The Woodsman: Chapter Twelve

 Darkness crept around his vision.

He felt his life draining away.

This was the end.

The dragon heaved, and the spell cast upon the two felt powerful enough to slay the beast, let alone a simple man. The face of his dark elven executioner, Darigoth, twisted in a mask of hate and rage. The skin on the wicked man’s face seemed to stretch over his skull in a smile only death itself could admire.

Tyler felt the night come down upon him.

But the sun refused to set.

Something felt wrong; the light remained around the spot where the sword entered the dragon’s body. Was the dragon’s magic somehow protecting him? He tightened his grip on the blade, and the darkness pushed back.

The dragon Vaishali heaved and tried to pull away from where he had tied the rope to the sword’s hilt. The rope snapped and jerked into the air, nearly taking him with it. The sword was pulled from the dragon’s body, spraying him with hot blood.

His entire body felt numb, but the space and air around the sword remained bright.

The sword.

The sword was a paladin’s sword.

Tyler gripped the sword tighter and felt his body return to life. He knew nothing about paladins; only their powers came from how selfless they were, how they were willing to sacrifice and protect others. He could not draw power from the sword if he were selfish or his intentions impure.

He did not even know if he could draw power from the sword.

But the paladin magic protected him from death.

Darigoth strode into the clearing on top of the hill, his hand twisted in the grip of death as he continued to channel the spell into the dragon and man. “What is the matter? Afraid to embrace death?!”

Tyler closed his eyes and focused on the sword.

Sword?

Hear me, sword.

Save the dragon. Take my life instead.

I sacrifice myself, so my love and her people can live, and the dragon may fall the wicked man who takes from life.

The sword glowed in his hand along the length of the entire blade. The magic seemed to make the blade very sharp, and it slid out of the dragon’s body easily as blood sprayed around him. Vaishali rolled away and off the top of the hill, disappearing in a thud.

Tyler fell to his knees, hand still upon the glowing sword.

Darigoth let up his dark magic and walked toward him with a grin. “Got a toy there, human? Got a magic toy? Think you are the better of an immortal being who lives for thousands of years, filthy human trash?”

The dark elf kicked dirt across Tyler and laughed. “Stupid man. Stupid dragon. And the stupid bitch you love.”

Tyler opened his eyes, looking at the twisted visage of the dark elf. His body felt weak, though the sword in his hand felt like a limitless reserve of power he did not know how to tap or use.

“I warn you.” Tyler heaved for breath. “Don’t talk about my wife that way.”

“Wife?” Darigoth laughed. “So, she was a whore! That bitch was a dirty, filthy elven whore!”

Tyler gritted his teeth and realized the hate he felt drew him closer to death.

“I forgive you,” Tyler said with a voice as calm as he could muster, “but you are still going to die.”

“What is this?” Darigoth smirked, walking past him to get an eye on the dragon, who he could see laid on the edge of the hilltop, heaving for breath. The dark elf kept his eyes on the weakened Tyler as he laughed. “Death does not take pity, nor does it forgive. Death is a thief. Death takes what it wants. Death is a god.”

Tyler tried to calm himself, but the death magic had drained nearly every ounce of strength from his body beyond what the sword sustained. “And death shall take you.”

Darigoth stopped and smiled. “Of course, death takes everyone. But I have a secret, my friend. I have learned how to cheat death. I exchange lives for extensions of my own. The price increases every time, but death is a greedy broker. And death can be paid.”

Tyler bit his lip and watched the death mage stop near the cliff’s edge and stare down upon the weakened dragon.

“This beast shall do nicely,” Darigoth said. “I think at least another millennium of life for myself for this sacrifice. I should thank you, dirty human, but I assure you, your life would not even extend my time a single heartbeat.”

“A heartbeat is all I need,” Tyler said.

“If,” Darigoth said, “you had the strength to move. Or knew how that toy of ours in your hand worked. Which you do not, and you don’t have the faith, nor the devotion, to call yourself worthy of a weapon such as that.”

