I said it before, but I really never forgot about that girl. The image of her, cloaked in lightning, would never leave my head. I tried to live my life in the same why that I imaged she lived hers. She was a girl, a hero, who risked life and limb to save me from a monster. Not only that, be she had done is so effortlessly, and completely without hesitation. What justice could there be if I didn’t try to live up to that image? If I didn’t train my body and try my best to stand up for those around me who could not?
I’m not saying I was always successful, mind you. I certainly brought trouble upon myself with my actions growing up. But at the same time, it was a pretty natural choice for me to step up when a classmate and friend needed help.
It happened while we were in the market, picking up some groceries on our way home from school. A Drake wandered into town. It didn’t see me, I was hidden in the stalls when it came by, but Hilda? Hilda, it cornered and took.
The drake had her back to the wall. It had brought her to its lair, where she was helplessly trapped. Helplessly trapped and hopefully alive. I had followed after it from a great distance. It left such a trail that it was easy enough to do. All along the way I would tell myself, over and over, that Hilda must still be alive. That it would have eaten her already if that had been its intention. I steeled myself against my own fear as best as I could, using Hilda’s name to invoke my courage.
I prayed that she was alive, but I knew that she was injured. Even if she could somehow get past the monster, she would never outrun its draconic breath. Even that small miracle would not last forever. The Drake’s lair was littered with bones.
It hadn’t seen me yet, hiding near the entrance to its den. I also knew that with each moment she went unrescued, her chances of survival became more dim. What I didn’t know was how to actually rescue her. There was no time to get help from town. Even if there was, few would be willing to brave the beast in its own element. Perhaps a ranger could help, but I had no way of finding one, or even knowing if such a person was nearby. No, there would be no help to be had. If someone was going to save her, it had to be me.
But how could I do it? I had no time to think and little idea on how to execute a rescue myself.
If I could get the monster’s attention, maybe I could distract it? Hilda might have a chance to slip out like that. I knew I was faster than her, even without her being injured. I was more likely to be able to evade the monster. I also had more places to hide and, back to to a wall, more directions to move in.
Of course, even if you succeed only two times in one hundred, that’s still better than one. I wasn’t thinking logically at the time, otherwise I would never have been outside of that cave in the first place.
I made up my mind, picked up the largest rock within arms reach and tossed it as hard as I could at the beast. The stone bounced harmlessly off of the armoured, interconnected plates that made up its hide, but it did enrage the beast all the same. It whirled around and let out a terrible roar, spewing fire from its mouth as it did. I had started running the moment the rock had left my hand, otherwise I’d have been caught right there, burnt up along with the shrubs that I had hidden in mere moments before.
I don’t think I have ever run quite as hard as I did that day, heedless of pitfalls in the dim woods and desperate to put some obstacle between me and the Drake’s flames. I dove behind a rocky outcropping just as the second fiery belch came after me. It felt uncomfortably hot but passed harmlessly overhead. The monster roared again with inhuman rage.
It could have rushed me down and had me almost right away, but it must have known it could have had me at any time and it made liberal use of its flame to cut off any possible escape. In the way of Dragons, its cruel intelligence shone brightest when it was hunting prey.
I knew I was trapped. There was no way to get past the walls of fire that now surrounded me. I could only hope that the distraction had been enough for Hilda to sneak away, that she was still alive and conscious and unhurt enough to escape from the lair and run far enough away that the chase wasn’t worth the effort for the Drake. Despite myself, I could feel the tears well up in my eyes. I didn’t want to die.
“Are you prepared to fight to live?”
The voice was strangely melodic. It had a layered sound combining the high pitched voice of a child with just a hint of a deeper, bassy sound underneath.
“Who...What are you?” My throat was hoarse by comparison, burning from both the running and from the flames around me. I struggled to catch my breath as I whispered my question.
The creature was small enough to sit within my palms. It was bright red with an orange belly and glowing eyes. It had six legs, with the hindmost pair stretching long underneath it’s hovering form and a long, bushy tail that seemed ready to twirl in the air as if the end wrapped around something I couldn’t see. It’s face was frog-like, with just a hint of the reptilian. Its body radiated a gentle heat and sat like a person might despite its many legs.
“You can call me Salamander. I’m a spirit of flame.”
Flame...the fire drake! I looked around in a panic, having lost track of the fire drake in my moment of distraction. Only the fire around me was no longer quite so close as before. The heat no longer quite so oppressive. The smoke was annoying whereas before it had been choking. It all still surrounded me, but it almost seemed to shy away, creating a small bubble around me which was safe.
“Are you prepared to fight to live?”
The spirit repeated its question. It was obvious that the spirit was responsible for holding the flames at bay, but it was known that spirits demanded action. It would not save me if I was unwilling to save myself.
“I am!” I spoke firmly, with conviction, headless of the nearby Drake within Salamander’s protective bubble.
“Good. I can offer you the power to save yourself, but it won’t come free.” The flames flickered as Salamander spoke, a reflection of the spirit’s approval, or a show of the weight of its words. “The cost of my boon is a life of conflict. You shall battle and battle until you are no longer able. You shall hunt your quarry and you shall feast upon the spoils of your conquest. I care not for your reasons, whether to protect or to avenge, but know that if you chose to live, your life will be a life of conflict until you meet your end.”
The words hung heavy in the air, more oppressive than the smoke that surrounded me. Those words were engraved upon my heart such that I would never forget them, even if I forgot everything else. Even under the spirit’s protection, the Drake was near and could only be delayed so long. Time was preciously short.
“Do you accept the terms?”
I forced myself to take a deep breath, choking back the smoke. The air burned my throat. The fires blinded my eyes. Salamander had said so itself. To protect or to avenge. I still remembered the yellow girl who had saved me all those years ago and wondered, idly, whether she had been given a similar bargain. There was only one true choice available. I only knew one way to live my life.
“I accept.”
Even as the words left my mouth, Salamander exploded into flames of every colour. They bathed my body but did not burn. Instead they filled me with energy.
I turned to face the Drake, clear against the smoke. It drew in breath and bellowed a firestorm. It washed off like a summer breeze. No fire could pass through my cloak of flame.
I raised my hand and found in it a sword. The blade was narrow but long. It should have been too large for me to carry, but it felt weightless in my hands. I knew how to use a sword and put my body behind it as I swung. As it arched through the creature’s leg the blade became wide and swelled with a fire so hot it burned pure white. So hot it could turn the armoured plating of the drake to ash. So hot that the monster would fear fire for the first time in its life, if only for a moment.
The drake fell dead and I walked away, determined to make sure Hilda made it out okay. As the Drake’s body turned to ash, an armoured plate appeared on upon my breast, copper and brilliant against the red of my blouse.
