Summary: "The time when the sun and the night shall meet, the dragon will fall in defeat." A fairly accurate prophecy...except for a few key misspellings. Oneshot. AU.
Warnings: Fantasy AU. Elves. Knights. Dragons. Quests. That sort of thing. Canon off-screen death. Suicide mission. But it all turns out okay in the end.
Disclaimer: I neither own nor am affiliated with Common Law in any way.
I moved, so it's been a crazy few weeks. I didn't forgot about fic day; fic day just got a little misplaced in the moved. But here it is. Happy New Year's everyone!
Original prompt was on tumblr, about a prophecy that everybody believed but what only heard orally or something so there were misspellings. I don't remember who wrote the prompt, but it was fun. So I wrote a ficlet.
OOOO
The Son And The Knight
"Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten."
—Neil Gaiman
XXXX
Even with the cloak, there's no mistaking the graceful poise of an elf. The entire tavern goes quiet, and sure enough, when the figure pulls his hood back, long pointed ears are revealed.
"What can I do for ya?" the barkeep asks, running a cloth around the rim of a mug.
The elf leans forward. He doesn't speak loudly, but in the silence of the tavern, his voice carries.
"I'm looking for someone to take on a very dangerous, probably suicidal quest."
Travis knows who the barkeep is going to point at before the man actually points. He sighs and pours himself another drink as the elf turns to follow the pointing finger.
XXXX
Introductions are made. Wes ("My true name is sixteen syllables and difficult for human tongues, Wes is fine") doesn't order anything, merely folds his hands in front of him and sits in that preternatural stillness that makes elves so creepy. Like looking at a goddamn statue.
"So," Travis finally asks, once the majority of the curious stares have died down. "What's this stupidly foolish quest you're going on?"
Pale eyebrows furrow. "I said dangerous and suicidal, not stupidly foolish."
"Eh, same difference." Travis shrugs, bringing his mug up. "So, your quest?"
The elf blinks. "I'm going after the dragon."
Ale sprays halfway across the table as Travis chokes. "Are you insane? You want to go after the dragon? The one that's been around for a hundred years? The one that decimates populations because it feels like it? That dragon?"
Wes smiles thinly. "I did say it would be dangerous."
Travis shakes his head, leaning back. "No way. Can't be done. No one's ever come back."
"That's where the suicidal part comes in."
Travis stares at the elf, mind whirling. He drinks half his ale before he finally speaks. "It can't be done. You know that, right? The dragon can't be killed."
Wes's smile is sharp as a sword's edge. "The dragon can be killed."
"You mean that prophecy? Come on, no one believes that."
Wes just looks at him, utterly composed, the look of a man who knows more than he's saying. "I can pay you," he says, abruptly changing the subject. He reaches into his cloak, thunking a lump of silver onto the table. "It's yours if you join me."
Travis stares at the intricate, filigreed armband and something greedy and poor in his chest perks up. And, well, it's not like he had any other prospects in his immediate future.
His hand wraps around the armband. "Alright, I'm in. I could use a little suicidally dangerous to liven things up."
XXXX
"Time is of the essence," Travis grumbles, moving through dark, silent streets. "So meet me at the edge of town at the asscrack of dawn."
"I'm fairly certain those were not my exact words."
Travis nearly jumps out of his skin as the elf morphs out of the shadows, that dark cloak and that stupid elven stillness blending him right in.
The elf smirks, gaze roaming over him. "Are you ready?"
Travis hefts his pack and pats the sword at his side. "As ready as I'll ever be."
Wes nods regally. "Then let's be off."
XXXX
"So what's the deal?" Travis asks, hours after the sun has risen.
Wes glances back, one eyebrow raised. "The deal?"
"Yeah. Why are you so confident? What do you know?" At the elf's silence, Travis rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on. You don't seem like a guy ready to throw his life away just yet. So what do you know?"
