Will of the Gods

Five days. It had been five days since Armond crossed into the great desert. Each day was hotter than the last as the sand seemed to stretch on forever. But when the Gods give you a calling, it cannot be denied. His feet dragged like granite as the last drop of moisture in him dripped down his nose. As it patted down on the sand, so too did Armond fall, collapsed at his last step in this barren wasteland. As his vision faded, he felt that this was his final calling. After a lifetime of defending his people from goblins, orcs and worse, he was being called to return to the gods.

In the darkness, he could swear he heard a distant voice. It was indiscernable but light and fair like a young maiden. Armond tried to move but he felt a great weight upon him. His eyes slowly opened and before his vision came to clarity, he began to make out a scaled creature with a long, pointed maw and great horns. “Dragon-!?” He blurted as he tried to struggle, feeling that great weight begin to cascade off of him.

“A dragon?” The sweet voice mused. “You’re quite the flatterer, aren’t you?”

It took a moment to realize that sweet voice was coming from the maw before him and as he tried to sit up, he found he was half-burried in sand and the sun had long since fallen. He also found that even sitting, he was taller than the thing before him. “Who… no, what are you?”

“Your guide,” the small, scaled girl replied. “The spirits have called me, just as they have called you. We were destined to meet here at this time to enact their will.”

Armond brought a hand to his head. It was throbbing in pain and every joint felt like stones grinding against stones. “The spirits? It was my Gods that called me here. And just what is it your spirits called you here for?”

“Spirits and Gods do not work that way,” she replied, stepping forward to help Armond stand. “But if we are open to them, we will soon find what they intend for us. But first, we must get you back on your feet. Come with me. There is water at my shelter.”

-TB