Jaci Dawn

Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness; And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God:     Ephesians 6:10-17 KJV

The world was on fire. Starmund stood, alone. on the battlefield. She held her short sword at her side. ready. No enemy came forth, however, and she was forced to retreat to avoid the flames and hot lava.

Coughing, she shielded her face with her sword arm as she picked her way through the scorched landscape. Here and there, she picked out the corpses of dragons or warriors. She averted her eyes, unwilling to see, afraid of what she might see – or who. The brush, trees, earth all smoked from the fires of the battle. Blackened boulders directed her steps out of the battlefield, back to the cave where not two days before, she had sheltered with her fellow warriors.

The cave was empty now. The fire ring, the sleeping pads, the dishes – scattered about in disarray. No one had stayed there, and Starmund felt her heart sink. Had even the serving people fled? Or worse. been destroyed? This place was supposed to be impenetrable by the dragons, and yet – There was a large print in the soft soil near the entrance, clear and undeniable: a dragon had been here.

She was stumbling now, hungry, thirty, exhausted. She found a flask of water that remained unspilt, and she drank of it. There was a loaf of bread on a shelf, and she broke into it, eating hungrily, unwilling to look at it for fear she might see signs of mold and, therefor, throw it away. She staggered through the cavern, looking under blankets, checking cots, seeking any survivors. But there were none.

And no bones or corpses.

She sat down on the lip of the cave and stared out into the distance. Fires still burned. Judging by the occasional puff of fire in the heavens, the dragons still flew. And someone still resisted them.

Finally, she cleaned out the largest fire pit of debris. The fire was long cold, but the ground was hollowed into the earth, and she could curl up in the depression to sleep. She needed to sleep.

She curled into it, fetal position, on her right side, with her sword held at ready in front of ther, and her shieled pulled down over the pit to cover her. She willed it to look like just another abandoned shield, prayed that her God would make the dragons blind to the shield and her human form underneath it. Slowly, breathing from her stomach, she drifted to sleep.

It was the loud thump of something heavy landing in the cave that awakened her. The ground vibrated. A second thump.

“I’m tired,” spoke a basso voice. “This cave seems safe enough.”

“Humans have been here. Recently.”

“Gone now.” The first voice seemed to be right on top of her. “I cannot smell any.”

“Huh.” the other voice huffed. “Then we rest here. I will sleep at the cave’s entrance. I do not trust these humans.”

“I will sleep here.”

The ground trembled, and Starmund  felt her shield shift in the darkness. She tensed before she pushed upward and was relieved to see she could let in a whiff of fresh air. Two dragons. One close. One in the cave entrance. She needed strength and wisdom.

*stop. I actually started this years ago, before my sister died. What are your thoughts on this brief example? I’m open. It was started as a project for my sister.