Wes turns back ahead, and Travis thinks he's just ignoring him. Just as he's about to get angry, the elf speaks in a lilting, songlike cadence.
"The time when the sun and the night shall meet, the dragon shall fall in defeat."
"Cute, but I've heard better poetry in the tavern." Travis rolls his eyes at Wes's glare. "Oh, seriously, everyone knows that prophecy. It doesn't mean anything."
"Wrong." Wes walks a little faster, prompting Travis to hurry so he can still hear. "In six days, there will be a brief period of time when the moon will cover the sun. 'When the sun and the night shall meet.' See? But we must get there in time, or the dragon will continue to reign terror."
"Bullshit," Travis scoffs. "Even if I did believe that would happen—which, by the way, I don't—how come no one else knows about this?"
Wes doesn't look back, but Travis can hear the smirk in his voice. "Because no one else knows an elven seer." His head tilts back, looking up at the sky. "We'd best go faster. We need to reach Andervale by nightfall."
There's not much talking after that.
XXXX
They reach Andervale by nightfall, move right through it, and end up camping in the woods past town. After they've eaten, Travis stares at the fire, while Wes does whatever elvish thing he's about.
"So why are you doing this?" he asks after a while. "The dragon doesn't come as far as your forests. What's in it for you?"
Wes glances up, eyes glowing eerily in the fire's flow. "That's a long story," he murmurs, "and it's really none of your business."
Travis's stomach burns with frustrated annoyance. "Right." He rises brushing dirt off his trousers. "I'm going to get more firewood." He stomps into the woods, and he doesn't come back for an hour. Damn inscrutable elves.
XXXX
The only time they talk the next day is when Travis asks how far they have to get by nightfall, and Wes tersely replies, "Evergreen."
It's a long walk.
XXXX
Due to an unexpected rockslide on the road on day three, they have to take a detour that adds half a day to their journey, which clearly makes Wes antsy. He keeps looking up at the sky like he expects the sun to be covered any second now.
"Would you feel better if we had a guide?" Travis asks as they enter the sprawling town of Glenriver. "Someone who knows the area and can help us make up the lost time?" Because watching the elf fidget all day has just been annoying. Three more days of it will drive him crazy.
Wes pins him with a sharp look. "You know someone?"
Travis just grins and starts winding through the crooked streets. Let him be the inscrutable one for once.
It's been a few years, so it takes a few wrong turns to get to the right building. The little house is quiet, but there's a light on in the window. Travis grins and pounds on the black pawprint painted on the door.
Loud barking erupts behind the door, angry and fierce. Travis smiles again, and Wes shoots him a look, clearly not understanding his mirth. You'll see, Travis mouths, and bangs on the door again.
"I'm coming, hold your horses!" a woman shouts form inside. A moment later, the door swings open, revealing a dark-haired woman holding a black-and-tan dog back by the collar.
"What do you—" Upon seeing Travis, her eyes widen. She hardly seems to notice when the dog slips out of her grasp and presses up against Travis's legs.
Travis smiles, scratching Hudson behind the ears. "Hi, Randi."
XXXX
"I heard you were dead," Randi says bluntly, plopping a bowl in front of each of them.
Travis inhales the heady aroma of beef stew, "Not quite."
"Obviously." She grabs a bowl of her own and sits, looking between the two of them. "So what do you need?"
"We need your exemplary skills as a hunter, tracker, and guide," Travis chirps.
"Well, that's cryptic." Randi eyes him. "What sort of quest are you on?"
"We're going after the dragon," Wes says calmly, spooning up stew.
Much like Travis did, Randi chokes and spits stew across the table. "Are you crazy? Please tell me you're joking."
"Not a joke. Does he look like the joking type?" Travis waves at Wes, who continues to serenely eat.
"Why?" Randi stares at him. "There are easier ways to kill yourself."
"We have our reasons," Wes murmurs. "Pass the bread, please."
She nudges the bread numbly towards him, still staring at Travis. Travis does his very best to convey I'm fine, it's not what you think, trust me, without saying a word.
