Chapter Thirty-six
Two Weeks Later; Burmecia; Arena of the Dragon
For the first time in about a month, Freya's life began to slow down. She found that she was able to sleep more deeply, and feel more refreshed. The Burmecians around the city were always praising her. Freya would often pass by and hear them whisper of how she defeated Julius on her own. No matter how many times Freya tried to convince them that she had help, the Burmecians wanted to believe it was only her.
A few Burmecians spoke of Dominic, and how he had been able to command Julius to do anything. They seemed confused on how he didn't just command Julius to die. Many concluded that he couldn't, but Fratley, curious, chose to ask. Dominic had fidgeted, blushed, and left the room, seeming highly disturbed by the question. No one asked again.
The entire city retold tales of how Freya survived Julius countless times, and of how even her father Eroy had not survived. They seemed awed by it, and no matter what Freya did to try and convince them that she had had help, the Burmecians wanted to believe in her. Flattered, Freya allowed them to.
Yet no matter how excited the Burmecians were at Julius' fall, it couldn't meet their excitement at the battle soon to come. Freya couldn't remember an earlier time when she had gotten more praise, encouragement, and "good lucks" than then. Everyone had something to say to her about the tournament to get her Dragon Warrior status. Everyone believed she could do it.
Then again, the good spirits of the city probably came from the near nonexistent crime rate. Anyone working for the COL – Raven was a good example – was arrested and jailed. The COL's activity, according to a happy Cleo, was decreasing. Picking out a new leader was proving tricky for them. Though Cleo did not bring news of a breakup in the group, it was clear they were less of a threat now that their founder had joined the demons in hell.
Thus, thanks to all the good news, Freya was able to prepare for the tournament, and return to "normal" life, with surprising leisure.
"Why are you so nervous? You've survived a corporation and annihilated their leader!"
Sighing, Freya looked over at a very annoyed Amarant. She smiled nervously, readjusting her hat so it was not so lopsided. Picking up her new lance that she hoped not to lose, Freya rose from the stone bench she had been sitting at.
"I don't know," Freya admitted. "I guess since it took so long to defeat Julius—"
"Don't even dare tread that water! Julius was a mastermind at annihilating your kind! I highly doubt Wanderer's going to sending you against something you can't handle," Amarant interrupted, shaking his head with disbelief. He walked over and gave Freya a light cuff on the shoulder. "You are ridiculous."
"Thank you for the 'best of luck'," Freya grunted sarcastically. "I'll look for you, okay?"
"And I'll boo when you see me," Amarant said as a way of goodbye. He padded out of the room and headed upstairs, toward the stands of the Arena of the Dragon.
Freya sighed softly and looked around the massive cave that was actually the resting spot on the southern side of the arena. Deep within the mountains, a few miles away from the castle, the Burmecians had cut, out of the mountain's side, a massive arena. The arena, the stands, and the resting areas were all cut from the mountain. As Freya looked around the grey cave, she admired the amazing columns and ancient carvings the ancient Burmecians had put into making the arena, an arena worthy of Dragons. Carved in the walls of the rest arena were a long, endless bench, and a few torch holders and small "counters" to place items. It was a clever design.
Outside, Freya distinctly heard a massive gong, then a series of trumpets. Trying to shake off the last of her nervousness, Freya turned towards the small opening. She couldn't see the details of the Arena well, but she remembered from her childhood that they were spectacular.
"Attention, my fellow Burmecians," Freya heard Wanderer call, his accented voice smoothly travelling across the Arena. "We gather here to watch an amazing and significant battle. Today, our own Freya Crescent will fight one of the most dazzling creatures to try and show her chance to serve as a Dragon Warrior."
The trumpets sounded again, and Freya understood it was time to come out. She left the small cave, and was immediately shocked by the arena.
It was a massive rounded-rectangle arena, 385 feet long and 138 feet wide. The ground of the arena was completely smooth, grey, black-flecked stone. Rising, smoothly carved stone walls rose into the air and soon formed a railing, also carved from the stone. Stone seats, carved from the same mountain, rose steadily, and these seats could comfortably hold a startling 900 people, more if they were crowded in. Thus, the seats were not even half-full, containing only 163 people. At the northern part of the arena was another "room", and above it, a massive, stone stand where the gong, the musicians, Wanderer, and Anita sat comfortably in seats carved right from the same mountain. Above, clouds billowed in the sky, but the snow that fell was light, and the clouds were so thin that you could see the sun blazing in the sky.
It took Freya a few seconds to realize that 163 people were now making a whole lot of noise. Cheers, whistles, and shouts erupted from the stairs, causing Freya's ears to twitch with slight irritation. Getting slowly used to the bright sun, Freya looked around, and soon located Dominic, Meander, Amarant, Vivi and his sons, Fratley, Cleo, Eiko, Kitski, and Puck all sitting together. All of them appeared to be cheering or at least trying to encourage her, except for Meander and Amarant. Freya was not surprised, and turned her attention back to Wanderer, who had risen.
"Now, may the challenge arise," Wanderer said, taking a sword out from behind him. "Watch the wonders of the Spirit Gladiator."
A murmur came up in the crowd. Freya watched as Wanderer held the sword by the hilt, and put the tip carefully on the ground. Bowing his head, he closed his eyes. For a few seconds, nothing seemed to happen. No sounds were made, and it was strangely quiet.
Then, suddenly, a flash of light erupted from Wanderer's hands. The burst of light split into five strands of light that encircled Wanderer. The strands of light did a few loops around him before spiraling upward toward the center of arena. When the spirals of light were about 200 feet above the arena, they suddenly combined. Another massive flash of light came, temporarily blinding most of the group due to the brightness. Freya automatically held her hand in front of her eyes to shield her eyes from the bright light.
A distinct roar filled the air. Freya heard a series of gasps. She then felt the ground shake as something massive hit the ground. Slowly Freya lowered her hand, and gasped with shock, eyes wide, when she saw the creature standing before her.
