Lasair

    Amidst the rocks and raging water I stand and wait. I wait for Maol's most formidable servant Lasair - a powerful spirit in the form of a wingless dragon of fire. Spawn from the pits of hell by the Dark Lord Maol himself, it has been released from the Black Land with cunning and wrath to spread fear and death across the land of my people.

     I stagger up from the chasm to stare at the transforming horizon. Fire scorched trees send up suffocating smoke as the dragon cuts a swath through the land. What was once green is now black. A cruel metaphor for my life, for the sardonic Maol has cursed me, manipulating me into despair and torment. I once dared to resist him by admonishing his evil. For that my lover is held captive by Maol's evil will and is forced to watch my misery. As the caustic smoke floats nearer my lover's anguish travels with it and saddens my heart. Disillusioned, I climb back down the chasm and wait for Lasair.

    Ahead of the dragon Maol extends his power over the land like an evil breath. A sentient vapor, permeating air, breath, and soul, carries disturbing and taunting whispers. This malevolent air freezes me, and covers me...like a cloak. I feel like a tree rooted to the center of the earth. A statue of sadness and despair, I am now a captive of darkness. I scream internally as I try to hold on to the fading light of my memories. But the memory of soft rain turns into a raging hailstorm. A field of wildflowers becomes burnt ashes. My lover's tenderness turns to twisted hate; a convoluted and perverse reality. I must fight Maol's deceit. I must kill the dragon.

     As my spirit suffocates under the oppressive blackness I draw in a breath of hope. Can I break his spell? Will I be able to act when the time comes? Anguish turns to hatred, hate turns into strength. I lift my sword, ready to kill. A blast of hot foul air assaults my face. The wind plays chaotic music in my ears. The dragon approaches. Death is coming - death for Lasair!