Chapter Seven

He reappeared in a forest with rocky areas and sighed in pain before falling to his knees.  His eyes turned back to normal, the armour and sword disappeared and he began to cry as he looked at his bloody body.  Having memorise of the cries of the soldiers who died one after another.

          He removed his shirt and so on his chest he had a mark of a dragon’s head.  He shouted, “Come out here you dragon, why did you do what you did against my will?”

        Through telekinesis, the dragon told him, “I saved your life.  If I didn't do as I did, you would have died.”

       Hitting the ground with both hands, “Then I should have died instead of all those soldiers dying a worthless death.”

            “Do you hear yourself; those were the same people who wanted you dead and now you plead for them.”

         “It’s my choice, not yours to make.”

    The dragon shouted in rage, “Listen!”  Making him appear where he had first met the dragon.  “You will never survive in this world if you decide to live as you are.”

       “Then let me die, just don’t control me as you did before.  You hear me!”

   The dragon became angry once more and it stepped on him on his chest with its right leg, “I obey no one especially mortal beings like yourself, I shall do as I please,” flying away and he returned to reality.  He looked at his body and he realized that all his wounds were healed.

       He had memories again.  ‘Kill him, don’t let him run away,” shouted a man, ‘Mommy am scared,” said Zeomora to his mother, watching as his mother smashed a man’s head with a rock.  Zeomora asked his mother, ‘Mommy are you a bad person because you killed someone?’  The mother smiled with a bloody face, ‘Don’t worry sweety, am just protecting those bad people from ever getting to you,’ holding his face, ‘sometimes you’ll be faced with times when you’ll have to do things that you never wanted to do.’

         Zeomora returned to reality and said while looking at the ground, “Instead I should be grateful to that dragon, rather than complain.”  He looked at the path ahead, “I don’t even know where to start if only the dragon could help me.”  Sitting on a rock, “But by how our conversation ended, I doubt he will help me,” standing to his feet, “guess I’ll just have to do it myself.”

      After an hour of walking, he decided to rest under a shade.  “I have not met a single soul so far, and the sun,” looking in the skies, “is scorching me dry.”  He heard the rattling of leaves behind him and asked while looking behind, “Who could be out there?”  A bear came out from the bushes, hitting him with one of its paws and he bounced backwards several times before hitting a tree.

               He stood on his feet with his left leg, having injured the right one, causing him to limp.  The bear ran towards him, hitting him with its paws and he fell to the ground.  He stood up, but his legs were shaking both from fear and pain.  The bear went running towards him but this time, he jumped away and it hit a tree.  It growled loudly before running towards him again.

         His mind was in chaos, as he wondered what he could do to save his own life.  He ran but was slow, because of his limping leg.  It reached him, stomping him on the ground, then bit his right arm causing him to cry in pain.  Zeomora asked, ‘What should I do?  I just need to think of something.  Think, think, think.’

      He quickly picked up a rock with his left hand and smashed it on the bear’s eye, causing it to go backwards letting go of its grip.  Then, the bear again in rage began to head his way.  Zeomora looked around himself trying to look for a weapon in panic.  He moved away and the bear continued going forward, but it quickly changed direction coming back his way.

          He groaned in pain as he held his bleeding arm, ‘I have to think of something before it’s too late.’  He looked in his opposite direction and saw that there was a cliff.  Zeomora said, ‘I have no choice, I have to jump down the cliff, but I don’t know how high it is from the ground or the rates of survival, but,’ looking at the incoming bear, ‘I wouldn’t like to stick around to find out.”  He ran, throwing himself down the cliff, rolling severally hitting rocks and tree branches before coming to a stop.

      He spat out blood while some parts of his body bleeding, while other parts were swollen.  When he looked up the cliff, he saw that the bear had followed him and was halfway down it.  Zeomora tried to bring his body to function, but he was tired and injured for the body to communicate.  Tears rolled down his cheeks as he said to his body, “Please move, please move,” while the bear reached the ground and was now heading his way aggressively.

               It bit his neck, then threw him into a fast-flowing river.  He entered the water, drowning and losing consciousness.  When he woke up, he coughed out water as he lay on a rocky area, but the river was still flowing with much pressure.  He coughed out more water while asking, “How did I get here?”  Looking at the river again, “Maybe I dragged myself while I was unconscious.”

            He was now much better and he could stand but felt less pain in his joints.  Ahead, there was a cave, when he confirmed there was nothing inside, he entered and stayed in a corner to keep warm.  He was awoken in the night by the howling of wolves.  He lazily opened his eyes, but quickly came to his senses when he saw an angry pack of wolves in front of him.  “I may have just chosen the date scribbled on my graveyard.”

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