A snowflake drifted eerily down the dark night sky, joined by many of its brethren. Fresh snow crunched under Mikol’s bare feet, and he shivered. Mikol tucked his torn, brown jacket close to his body, shivering. His long, messy hair whipped behind him, carried by the cold winter winds. His emerald green eyes darted quickly around the snow-covered spruce trees.
Mikol kept walking, his entire body shaking. He wore brown rags that did little to protect him from the cold. There was quite a lot of space between the trees, but a surprising amount of overgrowth and snow made Mikol’s trek slow and miserable. But he kept on walking.
After a few hours, he left the forest. That was good. With his teeth chattering, Mikol walked on. He could no longer feel his feet as he walked. His feet aching, and his hands trembling, he stopped at a stone wall. The wall reached beyond his sight, and he followed it for some time, reassured by the red dragon emblems that decorated the wall. The wall was taller than he could see, but the parts he could see were flecked with snow and permafrost.
At last, he found two large bronze doors with two red dragon emblems carved in them. Shivering, he held up his hand and forced it to knock on the bronze. There was no response. He knocked again, this time as loud as he could muster. This time, the door creaked open.
Mikol found himself face to face with a man wearing dark grey armor embedded with red emblems and a woman in a warm, puffy coat and a gold necklace. A guard and a Lady.
“What brings you here?” The guard snorted through his helmet.
Mikol tried to speak, but his frozen lips refused to do so,
The Lady spoke in a comforting voice, “It shouldn’t matter; he’s cold and probably a few minutes short of frostbite. Come on, get in.”
The guard grumbled and led Mikol to a small hut with two other children like him.
In the hut, they were provided with food and water, but to Mikol, the fireplace was all that mattered. After an entire night of walking in the snow, he was frostbitten and cold. The other children, a boy and a girl, seemed to feel the same way,
The hut was the size of a master bedroom, with a locked door connected to a castle. Bunk beds stood in one corner of the room, while a bookshelf stood in another.
Mikol’s gaze fell to the books, and memories came to him. He remembered when he didn’t have to be constantly on the run. He remembered when his parents were alive. And he remembered the books. The ones his mother read to him. He picked up a book and started to read, but he was much too tired and fell into a dreamless sleep.
The next day, Mikol woke up at three o’clock sharp. He had to keep moving, or else It would catch up. He looked at the hut and the sleeping children one last time took some leftover food and ran off.
The floor inside the stone walls was lined with stone bricks, with a few trees in pots and lamp posts. He arrived at the large bronze doors, which two soldiers guarded. Mikol ran off before they could interrogate him, hiding behind a potted acacia tree.
He was still thinking of a solution when the soldiers found him. They wore lighter armor than the guard and held swords and shields with a bow and quiver slung across their backs. Their helmets and weapons all bore red dragon emblems.
“What are you doing this early in this part of the kingdom?” said the first one gruffly.
Mikol’s mind raced with ideas. He could run, but outrunning trained soldiers would be impossible. And fighting them would be a death sentence.
“Well?” asked the second soldier fiercely, tightening his grip on his sword.
Suddenly, the bronze doors creaked open, and both soldiers turned around in shock. And there It was. The Bloodbringer.
Its black shape was incomprehensible at first, but it slowly formed into the rough shape of a wingless dragon. As tall as two men and as long as three, its black scales shined red with the fresh blood of a recent kill. Its night black claws gripped against the floor, creating a sound like a human scream. Its tail waved around tauntingly. Sharp, needle-like bristles sprouted at random on its body. Its long snout seemed to smile cruelly, showing off its pitch-black teeth.
It stared at Mikol with its glowing, bloodshot eyes and let out a screech. Then, with a flash of darkness, it was on the first soldier. The soldier screamed as the Bloodbringer opened its maw and bit down on the man’s head, an explosion of blood staining its snout. The Bloodbringer twisted the head off, and a second spray of blood erupted.
The second soldier took out his bow and drew an arrow. He let go, but the arrow bounced off the Bloodbringer’s scales harmlessly. The Bloodbringer turned its head at the soldier.
Mikol took this chance and ran straight at the open bronze doors. As the second soldier screamed in pain, Mikol felt a splash of blood reach his neck. He wiped it off while running, his teeth gritted in disgust. He kept on running. He heard the armor clattering and assumed more soldiers had come to fight.
Mikol ran out of the door as the sound of multiple bones cracking rang out.
TO BE CONTINUED