The Trial

He did not know how long he had been standing there, alone, staring at the carnage he had caused. When he looked up at the bluff above the lake to the southeast, he could see the shadows rising up the face of the cliff as the sun began setting in the west. Only then did he realize that he had been standing there for hours. He finally shook the bitter thoughts from his mind, walked to the lake's edge, and dipped his blade in the water. He walked to a nearby stand of tulip poplar trees, pulled a few of the large leaves from one, and wiped his blade clean before sheathing it, then turned to head off to the wood again.

He smelled the scent of wisteria, and treasured the sweet fragrance of the vine. He thought he heard his heart beating with a steady thump-thump-thump, and it nearly stopped as he heard the quiet thunder, and felt the tremor of a tremendous creature landing on the ground behind him. He stopped short of the wood, closed his eyes, and said a silent prayer to his god to take his soul. He drew his sword slowly as he turned on his heels.

He had expected to find the mate of the dead wyvern preparing to shred him like paper. Instead, he saw the claws of a beast larger than any he had ever seen with his own eyes before. The creature was a dark, golden brown, and stood on four legs, not two like the wyvern. Its wings were folded over its back in a relaxed posture. It knew it could have him at any time if it so desired, and the human was little threat to it. The warden raised his head slowly as he looked up to the head of the beast.

Huge, almond shaped eyes were looking down on the warden, but they did not look upon him threateningly. Its elongated neck was curved almost to a question mark, and with its head cocked down toward him, had much the same posture as that of a swan. To the warden though, it was no swan; it was an immense, deadly creature to behold.

The bronze dragon considered the warden for a moment in silence, while the warden weighed his options. There were none. The dragon spoke to the warden's mind, 'Would you kill me as readily as you did the wyvern?'

The voice confused the warden; he heard the dragon speaking, but its mouth had not moved. The sound seemed to come from inside his head. He had always heard dragons could do this, but the reality of meeting a dragon face to face for the very first time was more than quite a shock to his reasoning, and to his senses. He recognized what was happening to him; his mind was racing, and he thought about running, but his legs would not move even if he tried. It was dragon fear!

He became painfully aware of his drawn sword. He tried to sheathe it quickly, but his arm would only move slowly, and very shakily. He did not reply to the dragon's query.

'I witnessed your actions from the cliff against the wyvern', the dragon continued silently, slowly. The voice seemed to echo inside his mind, 'and I would like to know if you would be so willing to kill me as you killed her?'

This time he realized it was the soft, delicate voice of a woman in his head. He wondered if this is what the dragon really sounded like, or was it? She... just trying to calm him with a beautiful voice perhaps? The warden stood a little straighter and managed to speak in an unsteady voice.

'No.' he said simply.

'You wouldn't?' she questioned skeptically.

He gathered his nerves and answered with as much conviction as he ever had, 'I wouldn't, because you are of good heart and noble sprit. You would not have attacked the child.'

She continued her questioning, 'The wyvern was hungry. Do you not kill to feed yourself and your family?'

'Yes, I do,' the warden replied, 'and that I killed the unborn young of the beast gives me no pleasure, but I had to save the life of the child. It was my only choice as I saw it at the time.'

The dragon lowered her long neck, bringing her head closer to the human. 'Do you not kill those of the Orcan races'

He sighed in resignation, and lowered his head. 'I have and I do,' the warden said solemnly, and after a moment's contemplation, regained his conviction. 'But only because they commit acts of evil toward mine, and other races. They commit acts such as pillaging, murder, and torture; brutalities the likes of which would make even an ancient one such as you cringe in horror.'

The dragon considered the warden for a long moment. Then, moving her head to within feet of the warden's face, she tilted her head for one huge glowing amber eye to look directly at his. Her voice softened, and as if seeking to find the answer to an age-old mystery, rather than to accuse him of any wrong, she asked, 'Then why did you save the life of a child of that race? Was it because one of his parents was human?'

He shook his head, and did not back away from the monstrous head, with its eye staring at him, 'No, it wasn't that at all.' Then he looked at the ground, 'It was because he was a child, just a child.'

The dragon drew her head back. She pondered this for a while, and kept the gaze of her almond eyes upon him. The warden thought he was safe for now, but even a good dragon might kill a warden if she truly believed he had committed an act of evil.

The dragon had one last question for the warden to consider, 'Had you known the wyvern was with young, would you have defended the child still?'

He mulled the question over in his mind for a short time, and did not immediately answer. He was not exactly sure what he might have done. Then his mind brought back the vision of the half-orc lad reaching for his toy.

'Yes, I would have, but I think I would have tried to do more to get away, and not stand and fight.' He thought for a moment, and continued, 'I might have hesitated as well, and then the lad would have been killed. And likely, either the wyvern or I too would be dead; perhaps we all would have suffered mortal wounds. It was just a stroke of luck that I made it to the child at the precise moment to save him.'

'A stroke of luck? Not so for the wyvern.' The dragon noted.

'No, I know.' The warden lowered his head again. 'For the child.'

With tender eyes the dragon kept her gaze upon the warden, considering the answers he had given to her questions. Satisfied that he was not evil, and that he acted only in defense of the lad, and subsequently of himself, she would let him live. Indeed, she even admired him for his actions, for his lament of the unborn and its mother, and for his honor.

'Well, noble one,' she began, 'You may not have acted wisely today, but I trust you have done so of kind heart. You should go now. I do not believe, once the orc leaders hear the child's story, that they will believe you to truly be his benefactor. They are a grim and stubborn race, and not likely to believe the rantings of a child, and especially a half-breed child.' She sniffed the air then shot a glance at the wood. 'They come now! There's no time!'

The ancient dragon took hold of the warden, spread her massive wings, and with her hind legs, gave a powerful push into the air. With practiced ease, she held him gently, but firmly, so he would neither fall from her grip, nor be injured during the flight. She lifted him up to the bluff from where he first spotted the wyvern, and set him down ever so gently in front of the same white oak from behind which he sprang in defense of the half-orc lad.

She softly touched a razor sharp talon to the warden's arm. The area around the gash glowed, and the light in the wood became intense. Then it was gone, leaving only glowing faerie dust floating to the ground, and a jagged scar from where blood had flowed moments ago.

'Take ye care, noble one, and live well while you can. Ones such as you tend not to see the light of many days.' She smiled a dragon's smile at him, which was not altogether comforting to the warden, and flew off in a flourish of beating wings and whipping wind, kicking the dust up into his eyes. He rubbed his eyes clear, and watched through the trees as long as he could, until she was just a dot in the setting sun, and then she was gone.