It was massive. The dragon was twenty feet long from the tip of its four-foot snout to the end of its six-foot tail. It was fourteen feet high at the shoulder, and its neck was a startling six feet long. Its head seemed well proportioned for its body, even the four-feet-long black horns atop it. Three-foot tusks hung from the dragon's snout, and two four-foot black, thin membrane hung from either side of its jowl. The membrane resembled whiskers. The dragon was covered in black, metal-like plates of scales. Each plate had a sharp, one-foot-long spike at the top that rose slightly away from the above plate. The plates at the dragon's neck, chest, and underbelly were especially thick, and especially sharp. The plates on its snout were thinner than the others. The black claws on the dragon's massive, four-feet-long feet were a startling five-feet-long, longer than the foot they belonged to. At the end of the dragon's tail was a sharp spike. The dragon lifted its head to the sky and roared, revealing two rows of small, sharp teeth on either side of its mouth. It spread its wings, revealing tough, black membrane and a wingspan of twenty-five feet. The dragon then focused its gaze on Freya, its red eyes locking on her green eyes.
Murmurs went through the crowd. The same name was murmured again and again: "Undead Dragon". And they were correct. Before them was a dragon that was supposed to be a legend. A legend told of a dragon that ruled the underworld and brought the miseries of the world. A legend told of a dragon that wanted to destroy the world. Now, right before them, the legend's infamous star was before them. The Undead Dragon, Daskara, was before them.
"May the tournament begin!" Wanderer suddenly called.
Daskara let out a powerful roar, spreading his wings and soon taking to the skies. Freya spun her spear about, examining the dragon with her eyes. She wondered if the spaces between the dragon's plates were weak spots. Only experimenting would give the answer. Knowing her first method, Freya launched herself into the air.
Daskara roared, fire forming within his maw. Freya spun her spear about, silently calling the power of Lancer to her. Below, within the stands, the small audience watched with awe as dragon and Burmecian seemed fixed in the air, unable to rise or fall.
Then, suddenly, Daskara sent flaming breath at Freya. Just at that moment, Freya went falling downward. She just managed to escape the dragon's fiery breath. Freya tossed her spear forward, hoping to hit a spot hidden within the space between Daskara's plates.
Snarling, Daskara quickly noted Freya's spear whizzing toward him. He shifted to try and avoid it, but the spear came too quickly. It slammed straight through a spike on one of Daskara's plates, shattering it. It then, with less pressure, slammed into a plate hidden by the spike. The Lancer energy provided just enough pressure and speed to penetrate the thick spike, but not the skin hidden below it.
Gasps of amazement came from below as pieces of Daskara's spike fell into the crowd. Freya watched as Daskara plucked her spear from his spike. He then tossed it back toward her tip-first. Freya rolled out of the way of the attack and grabbed her spear's handle as it went whizzing past her. She then back-flipped out of the way of a sudden bite coming from Daskara. Daskara snarled, landing smoothly on the ground. He swiped at Freya with his massive claws, but Freya simply danced backward, holding her spear out in front of her.
"Power of the heaven's, send the power of the mighty warriors!" Freya shouted.
Daskara snarled with anger, then with pain as a dragon spirit plowed through him, coming from a dragon pentagram hidden under the dragon's large body. The dragon spirit shattered a few of the weaker plates, but the thick plates on the Undead Dragon's underbelly stayed intact. A shower of black particles fell onto Daskara. He snorted with annoyance, lowered himself slightly, and lifted a massive foot. He began to rub at his face, trying to remove some particles dangerously close to his eyes.
Freya rushed forward and soon leapt into the air, soaring straight over Daskara's head. Startled gasps coming from the crowd proved she had startled quite a few onlookers. Spinning her spear around as Freya soared down toward Daskara's now vulnerable back, Freya soon sent her spear straight into the middle of Daskara's back. Daskara roared with pain, quickly rising to his feet and snarling, looking back at Freya with annoyance.
Most creatures would've bucked, reared, and tossed about, trying to throw Freya off. But Daskara proved to be smarter. He suddenly leapt in the air, then turned himself upside down, and headed downward to send himself back first into the ground. Freya's eyes widened with shock. She used gravity to her advantage. Quickly she pulled her spear free, fell to the ground and leapt toward safety. She almost made it. Her foot was soon squashed between the ground and Daskara's body. Freya winced with pain, while Daskara growled with satisfaction. Horrified gasps came from the crowd.
Daskara rolled to his feet, allowing Freya to rise painfully to her feet. Though her left foot throbbed, it was not broken, though tender and painful. Lightly putting it on the ground, Freya looked up to see Daskara's jaws moving to close in on her. There was no way Freya could move in time, and she soon found herself in the dragon's mouth.
Freya thought quickly. She rolled about on the dragon's slimy tongue, and shoved her spear into the upper roof of the dragon's mouth. Daskara let out a choked scream, thrashing about instinctively for a few seconds. He tried to swallow, but Freya only shoved the spear in further when she felt the pressure. Daskara screamed, then began to choke. Freya wrenched her spear out of the dragon, and allowed herself to be coughed onto the ground. She slammed hard into the ground, and soon was dazed.
When Freya regained her senses, she soon heard the amazed cheering coming from the crowd. She leapt to her feet, not fazed by the slimy salivation dripping from her. Daskara was coughing up a little more blood, but quickly focused on Freya. The dragon looked extremely annoyed. He roared, then charged for Freya. Freya rolled out of the way, but was quickly surprised when Daskara swerved, lowered his body, and used the sharp spike at the end of his wing to puncture Freya's left shoulder deeply, lift her in the air, and send her flying into a stone wall. Freya fell to the ground with a hard crash, and gasps were heard.
Freya groaned deeply, staggering to her feet and wishing bitterly that potions could've been allowed into the arena. Dragon Warrior tradition considered it "cheating" in a tournament and Wanderer had kept with the tradition. As Daskara charged for her, however, Freya quickly remembered something else she could do to heal herself.
