Tales of the Lorekeepers 01 - Rise of the Red Dragon

men had built for him, was now being rolled into a ball of destructive power.
    The dark man carefully aimed his weapon at the fighting dragons, waiting for the red one to turn its back to him. Any second now, he would be able to execute the final part of his plan, and then it would all be over. He had won. Nothing could stop him now.
    Up in the sky, the red dragon launched himself on his foe and tried to take a bite out of the white beast’s wing. Doing so, it rolled over the white dragons, exchanging positions. The scarlet creature was now facing up, its back turned to Dinas Ffaraon.
    The dark man immediately seized the opportunity and unleashed all the energy from the base of the weapon. As it went through the top circle, it was magnified into a concentrated projectile of pure, primal energy, power that could create worlds, and destroy them in the blink of an eye.

    The red dragon was trying to defend itself from the claws of its foe. This fight was much more violent than their previous encounters. Maybe it was the thunderstorm or maybe it was the fact that they were free again, but both dragons seemed intent on putting an end to this eternal struggle.
    Suddenly, it felt something invading its spirit. It was as if someone was poking at its mind, pushing against its will. The creature felt the fear, the terror and the urgency of this stranger—emotions it had not felt in millennia. Then it heard the words in its head, a warning from an unknown ally.
    “Look down!”
    The red dragon did so, just in time to see an enormous projectile of green energy rushing in its direction. With one powerful beat of its wings, it turned to one side, barely avoiding the deadly projectile. The ball of energy only grazed its intended target, striking a wing of the white dragon instead, and immediately reducing it to ashes. The Saxon dragon screeched in pain, desperately trying to grab hold of its foe to avoid a deadly fall. Seeing its opponent struggle to remain in the air, the Briton dragon freed itself from its enemy’s grip and watched it fall to the ground. The white beast desperately tried to fly with one wing, but was only able to turn in circles, spiraling rapidly toward the hill of Dinas Ffaraon.

    The dark man could not believe his eyes. All his planning, all his careful scheming, reduced to nothing. He did not know why, but he had missed. The red dragon had seen the incoming projectile and turned away in time to avoid it.
    Fortunately, he had one last trick up his sleeve, but he would have to act quickly if he wanted to succeed.

    Samuel opened his eyes. He had felt it. He had made a connection with the red dragon. They had succeeded in warning it and now, as he looked up, he saw the white dragon spiral down toward the hill. As the beast crashed into the trees, the ground shook violently.
    Samuel looked at his hands, still holding Myrddin’s own. Another pair of hands had joined them, much smaller than their own. The fairy, Angeline, was holding one hand from each of the boys, adding her own energy to theirs.
    “I’m not supposed to, but I won’t tell if you don’t!” she said with a wink at Samuel.
    “Thank you,” Samuel said.
    “We did it!” exclaimed Myrddin, who had regained his perpetual smile. “We saved the red dragon!”
    Samuel smiled back at the young boy.
    Up in the sky, the dragon representing the Britons circled a few times over the hill, then plunged toward the area where the white dragon had crashed, most likely to make sure its enemy was down for good. Ambrosius and the others turned around, moving closer to the two young boys sitting across from each other.
    “Did you succeed? Is it over now?” asked Ambrosius.
    “Not quite,” answered Samuel.
    He stood up and looked at Angeline, who nodded to the young man. There was still one more thing to do; one last deed that needed to be accomplished by the Lorekeeper. Before anyone could stop him or ask questions, Samuel quickly took off and ran toward the north. As he passed by the fallen bodies of the guards assigned to their tent, he snatched up two short swords.
    “Samuel, wait!” called Malloy. “Where is he going?”
    “There is still one more enemy to take care of,” answered Myrddin. “He’s going to accomplish his destiny and make sure we are safe.”
    “Alone?” replied Malloy. “That boy! I swear, he does everything to get himself killed!”
    Without wasting any more precious seconds, Malloy went after Samuel, running as hard as