After a long, long minute, she sighs and says, "What do you want, Travis?"
"We need to get to the dragon's mountain in three days," Travis explains. "But there was a rockslide and now we've lost time. Horses are useless this close to the dragon, of course, so I figure you're the best shot we've got to get there in time."
Randi shakes her head, looking between Travis and Wes. "Y'all are gonna get yourself killed."
"My problem, not yours," Travis replies cheerfully. "What do you say? Can you do it?"
"I can pay you," Wes cuts in smoothly.
The hunter sighs, leaning back. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I can get you there. I won't go any farther than the base of the mountain, though."
"That's fine," Wes says. "Get us there, and we can do the rest."
Randi gives Travis a worried look that says, I hope you know what you're doing, but all she says is, "Okay, I guess."
XXXX
"I forgot how much I hated this part of quests," Travis grumbles, staggering downstairs and blinking blearily. "If the sun isn't up, I shouldn't be either."
"Hey, you want to make up for lost time, you gotta get up early," Randi says cheerfully, looking much too awake for this god-awful time of the morning.
"We can't afford any delays," Wes snaps, pushing past Travis towards the door.
Travis groans and follows. "You guys suck."
XXXX
Wes is up ahead, Hudson dancing at his heels, when Randi sidles up. "So," she asks Travis nudging his ribs. "What's this all about?"
"What do you mean?" he hefts his pack up. "We're gonna go take out the dragon."
"You're going to die."
"That's not what Wes thinks." Travis explains about the moon covering the sun, and the short period of time when the dragon can be defeated. When he's done talking, Randi's face is slack with disbelief.
"You're gonna get yourself killed."
Travis shrugs.
Randi looks up at Wes. "I wonder what he gets out of it," she murmurs.
"He gets the glory of killing the dragon," Travis says.
The hunter shakes her head. "No way. It's gotta be something more than that. Look at his hair." At Travis's confusion, she rolls her eyes. "Have you ever seen an elf with short hair?"
Well, no, Travis hasn't. But really, he doesn't care that much.
"Does it matter?" he asks. "Let's be real here. The only people willing to go after the dragon are crazy, have a deathwish, or want the glory."
"I see," Randi says in an all-too knowing tone. "And which one applies to you, Sir Marks?"
Travis's jaw tightens, and he stomps ahead of her. It's a good few hours before he talks to her again.
XXXX
Later, when they're sitting around the fire after dinner, Wes asks quietly, "Sir Marks?"
Damn that elvish hearing. Travis scowls, shooting a glower at Randi for even mentioning it. She merely shrugs, looking mildly apologetic.
Wes is still waiting, eyes glinting like a cat's. Travis smiles thinly at him. "It's a long story," he snaps, "and it's really none of your business."
Randi's eyes widen, but Wes—Wes simply nods his head in acknowledgement of a masterful volley fired.
"I'll go get more firewood," the elf murmurs, rising to his feet and disappearing into the shadows.
"Wow," Randi breathes, staring after Wes. "I've never seen an elf so friendly."
"Friendly?" Travis scoffs. "That's not friendly."
"It is for an elf," Randi corrects, which…might be true enough. She's had a lot more experience with elves than he has. She looks at him, studying him in the dancing firelight. "He must like you."
Travis glances at the shadowed woods. Or, he muses, he thinks we're going to die.
He doesn't say it. Maybe if he doesn't give voice to the words, then Wes's stupid plan will work and they'll both walk away from this.
Maybe.
XXXX
It gets hotter the closer they travel to the dragon's mountain. The air turns a burnt orange, and ash falls like snow; the air warms and warms. Trees grow dark and stunted, then crooked and withered, then finally fade altogether until there's only scraggly clusters of yellow grass.
"Fire dragon," Travis pants, wiping sweat off his brow. "Why'd it have to be a fire dragon? Why not a nice, cool water dragon? Or a plant dragon that spits out flowers? Why fire?"