With a powerful leap, Freya soared high above Daskara, who snarled with deep exasperation. Freya spun her spear about, mentally calling upon the powers of Reis's Wind. White Dragon Spirits encircled her, sending powder onto her. Soon, Freya's wounds began to heal themselves. Noting this, Daskara leapt into the air and clamped his teeth onto the leg of an unprepared Freya.
It didn't take long – only two seconds – for Freya to react to the extreme pain in her leg. She spun her spear above and sent the sharp point straight into one of Daskara's nearly hidden nostrils. Daskara instinctively opened his mouth and snarled with pain, releasing Freya in the process. Yet Freya allowed her spear to drag along. The spear slowly cut through the thin plates on Daskara's snout, leaving a blood trail. Freya soon landed on the ground, and crumbled into a heap, her bloody leg not able to take her weight. Cursing softly, Freya rolled away from Daskara's rising foot. She rolled about five feet until she rose to her knees. While Daskara pawed at his nostril, trying to lower the bleeding, Freya examined her leg. Though bleeding, Regen was quickly doing its work, and Freya suspected that it would hopefully support her weight soon. The fracture – Freya knew there was one – looked clean. Regen could probably as least partially mend the bone together, though the chances were rare, depending on how bad the fracture was.
There were a few minutes of no activity as Freya and Daskara both tried to recover from their latest trials. The audience seemed to be holding their breath, wondering what was to come. Freya didn't blame them. For all the past activity, it seemed as if something exciting had to happen.
Daskara clearly wanted it to happen. He suddenly roared, his mouth beginning to fill with a dark substance. Front legs off the ground, he stayed still, seeming paralyzed in his position. Expecting the worse, Freya rose shakily to her feet, finding that her leg could support minimal weight. She needed it stronger, but first, she had to figure out what Daskara was doing, and how to dodge.
Soon, Freya found that there was no way to dodge, and if there was, she didn't know of it. For suddenly, Daskara shot a ball of dark energy at Freya. Freya moved to roll out of the way, but the ball only expanded to fit where she was. Freya tried to jump, and managed to get into the air, but the ball only followed her. Finally, it reached her, and Freya was engulfed in the dark substance.
A strange, tingling feeling reverberated through Freya's body. Freya tried to see through the black membrane, but she couldn't. It was too dark. Now really expecting the worse, Freya tried to move her spear. It didn't work. The black membrane resisted the movement. Soon, however, it didn't matter, for purple electricity shot through the membrane, and Freya soon was struggling not to scream.
Suddenly, the membrane disappeared. Freya fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. Gasps, murmurs of worry, and cries were heard from the crowd, but to Freya, they sounded strangely far away. Daskara roared, sounding triumphant. Hearing this sound seemed to strengthen Freya. Out of all things she would let the dragon have, victory was not one of them.
All sounds and movement in the disturbed audience stopped when Freya twitched. All eyes focused on her. Freya twitched again, realizing her body was, indeed, responding. Slowly she moved her arms to help push her up. She slowly pushed herself to her feet, and staggered about a bit, dizzy.
Daskara growled with shock, his red eyes widening. Gasps of surprise came through the crowd, then shouts of encouragement and cheers. No one had expected Freya to rise in a mere five seconds. Freya managed to regain her balance, and stared toward Daskara, her vision blurry. She could see Daskara's look of shock, and it made her smirk. He didn't think she'd still be conscious.
"Power of the heavens, send the cherry blossoms of hope!"
Freya's throaty, yet powerful voice reverberated through the arena. Pink petals encircled Daskara, who was still staring at Freya was shock. As the dragon spirit plowed through him, the only thought in his mind was, "She shouldn't still be standing!"
Daskara was soon brought back to reality when the pink petals erupted in flames. The flames scorched his plate-like scales, weakening them, and making some of the already-weakened ones fall off. The scales on his throat, underbelly, and chest, however, were still untouched. They didn't even look slightly affected by all the damage.
Yet Freya knew it did not matter. She spun her spear around, charging it with the power of Lancer. Her legs were still weak, but she knew she could at least try to run. Taking a deep breath, Freya dashed forward, and by luck, her legs held.
What her legs didn't hold well to, however, was leaping in the air. When Freya moved to leap, her legs crumpled below her. Somehow, however, she managed to get slightly in to the air. She threw her spear just as she fell face-first into the stony ground. A snarl of pain from Daskara startled her. She felt herself being showered with sharp, metallic-like pieces. When Freya rose to her knees, she found she had been showered with pieces of Daskara's plates. Hearing the dragon thrash about, Freya lifted her gaze, and was very surprised to find her spear had been thrown just right to hit Daskara in the knee.
Daskara was now extremely annoyed. He lowered his mouth and wrenched Freya's spear out. Yelping with pain from the act, he dropped Freya's spear. Freya caught it and rolled away from the dragon. She rose shakily to her feet, and was very surprised to watch Daskara crumple into his own heap when he tried to run after her. Growling, he rose to three legs. He tried to lower the leg with the damaged knee to the ground, but then growled with pain when the leg wouldn't hold. Freya's eyes widened with shock while cheers erupted from the crowd. She had not expected to maim the dragon with such a throw.
Now, however, was her chance. Freya lifted her spear in the air.
"Power of the heavens, send the dragon's breath!" Freya shouted, at the same time calling upon Lancer's power.
A dragon head appeared in the ground and sent a fiery breath onto Daskara, causing the dragon to snarl and back away. He was so concerned with the dragon head that he didn't notice Freya rush forward and leap into the air. It seemed her legs had recovered, for Freya managed to leap right up to Daskara's slightly lowered head. She slammed her spear into the spot right behind his horns. She felt the dragon's skull stop the attack mid- way, but that was the idea. She didn't want to kill the dragon; she wanted to let it know she could kill it.
