An Old Friend Named Bullseye

Dalmani’s squad was pushed so far back, he bumped into the archers who were supposed to be holding the line on the opposite side of the hill. They probably had been pushed up the hill as well.

As the steel on his back met the leather of another, he spun around to see if the enemy had advanced behind him.

He was met with a pleasant surprise, however, as he made eye contact with one of his oldest friends, Merellie. 

Merellie is a great archer, one of the army's best. The man is practically born to hold a bow in his hands, and is gifted with eyes that could rival a dragon’s. 

Dalmani roared with excitement. “Merielle, I didn’t know you were here! Help us out with these imbeciles. A good arrow between the eyes should provide some assistance to their retreat!”

His friend scowled at the multiplying forces against them. “You know, I’m not supposed to be here.” Merrielle said, like he was a frustrated teacher explaining a simple equation. 

“I know!” Dalmani replied, “Still, I welcome the company.” He spun back around and thrusted his sword out, hitting an approaching soldier foolishly charging him.

Usually the younger soldiers saw Dalmani as an opportunity, a chance to earn riches and glory beyond imagination. 

The experienced soldier saw him only as an opportunity for death. 

“Forward, men!” Dalmani ordered, “They are the fools, for they have given us the high ground! Break their spears, chip their swords, shatter their armor and steal the life from their eyes!” He raised his sword. “For the king and his glory!”

The men roared so loud it startled the enemy, and Dalmani’s soldiers charged forward with a newfound determination, for they were reminded why they fight on this day.

Merellie let a smirk sneak its way onto his lips, “It seems your years have not taken the ability to motivate, my friend.”

“Of course not!” Dalamin said without looking back, maintaining his gaze on the enemy ahead. “Age is not yet strong enough to defeat me. Now cover my advance!” 

The enemy merely held only numbers to their advantage, their formations were weak and morale was boosted by only the amount of bodies moving forward. With a strong formation, which Dalmani’s men were exceptional at, this battle can be won before the day's end. 

But somewhere in that swarm of soldiers, was a man rumored to be the strongest in their kingdom. Dalmani wanted to test that very badly. It would also tank the morale of the enemy, but that motivation was much less desirable when compared to the previous one Dalmani held.

The commander rushed for the biggest soldier on the foothills. He’d let his men handle the fodder, the battlefield was a stage, and it deserved to see a real show. Dalmani would always be glad to accept the role of lead performer.

“Selfish brute, I’ve got my own side to worry about too.” But though he complained, Merellie watched for soldiers seeking a fight with Dalmani and took them out one by one as they left themselves vulnerable in their approach. 

Dalmani reached the hulking mass of armor that was supposedly a human, and their strongest one at that. 

He looked up at the “man” and snorted, “I heard you’re pretty good.” He smiled, “They say the same about me.”

The mass of armor grunted as a ring of soldiers began forming on the foothill. The Mass carried a bright, silver axe. It was simple with a wooden shaft and only one axe blade. Though in his hands, it looked anything but simple.

Dalmani took a couple steps back to give The Mass some room to think about what to do. He couldn’t even see his eyes through the slit in his helmet. He gave off the feel of an untamed beast, let loose of its chains only when he had an axe in his hands, and steel on his back. 

That was reflected in the way he attacked as well, as the beast rushed Dalmani with his axe low to the ground. When he got near, he swung the axe up as to cleave Dalmani’s body in two. 

Dalmani stepped to the side and let the axe narrowly pass his body, the wind rippling his hair. 

The Mass was fast for his size, however, as he spun the axe in his hands and brought it back down into the ground, causing it to erupt as chunks of dirt and grass went everywhere. 

Dalmani swiftly spun his body and leaped behind The Mass and angled his sword as if it was a needle and thrusted it into the open spot of his armor. The sword went right through the spot where the armor opened behind the knee and The Mass bellowed with a rage. 

Anger decided his next move as the beast swung his axe with all his body weight, carrying it in an arc behind him. Dalmani dropped to the ground and placed his chest against the ground.

He did not stay there for long as the beast was obvious with his next move. He brought the axe down to where Dalmani was laying on the ground, but he was fast enough to roll out of the way and jump back up.

“Making an aging man crouch and jump so quickly, you really are as cruel as they say.” Dalmani said, purposely antagonizing the beast even more. 

