Picayune
Picayune hopped off his trusted steed, wiping the sweat from his brow. The heat from a day’s long journey had taken its toll on him. Turning to his noble companion, he checked the condition of the previous battle wounds that his friend had received. The dressings to the wounds he had applied earlier were holding. He removed Puissant from under his friend’s saddlebags. The long sword had been in his family possession for many generations, He paused wondering if he should wait until the morning sun. But remembering the devastation the wyrm had done on previous nights, he dismissed the idea almost immediately. Strapping the weapon to his side he got a few supplies and turned to face his next challenge.
The rock face was steep, but climbable so he slowly made his way up the slope. The blanched moon was silhouetted behind the dead, black-ash trees of the umbra. For a few hours he slowly moved towards the summit of Mementomori Mountain, until the moors below were obscured by the haze. Scaling a bit further, he discovered the enormous maw of the cavern, ready to swallow any who entered into the abyss.
As he was about to enter the cave, the putrid smell of acid burned his nostrils so badly his eyes watered. Ripping some cloth from his tunic, he covered his face. The foreboding black of the cave made it nearly impossible to see anything inside. Fumbling in the dark, he managed to find his flint and steel to light one of his torches. The light of the flame caused his shadows to chase unseen evils against the rock walls, but he was too focused on the task at hand to notice.
He continued deeper into the passage for several minutes as it sloped down in a spiral pattern, eventually opening to a much larger chamber. Stalagmites jutted up from the floor which was dotted with pools of a black liquid.
“Where are you vile beast?” He asked in a hushed whisper, not expecting a reply.
“Who dares enter my home?” was the response, with force enough to almost knock him off his feet.
“It is I, Picayune the Noble. I have come to put an end to your villainous ways.”
Laughter filled the chamber, knocking a few stalactites from the darkness of the ceiling. “I haven’t heard such arrogance in a few hundred years. Perhaps I will play with you first, before making a meal out of you. From the hidden recesses of the cave, the creature took just enough steps to be seen in the torchlight. The yellow, cat-like eyes glowed, illuminating the black wyrm’s face. The dragon shook its head removing even more rubble from above as its powerful jaws ground against themselves, exposing two-foot long incisors. It crouched on its belly as it crept towards the warrior - like a cat stalking its prey - ready to pounce on Picayune in an instant.
Tossing his torch to the floor, Picayune removed the shield from his back and drew his sword. Taking in a breath, he quickly glanced at his battle-worn equipment. Time always seemed to stand still for him just before entering combat, and this was no exception. With the inspection over, he turned to his opponent and cleared the distance to it an instant, taking away any advantage it might have gotten.
The beast dodged Picayune’s attack and back-pedaled for a moment, hissing at him. Its saliva sizzled as it dripped from the corners of its jaws. It rushed and snapped at him, but Picayune was a seasoned fighter and simply dodged all its attacks. It coiled its neck like a python to try to wind around his back, but Picayune anticipated the move and swung his sword down catching the creature on the neck, slicing it deeply.
The dragon reacted by snapping its head up and away, but drove its head into the ceiling dazing it for a moment. Its eyes narrowed, focused on its foe, when it spied something of more interest to itself causing a chuckle to emerge from deep within its depths. Raising its claw, it raked the air above the warrior’s head, clearly missing him. But the target wasn’t him, but the torch burning on the ground behind him. The wind produced from the swipe was enough to extinguish the life from the fire. With the only source of light removed, all Picayune could see were those sinister eyes swaying back and forth in a hypnotic stare.
Suddenly his shield was ripped from his arm as something heavy impacted his side. Picayune attempted to dodge, but the loose debris betrayed him. He went crashing to the ground, the sound of his weathered armor ringing loudly in the echo chamber. Before he could get up, a large claw was on his chest, pinning him down. He struggled under its weight, but was no match for its strength. The dragon bent down, sniffing Picayune’s body, the stink of rotten flesh from its mouth nearly gagging him. A black cloud of vapor seeped from the beast’s nostrils as a forked tongue licked his face.
“A small but tasty morsel you are, your struggle only delights me more,” the dragon said to him. It flexed its claw on his chest, crushing the armor he wore to protect his form.
Picayune continued to thrash about until the hand that once held his shield connected with his pouch. He remembered his father’s words, ‘This gem will protect your spirit, when all things seem lost. You need but to open it to release the treasure within.’ Removing the gem from his pocket and summoning the last bit of strength that was dwindling from him, he struck it against the sharp edge of a nearby stalagmite. The force of the blow cut the gem neatly in two, but also gashed his hand.
The halves started to glow with a golden light, soft at first, but rapidly growing in intensity. The monster pulled its head back and started its deadly bite as time slowed for him again. He tossed the acorn halves into the air as the beast lunged forward. The halves started to spin before bursting into light so strong 1000 fireflies in the dead of night could not compare. The light’s rays touched the reptile, stopping its attack. Picayune shielded his eyes while the light continued to grow.
The dragon roared in pain shaking the ground as it trembled. It reared back some, removing its weight from Picayune’s chest. Slicing the arm that was pinning him down, Picayune managed to free himself in time to see the light turning the dragon’s scales to a smoky liquid, each ray causing the creature to yelp in pain. The dragon fell to its stomach as the light grew in volume. Picayune approached the creature, stepping up to its face as he drew his sword back. The dragon’s eyes narrowed as its opponent partially blocked the light with his body. Summoning the last bit of strength, it lunged at Picayune, grabbing him around the waist as they both crashed into the light. The last thing touching him was the monstrosity’s tongue as the light completely engulfed them both.
Picayune blinked a few times as focus returned to his eyes, a large tongue still licking him across the face. He sat up in bed, pushing his pet worm Wiggles off of him. He struggled to get out of bed, the blankets wrapped around his middle holding him in place. Unraveling himself from the mess, he walked over to the mirror and sighed.
“I am just a dormouse, nothing like that would ever happen to me.” He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the morning light that had entered his windows. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he put on his simple leathers before going downstairs to his father’s shop.
Picayune is the story of an anthromorphic mouse and his dreams of greatness. An event thrusts him into a role, he might not have taken, and he discovers what an adventure truly means.