Dragon Hunter

Chapter 18: Not So Soft Landing

Cooper floated in the darkness forever, his senses dulled and his mind reeling. 'Yup, I'm dead,' he darkly thought. 'I let that bat with two legs stab me in the back with a sword and I am dead! There's no coming back from that. I'm going to blink and find myself shaking hands with the devil in hell.'

Then he felt his body suddenly return to him. Only to be jerked and twisted around before searing pain filled him to overflowing. But, stuck in the darkness, he could only scream into the inky blackness that filled his senses, a silent howl that even he couldn't hear.

A final pull then, miraculously, his eyes were fluttering open.

"There he is," a firm, male noriquien voice said. "I thought you said he was mortally wounded, Ilya. He was only mortally nicked. Easy fix. Next time bring me something challenging."

Then the sword that had been punched through his body was being held over his face at a distance that allowed him to see the exquisite metalwork and intricate etching along the fuller. And his blood smeared along most of the blade's length.

"Here's the thorn in your paw, my friend," the voice that had chastised Ilya for bringing him a patient that wasn't challenging, said. "You can keep it as a souvenir or I can hand it to the smiths to have them melt it down. Up to you."

Cooper dragged the reply from deep within him.

"A souvenir," he managed and the voice laughed with delight.

"Ha! How delightful! Pale as a grub and two hands taller than any noriquien, but possessing the spirit and courage of a dozen men!" Then a smiling noriquien male face appeared, complete with a dapper goatee and long, curly hair spilling over his shoulders, both in the bright white color the noriquien seemed to have for their hair.

"It's all yours, my friend. I'll make sure all of your blood is washed from it, though," the dark elf said with a grin. "Wouldn't want any grim reminders of how you got it when you're showing it off to house guests!"

The dark elf and the sword both then disappeared. But the space immediately in his line of sight didn't remain empty for long. A handsome dark elf male then appeared to look down at him. Handsome except for the bump that spoke of a recently broken nose.

"Ilya," Cooper husked and the dark elf grinned.

"Dragon Hunter," he replied with a slight nod. "Good to see you're improving."

"Thanks to you hauling my ass off that road," Cooper managed to say with a grimace. "That was the second time in less than a half hour that a dark elf saved me from a dragon!"

Abruptly his eyes flew wide in alarm.

"Alia! She was with me on the road!" he exclaimed hoarsely, trying to sit up against the weakness in his abdomen.

"Peace, Dragon Hunter, peace!" Ilya said with a mollifying gesture made with both hands. "Beyless retrieved our good Guardian Captain before the black could purge the street with her acid attack. With even fewer dragon-made holes in her body than you, I might add."

Cooper sagged back against the bed, a wave of relief washing through him. The Guardian commander was down on that road only because he had bolted out of the temple, intent on killing dragons without actually knowing Eska's layout or understanding the true threat the dragons presented. She had come, likely to retrieve him at first, then deciding to fight with him once he revealed the existence of the relic he was chasing.

Regardless, she had come to him, and was there in that crazy fight at the end, with the black dragon gushing acid everywhere. If Alia had died in that, her blood would be on his hands and he would find it very difficult to live with himself. No other person should be forced to suffer for his personal crusade! Especially her.