It happened just as Louis knew it would. Somebody pointed, somebody else yelled and the crowd descended into panic. They scrambled down the stairs towards the exits, tripping and trampling over each other. However, it was a few moments before Louis realised it was not he they were running from. The terrified glances they stole as they fled were not directed at the arena. Instead, they looked at something higher, behind Louis. He turned and saw it.
At the opposite side of the arena, perched atop the highest tier of the seats, was a monster. It was bigger than a house, with a long, sweeping tail and a powerfully muscular body. Its hide was coated in rough, black scales. Wide, leather wings stretched around it before folding neatly over its back. Its inquisitive head perched atop a long neck, grinning with teeth and eyes flashing gold. A number of pointed horns resembled a crown on its scalp and headed a row of long, pointed spines that ran down its neck, across its back and finishing at the very tip of its tail. The stone cracked under the grip of its claws. And though Louis was convinced his senses must be lying, though he tried to tell himself this creature could not be real, he knew its name.
Dragon.
Louis felt something move beneath him and realised he was still sat on the boy. He jumped off him and the boy immediately ran for the exit. Coward, muttered the orc.
Louis faced the dragon. It snapped at the heels of the fleeing people, enjoying their squeals of terror. Though they ran, they met a wall of people blocking the exits. The doors could not take everyone at once, though they tried to climb over each other. Some attempted to jump over the wall into the arena, only to crumple dead or wounded from the fall. The dragon roared happily and set a jet of flame across the trapped crowd.
As he watched the flames, Louis felt something else burn within him. He had to kill this thing. This wasn’t the bloodlust of the orc speaking. It was something far deeper. This creature was not supposed to exist. The world had to be put right and only Louis could do it. He could not allow it to prey on these humans, could not permit it to hunt in these lands. Though he had feared them only moments ago, he knew in his heart he was duty bound to protect the people of this city, of the world.
He ran. But the orc’s body, though strong, hung so heavy on him. With barely a thought, his dark body hair thickened into dark fur, his tusks retracted into sharp fangs, his flat nose grew out into a long snout. His body shrank, his fat vanishing, his muscles becoming neater and more compact. He barely noticed the loincloth slipping down his legs and off entirely. His balance shifted and he fell forwards. But by the time he outstretched his hands to stop his fall, they had become paws and they pushed the sandy earth under him, propelling him ahead with a burst of speed.
He was a wolf now. His sword harness still clung to his shoulders, loose but not slipping. He bore down on the dragon, who had not yet noticed him. Another burst of flame appeared over the seats. Then, Louis reached the edge of the arena, entered the tunnel and the dragon disappeared from view.
As he retraced his steps along the curved corridor, he could hear the screams of people echoing from ahead. Some of the other combatants had wandered out of their chambers, not knowing what was causing the noise. Louis darted between and around their legs, not pausing for an instant.
He reached the other end, emerged into the entrance tunnel and was met by a crowd of people hurrying for the street. Pointing himself in the other direction, he darted between their legs. But the closer he got to where he presumed the stairs were, the denser the crowd became, until it was almost impossible to proceed.
A foot swung out of nowhere and kicked him in the snout, knocking him backwards. Getting to his feet with a growl, he leapt up onto the nearest person, sprung off their chest and onto the shoulders of somebody else. Ignoring their cries, he hopped from person to person until he reached the stairs. It was a narrow stairwell stuffed full with more people than it was ever meant for. Louis continued in the same way, clambering upwards on top of the people until he burst into the sunlight.
The dragon was in his view again -it was difficult to miss. A huge tumult of people were surging for the stairs, while the dragon snapped and spit flames at those unfortunate enough to be at the edges. Louis continued hopping over the crowd, eyes locked on the monster.
‘Louis!’ said Warwick’s voice as he whizzed past, but there was no time to delay. He charged for the dragon. Then, upon reaching the edge of the crowd, he leapt upwards and let himself grow. Muscle surged through his body. His snout, tail and ears tucked away as his body swelled. His fur evaporated, letting him feel the rushing air against his bare skin. His paws became hands, his forelegs became muscular arms and he lifted one to his back to unsheath his sword.