As planned, he bellowed and charged, axe raised to the sky. Sure, he was fast for his size, and that size was imposing, but Dalmani was not one to let something so superficial intimidate him. And strength is nothing without the means to wield it properly. 

The Mass brought his axe down to meet Dalmani’s skull. But his power brought him down as well when the axe hit the ground, using its weight to bring the wielder to his knee. Dalmani was close enough to use this as an opportunity. He grabbed The Mass by the neck and swung his body around to where he was now sitting on the shoulders of the beast. 

The beast roared as he stood back up, stumbling around trying to grab the man attached to him like a mosquito.

Dalmani was thankfully quick with his decision as he took his sword and drove it in between the eye slit and through the back of his skull, the point of the sword meeting the steel of Dalmani’s own armor, ending The Mass.

He fell to his knees once again, and this time did not get back up.

Soft gasps left the mouths of stunned soldiers. Dalmani’s men roared with excitement and pride as their leader hopped off the shoulders of the now slain legend. 

Dalmani turned toward the hill and raised his sword in a fist and said nothing. His men cheered even louder, but he truly meant the gesture for Merellie.

Beat that, old friend. He seemed to say. In their youth, they competed with each other all the time to see who had the greatest kill on the battlefield that day, but age eroded their desire for competition. Though Dalmani secretly enjoyed it, and hoped Merellie could draw the youth from the depths of his memory one more time. 

The enemy’s formations began to break. Merellie’s soldiers had successfully pushed back their side as well. They began to move backwards down both sides of the hill and onto the plains below, leaving an empty area of grass that was much more suitable for a battle than a hillside. This day had promised Dalmani and his men victory. Now all they had to do- 

A screech echoed throughout the sky. Dalmani roared with pain as he plugged his ears. Every soul on that field did the same as the screech reverberated inside their skull, like hitting an empty anvil with a hammer. 

Dalmani opened his eyes and looked to Merellie for confirmation. His friend nodded as they met their gaze across the hillside. They knew this sound. The pair had heard it only once before, and that was more than most soldiers, as they did not have the privilege to draw breath after.

A dragon had taken to the skies.

Dalmani looked up and saw it. It was dark red, like the color of blood. Its wings casted a shadow on the armies as it soared, seemingly blocking out the sun. 

It swooped down to the now empty plain and screeched again, causing many soldiers to fall to their knees. It had dark beady eyes that fixed on Dalmani as he stood in front of the dragon. 

In a swift decision, he grabbed the sword of his closest officer. He then pointed towards the enemy.

“Go!” he ordered, “Finish the job and win us this day.”

“But sir-” 

The officer did not finish his protest before the dragon roared and began to turn around, realizing the much more filling meal was behind him.

Dalmani looked at the officer and he nodded with understanding. Dalmani would see to the dragon. 

 The officer commanded the men to form a line with their sword and spearmen in front and archers to the back as they tried to box in the enemy. Dalmani grabbed a spear from a  fallen soldier and hefted it to the dragon while it was distracted by the movements of his men.

Dragons were covered in scales so hard that normal swords could do little to no damage. It usually took catapults, cannons, or other dragons to take them out. Dalmani had none.

There was one weak point, however, and that was a dragon's eyes. They had the best eyes in the kingdom, but even they were susceptible to a sword or spearhead. 

Dalmani tucked his second sword into his teeth and sheathed his own, and he lifted the spear and threw it at the dragon's eye.

He missed.

But, this was his plan. Getting the dragon's attention and pulling his gaze away from his men as they continued the battle was the top priority. This part of the plan worked, as the dragon roared and spun its head to face Dalmani. 

Dalmani took the sword from his mouth and the other one from its sheath and raised them above his head. He began to bang them together as he backed up the hillside to draw the dragon up there with him. 

Merellie watched this with an astonished understanding. Of course Dalmani would do something like this, but it didn’t take away from the spectacle of still trying to do it. 

Wait, Merellie thought, the bastards gonna have me help him kill it, isn’t he?

“Merellie!” Dalmani shouted, “Get that bow of yours ready!”

Damn him. “It’s always ready, you fool.” He knocked an arrow and aimed it at the massive beast. 

Dalmani continued to draw the dragon up the hill, keeping the rhythm of the clashing swords. It snorted and roared but Dalmani remained unfazed. He would not let a simple creature intimidate him. 

Once they were close enough, Merellie let loose an arrow from his bow, aiming for its left eye. The dragon swerved its head right at the last minute, deflecting the arrow off its scales.