Daskara thrashed his head about for a second, but only caused Freya to slide her spear along, cutting a long wound in the dragon's head. Daskara's thrashing suddenly stopped. Freya smirked lightly, knowing the dragon was thinking over his actions. Either that or the pain from thrashing about and nearly slicing his own head open was too much. Not caring which one it was, Freya dislodged her spear and leapt backwards. She soared straight away from the dragon's head, spun her spear about, and sent the spear into Daskara's already-damaged knee. She dragged it downward freely, now that Dragon's Breath had burned away most of the plates. Daskara snarled, and startled Freya when he allowed himself to fall to the ground. She soon found out why.
It seemed that Daskara had one last attack. He suddenly reached out and grabbed Freya in one of his clawed paws. His grip on her tightened, and Freya felt a few of her ribs crack from the pressure of the grip. She managed not to yelp with pain. The dragon's claws clinked against his paw as the two met. The grip got tighter, and Freya let out a startled gasp, the breath taken away from her lungs. She felt as if she was going to be squeezed into a pulp.
Little did she know that it was the exact feeling Daskara wanted to invoke. He slowly increased the pressure, causing startled gasps and cries from the audience. Freya gritted her teeth, unable to breathe. Her lungs couldn't expand due to the tightening grip. Daskara was clearly pleased.
Ten seconds passed by, and weakness from no oxygen became very evident as Freya began to sag. Satisfied, Daskara suddenly tossed her toward the southern wall. Freya flew straight into it and crumpled in a heap on the ground. Startled cries came from the audience. Daskara tried to rise but couldn't. Freya lied still. Neither moved.
Technically, the battle was over. The audience was tense and panicked, unsure of who was the victor. Neither fighter had risen. Some of the audience murmured that Freya might be dead. Daskara was watching his fallen opponent with calm red eyes. The dragon clearly knew something the others did not. Wanderer was also looking unusually calm. The dragon and Wanderer seemed to share some information.
Just after 15 long-seeming seconds, when the atmosphere seemed too tense for comfort, Freya twitched. Anyone who had been watching her closely would've noted that she had started breathing five seconds after having hit the ground. With oxygen now in her system, her body began to recover. Freya sighed softly, shaking a bit as her body struggled to rise. Sound sounded too loud for her.
Yet soon she had almost fully recovered, and Freya surprised everyone but Daskara and Wanderer by staggering to her feet. Holding onto the wall for support, Freya lifted her spear into her hand and looked over at Daskara, wondering if she still had to fight. Her body ached terribly, but she wouldn't give up.
To Freya's great shock, Daskara lowered his head and body in defeat. Freya stared at him with disbelief, wondering how the dragon could possibly be giving the victory to her when he had the chance to kill her. Wondering if there was some type of trick, Freya looked toward Wanderer, only to find he had opened his mouth to speak.
"And so this battle shows the victor of this long, dangerous tournament. May I present our winner, and new Dragon Warrior, Freya Crescent!" Wanderer shouted.
Cheers erupted from the audience, cheers of relief, victory, and happiness. Blinking with surprise, Freya looked over at Daskara. The dragon looked at her with amusement. Freya slowly walked over and leaned against her spear, staring into the dragon's red eyes.
"May I ask why—"Freya began.
"Very simply the fact that there was no reason to kill you," Daskara replied in a rumbling voice that only Freya could here. "If you did not recover from that final blow, then it would've been my victory. Killing you would've proved nothing. You had not killed me. I did not have to kill you."
"It seems as if I am not right to win this," Freya replied.
"Not right to win? You survived being nearly squeezed to death. Your skills in fighting are excellent, but so is your recovery. Most would've been out by the time they were knocked into a wall. You deserved to win this," Daskara said. "A few times you fell, a few times you looked dead, but your recovery was quicker than anything I've seen."
"Well, then I thank you," Freya said, bowing lightly.
"Don't thank me. Thank yourself, and whoever trained you to be like this," Daskara grunted, shifting a bit.
Thank Ebon? No chance, Freya though bitterly, nodding at the dragon.
Freya turned about and, knowing she could go, slowly walked back to the southern chamber. It was there that Fratley greeted her. He hugged her, but thankfully was careful, clearly knowing of her cracked ribs.
"That was amazin'," Fratley said. "'Ow did ya do it?"
"I just... Did?" Freya guessed, not knowing how to answer the question.
Fratley laughed. "I guess that'll do. The Burmecians were goin' nuts. I think they thought ya were dead a few times. Hell, even I thought ya were dead a few times!"
"I thought I was going to die a few times," Freya admitted.
"Only looking dead twice, though. Not bad," Amarant grunted, entering the room.
"Except now I've got cracked bones," Freya replied. "Not enjoyable."
"You'll recover. If you can recover from being squeezed, I think this should be no problem," Amarant grunted. "Now, come on. There's a huge party being held, and there's enough food to feet five dragons."
Amarant turned around and headed up the stone stairs. Fratley nodded lightly at Freya, and soon followed Amarant. Freya moved to follow, then stopped and looked toward the arena. Daskara was gone, but the memory of the fight was fresh in her mind. The feelings she had felt while fighting were still in her mind. The fight had been thrilling in its danger.
Smiling lightly, Freya slowly headed upstairs and toward the party to relax for the first time all day.
-------- That was a fun battle scene to write, heh ;) Daskara is awesome... Almost as awesome as Meander... ANYWAY, -cough-, the final chapter will be coming soon, and the edits I made in the chapters ARE slight plot changes (would I have bothered telling you about them if they were just fixing up spelling mistakes?). Cleo is a SHE, if you couldn't read the constant female pronouns, Dominic's ability to kill people speaks for itself, Wanderer can't retire because he's king (Robshi, are you awake? ;) ), and this sentence is getting unnecessarily long. I hope you liked the fight scene, and the next chapter is the grand finale.
This story is copyright to me. Some characters, locations, and Gaia in general are copyright to SquareEnix.
