll — die?! I'll die and he'll kill—
"Dragon!" he shouted hoarsely. "Spare my boy, and I throw away my fighting spirit. Take my life—just not his."
The dragon's laugh thundered in the cathedral-like dungeon. "Pathetic. Why would I end such an amusing fight just to spare a child?"
"Please—" The cleric's voice cracked. His knees bent, not from strength, but from despair. He collapsed onto the tiled floor, tears dripping freely. I can't lose him. I can't. Not after everything…
"Pity is not in a dragon's nature," the beast hissed. "I accept no bargains. Lift your weapon, or burn where you kneel!"
His gaze drifted to his mace—scuffed, dented, and far from the weapon it once was. His helmet lay at the far end of the chamber, half-melted in the belly of fire the dragon had spewed minutes ago.
I'm already half-dead. I can't even hold that thing steady…
Still, his hand stretched, trembling, until it found the haft of the golden mace. He forced himself to stand, every muscle screaming in pain.
The dragon's smirk widened. "Yes… that's it. Come, cleric! Slay me and save your boy, if you think yourself capable!"
The man pressed his back foot against the cobblestone, driving himself into a desperate lunge—
WOOSH!—
A pillar of flame erupted from the dragon's maw, engulfing the ground in front of him.
The cleric was swallowed whole.
Agony beyond words. His armor seared to his skin, blackening and peeling the flesh beneath. His blood boiled and hissed, evaporating before it even touched the stone floor.
"AAAHHHHHHH—!" His scream was raw, ragged, almost inhuman. This is hell. This is what hell feels like.
The dragon bared its teeth in a grin that stretched too wide. "Useless! All humans fall the same. You thought you were different? You're not. You're vermin!"
But then—
From within the blaze, a shadow broke free.
The man stumbled forward, his body a grotesque ruin, armor melted and fused into his flesh. He collapsed on the tiles, writhing in pain, barely recognizable as the warrior he had been moments ago.
"Save me…" His voice was a whisper, torn between rage and desperation.
Darkness closed in. The dragon's massive shape blurred, fading. Am I… dying?
Through the haze of pain, he thought he saw someone. A familiar face.
Brother…?