Chapter Five

The Doctor had been doing everything he could think of to make Anethia as comfortable as possible as she lay in the dim light of the abandoned barn. Dust particles could be seen where light filtered through holes in the roof. At least the dirt floor was cool if not a bit musty. Her scales had an unhealthy sheen to them, and lacked their usual luster. Pus oozed from underneath purpled bandages on her hind legs and tail. The slash on her stomach was too long them to use bandages so they had made due with some medicinal leaves.

After the ambush his group experienced, the Dragon was in bad shape. He knew that if they couldn't find a trained master in Dragon medicine she would die. He listened to her labored breathing and cringed with each ragged rise and fall of her chest and wished there was something he could do. The Doctor had never worked with a Dragon before, Sure there were Silurians, but they were very different. He also didn't think that Dinosaurs had the same anatomy.

You don't need to worry about me, Doctor. Anethia said. I'm sure the Rangers have found her, I am in good hands.

"I'm so sorry," The Doctors' angry eyebrows furrowed in shame. "I should have been more vigilant."

You couldn't help that Horace and Luke were undergoing a training session that turned into a brawl. Anethia smiled, then winced. Her nostrils flared and blood seeped down her nose.

Will and Halt had gone hunting for food and came back just as the Westlanders attacked. Horace was protecting Luke who froze in fear. His face was stern but calm. He'd faced enemies like this on many occasions, and few of them held a candle to the Temujai he fought in Skandia. Soldiers fell to his right and he knew the Rangers had returned. Halt had barely blinked as he downed three Westlanders to Horace's left. Will's skill was as sharp as ever and soon only one soldier remained. His skill was far greater than those who came before him. In the heat of battle he somehow managed to get behind the little band of fighters and begin his assault on their back sides. Anethia leapt to action as if snapping out of a trance, saving them, but with great consequence. The Westlander in red armor's sword sliced through her scales like ribbons and just like that it was over. He was gone.

It was later that the little group had learned the significance of the sword held by their attacker. Several weeks had passed and Anthias' wounds stubbornly refused to heal, and she grew weaker with each passing day. Luke was beside himself with worry when it was decided to find the Dragon Mage. He'd heard stories in his travels about a woman who had magical abilities that could communicate with dragons in their native tongue. Maybe she could help with healing her. It was by luck that they found an abandoned barn big enough to hid her while they looked for the Dragon Mage.

"How is she?" Luke asked as he came through the squeaky doors. They creecked His venture into town had proven fruitful: his basket filled to overflowing with food. As he moved closer, he set the basket down and rubbed Anethia's pale scales. It was then that he noticed how cold she was. Tears filled Luke's eyes and he turned away from her, head down.

"She isn't getting better. She sleeps more often than not now." The Doctor's voice was slightly above a whisper as he placed a hand on the boys shoulder. "And most of the time it is fitfully. I don't think there is anything that can be done now." He ran his other hand across Anethia's folded wing. The membrane was so delicate he feared it would tear, but he knew how strong they were.

This dragon was old. The Doctor knew she had seen many lifetimes, and now she would no longer suffer in the same manner he did. All he could do was hope that the rangers came left back soon with help.

The barn doors squeaked. Both Luke and the Doctor looked up, startled. The rangers and Horace stepped through the precipice, cowles hiding their expressions. Two newcomers followed behind. Luke stood quickly. Neither looked to be older than their early twenties. He had to blink a few times as his eyes adjusted to the brighter light of the outdoors.

"Is this her?" Luke asked walking hesitantly to Lilly's side.

"My name is Lilly, and I'm only an apprentice. Deidre is the master." Lilly gestured to Deidre with a look of affection. She'd grown quite fond of her mentor and looked to her as a sister.

Deidre raised an eyebrow and Will noticed the resemblance of Halt in the expression. He let out a snort and turned his head, covering his mouth with a fist. The rest of the group looked at him in confusion. Horace noticed Will's shoulders shaking as he hid the laughter trying to escape. Halt pulled back his hood.

"And what, might I ask, is so funny?" The Doctor looked to each member of their party with angry brows furrowed in confusion. He remained close to the injured dragon and folded his arms across his chest.

"I was just noticing how Deidre and Halt share many striking similarities in their expressions." Will managed between chortles and giggles. Halt and Deirdre looked at each other, eyebrows raised in unison, which sent Will into a laughing fit that left him on the floor.

Anethia let out a strangled sigh, one that sent chills down Deidre's spine. In an instant she had moved from the barn door to the dragon's side. The movement sent dust into the air. Lilly moved with less speed, but as much grace as her mentor had. She could see the tears forming in her mentor's eyes, and looked the dragon over. What she saw rattled her to the bone. Bandages that oozed purple and green shone dimly in the limited light. Blood seeped out of the slash in Anethia's stomach and side. She watched as the dragon struggled to breath, a slight gurgle with each inhale.

Deidre knelt and put her forehead on Anethia's snout while tears freely fell. Halt and the others watched in somber silence, Will sitting on the floor. Luke had hoped beyond hope that they would get the Dragon Master, heal Anethia and be on their merry way, but judging from the reaction of Deidre that wasn't going to happen. He felt Anethia in his mind, trying to comfort him as his tears threatened to fall.

Don't you worry about me, Little One. She smiled, then winced. Go and rescue your sister. Luke could not hold his tears any longer as he felt Anethia's Consciousness fade and disappear.

"There was nothing any of us could have done to save her." Lilly's hushed tones was an attempt to console her mentor, who had a deeper connection to Dragons than even she understood.

Horace wasn't really good a the feely stuff, so he awkwardly put his hand on Luke's shoulder as he hung his head and sobbed. Halt put his hand on Luke's other shoulder, also not really apt at the touchy feely stuff.

"I don't know what happened," Luke hiccuped. "I thought Dragon Skin was harder than Diamonds." Snot Dripped down his nose, and he made no attempts to remove it.

"Bane Sword." Lilly said watching her mentor shed silent tears. "Claíomh bána. It is a sword formed in fires using Dragon's Bane as fuel and fused into the metal. It is the only thing that can cut dragon skin. To my knowledge there are only two left. One belongs to the Blood Knight."

"And the other?" Will asked.

"The Dragon Sanctuary where the Royal Dragons reside. Safe." Deidre stood, a dangerous look passed over her face briefly. The Doctor noticed, but chose not to say anything just yet. He had been observing the exchanges and noted that Deidre too was older than she looked. Her eyes were old and sad, like his. Yet, there was something there: joy perhaps?

"We had a run in with some Westlanders who had a warrior in red armor. It seemed like a scouting party, we left non alive." Halt shook his head. "But when we gathered the bodies, there was no trace of the man in red armor."

"Lilly, prepare the supplies for Sochraide tine. Funeral Of Fire." Lilly nodded at Deidre's request and left the barn.

Sorry it's been a while since i last uploaded, things have been a bit hectic lately, my only hope is that i get a rest from the craziness that keeps happening to me.