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Eleanor

“It's going to be ok” she realised, half-way through the fight. The dragon was still breathing fire, still dancing in the sky above her, but for the first time she saw clearly that she might have an actual chance. She always thought that if she had the bad luck to draw the card with the red dragon from the pouch the master of ceremonies handed to her, she would never survive. She had even made her peace with it during the four days preceding her ordination. She said her goodbyes to all her teachers, her friends and comrades, the ones she liked and the ones she forgave. But now, she realised that she may have forgiven too easily, she was not dead yet. She took up the sword that lied on the mud and screamed at the sky.