"Does he always complain this much?" Wes asks Randi. The elf looks none the worse for wear, like he could walk miles in this heat without breaking a sweat, the bastard.
"You get used to it," Randi gasps, tugging at her collar. She looks about as worn out by the heat as Travis feels. And poor Hudson is about wrung out, tongue hanging almost to the ground.
Damn fire dragon.
When even the tiny tufts of grass have vanished and all that's left is bare red rocks, Randi stops. "This is where I call it, guys."
Travis looks up at the mountain rising above, and grimaces. "This is fine, Randi. Thanks."
"Thank you," Wes says gravely, turning to the hunter. He reaches out, another of those silver armbands in his hand. "Your payment."
Randi's eyes widen. "That? But—that's sacred. I can't take that!"
Wes's face shifts into something like shame. "It's all I have." He pushes it towards her. "Please take it."
Slowly, she reaches out. "I'll just hold it," she says, taking the band. "Just until you come back and can pay me for real."
The corner of Wes's mouth pulls up, ever so slightly. "And if I don't return, I won't need it, so you can keep it."
The hunter's face twists, but it's not like they don't all know that's the most likely outcome of this venture. For all the talk of prophecies and seers, they're most likely going to die.
Still. There's always that hope, slim as it may be.
Randi takes a breath, straightening. "Good luck." There's nothing else for her to day. She turns, clicking her tongue so Hudson follows. The dog looks back, almost like he too can sense the importance of this goodbye.
And then they're gone, and it's just Travis and Wes at the base of the dragon's mountain.
Travis stares up, where halfway up he can see smoke trailing out of a cave.
"So when's this thing supposed to happen?" he asks.
"Tomorrow, an hour after noon," Wes replies promptly. "We'll have about a five minute window to kill the dragon."
"Five minutes, huh? No pressure, then." Travis wipes his brow again, grimacing at the sweat on his hands. "Well, at least it should cool down tonight, eh?"
"Probably not," Wes replies, and starts unpacking.
XXXX
Wes is right. This close to the dragon, it hardly cools down at all once the sun sets. Which sucks.
Unable to sleep, Travis finally sits up. "Can I ask you something?"
Wes, who is apparently having just as much trouble sleeping, makes a small noise and sits up as well. "What?"
"Well, I was thinking, since this is potentially our last night on earth and all…"
"Just ask what you want to ask, Travis."
"What's with your hair, man?"
There's enough ambient light from the mountain for Travis to see Wes's hand come up and self-consciously brush his cropped locks. "What about my hair?"
Travis shifts, feeling like he's maybe crossed a line, but hey, last night on earth and all. "Just something Randi pointed out. I mean, I've never seen an elf without hair past their ass. Short hair is just…weird, I guess." He fidgets at Wes's silence. "You don't have to answer. I just figured, last night and all…"
He's expecting nothing. At best, Wes might give him another 'none of your business'.
So it's quite a surprise when Wes says, very quietly, "I was banished."
Travis is too shocked to say anything.
Wes sighs, tangling his fingers in his hair. "My father was the chief of our clan, and there were some…many laws he made that I…" He frowns, shrugs like it's no big deal (except Travis can tell that it is). "I disagreed one too many times, so he had me shorn and exiled. This—" he tugs a blonde lock at his forehead. "This is so everyone I come across knows my shame."
"Not everyone," Travis points out.
Wes gives him a look. "Everyone elven," he clarifies, which makes more sense.
"Is that why you're doing this?" Travis asks, gesturing to the mountain. "To get back at your dad? Prove him wrong?"
The elf lets out a slow breath, wrapping his arms around his knees. "Something like that, I suppose." He doesn't elaborate, and Travis doesn't push.
Silence falls once more, broken only by the soft whisper of acrid wind moving over ricks. Travis lays back down, tries to get comfortable, but it's impossible. Way too hot.