Two Weeks Later; Burmecia; Arena of the Dragon
For the first time in about a month, Freya's life began to slow down. She found that she was able to sleep more deeply, and feel more refreshed. The Burmecians around the city were always praising her. Freya would often pass by and hear them whisper of how she defeated Julius on her own. No matter how many times Freya tried to convince them that she had help, the Burmecians wanted to believe it was only her.
A few Burmecians spoke of Dominic, and how he had been able to command Julius to do anything. They seemed confused on how he didn't just command Julius to die. Many concluded that he couldn't, but Fratley, curious, chose to ask. Dominic had fidgeted, blushed, and left the room, seeming highly disturbed by the question. No one asked again.
The entire city retold tales of how Freya survived Julius countless times, and of how even her father Eroy had not survived. They seemed awed by it, and no matter what Freya did to try and convince them that she had had help, the Burmecians wanted to believe in her. Flattered, Freya allowed them to.
Yet no matter how excited the Burmecians were at Julius' fall, it couldn't meet their excitement at the battle soon to come. Freya couldn't remember an earlier time when she had gotten more praise, encouragement, and "good lucks" than then. Everyone had something to say to her about the tournament to get her Dragon Warrior status. Everyone believed she could do it.
Then again, the good spirits of the city probably came from the near nonexistent crime rate. Anyone working for the COL – Raven was a good example – was arrested and jailed. The COL's activity, according to a happy Cleo, was decreasing. Picking out a new leader was proving tricky for them. Though Cleo did not bring news of a breakup in the group, it was clear they were less of a threat now that their founder had joined the demons in hell.
Thus, thanks to all the good news, Freya was able to prepare for the tournament, and return to "normal" life, with surprising leisure.
"Why are you so nervous? You've survived a corporation and annihilated their leader!"
Sighing, Freya looked over at a very annoyed Amarant. She smiled nervously, readjusting her hat so it was not so lopsided. Picking up her new lance that she hoped not to lose, Freya rose from the stone bench she had been sitting at.
"I don't know," Freya admitted. "I guess since it took so long to defeat Julius—"
"Don't even dare tread that water! Julius was a mastermind at annihilating your kind! I highly doubt Wanderer's going to sending you against something you can't handle," Amarant interrupted, shaking his head with disbelief. He walked over and gave Freya a light cuff on the shoulder. "You are ridiculous."
"Thank you for the 'best of luck'," Freya grunted sarcastically. "I'll look for you, okay?"
"And I'll boo when you see me," Amarant said as a way of goodbye. He padded out of the room and headed upstairs, toward the stands of the Arena of the Dragon.
Freya sighed softly and looked around the massive cave that was actually the resting spot on the southern side of the arena. Deep within the mountains, a few miles away from the castle, the Burmecians had cut, out of the mountain's side, a massive arena. The arena, the stands, and the resting areas were all cut from the mountain. As Freya looked around the grey cave, she admired the amazing columns and ancient carvings the ancient Burmecians had put into making the arena, an arena worthy of Dragons. Carved in the walls of the rest arena were a long, endless bench, and a few torch holders and small "counters" to place items. It was a clever design.
Outside, Freya distinctly heard a massive gong, then a series of trumpets. Trying to shake off the last of her nervousness, Freya turned towards the small opening. She couldn't see the details of the Arena well, but she remembered from her childhood that they were spectacular.
"Attention, my fellow Burmecians," Freya heard Wanderer call, his accented voice smoothly travelling across the Arena. "We gather here to watch an amazing and significant battle. Today, our own Freya Crescent will fight one of the most dazzling creatures to try and show her chance to serve as a Dragon Warrior."
The trumpets sounded again, and Freya understood it was time to come out. She left the small cave, and was immediately shocked by the arena.
It was a massive rounded-rectangle arena, 385 feet long and 138 feet wide. The ground of the arena was completely smooth, grey, black-flecked stone. Rising, smoothly carved stone walls rose into the air and soon formed a railing, also carved from the stone. Stone seats, carved from the same mountain, rose steadily, and these seats could comfortably hold a startling 900 people, more if they were crowded in. Thus, the seats were not even half-full, containing only 163 people. At the northern part of the arena was another "room", and above it, a massive, stone stand where the gong, the musicians, Wanderer, and Anita sat comfortably in seats carved right from the same mountain. Above, clouds billowed in the sky, but the snow that fell was light, and the clouds were so thin that you could see the sun blazing in the sky.
It took Freya a few seconds to realize that 163 people were now making a whole lot of noise. Cheers, whistles, and shouts erupted from the stairs, causing Freya's ears to twitch with slight irritation. Getting slowly used to the bright sun, Freya looked around, and soon located Dominic, Meander, Amarant, Vivi and his sons, Fratley, Cleo, Eiko, Kitski, and Puck all sitting together. All of them appeared to be cheering or at least trying to encourage her, except for Meander and Amarant. Freya was not surprised, and turned her attention back to Wanderer, who had risen.
"Now, may the challenge arise," Wanderer said, taking a sword out from behind him. "Watch the wonders of the Spirit Gladiator."
A murmur came up in the crowd. Freya watched as Wanderer held the sword by the hilt, and put the tip carefully on the ground. Bowing his head, he closed his eyes. For a few seconds, nothing seemed to happen. No sounds were made, and it was strangely quiet.
Then, suddenly, a flash of light erupted from Wanderer's hands. The burst of light split into five strands of light that encircled Wanderer. The strands of light did a few loops around him before spiraling upward toward the center of arena. When the spirals of light were about 200 feet above the arena, they suddenly combined. Another massive flash of light came, temporarily blinding most of the group due to the brightness. Freya automatically held her hand in front of her eyes to shield her eyes from the bright light.
A distinct roar filled the air. Freya heard a series of gasps. She then felt the ground shake as something massive hit the ground. Slowly Freya lowered her hand, and gasped with shock, eyes wide, when she saw the creature standing before her.
