The Oath

The Dragon watched them approach. They would see her soon, finish the job that had others had started. A sharp pain filled her, as if to taunt her. Sheer force of will eased it, but it wouldn't heal.

“Sheath your swords.” The leader ordered. “You're wounded. I can help.”

“Why not just kill me and be done with it?”

“I'm not in the mood.....I'm called Moonhawk by the way. You?”

“Desada.” It wasn't her true name, but it was one she was willing to have them call her. Her eyes were drawn to a bracelet on the leader's, the Elf's, wrist.

“A gift.” Moon said.

Desada nodded, there was no other way to get one, even if someone had access to the hairs it was impossible to do anything with them.

“You serve Mavour. Why does your wound not heal?”

“It is her. I tried. The wound grew deeper, the pain more extreme.”

“Astme.” Moon called.

A youth, barely fifteen human years, stepped forward. Like the Elf, he showed no fear.

“What price?”

“I'd like to know who did this, at the very least were to find them, their weapons threaten us all. I have witnessed what effects it can have on those that follow our way.”

Heat filled Desada, a soothing heat, she felt the pain drift... not just fade as when she willed it, but go.

“No charge.” The young man said, looking at Moon.

“You are right, little one, if we can we should.” Moon said. Images flooded her mind. Faces, and more importantly, places. She nodded. “Thanks.”

“I wish I wasn't bound by oath.”

“I'm glad you are. Go to your isle and rest. I hope we never need call on you.” Moon said.”If we do, this war will be truly global.”