"I was a knight, once," he confesses to the sky, knowing Wes is absorbing every word. It's the end, there's no reason to hold secrets any more. "I was a good knight, too. Not just in skills—I was a good guy. Some of the others…they weren't so good."
He sighs, tucking his hands behind his head. "One of the bad knights, he killed my best friend. Said it was an accident, but I knew it wasn't. And if I'd taken the time, I could have proved it, or at least found something to get his status taken away."
"But you didn't," Wes guesses.
"No, I did not," Travis chuckles sourly. "I went after him, no preparations, no plan. Just anger and revenge. And it backfired. Crowl, he had a lot of powerful friend, and they made sure to take care of things. They besmirched me, ruined my reputation, tarnished my honor. In the end, I was still a knight, but not one anyone wants anything to do with. So I ran. Crawled into the corner of a tavern and never really left." He laughs, and it's not a happy sound. "Truth be told, if you hadn't come along, I'd still be on my way to drinking myself to death."
"Is that why you came with me?" Wes asks softly. "A more noble death than drowning in a bottle?"
Travis smirks. "Something like that." He exhales. "I was a good knight, once. Figure if I'm gonna go out, I might as well go out trying to do something for the world."
There's a beat of silence "We're not going to die, Travis," Wes eventually says.
"Yeah." Travis closes his eyes with a tired chuckle. "You keep saying that. I think you even believe it, too."
Wes doesn't say anything after that, and Travis doesn't try to start any more conversation.
XXXX
They both get ready early, before the sun rises. Travis puts on his armor—not plate, he'd roast like a pig if the dragon so much as sneezed in his direction. No, this stuff is dwarvish leather, supposedly fire-resistant. It may not stop the dragon from chomping him in half, but it should help if the dragon spurts flames, so long as it's not a direct hit.
He's feeling pretty well outfitted, until he sees the cloak Wes pulls out. It rustles when it moves, thousands of tiny, overlapping scales sown into the cloth, and it shimmers a ruddy red.
Wes catches him looking. "Salamander scales," he explains, sweeping it over his shoulders. "Completely fireproof."
Travis swallows, feeling extremely underprepared now. "Even against dragons?"
Wes fastens the cloak, mouth a thin line. "We'll have to see."
Travis has got his sword and, carefully wrapped in cloth and carried this entire way, his shield. Wes has a bow, like twelve arrows, and half a dozen throwing knives.
"Didn't exactly come prepared, did you?" Travis quips, strapping his scabbard on.
"I'm the distraction," Wes retorts. "You've got the sword. You get to kill it. I just run around distracting it so you can get close enough."
Travis pulls a face. "Oh yeah, this is going to go well."
"Remember," Wes says, checking his bowstring. "You have to wait for the sun to go dark. We only have five minutes to deliver the killing blow."
"With a time frame like that, how could we possibly lose?" Travis snaps, eyeing the mountain with trepidation.
Wes stands beside him, looking about as confident as Travis feels. "We'd better get going."
They start to climb.
XXXX
Travis has only seen the dragon twice in his life: once when he was a child, it flew over his home town, so high in the sky it could have been a bird but for the heat that swept in its wake; and once as an adult, flying away from a molten slag of rock that had just recently been a town of three hundred people. Both times he merely got a glimpse, an impression of heat and a massive beast covered in red scales.
Up close, that impression is just amplified. The heat radiating off the creature is almost enough to choke Travis, and the ruddy red scales seem to glow in the sun. Even asleep, Travis can see the massive teeth jutting out of its mouth, and those claws look sharp enough to cut through stone.
It's funny. Ever since Crowl ruined him, Travis has spent more time drunk than sober, waiting for death to wander his way. Now that he's facing it so clearly, he finds that he really doesn't want to die.
But it's too late to back down now.
"You're sure about this?" he hisses at the elf, squinting upward.
Wes frowns at the sky, at the sun that is definitely not going dark. "It'll happen," he declares, hands tightening on his bow. "We just have to wait a few more minutes.
