Buried unconscious, the town awaits its awakening and trial. Two hundred years and still we work on it. I’m the only one left from then and the desire is almost dead. Even in me.
I stand in the empty memorial square, the fire from the dragon beneath burning before me. I think of those who died as my spells failed.
My work can be done from afar, I haven’t seen the dragon since they built over it. Today, feeling wistful enough, I finally descended.
It had been magnificent in its fearfulness when it fell. It seemed small now. Its scales had mostly fallen, its sides were swollen, red. Eyes that had blazed now glazed shut, lashes alive with parasites. Its talons were cracked, blunt or shed. And the pipe that took its breath away to burn for our sense of justice..
I saw only pain, my anger at what it had done finally fading from my heart.
My hand opened and I produced a long lance, pushed it deep into the creature’s chest, stopped its movement forever.
Free myself now, I left the town to further forget what we had done. Would they even notice the flame’s death?
Written for Flash! Friday from the following picture prompt (we were also asked to add a Fire Element (include an act of justice) or Ice Element (include a act of mercy)) and had a word count limit of 190-199 Words.
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