SLASH! He struck the surprised dragon across the snout, bounced back and landed on two feet. The dragon recoiled, spattering blood across the white stone. The people nearest him hesitated, recognising the orc that had just appeared, now staring up at the dragon, bloody sword in hand, wearing nothing but the scabbard and harness.
This was not like the boy, Louis told himself. He may be a strong orc but this creature was far stronger. This was going to be a difficult fight.
The dragon, incensed, turned its golden eyes back on Louis. It opened its mouth to let out a plume of flames, but the orc was now a wolf again, dashing away from the inferno. Louis circled the dragon, leapt again and this time the naked orc landed upon the dragon’s back.
Louis experienced a moment’s vertigo from shrinking and growing so rapidly, but that was nothing compared to how the dragon bucked and beat its wings to dislodge him. Louis took hold of the spines to keep from being thrown. The dragon flapped harder and its feet left the ground. The orc was tempted, but Louis did not much fancy joining the dragon for a flight. He kicked against its flank, propelling himself toward the dragon’s head and aimed his sword for its furious eye.
There was a loud, unnatural screech of pain. The dragon thrashed its head wildly, sending Louis flying. As he twisted in the air, he shrunk back into the wolf, landing gently on his paws. His keen ears heard the sword clatter somewhere nearby.
The dragon was somewhere in the air, circling ahead, but Louis was scanning around for his sword. He saw it and galloped. But he could sense a shadow descending upon him, could feel the dragon looming behind. Louis leapt up the tiered levels of seats rapidly, but going uphill was slowing him down. The fur on his neck prickled. The dragon was right behind him. At last, he closed upon the sword.
He aimed his paw at his sword, but when it landed it became a meaty, green hand, his fingers closing around the grip. Feeling the dragon right on his literal tail, he turned the motion into a roll. As he planted his shoulder onto the stone, he felt the change carry up his front leg, turning it into a huge, beefy green arm. It continued into his back as he rolled onto it, wolf legs in the air, looking up at the gaping jaw of the dragon, merely feet away. He raised the sword, aiming carefully and planted his canine legs on the stone. Then as muscle and length surged into them, he was propelled upward just as the dragon came down. His sword thrust into its mouth, through the roof of its throat and into its brain.
The next second, Louis was knocked backwards as the dragon crashed into him. He let go of the sword, jumped and landed on his feet, skidding across the stone. The dragon came to a halt nearby. Louis panted as he watched, waiting for it to move.
It didn’t. At least, not visibly. But Louis watched it get to his feet. In his mind’s eye, he saw it look mournfully at the sky, afraid and sad. But then it turned its golden eyes to its new master and approached Louis. Louis felt the wind, saw dark clouds over fiery sunset. He saw snow covered rocks and jagged mountains, but not like any that existed in the real world. He felt fire in his belly and the yearning to be free.
The hallucinations vanished and Louis got to his feet. ‘Warwick?’ he called, turning to the crowd behind him. He’d almost forgotten they were there. Again, they were watching him with stunned silence.
After his moment of triumph, Louis was suddenly afraid again. Without meaning to, he felt himself shrink, not into a wolf this time, but back into a human. Within seconds, he stood before the crowd, a naked, skinny young boy, awaiting his punishment for breaking the rules.
Then, in perfect unison, the crowd erupted into cheers. They rushed towards him, surrounding him, patting him on the back and gushing their thanks and congratulations. Somebody dropped a coat over him. Somebody else thrust a flagon of mead into his hand, though he was too bewildered to drink.
Then, he heard Warwick’s voice. ‘That’s my brother! Let me see him! Give him some space, will you!’
The crowd parted and Warwick appeared. He and Louis stared at each other for a moment, then Warwick threw his arms around him.
‘That was amazing, Lou,’ he said. ‘My little brother! Can you believe it?’