A primordial world, savage and feral. The ochre sky hung thick and oppressive with the promise of rain. Swirls of soot and ash drifted past.
A gravel path led up the mountain. The man climbed the mountain. His destiny lay at the top.
Sweat covered his thick corded muscles, darkened from exposure to the elements. His muscles bulged beneath black chain link armor. Grit from his long journey coated his hard body. His exposed flesh was crossed with scars. On his right shoulder the flesh had been badly burned.
His chiseled face was handsome and hard. His steely eyes had seen much. He wore a black helmet. Spiked at the top, white horns protruding from each side like tusks.
He carried a spear that currently served as a walking stick, encumbered as he was with a sword and bow, a shield strapped to his back and a knife stuck into his boot. He made slow progress as he picked his way across the broken granite slope.
The man had arrived at the foot of the mountain on horseback but left the animal at the base when he began the climb. This was no place for the skittish creature. It would have been terrified in this hellish environment and made his quest more difficult than it already was.
After a climb of long hours, he reached a granite shelf in the side of the mountain. A sheer cliff topped with a flat ledge. Strapping his spear on his pack, he began to climb. Thick muscles strained as he hauled himself and his weapons up the crumbling surface.
As he climbed he recited his mantra. Three words. Silk. Ivory. Sky.
He repeated them over and over. Each word had a special meaning to him. Each word a previous quest.
At the top of the sheer wall of rock he paused to catch his breath. The ash in the air made it nearly impossible to breath. He removed his helmet and wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his gloved hand. He unscrewed his water skin and took a long drink.
He sat with his legs dangling over the side of the cliff and thought about his past missions.
The spear he carried, with its long sturdy shaft and ornately carved head, was called a yari and it had been a gift given to him on a quest beyond the Burning Sands.
Silk.
He thought of his burnt shoulder. The wrinkled mass of scar tissue, healed over the years, but never completely recovered. He will carry that scar the rest of his life.
Ivory.
And his latest adventure. The first moments of that battle had been epic. When he eventually won, it wasn't what he had been expecting.
Sky.
Each scar, each wound, each gift, was a badge that he wore with pride. Each one represented a hard fought victory. And he thought about his own name. Jagatai. He hoped his name would be remembered for all time. It would blaze through history, forever coupled with his incredible quest.
He took a length of dried meat from his pouch and ate. He needed to keep his strength up. It would take everything he had when he reached the top. Then he resumed his march.
*
At the mouth of the cave Jagatai paused. Beyond was a black maw that seemed to suck in all light and gave nothing in return. It was the darkness of the grave. He stood there a long time listening for any sign of what he hoped lay inside.
Jagatai crossed the mouth of the cave. Darkness blinded him. Slowly his eyes adjusted and he was able to make out some details. The cave was enormous. Roughly circular, with a low ceiling and a rise in back as the cave pushed deeper into the mountainside.
Past the mouth were carcasses of various animals. Horses. Deer. Sheep. All the flesh stripped away. There was an overturned bulk of a wagon and even the hull of a sailing ship. The keel cracked, debris littered the ground.
Jagatai saw treasure in the debris. Gold pieces. Gems. Even books. But he also saw corpses in the wreckage. Skeletal figures still wrapped in shredded leather and bits of steel armor. Some had weapons, most did not. The grey bones crumbled to dust as he walked through.
There was a tension in the air that was palpable.
Jagatai crouched low and advanced deeper into the chamber, breath coming ragged and deep, heart slamming against his ribcage. This was what he lived for.
Shrouded in shadows at the back of the cave slumbered an enormous dragon. She must have been forty feet long from head to tail. Razor sharp claws. Pointed snout with teeth like swords. An impenetrable armor of red scales covered her massive body. In the darkness the scales were the color of dried blood.
Her tail twitched lazily back and forth. Even in rest, this female radiated power. This was a goddess incarnate. A titan of destruction. This was power beyond anything he could imagine.
Jagatai's member grew hard under his armor.
As he advanced he unslung his shield, tucked his spear under his shoulder.
Before he reached the creature, he had the misfortune of stepping on a loose stone. It skittered away from him and smacked into some irregularity in the floor.
She woke. One large red eye focused on him. In that moment she knew he was here for her. A roar filled the chamber, deafened him. Stones rattled on the floor. The walls vibrated from the concussive force.
Her head pulled back. She drew up to her full height, eyes locked on the intruder. She wasted no time. She lunged. Claws slashed at him, intending to put a quick end to this nuisance.
Jagatai knew what to expect. He jumped back, but he was not as fast as she, not by a long shot. Her claws raked across his armor. His spear was smashed into kindling. He tossed the splinters aside and braced his shield.
He knew what came next. Everyone knew what was next.
The dragon drew a deep breath.
Jagatai did the same. Shut his eyes.
Flame blasted against his shield. The kinetic force pushed him back, nearly knocking him over. If that had happened, he would have been killed instantly. But he stood his ground, shaky but firm.
The heat splashed over him. The flames licked the edges of his shield. Metal grew red hot in his hands. Only the leather strap protected his arm from being completely incinerated.
Then, just as suddenly as it started, the flame dissipated, leaving behind a ringing in his ears and circles of light in his vision.
Jagatai tossed his shield aside. He drew his blade and charged the monster. She was spent, clearly not expecting an attack. This human was unlike any other she had encountered.
With a roar of his own, he ran straight at her head, which was still level with him after the blast of flame.
He muscles bulged. He swung his sword, throwing his whole weight into this one strike. The steel connected with the tip of her snout. And ricocheted off. The shock reverberated up his arm, nearly tearing his arm from the socket. He grunted. Endured the pain.
The dragon blinked. The blow only a glancing one, but the surprise caught her off guard. She shook her head and pulled her head back. "How dare you?" Her voice thundered. "You cannot possibly harm me."
Gasping, Jagatai pulled his helmet off and tossed it aside. His shaggy hair plastered to his neck. He stank of sweat. "You are right, Great One," he called out. His voice didn't waver. "I could never hope to defeat a dragon in combat." After catching her attention with the attack, he followed with flattery. "I am here to parley."
She snorted. A blast of hot air hit him in the face. Her head turned away. Even a man as audacious as this didn't merit her attention.
"I survived your flame attack," he continued confidently. "Now give me another challenge."
That intrigued her. She turned back to face the hulking human that was still barely a morsel to her. "What kind of challenge could your puny body endure, Little One?"
He didn't rise to the bait. Instead he said, "Poetry."