Grumbling to himself, Travis shifts, pulling his shield to his side. Unfortunately, the movement is enough to dislodge a rock which rolls and hits another, which sets off a small cascade of pebbles.
Travis and Wes both freeze, not even daring to breathe, straining to hear if the noise woke the dragon.
On the ledge below, the great beast grunts, rolling over. Huge wings rustle, sending a blast of acrid heat upward. But then it settles, going quiet, and Travis slowly exhales. It didn't wake up, thank god.
Then the dragon opens one vicious golden eye.
XXXX
The plan, Travis realizes about a minute into the fight, sucks. Wes is over by the dragon's head, leaping from boulder to boulder like a squirrel. It's not easy, by any means; the way he twists to dodge a stream of flame would probably result in a broken spine if Travis ever tried it. Comparatively speaking, though Wes definitely has the easier job.
Because Travis has to get close enough to stab the dragon in a weak point. Only Travis can't find any weak points, and he can't get close enough to look for one. The dragon's wings are flailing about, knocking over stones and definitely more than enough to send Travis flying if he gets too close. The dragon's tail, with added spikes at the end, is whipping about, making the entire back half of the dragon completely inaccessible. And the front half has all these teeth and shooting flames, so no thank you.
Wes is doing a pretty good job of keeping the dragon's attention away from Travis. Too bad Travis can't manage his part of the plan.
The elf lands on a rock and takes a moment to glare at him. "Will you do something already?"
"I'm trying!" Travis hollers back, bringing his shield up. The dragon's trail slams into it, sending vibrations through the metal that makes his arm go numb.
Wes ducks another stream of flame, nearly getting disemboweled when four claws slice for him. "Go for the vulnerable spots!" he screams, letting off an arrow that bounces harmlessly off the dragon's brow.
"There are no vulnerable spots!" Travis ducks just in time to keep an errant wing from decapitating him.
He keeps glancing at the sky. The sun is a ball of fire, burning bright, and the only thing blocking it is the ash and smoke from the dragon is sending up. Certainly no moon covering it. Travis is fairly certain the moon isn't even in the sky right now.
If the moon doesn't cover the sun, they're shit out of luck.
"Wes! When's it gonna happen?!"
The elf looks up, nearly getting sliced open in his distraction. "It should be any minute!" but he sounds like maybe his information was wrong and now it's just sinking in.
Well, Travis hadn't bought that story about the moon in the first place, but it's a little late to regret coming along now.
"It's not happening!" Travis screams. "What's the plan now?"
Looking lost, Wes opens his mouth.
The dragon roars.
It's not sound, it's feeling, an actual force that erupts. It makes rocks rumble and sends Wes flying, and it knocks Travis to his knees. He claps his hands over his ears, but it doesn't help, not when the sound is moving through him.
His ears ring when the roar ceases. Travis thinks maybe he's gone deaf. Then he thinks if he can get out of this with only hearing loss then it's a good day indeed.
The dragon rises on its back legs, spreading its wings wide, and all Travis thinks is, It can't fly, we can't let it get into the air. It's enraged right now—any damage it causes will be directly Travis and Wes's fault. He doesn't care if the dragon kills him, Travis can't have that on his conscience.
He leaps forward, slashing out with his sword. The point stabs through the thin membrane of a wing. Thin being a relative term, since it's thicker than sailcloth. But Travis grits his teeth, slicing downward, cutting a ragged tear in the wing that oozes dark ichor.
The dragon screams, wing lashing out. It catches Travis in his gut, sends him flying into the side of the mountain, all the air escaping him.
Well, shit, he thinks as the dragon looms above him. I'm gonna be barbeque. But he crippled the beast, at least for a little while. Not a bad way to go.
Flames gather at the corner of the dragon's mouth. Travis braces himself.