It was massive. The dragon was twenty feet long from the tip of its four-foot snout to the end of its six-foot tail. It was fourteen feet high at the shoulder, and its neck was a startling six feet long. Its head seemed well proportioned for its body, even the four-feet-long black horns atop it. Three-foot tusks hung from the dragon's snout, and two four-foot black, thin membrane hung from either side of its jowl. The membrane resembled whiskers. The dragon was covered in black, metal-like plates of scales. Each plate had a sharp, one-foot-long spike at the top that rose slightly away from the above plate. The plates at the dragon's neck, chest, and underbelly were especially thick, and especially sharp. The plates on its snout were thinner than the others. The black claws on the dragon's massive, four-feet-long feet were a startling five-feet-long, longer than the foot they belonged to. At the end of the dragon's tail was a sharp spike. The dragon lifted its head to the sky and roared, revealing two rows of small, sharp teeth on either side of its mouth. It spread its wings, revealing tough, black membrane and a wingspan of twenty-five feet. The dragon then focused its gaze on Freya, its red eyes locking on her green eyes.
Murmurs went through the crowd. The same name was murmured again and again: "Undead Dragon". And they were correct. Before them was a dragon that was supposed to be a legend. A legend told of a dragon that ruled the underworld and brought the miseries of the world. A legend told of a dragon that wanted to destroy the world. Now, right before them, the legend's infamous star was before them. The Undead Dragon, Daskara, was before them.
"May the tournament begin!" Wanderer suddenly called.
Daskara let out a powerful roar, spreading his wings and soon taking to the skies. Freya spun her spear about, examining the dragon with her eyes. She wondered if the spaces between the dragon's plates were weak spots. Only experimenting would give the answer. Knowing her first method, Freya launched herself into the air.
Daskara roared, fire forming within his maw. Freya spun her spear about, silently calling the power of Lancer to her. Below, within the stands, the small audience watched with awe as dragon and Burmecian seemed fixed in the air, unable to rise or fall.
Then, suddenly, Daskara sent flaming breath at Freya. Just at that moment, Freya went falling downward. She just managed to escape the dragon's fiery breath. Freya tossed her spear forward, hoping to hit a spot hidden within the space between Daskara's plates.
Snarling, Daskara quickly noted Freya's spear whizzing toward him. He shifted to try and avoid it, but the spear came too quickly. It slammed straight through a spike on one of Daskara's plates, shattering it. It then, with less pressure, slammed into a plate hidden by the spike. The Lancer energy provided just enough pressure and speed to penetrate the thick spike, but not the skin hidden below it.
Gasps of amazement came from below as pieces of Daskara's spike fell into the crowd. Freya watched as Daskara plucked her spear from his spike. He then tossed it back toward her tip-first. Freya rolled out of the way of the attack and grabbed her spear's handle as it went whizzing past her. She then back-flipped out of the way of a sudden bite coming from Daskara. Daskara snarled, landing smoothly on the ground. He swiped at Freya with his massive claws, but Freya simply danced backward, holding her spear out in front of her.
"Power of the heaven's, send the power of the mighty warriors!" Freya shouted.
Daskara snarled with anger, then with pain as a dragon spirit plowed through him, coming from a dragon pentagram hidden under the dragon's large body. The dragon spirit shattered a few of the weaker plates, but the thick plates on the Undead Dragon's underbelly stayed intact. A shower of black particles fell onto Daskara. He snorted with annoyance, lowered himself slightly, and lifted a massive foot. He began to rub at his face, trying to remove some particles dangerously close to his eyes.
Freya rushed forward and soon leapt into the air, soaring straight over Daskara's head. Startled gasps coming from the crowd proved she had startled quite a few onlookers. Spinning her spear around as Freya soared down toward Daskara's now vulnerable back, Freya soon sent her spear straight into the middle of Daskara's back. Daskara roared with pain, quickly rising to his feet and snarling, looking back at Freya with annoyance.
Most creatures would've bucked, reared, and tossed about, trying to throw Freya off. But Daskara proved to be smarter. He suddenly leapt in the air, then turned himself upside down, and headed downward to send himself back first into the ground. Freya's eyes widened with shock. She used gravity to her advantage. Quickly she pulled her spear free, fell to the ground and leapt toward safety. She almost made it. Her foot was soon squashed between the ground and Daskara's body. Freya winced with pain, while Daskara growled with satisfaction. Horrified gasps came from the crowd.
Daskara rolled to his feet, allowing Freya to rise painfully to her feet. Though her left foot throbbed, it was not broken, though tender and painful. Lightly putting it on the ground, Freya looked up to see Daskara's jaws moving to close in on her. There was no way Freya could move in time, and she soon found herself in the dragon's mouth.
Freya thought quickly. She rolled about on the dragon's slimy tongue, and shoved her spear into the upper roof of the dragon's mouth. Daskara let out a choked scream, thrashing about instinctively for a few seconds. He tried to swallow, but Freya only shoved the spear in further when she felt the pressure. Daskara screamed, then began to choke. Freya wrenched her spear out of the dragon, and allowed herself to be coughed onto the ground. She slammed hard into the ground, and soon was dazed.
When Freya regained her senses, she soon heard the amazed cheering coming from the crowd. She leapt to her feet, not fazed by the slimy salivation dripping from her. Daskara was coughing up a little more blood, but quickly focused on Freya. The dragon looked extremely annoyed. He roared, then charged for Freya. Freya rolled out of the way, but was quickly surprised when Daskara swerved, lowered his body, and used the sharp spike at the end of his wing to puncture Freya's left shoulder deeply, lift her in the air, and send her flying into a stone wall. Freya fell to the ground with a hard crash, and gasps were heard.
Freya groaned deeply, staggering to her feet and wishing bitterly that potions could've been allowed into the arena. Dragon Warrior tradition considered it "cheating" in a tournament and Wanderer had kept with the tradition. As Daskara charged for her, however, Freya quickly remembered something else she could do to heal herself.
