Marc grabbed a hold of the grip and pulled Excalibur back out of the stone. When he pulled it out, the stone walls that had been slowly building themselves into a hilltop fortress came to a stop.
“Trystan.” Marc came around behind him as he prepared to shoot another arrow. “Use this as your arrow.”
Marc handed him Excalibur. Trystan quickly understood.
“Stay close,” Trystan said.
Before Trystan could take aim, a plague dragon swooped down from the sky and grabbed a hold of Trystan with its powerful claws. Trystan dropped the sword and yelled as the sharp claws dug into his shoulders and back. He clung tightly to his bow with all his strength, clenching his teeth through the searing pain, as the dragon carried him off.
Marc stared after Trystan, unsure of what to do.
A guardian landed his dragon with a jarring thud in front of Marc. “Quickly Prince,” he commanded, “if you want to save him.”
Marc didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Excalibur and climbed atop the dragon’s back. The guardian guided the silver dragon in quick pursuit of the one that carried Trystan.
They raced along in the smoky air, weaving around other dragons fighting each other and dodging incinerating fireballs, all the while, slowly catching up to the plague dragon as others pursued them.
“Can you get me close enough to it?” Marc asked the guardian, pulling his dagger as he positioned himself to jump.
“We will do our best,” he replied, urging his dragon faster and faster, until they flew just above the demonic beast. “Good luck, Prince.”
Marc jumped, aiming for the back of the black dragon that still held Trystan beneath it. At the last moment, the dragon turned, and Marc landed on the back side near the tail. As he started to slide, he stabbed the beast with his dagger, preventing his fall.
The dragon screeched, annoyed by the stinging pain, and made a rolled turn. Marc struggled to hang on. The dragon leveled out. Marc saw it as his opportunity. He didn’t have time to hesitate. He pulled himself up to the dragon’s spiked spine, a putrid, tar-like substance oozing from its scaly, armored skin hindering his efforts. Despite the gross stickiness, Marc clambered his way to the base of its neck. Hoping to have found a sensitive part of the beast, he plunged the dagger into the side of the dragon’s neck.
The dragon screeched and jerked its head back, releasing Trystan from its grip. Determined not to lose its prey, the dragon turned into another roll and sped toward Trystan as he fell toward the ground. From where he clung, Marc could see them charging toward Trystan. The plague dragon bore down on him, its mouth open, ready to snatch him midair and sink its teeth into him.
A guardian swooped in and caught Trystan. Barreling under the claws of the plague dragon, it sped away.
Marc breathed a momentary sigh. The plague dragon turned in swift pursuit of Trystan. The dragon had marked its prey. It was not going to give up. Marc needed to stop it, and yet, he also needed to get Excalibur to Trystan.
His breath knocked out of him from the sudden impact with the dragon’s back, Trystan hung onto the silvery beast as tightly as possible. Garnering his strength, he took in a few deep breaths and carefully moved up the dragon’s back to sit behind the rider. “I need the sword.”
“I know.” The guardian, with Trystan seated behind him, guided his dragon back toward Marc.
Marc saw the dragon carrying Trystan turn and fly toward him. Without removing the dagger from the dragon’s putrid flesh, he pulled Excalibur from his back and plunged it into the same soft skin of the beast’s neck beside the dagger. The power of Excalibur flowed into the creature as it roared in terrible agony. Losing control, the dragon wildly thrashed as it struggled to fly.
Trystan looked over to see Marc astride the neck of the plague dragon, with Excalibur lodged in its throat. He stood, balancing on the dragon’s back.
Marc pulled the sword from the dragon’s neck. As Trystan flew by, Marc pitched the sword to him as the plague dragon succumbed to the magic of Excalibur and began plummeting to the earth.
Trystan locked eyes with Marc as the sword hurled towards him. His heart heaved, pounding hard within the tightness of his chest. He turned his gaze away from Marc and caught Excalibur. As the guardian turned the dragon and sped toward the hilltop, Trystan took aim at the demon lord.
Holding the sword, he pulled the pommel of the hilt back with the string of the bow, resting the blade against the rounded opening in the bow. The sword was lighter than he anticipated, perchance due to the magic within Excalibur. He focused on his target. The sword glowed brighter until it looked as though it was made from pure light. The markings in the opening of the bow started to glow as well, opening and expanding to encompass the sword as tentacles of light suspended the blade of Excalibur within it.
As he assailed those around him, Iôr Thraul approached Emrys, who had recovered enough strength to stand and fight once again. Emrys attempted to use his magic to push him back, but the demon lord was too strong. He advanced toward Emrys and as he was about to strike at him with his axe, Trystan saw a clear path and released Excalibur from his bow from atop the silver dragon.
Excalibur and all its power soared toward the demon lord, piercing the air with intense speed. Seconds felt like an eternity before the sword struck him in the center of his chest. It penetrated deep. The force stopped Thraul in mid swing as he turned in the direction of sword’s origin.
The light from the sword spread down the blade and filtered into the demon’s chest. Then it faded as if nothing happened. Thraul reached up and pulled the sword, no longer glowing, from his chest and let out another angry roar.
The guardian landed his dragon on the ground near Emrys. Trystan dismounted and faced the demon lord.
“I’ve had enough of you!” Thraul yelled, taking a step toward Trystan.
Trystan watched, dread flooding him. If that did not destroy him, then what would? There was no way they could continue to fight like this. Everyone was exhausted. He had no idea where Marc was, or if he had even survived, and he was at a loss of what to do next. Instinctively, Trystan raised his bow. Almost immediately, he lowered it.
As the demon lord took another step, a small green light pierced his charred flesh, emanating from the center of his chest. He fell to one knee. Slightly confused, he yelled again.
