Chapter 4: With Peace comes a New…Witch? (4)
"It's only been twenty years, old friend." The dragon's voice was deep and resonant, the sound of ancient whispers through a vast cavern. She circled lazily, her wings casting shadows that danced upon the ground. "You look well, considering for how long you have hidden from us."
"Well, twenty years are enough to collect dust upon my...perverted collection." Demond chuckled, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. Despite the gravity of the situation, he couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement at the sight of the majestic creature.
"And twenty year...is enough for your daughter to be one of heroes among the legends." Adrei's voice grew serious, the air around her shimmered with the intensity of her words. "I've come to ask for your death, your submission, old friend. For the sake of our kinds' wrath, for the selfish justice you brought upon our tyrant without consoling, you must die, my saviour."
The words hit him like a ton of bricks. Twenty years ago, he had slain the dragon tyrant, Adalon. A creature whose wrath had brought fear and destruction to the lands, and the one his comrade abandoned his daughter for, before the old mage saved her as Alice and perished the dragon, and coincidentally, led Adrei's rise to fame as the only successor to Adalon, along with her peace's offerings from finally escaping her father's violent abuses.
"It needs not be like this, Dragon Queen of Tamara." The old mage nodded, his gaze heavy with his beg for mercy. "Let bygones be bygones. This...this father is afraid of his own death, not for himself, but for the child he promised a banquet with."
"Yet our kind's pride won't cease to be, Demond. You know full well the consequences of your actions," Adrei replied, her words carrying the weight of generations of dragon tradition and honor. "You've had your peace, but when it's time for your end, let us face it with grace, not fear."
"...cowardice, cowardice haha..." Demond chuckled, leaning heavily on his staff. "Truthfully, I've had enough. Facing a dragon at this age? Even this old man knew there would no longer be any last spark of sudden empowerment I would have like a protagonist. Still..." His eyes grew misty, the tremble in his voice belying his fear. "I can't leave Alice without saying goodbye, without leaving her legacy a deserved praise I promised, without enjoying the peace me and my companions prayed for with these 70 years of bloodsheds and tears."
Then, unbefitting of an old mage's, the mage took from his robe's pocket a small pouch, inside was memories of his long-forgotten work days, days of sweat and tears with his co-workers as he moved tiles, bricks and mortars, while riding machines this age of Magic would have a hard time to believe existed.
And so as he hugged his staff, the old mage took from his pouch for one last time: a cigarette, fiddling it between his fingers. The dragon's fiery gaze flickered with curiosity as she watched him, her scales fluttering gently in the breeze. The act was not alien to her: she recognized that familiar gesture of contemplation, as the old mage tugged the cigarette into his bearded lips, lightened by the blaze magic at his thumb.