With a powerful leap, Freya soared high above Daskara, who snarled with deep exasperation. Freya spun her spear about, mentally calling upon the powers of Reis's Wind. White Dragon Spirits encircled her, sending powder onto her. Soon, Freya's wounds began to heal themselves. Noting this, Daskara leapt into the air and clamped his teeth onto the leg of an unprepared Freya.
It didn't take long – only two seconds – for Freya to react to the extreme pain in her leg. She spun her spear above and sent the sharp point straight into one of Daskara's nearly hidden nostrils. Daskara instinctively opened his mouth and snarled with pain, releasing Freya in the process. Yet Freya allowed her spear to drag along. The spear slowly cut through the thin plates on Daskara's snout, leaving a blood trail. Freya soon landed on the ground, and crumbled into a heap, her bloody leg not able to take her weight. Cursing softly, Freya rolled away from Daskara's rising foot. She rolled about five feet until she rose to her knees. While Daskara pawed at his nostril, trying to lower the bleeding, Freya examined her leg. Though bleeding, Regen was quickly doing its work, and Freya suspected that it would hopefully support her weight soon. The fracture – Freya knew there was one – looked clean. Regen could probably as least partially mend the bone together, though the chances were rare, depending on how bad the fracture was.
There were a few minutes of no activity as Freya and Daskara both tried to recover from their latest trials. The audience seemed to be holding their breath, wondering what was to come. Freya didn't blame them. For all the past activity, it seemed as if something exciting had to happen.
Daskara clearly wanted it to happen. He suddenly roared, his mouth beginning to fill with a dark substance. Front legs off the ground, he stayed still, seeming paralyzed in his position. Expecting the worse, Freya rose shakily to her feet, finding that her leg could support minimal weight. She needed it stronger, but first, she had to figure out what Daskara was doing, and how to dodge.
Soon, Freya found that there was no way to dodge, and if there was, she didn't know of it. For suddenly, Daskara shot a ball of dark energy at Freya. Freya moved to roll out of the way, but the ball only expanded to fit where she was. Freya tried to jump, and managed to get into the air, but the ball only followed her. Finally, it reached her, and Freya was engulfed in the dark substance.
A strange, tingling feeling reverberated through Freya's body. Freya tried to see through the black membrane, but she couldn't. It was too dark. Now really expecting the worse, Freya tried to move her spear. It didn't work. The black membrane resisted the movement. Soon, however, it didn't matter, for purple electricity shot through the membrane, and Freya soon was struggling not to scream.
Suddenly, the membrane disappeared. Freya fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. Gasps, murmurs of worry, and cries were heard from the crowd, but to Freya, they sounded strangely far away. Daskara roared, sounding triumphant. Hearing this sound seemed to strengthen Freya. Out of all things she would let the dragon have, victory was not one of them.
All sounds and movement in the disturbed audience stopped when Freya twitched. All eyes focused on her. Freya twitched again, realizing her body was, indeed, responding. Slowly she moved her arms to help push her up. She slowly pushed herself to her feet, and staggered about a bit, dizzy.
Daskara growled with shock, his red eyes widening. Gasps of surprise came through the crowd, then shouts of encouragement and cheers. No one had expected Freya to rise in a mere five seconds. Freya managed to regain her balance, and stared toward Daskara, her vision blurry. She could see Daskara's look of shock, and it made her smirk. He didn't think she'd still be conscious.
"Power of the heavens, send the cherry blossoms of hope!"
Freya's throaty, yet powerful voice reverberated through the arena. Pink petals encircled Daskara, who was still staring at Freya was shock. As the dragon spirit plowed through him, the only thought in his mind was, "She shouldn't still be standing!"
Daskara was soon brought back to reality when the pink petals erupted in flames. The flames scorched his plate-like scales, weakening them, and making some of the already-weakened ones fall off. The scales on his throat, underbelly, and chest, however, were still untouched. They didn't even look slightly affected by all the damage.
Yet Freya knew it did not matter. She spun her spear around, charging it with the power of Lancer. Her legs were still weak, but she knew she could at least try to run. Taking a deep breath, Freya dashed forward, and by luck, her legs held.
What her legs didn't hold well to, however, was leaping in the air. When Freya moved to leap, her legs crumpled below her. Somehow, however, she managed to get slightly in to the air. She threw her spear just as she fell face-first into the stony ground. A snarl of pain from Daskara startled her. She felt herself being showered with sharp, metallic-like pieces. When Freya rose to her knees, she found she had been showered with pieces of Daskara's plates. Hearing the dragon thrash about, Freya lifted her gaze, and was very surprised to find her spear had been thrown just right to hit Daskara in the knee.
Daskara was now extremely annoyed. He lowered his mouth and wrenched Freya's spear out. Yelping with pain from the act, he dropped Freya's spear. Freya caught it and rolled away from the dragon. She rose shakily to her feet, and was very surprised to watch Daskara crumple into his own heap when he tried to run after her. Growling, he rose to three legs. He tried to lower the leg with the damaged knee to the ground, but then growled with pain when the leg wouldn't hold. Freya's eyes widened with shock while cheers erupted from the crowd. She had not expected to maim the dragon with such a throw.
Now, however, was her chance. Freya lifted her spear in the air.
"Power of the heavens, send the dragon's breath!" Freya shouted, at the same time calling upon Lancer's power.
A dragon head appeared in the ground and sent a fiery breath onto Daskara, causing the dragon to snarl and back away. He was so concerned with the dragon head that he didn't notice Freya rush forward and leap into the air. It seemed her legs had recovered, for Freya managed to leap right up to Daskara's slightly lowered head. She slammed her spear into the spot right behind his horns. She felt the dragon's skull stop the attack mid- way, but that was the idea. She didn't want to kill the dragon; she wanted to let it know she could kill it.
