I caught my breath, the effort of simply standing enough to leave me dizzy and sick. I was certain that the wound to my head was compounding the illness that swept over me. Once the sensation passed, I unfurled my wings and took a tentative flap. I was sore and stiffened, but my wings still worked and I could only hope they would carry me to some sort of shelter in which I could … what? Wait to die?
I took flight. The blood began to flow from my newly-opened wound but I could not stop now; I was afraid I might not be able to muster the strength to fly again. Before heading away from the scene of our battle, I hovered over the edge of the cliff and searched with my eyes the rocks far below. While in my human form I would never have been able to make out the broken and twisted form of Arthur, splayed out on the jagged rocks. But as a dragon my eyesight was many times stronger, and I felt a deep sense of relief to see for myself that the evil being who had killed so many in his quest for vengeance had met his final end.
I flew away, slowly, only moving my wings enough to keep me airborne. I cried out many times, involuntarily, pain ripping the noises from my throat.
Only one thought kept me moving: The fact that I had felt, with utter certainty, Anabelle's eyes opening. I knew that the moment Arthur fell she awakened. I no longer heard her in my mind; I wondered if our connection only existed while she was trapped in her frozen sleep. Somehow she had reached out to me and, as she had so many times already over the course of our tragically short union , she saved me. She guided me with her wisdom and together we had defeated that evil force that had held power over these lands for so many centuries. I wished that I could thank her for everything she had done.
My wings were beating more slowly, each movement agony. I felt the blood leaving me, felt the life draining from me. The wound across my midsection was gaping open and throbbed with every breath I took. I had to find shelter, and quickly. I couldn't fly for much longer.
I looked around, frantically searching for a secluded place in which to rest. I was losing altitude quickly, no matter how hard I fought to stay high above the peaks of the mountains. But that helped me, as it turned out, for I saw a cave carved out of one of those very mountains. Had I been flying much higher I would never have seen it. I hoped that there was nothing dangerous hiding there, for I had no choice but to take shelter within.
I had hoped that once I landed, I'd no longer be in such pain. But my hopes were for naught, for the pain tore through me with every beat of my weakening heart. I could not hold back my cries of anguish, so great was the agony in which I found myself.
My only hope, the only thing which kept my sanity intact, was the thought of my child and my mate. They were both safe now, as was my brother. They could carry on the blood line; now that Arthur was no more, the dragons could once again reign the land. Any pain I felt was nothing in comparison to that knowledge.
The dragon side of me was weakening, and allowing these human thoughts to take the forefront of my consciousness. I had never thought so clearly as a human while in my dragon form.
I thought about my father, and how I had avenged him. I hoped that his soul now rested easy in the knowledge that his murderer had been vanquished. I thought of my mother, and hoped that she would impart the same strength and wisdom upon my son as she had upon me. I didn't envy Anabelle the task of raising a Celtic dragon alone, without male guidance.
But she wouldn't be alone, not really. Along with my mother would be Morgan, a far wiser man than I had ever hoped to be. Whether he wanted to or not, he would sit the throne until my child came of age. I knew that he had every quality necessary in a great leader, and a great dragon.
I cried out again as the pain swept through me. I saw my blood spilling out onto the stone floor on which I now rested, and heard my cries echo off the walls and into the air outside the mouth of the cave. I felt cold, for the first time in my life, the blood within me cooling. I was dying.
Again I cried out, both out of the physical pain I was suffering and the pain in my spirit. I wished I could be there to see my son grow, to impart on him the same lessons my father had imparted upon me. I wished I could hold my Anabelle in my arms again. I wished I could at least have the chance to say goodbye.
I hoped that I had been a good King. I hoped that I had cleared the way for generations of dragons to come.
I felt my consciousness fading, rapidly. I cried out once more, weakly this time.
When the echo faded and I was certain that I was but a moment away from breathing my last, I heard what sounded like the beating of wings. For one brief, insane moment I feared that it was Arthur. I feared that I hadn't finished the job after all and that he had come back to taunt me in my final moments.
But it wasn't Arthur. It was Morgan.
And on his back was Anabelle.
Even in my agony and dimmed consciousness, I was overjoyed to see her again. To have the proof that my mate had survived. That my sacrifice hadn't been in vain.
"My love!" she cried, and sank to her knees beside me. She laid her head on my breast and heard the weak, failing beat of my heart. "No," she said. "You will not leave me."
The certainty of her words warmed me, even as I grew colder. I looked upon her once more, and wished that I could touch her and tell her I how I had loved her. How had made me a better man and King.
I saw her raise her hands before her and tilt her head back.
I closed my eyes and accepted my fate.
Then … I felt a small spark of warmth flicker within me. Instead of crossing over to the next world, I still felt the stone floor beneath me and heard the dripping of water from deep within the cave. The wound across my stomach burned like fire, and if I'd had more strength I would have screamed. All I could do was whimper.
I could easily feel every bruise and contusion on my body, only they didn't throb with the same intensity they had moments earlier. My broken leg twitched of its own accord, and through the haze of anguish I felt the bones knit themselves together.
The wound to my head no longer burned and ached the way it had before. I no longer felt blood dripping down my head, no longer felt the throbbing where it had struck the ground.
The most severe wound of all had been the one to my stomach, which still burned and sizzled as it stitched itself closed.
Finally the pain eased, then ceased entirely. I felt the beating of my heart grow stronger; it still was not as strong as it had been prior to my battle with Arthur, but it was far stronger than it had been a mere moment earlier.
I opened my eyes and once again saw my love before me. She lowered her arms and placed her head against my chest once again. She looked up into my eyes and smiled, tears spilling down her cheeks.
She looked at Morgan, who waited against one of the cave walls. "His heartbeat is much stronger," she told him. I sensed the relief coming from him.
"My love," she said, "do you feel strong enough to shift?"
I nodded my head. I had to speak to her, to touch her no matter the toll it took on my strength. I closed my eyes and willed the shift back to my human form.
"Anabelle," I finally whispered hoarsely. "You're awake."
"Yes, my King," she whispered in return. "And so are you."
I lifted my hand slowly, hardly able to move from weakness. I touched it to her belly. "The child?" I asked.
She nodded, beaming with joy. "Yes, love, the child lives within me. We are both safe."
"You … healed me," I said, feeling confused. "How did you do it?"
"Let's save all explanation for when we get you home and comfortable," she suggested. "Your mother is near frantic with worry, and the rest of the kingdom is as well. They'll all be overjoyed to know you're alive and well."
My brother picked me up and held me to his chest and gently as he could, I knew. I patted him to reassure him that I was all right and he hadn't harmed me. Anabelle once again climbed onto his back; we also needed to discuss her new adeptness at dragon riding when we returned home. It seemed as though we had quite a great deal of catching up to do, in fact.
Morgan walked to the mouth of the cave and took to the sky. I decided to enjoy the feeling of flight from this new vantage point. I was simply glad to still be alive, thanks to Anabelle.
As we approached, I heard cheers rising up from the ground as the residents of County Cork saw Morgan flying high above. I could see the castle looming up as we grew closer, and I saw the small figure of Rhiannon waiting for us. We slowed our speed, and Morgan hovered above the balcony before gently landing. Anabelle sprang lightly from Morgan's back; I saw her and Rhiannon embrace joyfully.
Morgan carried me to the bed and laid me down before shifting back to his human form. I watched him, fondly, as he pulled a dressing gown over his shoulders. I held out my hand to him, and he clasped it in his own. We needed no words, it seemed; we were as able to pick up on the other's feelings in our human form as we were after shifting.