Dalmani took this as an opportunity and ran beneath the neck of the dragon and towards its legs and slashed at both of them. As soon as he was out from under the dragon's stomach he spun around and, of course, saw that there was no damage dealt.

The creature ignored Dalmani’s futile attacks and turned toward Merellie, who was knocking another arrow. A pure steel arrow, strong enough to tear through any soldier’s armor, and hopefully capable of doing something against this beast.

But as the dragon faced the archer, he lowered his head and opened his mouth, when a red glow like sunlight through a ruby began to illuminate in its throat. 

Merellie froze. Uh oh.

Dalmani’s voice called from behind the dragon, “Dodge, fool!”

Merellie dropped the arrow and slung the bow over his back as he dived and began to roll his body down the hill. The dragon's flame narrowly missed the man.

As the archer recollected himself, Dalmani ran around to the front of the dragon. Though these beasts were mystical, they did have a little bit of knowledge about them. One main weakness of the dragon’s - aside from the vulnerability of their eyes - was that after breathing fire, it took one whole minute for the dragon to refresh and use its flames again. Dalmani figured he could use this to his advantage.

Which means every second counts.

He sheathed his sword and took another to his mouth, ran toward the snout, and hopped on, grappling the beast. 

50 seconds.

Merellie began to stand again and wasted no time in fishing for another arrow out of his supply strapped to his waist.

There were only two arrows left.

45 seconds.

No time to waste. He knocked one of the two arrows and fired,  once again aiming for the eye, but the dragon was whipping its body around furiously in response to Dalmani’s unconventional attack, and it redirected the arrow with its tail.

38 seconds. 

The dragon opened its mouth in an attempt to take a bite out of Dalmani, but he swung his legs into its mouth and let go of its snout, dropping him behind the set of teeth the dragon loved to flash. 

Dalmani unsheathed the sword and took the other out of his mouth and jammed one into its lower jaw and another sword into the upper jaw, forcibly prying open the dragon's mouth to keep it from closing down on him.

29 seconds.

Merellie knocked another arrow and let it loose. It went straight through the open jaw, directly past Dalmani’s forearm.

“Only a couple seconds left, Merellie!” He yelled, “Aim for the eyes!”

“I know that, brute!” He pointedly decided to leave out the fact that he had no arrows left. No point in potentially causing the man's will to falter. But there remained the problem of how to get Dalmani out of there. How could- 

There was an arrow on the ground. The one he dropped when he dodged the flames earlier.

20 seconds. 

Merellie ran as fast as he could. Dalmani roared with effort as he pried the dragon’s mouth open. Man, if only the king could see him now.

17 seconds.

Merellie reached the scorched grass and found the arrow, a steel arrow, one of his best. 

15 seconds.

He knocked the arrow and aimed. He pulled back as far as he could, giving it the most amount of strength the human arm could accomplish.

12 seconds. 

“Hurry! It’s getting warm in here!” Dalmani shouted. He didn’t have much time.

9 seconds. 

Merellie breathed in, and then out, steadying his aim. He waited.

7 seconds.

Dalmani roared again. 

6 seconds. 

Merellie opened one eye as the side of the dragon's head moved towards him. It’s eye focused on his arrow.

3 seconds.

The beast began to glow.

“There you are, old friend.” Whispered Merellie.

He let loose the arrow and it flew through the sky, hitting the dragon right through its eye. Into one, and out the other. 

The beast roared with pain and Dalmani seized the opportunity, removing both swords and stepping further into its mouth as he jammed both swords up through its skull and into the brain, killing it instantly.

The dragon dropped dead right on the field.

Dalmani rolled out from its mouth, soaked with saliva. Merellie approached the man.

They both took a seat together on the hill. The battle was won, their soldiers celebrating the victory down below. The enemies were retreating into the horizon. “I haven't seen a shot like that made in years.” Dalmani said.

Merellie maintained his gaze on the celebration. “Add it to my record.” He replied.

Dalmani raised an eyebrow. “Your record?” He exclaimed, “I delivered the killing strike, you selfish archer!”

“Which would not have been possible without my skill.” He answered.

Dalmani let out a sigh. “We’ll call this one a draw, then.”

“That,” Said Merellie, “is something I can agree to, my friend.”

Dalmani grunted in response. But truthfully, he was happy. He watched his men celebrate another victory. And victory was always best when it was won by the side of Merellie.