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Final Fantasy VI: The Sands of Time

Book 1: The Beginning

Chapter 3 - For the Lovers

Part 3.3 - Last Stand

A mix of growls and snarls could be heard crashing through the forest growth only a few meters from the clearing where the Dragon patiently waited. It would only be a few more moments before the battle began. He was glad he was able to make it to this place before being caught. He needed his eyes for this battle, and the moonlight afforded him equal footing with the Red Fang's superior nocturnal vision. This would be a true test of his skills, for no one had stood their ground before a pack of Red Fangs and lived to tell the tale. With the sobering odds in his thoughts, the Dragon tightened his grip on the Scion, then closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. Battle was as much mental as it was physical, and clearing one's mind of all distractions was an important part of winning any fight.

Without warning all noise in the forest stopped, and the Dragon knew the game was on. He listened intently, eyes still closed, trying to gauge the last known position of the growls. His eyes shot open at the same instant a blur of red charged out of the brush and straight towards him. The Dragon had measured his foe well, and a blur of gold rushed to meet the oncoming blur of red. A pale blue glow quickly appeared between the two forces, and with one subtle movement the blade of the Scion was on a direct intercept course for the gaping maw of the Red Fang. A short yelp was all that was heard as the Scion sliced through the jaws and neck of the beast, killing it instantly.

Before the Dragon could regain his footing, two more blurs of red dashed into the clearing, just out of sight. He knew they were there, however, and knew what they were planning. Biggs and Wedge made easy targets, and the first strike was merely a feint to lure the main threat away from an easy kill. In one smooth stream of carefully calculated movements, the Dragon pulled his sword from its victim and spun around, the extended blade swinging with him. The blade flew from the Dragon's grasp, now a deadly missile homed in on its next victim. No sooner had the blade left his fingers than the Dragon was in motion, quickly following its path with equal precision. Before the two Red Fangs could reach the bodies of Biggs and Wedge, the Scion had plunged itself into the back of the furthest beast, and less than a second later the Dragon's armored bulk crashed into the closer one. A cry of pain went up from the impaled Red Fang, and it frantically ran in circles, trying to bite at the lethal dart in its side. The Dragon grappled with the other trying to use the massive bulk of his armor to pin it down to the ground as well as protecting himself from the wolf's poisonous bite. The creature was too enraged to be subdued so easily, though. The two combantants exchanged positions repeatedly as they vied for superiority, neither making any gains. If only the impaled Red Fang would come a bit closer in its blind agony, the Dragon could retrieve his weapon and the higher ground. For now, the unhappy creature was keeping its distance, letting out mournful howls into the night as blood poured from its wound and splattered onto the ground. The smell of blood seemed to invigorate the wolves, and the Dragon felt a new strength arise in the form beneath him. A new disturbance in the surroundings now reached the Dragon's keen senses, and he soon realized what it was, and that the real fight had begun.

A massive form suddenly crashed into the clearing, then let out a blood-curdling growl, almost a roar. It was the fourth Red Fang, only it was nearly twice as large as the others, and had a crazed look in its glowing red eyes. This must be the alpha male, the leader of the pack, attracted by the smell of blood and the cries of its allies. The leader usually only joined the fray to deliver the killing blow, allowing the lesser wolves to do the dirty work on unworthy foes. The monster's gaze quickly fell on the Dragon struggling with its brother on the ground, and rushed head-on towards the fight. With one momentous leap the creature was in the air and falling towards the two fighters. Its jaws were wide open and a stream of venomous spittle trailed behind it. Even armor would not provide protection from the incredible force of the alpha Red Fang's bite for long. The Dragon knew what to do, though, and with a quick heave to the side allowed the Red Fang below him to temporarily gain the advantage. Or so it thought. Before either beast realized what had happened, the jaws of the alpha male had sunk deep into the other's backside. The teeth had met flesh, and in the frenzied state the beast was in, whose flesh it was did not matter. The traitorous dog ripped the spine clean from its hapless victim's back, and with one last spastic convulsion, the prey's limp form ceased all movement. Unaffected by its mistake, the alpha wolf tossed the carcass of its brother aside and made for the prize beneath.

Meanwhile, the second Red Fang continued to struggle to free itself from the crystal spire sticking out of its back. It was no use though, nothing could pull the blade from so deep an impact. The creature gave one last gasping howl, then slumped down to die, a slight whimper still echoing from its fast fading form. The Scion, now stained a deep red, loomed over the body like a gruesome tombstone.