“Afraid of it?” Tyler said, his hand tightening upon the hilt. “Why can’t you take it from me?”

“It is holy,” Darigoth smirked. “A danger to myself, like poison to us followers of death. I prefer not to get close and worry not; the dragon is still much more of a threat to me at the moment than a pitiful excuse for someone who pretends to love a dark elf, such as yourself.”

Darigoth turned and began to cast magic of death toward the dragon. The dragon moaned and howled in pain. “Die, noble beast, die. Die my dragon, die. Let death take you from this world, your memory, nevermore.”

Darigoth laughed as his spell tortured Vaishali. “You know that whore you never loved loved you?”

Tyler closed his eyes.

“She has done this before,” the death mage laughed. “Lied. She tried to escape and lead her people to freedom before. Every time we captured her and dragged her sorry ass back home.”

Tyler controlled his breathing.

“And she has met people along the way,” Darigoth smiled, “humans like yourself. She told them she loved them that she promised to love in exchange for help. Lied to them like a whore. Professed her eternal love and devotion. Again, time after time, the bitch lies.”

Tyler stared at the green ring he fashioned from a reed and shared with Ophelia upon his finger.

He stood.

He swiped the razor-sharp blade at the rope tying the weapon to the tree, and it cut clean.

He felt his body at one with the sword, as if the weapon and he was one.

For all the death mage said, Tyler knew the truth.

Love is truth.

Hate is death.

Feeding into hate is feeding into death.

Feeding into love is feeding into life.

He gave up any hope of keeping his old body alive.

I am the sword.

I give myself to it.

Tyler cleared his throat.

Darigoth turned, eyes a bit wide with shock.

“Have you managed to heal yourself with the blade?” The death mage laughed. “Amazing! You put an entire class of the faithful to shame, filthy man. You are a quick learner, but there is no way you could ever hope to cross the distance between us before I cast a death bolt at you, and I assure you, the sword shall not protect you from that.”

He kept his face calm and nodded. “Death mage, you were correct.”

Tyler raised the blade above his head.

“Heal the dragon.”

Darigoth’s eyes went wild as the glow behind him rose, and before he could turn around Vaishali’s claw grabbed his legs in a bone-crushing grip, and her maw sped through the air and grabbed his torso, tearing the death mage entirely in two. The dragon spat out the still-living upper half of the death mage as she rose to her feet and towered over them.

Tyler walked over to the now-dying dark elf.

“You were correct,” Tyler said as he thrust the blade into the death mage’s heart, “I only needed a heartbeat.”

The body of the death mage turned to ash and blew away in the wind.

Tyler smiled at Vaishali.

The dragon blinked. “Paladin.”

“I have not been bestowed the title, miss dragon.”

“It isn’t given.” Vaishali returned the smile. “It is earned.”

“Well,” Tyler examined the glowing sword and removed the last few loops of rope from the blade. “Let me apologize for this being stuck in you for the longest time.”

Vaishali shook her head. “I probably earned the pain for what I did, paladin.”

“Confessing your sins to a simple woodsman?”

Vaishali widened her grin. “For removing the infection which caused my heart pain, paladin, and for letting me see my children grow and for them to have a mother. I owe penance.”

“The infection you had in your heart was hate.” Tyler walked to her and patted her scales. “All I ask is to be a good dragon from this day forward. I shall ensure your hoard is filled, and you can live a lazy life with your children wherever you choose. Be a mother. Be a good mother.”

Vaishali turned away, and he could see the tear fall from her eye.

The noble beast, the mother of children, turned and lowered her head to him.

“Come, paladin,” she said, “climb aboard. Let us find your love. If I can repay your heart by bringing a new mother into the world, I consider my debt paid.”

He carefully stepped on her nose and balanced along her long, graceful neck until he found a spot to sit upon her back, just ahead of her wings. He rested the blade upon his lap.

“I never flew before Vaishali,” Tyler laughed. “I am a simple woodsman, not a bird, nor dragon-rider.”

Vaishali turned her head so she could look back at him. “There is a first time for everything, paladin.”

And into the blue sky, they sailed.