A red flash moves in the corner of his vision. Then something heavy drops over him, covering him completely. And then there's heat, unbearable heat, and fire licking the edges of the cloak, and Travis holds his breath and doesn't dare move.
It seems forever before the roar and pressure fades. Travis gasps, yanking the salamander cloak from his face and breathing air full of ash. He finds the dragon staring down at him, looking almost puzzled. Well, there probably aren't too many things that can take the full brunt of a dragon's blast and still be moving afterwards.
The dragon opens its mouth again, flames gathering at the corners—
An arrow zips through the air, embedding itself in one giant golden eye. The dragon reels back shrieking, clawing at its face, which only pushes the arrow deeper.
Travis lunges for his fallen sword. By the time he comes up, hilt in hand, the dragon has fixed its attention on Wes. Wes reaches for his quiver, but his hand falls on empty air.
He's out of arrows, and he's completely defenseless because he tossed his salamander cloak over Travis.
Travis doesn't even think. When the dragon rears back, he lunges forward with a yell, sword upraised. As the dragon's head comes down, Travis's sword goes up, and they meet in the middle.
The sword slices through the beast's chin, up through the roof of its mouth and into its skull. Travis almost wouldn't believe it, if not for the hot rush of ichor that spills over his hands.
The dragon blinks. Thick black blood gurgles out of its mouth, oozing over Travis's hands and arms. Disgusted, he yanks the sword out in a gush of dark liquid.
The dragon blinks, and slowly falls down dead.
For a long moment, Travis and Wes simply stand there, staring at each other over the corpse of the huge beast. Travis is the first to speak.
"Is…is that it?"
Wes, looking dazed, nods. "I think so." Gingerly, he reaches out, nudging the beast with his foot. The dragon doesn't move.
Travis wipes his hands on his pants (which doesn't do much), staring at the giant corpse. "But…what about the moon? And the prophecy? What the hell?"
Wes tilts his head back, staring at the burning orb that was never covered, except by smoke and ash. Certainly not by the moon. He frowns. "I really have no idea."
Travis squints at the sun. "You know, I never believed your theory anyway. I mean, who ever heard of the sun being covered by the moon? That's just ridiculous."
Wes gives him a small, wry smile. "I suppose you're right. It does seem pretty absurd." He looks at the dragon, nudging it once more. "And it really doesn't matter now, does it?"
XXXX
It seems impossible, that after four hundred years of terror, they could just waltz in and kill the dragon just like that. Seems impossible that this is it. And yet, the longer he stands here, the more it sinks in.
"We did it," Travis says, a slow grin crossing his face. "We actually did it."
The smile on Wes's face is small, but it shows a flash of teeth, so it's probably the elven equivalent of an ecstatic grin. "We actually did it."
"We did it!" Travis shouts into the sky, and he laughs, and he laughs. After a moment, Wes starts laughing too, until they're both doubled over, laughing off the adrenaline, the fear, the sheer absurdity that they're still alive right now.
When they finally settle, they both look at the corpse at their feet. "You know," Wes says slowly, "no one is ever going to believe it."
"They will if we bring back the head," Travis says, lifting his sword suggestively, and Wes snorts.
"Randi's going to be quite surprised to see us again," Wes observes, picking up his salamander cloak and shaking it off.
"Can you imagine the look on her face?" Travis chuckles, wiping ichor off his sword. "It's gonna be spectacular."
Wes smirks. "Not nearly as spectacular as when we come down with the dragon's head. It's going to be a heck of a story. One they'll tell for centuries."
"Damn straight!" Travis declares, slinging his arm over Wes's shoulder. "Not bad for a disgraced knight and a banished elf, eh?"
Wes gives him a friendly bump. "No, not bad at all."
For the moment, they don't move, the son and the knight standing in solidarity, basking in the success of their quest.
XXXX
There was, in fact, an eclipse right when the dragon was slayed. In another part of the world, very far away from our brave adventurers.
And deep in an elven forest, an elvish seer who looks a lot like Alex smiles.