“Battle of the Century”

Author’s Note: This is a Take Ten to Write story and has not been proofread for errors. If I feel inspired or if there’s interest in the story, I’ll post a revised, edited, and extended version at a later date. Happy reading!

He pulled himself across the ground, sharpened rocks digging at his skin. With hands that felt like they were made of stone, he reached down to unstrap his armour; it was beyond useless now, a hinderance rather than a help.

An explosion shook the ground, but he carried on, set on completing his task. Ash carried on the wind flew into his eyes, but he blinked them away. Finally, he managed to free himself from the confines of his armour.

Trembling hands helped him push himself to his feet. His sword… There it was. Stuck into the unmoving body of the one he had once called friend.

Sheer willpower allowed him to make his way across the battlefield. Every movement was stiff, weighted down by the knowledge that his army was on its last legs. Reinforcements weren’t coming. He was alone.

Still, he wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t. He was alone. But he wasn’t done fighting.

His fingers grasped the pommel of his sword and he yanked. It slid free, singing as it settled into place in his hand.

Energy coursed back through his body. He had his weapon. He had his willpower.

He was ready.

He turned to face the dragon, its outline just barely visible through the smoke. It reared its head and released a terrible roar. But he wasn’t frightened. He would not run from battle.

He ran toward it.

He matched the dragon’s scream with his own, challenging the beast to the battle of the century. Their eyes met and an understanding passed between them.

Only one would leave this battle alive.

As he ran, the dragon let loose a stream of flames. He rolled, feeling the heat scorching the air just above him. At the end of his roll, he rose back to his feet and kept running. Claws whipped through the air toward him. He countered with steel of his own.

Sparks flew. His face contorted with the effort of maintaining his ground against the mighty creature.

One more shove, and he was free. The dragon pulled back its now-bloody foot, howling in pain.

As it stumbled, he saw his chance. Just above him, the break in the scales that left the heart unprotected.

He attacked. His sword struck with deadly accuracy.

He closed his eyes as the dragon collapsed.

Final Comments: I had a lot of trouble writing what I was imagining in my head. I think I was more focused on getting the plot out rather than describing everything I could see, but I wish I had focused more on the descriptions and only written a small part of the scene.

Overall Rating: 🤔