Connor's First Kill

Connor heaved his arms high into the air, squeezed on the jade stone that comprised the hilt of his sword, felt the sting of the engraving meld in the flesh of his palms, clenched his shoulder muscles, and furiously dropped his arms with every ounce of his strength. In an instant, and a shower of red and white embers, the beast fell, its stone armor shattering to dust on the barren earth beneath. A crimson trickle pooled in the dust. With a final groan, the creature bellowed in pain then fell motionless and silent.
The dwarf turned from his quarry to gaze upon the sight, and with a proud guffaw, thrust the blade of his axe into the skull of his advancing opponent. “Aye, lad,” he grunted. “That’s how ya strike a blow.” Vahr chuckled heftily, continuing to swing into the onslaught of attackers.
Connor breathed deep, his body trembling as the weight of blood on his hands panged his heart. Killing was never a part of his dreams. Knowing this wasn’t a dream made the realization of the act sink deeper. His knees fell weak, barely able to support his own weight, let alone the heavy armor wrapping him. Sharp pain encompassed his left shoulder separating him from his thoughts. Anguish would have to wait. The battle was far from over.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

An excerpt from my Dreamland Chronicles series

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