Chapter CXVII: Strategy
The Dragon King advanced with his army toward Rosehall, his presence an overwhelming force of nature. From atop his dragon, he surveyed the terrain with a cold, calculating gaze. The dragon's massive wings beat rhythmically, pushing them forward with incredible speed. The King would occasionally descend to the ground, his dragon landing amidst the army’s encampments.
As the army set up camp for the night, the air was thick with tension. Suddenly, the camp was thrown into a frenzy. Soldiers scrambled, shouting in alarm as they spotted a new threat. A dragon, unlike any they had seen, was flying towards them from the distance.
Panic erupted among the ranks. The sight of another dragon approaching threw the camp into disarray. The Dragon King, his keen eyes narrowing, took control of the situation. "Stay back!" he ordered, his voice cutting through the chaos. "It’s likely a wild dragon with no rider. That thing is dangerous. Maintain your positions!"
He watched as the unfamiliar dragon descended, landing a few miles away from their camp. Its massive form cast a long shadow over the ground, its fiery breath scorching the earth in its wake. The King’s curiosity was piqued, but he approached with caution, every instinct honed by a lifetime of taming dragons.
As he drew closer to the dragon, his heart pounded with a mix of apprehension and disbelief. The beast’s rider was obscured by the dragon’s bulk, but as the King neared, he could make out the rider’s silhouette. His breath caught in his throat, a shocking realization hitting him with the force of a thunderbolt.
It was Isabella.
The sight was almost surreal. The Dragon King, renowned for his unyielding demeanor, found himself momentarily frozen. Isabella, wearing a suit of armor that gleamed in the fading light, sat confidently atop the dragon, her posture regal and commanding. Her eyes locked onto his, fierce and resolute.
For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The Dragon King’s anger roiled within him, a tempest of fury and betrayal. And there was also confusion: how did she manage to do this?
Isabella dismounted her dragon with a graceful precision, her gaze never leaving the Dragon King. The tension between them was palpable, an electric charge that seemed to crackle through the air. Her defiant stance, her unwavering gaze, spoke of a resolve that both intrigued and infuriated him.
“What the hell is that?” he demanded, his voice trembling with fury.
Isabella, her demeanor calm and almost detached, simply replied, “A dragon.”
Her nonchalance ignited a blaze of wrath within the Dragon King. His face contorted with anger, his blood boiled at her casual sarcasm. “How the fuck are you riding it?” he roared, his voice echoing through the night air.
Isabella’s eyes, sharp and defiant, met his with an icy edge. “My mother was from the noble families of Old Theran, the first people to ever tame dragons. If you hadn’t been so dedicated to destroying my heritage and identity, you might have known that.”
The Dragon King’s expression darkened further, his eyes blazing with a combination of fury and incredulity. “You never wondered why your dragons were weirdly fond of me?” Isabella’s voice was almost mocking, her lips curling into a bitter smile.
“Where is my son?” the Dragon King’s voice was a low, menacing growl. His eyes searched Isabella’s face, desperation mingling with his rage.
Isabella’s gaze hardened. “Our son,” she corrected him. “He’s safe. Far from here.”
The King’s rage reached a fever pitch. “Where?” he demanded, his voice filled with a dangerous edge.
Isabella’s expression remained resolute. “He’s safe. That’s all that matters.”
The King, unable to contain his frustration, closed the distance between them. “Are you here to fight me?” he shouted, his voice echoing with a mix of anger and disbelief.
Isabella’s dragon, sensing the tension, advanced slightly, its massive wings unfurling with a menacing rustle. Isabella’s hand tightened on the reins, her stance unwavering. “No,” she said, her voice steady. “I’m here to offer you an opportunity to back off and resolve our issues diplomatically.”
The King’s eyes flared with rage. “Negotiate with you? You? You’re nothing but an entitled whore who took my son from me!” he bellowed, his voice breaking with raw emotion.
Isabella’s face flushed with anger. “I’m an entitled whore with an army and a dragon!” she shouted back. “So shut the fuck up and listen if you want to avoid more bloodshed!”
The Dragon King’s rage erupted in a violent surge by hearing her speak to him like that. “But I want bloodshed! I want to taste the blood of every motherfucker who dares to follow you against me!” His voice was a roar of primal fury.
Isabella’s voice cut through the tumult. “You chose this! I am a creation of your own lust, your thirst for blood, and your hunger for power!”
The King’s eyes bored into Isabella’s, a depth of pain and anger reflected in his gaze. “Don’t do this,” he said, his voice a low, trembling threat.
Isabella mounted her dragon once more, her movements deliberate and defiant. “If it’s blood you want, then you’ll taste your own,” she declared. With a final, piercing look at the Dragon King, she spurred her dragon into the air, the beast’s powerful wings sending a gust of wind that nearly knocked the King off balance.
As Isabella soared into the night sky, heading back to Rosehall, the Dragon King watched in stunned silence. In the distance, the Allendorian army advanced, not the other way around.
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