Only a few steps away, the struggle raged on between the alpha Red Fang and the Dragon. The first bite had glanced off the thick armor of the Dragon, causing the now lone alpha Red Fang a moment of confusion as its teeth rattled in its head. What was this strange hide that could withstand the unstoppable pressure of its jaws? Never had its bite met such resistance, and rarely was a second attempt necessary. The creature's brief disorientation allowed the Dragon a window of opportunity to break free from the fight and regain his footing. With a terrific push, the distracted beast's bulk was thrown to the side and the Dragon rolled over and onto his hands, pushing himself up with as much force as he could in the direction of the now dead second Red Fang. He staggered on hands and knees towards the corpse with as much speed as his still off-balance position allowed. Before he could make it to his feet the alpha Red Fang came to its senses, and lunged with barred teeth at its wily prey. The Dragon strained all his limbs to try and reach the sword and pull it from the dead form beneath. Just as his hands grasped the hilt, the alpha Red fang crashed into his side with the force of a boulder and knocked its target forward and into the air. The Dragon's grip on the sword remained strong, though, and the momentum of the blow had not only sent him flying, but had dislodged the sword from its deathly mount as well. The Dragon sailed through the air helplessly at first, but soon regained his sense of direction. With the grace of an acrobat, the Dragon turned his body in midair and pointed the sword at the ground, both hands tightly gripped on the hilt. The end of the blade plunged into the ground, and allowed the Dragon to steady himself and land without injury or loss of balance. He stood up, and quickly grabbed his side in pain. A large dent could be seen in the armor where the alpha wolf had collided with him, and it appeared the impact had broken several ribs. Pain was only an illusion, though, and the Dragon shrugged it off with contempt. He freed his sword from the ground and leveled it with the beast in front of him, now charging its prey once more. He eyed the coming threat carefully, knowing this adversary was more worthy than the first, and would not fall so quickly.

With a clash of fang and metal the two foes met head-on. The Scion caught the massive Red Fang in the mouth, doing only minimal damage to the wall of gleaming red teeth. Seemingly unaffected by the strike, the wolf slashed furiously with its equally sturdy claws at the weak point it had created in the Dragon's hide. After a few swipes a large hole had been ripped into the armor, and the Dragon was exposed. Seizing the opportunity to taste flesh once more, the beast lunged forward and knocked the Dragon onto its back. With a decisive second lunge the creature made for the hole in the armor with its mouth. The only thing it met was the red hot tip of the Scion, though. Learning from his first blow, the Dragon kept the pressure on and forced the blade down the monster's throat past its teeth. A fount of blood spilled out of its throat along with a gurgling shriek of pain and the Red Fang cowered back away from the blade, fear appearing in its eyes for the first time.

The fight wasn't over just yet, though, and before the Dragon could launch a second assault the creature unexpectedly turned sharply to the left and made for the bodies of Biggs and Wedge. It would not go down without killing at least one of its targets. The Dragon saw the creature turn and run towards his defenseless allies, and could only think of one thing to do. The wolf sped away with incredible agility, but the Dragon managed to sink his sword deep into the creatures hind quarter just in time to be yanked forward and dragged behind the retreating foe. He struggled to mount the fearsome steed in order to try and steer it away from his friends, but the painful wounds were driving the creature into a frenzy. The Dragon made one more attempt to climb onto the creature's back, and just barely grasped a thick clump of filthy red hair before being thrown down again. He pulled with all his might and swung himself on top of the Red Fang's back, then quickly placed the back of his blade against the bottom of its lower jaw and pulled back as hard as he could. The maddened beast's head gave a painful jerk upwards and then it stumbled and fell, both rider and steed tumbling together just inches from the bodies of Biggs and Wedge.

The Dragon was the first on his feet, and raised his sword to deliver the finishing blow to this defilement of nature. Before he could bring the blade to the creature's already injured neck, it shuddered and leaped to its feet, a look of pure hatred in its eyes now. Why wouldn't this accursed thing fall to its bite? How could such strength come from such a small form? Why was it losing?

The creature made one last drastic lunge at its hated enemy, focusing every ounce of its strength into a bite that would rip even the Dragon's armor to shreds. The Dragon barely had time to react to the rush, and swung his body to the side just in time. The beast's fangs grazed the armor and the Dragon felt a searing pain as a strip of armor and flesh was ripped from his body. The creature had managed to wound his foe after all, and soon he would fall to the Red Fang's poisonous taint. The victory was short-lived, however. The foolish creature had left itself exposed after that desperate move, and the Dragon took full advantage of its moment of weakness. As soon as the wolf's mighty form had passed him, the Dragon struck out and let his blade fly at its unprotected legs. With one clean slice both hind legs of the creature were cut from beneath it and it tumbled to the ground for the last time.

The Dragon could already feel the dizzying effects of the poison overpowering him, and he knew it would not be long before he succumbed. He must finish the beast now and hope that the trackers would simply take him and his friends to their base until they awakened. With quickly fading senses the Dragon raised his blade once more to the beast and this time there was nothing to stop the inevitable doom that awaited it. The creature looked up at the approaching death strike with a piteous glare, stunned that it could be bested by a single small foe. With one last whimper the blade met the beast and for a single sickening moment both were one. It was over.

The Dragon's job complete, he struggled to pull his blade from the beast, but was too weak. With one last cry, barely above a whisper, he fell to the ground, and joined his fellow warriors in an uneasy sleep filled with poison-soaked nightmares.

"Maria..."