Daskara thrashed his head about for a second, but only caused Freya to slide her spear along, cutting a long wound in the dragon's head. Daskara's thrashing suddenly stopped. Freya smirked lightly, knowing the dragon was thinking over his actions. Either that or the pain from thrashing about and nearly slicing his own head open was too much. Not caring which one it was, Freya dislodged her spear and leapt backwards. She soared straight away from the dragon's head, spun her spear about, and sent the spear into Daskara's already-damaged knee. She dragged it downward freely, now that Dragon's Breath had burned away most of the plates. Daskara snarled, and startled Freya when he allowed himself to fall to the ground. She soon found out why.
It seemed that Daskara had one last attack. He suddenly reached out and grabbed Freya in one of his clawed paws. His grip on her tightened, and Freya felt a few of her ribs crack from the pressure of the grip. She managed not to yelp with pain. The dragon's claws clinked against his paw as the two met. The grip got tighter, and Freya let out a startled gasp, the breath taken away from her lungs. She felt as if she was going to be squeezed into a pulp.
Little did she know that it was the exact feeling Daskara wanted to invoke. He slowly increased the pressure, causing startled gasps and cries from the audience. Freya gritted her teeth, unable to breathe. Her lungs couldn't expand due to the tightening grip. Daskara was clearly pleased.
Ten seconds passed by, and weakness from no oxygen became very evident as Freya began to sag. Satisfied, Daskara suddenly tossed her toward the southern wall. Freya flew straight into it and crumpled in a heap on the ground. Startled cries came from the audience. Daskara tried to rise but couldn't. Freya lied still. Neither moved.
Technically, the battle was over. The audience was tense and panicked, unsure of who was the victor. Neither fighter had risen. Some of the audience murmured that Freya might be dead. Daskara was watching his fallen opponent with calm red eyes. The dragon clearly knew something the others did not. Wanderer was also looking unusually calm. The dragon and Wanderer seemed to share some information.
Just after 15 long-seeming seconds, when the atmosphere seemed too tense for comfort, Freya twitched. Anyone who had been watching her closely would've noted that she had started breathing five seconds after having hit the ground. With oxygen now in her system, her body began to recover. Freya sighed softly, shaking a bit as her body struggled to rise. Sound sounded too loud for her.
Yet soon she had almost fully recovered, and Freya surprised everyone but Daskara and Wanderer by staggering to her feet. Holding onto the wall for support, Freya lifted her spear into her hand and looked over at Daskara, wondering if she still had to fight. Her body ached terribly, but she wouldn't give up.
To Freya's great shock, Daskara lowered his head and body in defeat. Freya stared at him with disbelief, wondering how the dragon could possibly be giving the victory to her when he had the chance to kill her. Wondering if there was some type of trick, Freya looked toward Wanderer, only to find he had opened his mouth to speak.
"And so this battle shows the victor of this long, dangerous tournament. May I present our winner, and new Dragon Warrior, Freya Crescent!" Wanderer shouted.
Cheers erupted from the audience, cheers of relief, victory, and happiness. Blinking with surprise, Freya looked over at Daskara. The dragon looked at her with amusement. Freya slowly walked over and leaned against her spear, staring into the dragon's red eyes.
"May I ask why—"Freya began.
"Very simply the fact that there was no reason to kill you," Daskara replied in a rumbling voice that only Freya could here. "If you did not recover from that final blow, then it would've been my victory. Killing you would've proved nothing. You had not killed me. I did not have to kill you."
"It seems as if I am not right to win this," Freya replied.
"Not right to win? You survived being nearly squeezed to death. Your skills in fighting are excellent, but so is your recovery. Most would've been out by the time they were knocked into a wall. You deserved to win this," Daskara said. "A few times you fell, a few times you looked dead, but your recovery was quicker than anything I've seen."
"Well, then I thank you," Freya said, bowing lightly.
"Don't thank me. Thank yourself, and whoever trained you to be like this," Daskara grunted, shifting a bit.
Thank Ebon? No chance, Freya though bitterly, nodding at the dragon.
Freya turned about and, knowing she could go, slowly walked back to the southern chamber. It was there that Fratley greeted her. He hugged her, but thankfully was careful, clearly knowing of her cracked ribs.
"That was amazin'," Fratley said. "'Ow did ya do it?"
"I just... Did?" Freya guessed, not knowing how to answer the question.
Fratley laughed. "I guess that'll do. The Burmecians were goin' nuts. I think they thought ya were dead a few times. Hell, even I thought ya were dead a few times!"
"I thought I was going to die a few times," Freya admitted.
"Only looking dead twice, though. Not bad," Amarant grunted, entering the room.
"Except now I've got cracked bones," Freya replied. "Not enjoyable."
"You'll recover. If you can recover from being squeezed, I think this should be no problem," Amarant grunted. "Now, come on. There's a huge party being held, and there's enough food to feet five dragons."
Amarant turned around and headed up the stone stairs. Fratley nodded lightly at Freya, and soon followed Amarant. Freya moved to follow, then stopped and looked toward the arena. Daskara was gone, but the memory of the fight was fresh in her mind. The feelings she had felt while fighting were still in her mind. The fight had been thrilling in its danger.
Smiling lightly, Freya slowly headed upstairs and toward the party to relax for the first time all day.
-------- That was a fun battle scene to write, heh ;) Daskara is awesome... Almost as awesome as Meander... ANYWAY, -cough-, the final chapter will be coming soon, and the edits I made in the chapters ARE slight plot changes (would I have bothered telling you about them if they were just fixing up spelling mistakes?). Cleo is a SHE, if you couldn't read the constant female pronouns, Dominic's ability to kill people speaks for itself, Wanderer can't retire because he's king (Robshi, are you awake? ;) ), and this sentence is getting unnecessarily long. I hope you liked the fight scene, and the next chapter is the grand finale.
This story is copyright to me. Some characters, locations, and Gaia in general are copyright to SquareEnix.