Free Futanari Legends: The Frozen Queen (Book 2: Astrid) by Angel Black Page B

only see it roughly for a moment before pulling myself to a rock and quickly getting a second look to confirm my worst fears. The image is only there a blink in my eyes, but what I see is clear.
    My life is spared. My battle over.
    The dragon flies away, the girl in the yellow dress draped in his claws.
    Everything I have fought for has ended.
    Chloe is gone.

Chapter 9:
    Obey
     
    And so it starts.
    She is a darklord, born of death and dark magics, and I am a mage, born of bending the fabric of reality.
    We are both weakened in our current state, she having been thrown from a dragon after it broke through a magical barrier of the gods, and myself having been in the vicinity of that explosion and nearly fell off the mountain of which we both stand.
    The fact that she walks strong and certain and survived the explosion at the point of impact tells me she is much stronger than I. However, strength does not mean everything when it comes to magical battles. Victory in any battle depends on the desired outcome. It is not a matter of settling for less, just setting in your mind what you think victory should be given your situation and foe.
    “Do not think you are going to weave your way free from this one,” the darklord says, her green eyes narrowing to glowing slits. “I know of your ways, mage.”
    She holds my face in her hand. I am weak from the fall and the sudden magical eruption, and the tear down the mountain hangs in the air, popping and crackling as the magic tries to keep the barrier up, but the hole punched through is too large and torn for itself to repair. Blue flashes of light illuminate us like lightning, and you can taste the unfocused magic seething through the frozen air.
    “Open it!” She says, shouting above the hissing pops of magical energy arcs. She shoves me down the slope, and I stumble, righting myself on a rock. I stare at the magical rip, it is far too dangerous for either of us to get near, and I think the darklord wishes me to sacrifice myself so she may chase her pet dragon.
    How anyone can keep one of those as a pet I do not know.
    I glance back, spots still in my eyes, and she keeps a finger pointed at me, dark magics wrapping around her blood-red fingernail. I know of the death magic spell called a shadow-bolt, and this is what I suspect she has primed and ready to fire should I try to flee or disobey. I can feel the seething chill of the darkbolt primed and ready state aiming between my shoulder blades. While I don’t like being in this position, at least I know when the spell is pointed at me and when it is not.
    She still has to aim.
    “Who are you?” I say, wiping the snow and ice from my face.
    “Does it matter?” She says, hissing back at me. “Open the tear. I do not care if you die doing so.”
    “Well, I do. I am Astrid of Magetower,” I say, “and I am raising my hand to weave the tear in the barrier, shall you allow me to do that?”
    Best to be a little careful when someone has a spell pointed at you that could tear you in two. I am also lying a little in thinking I can repair this tear, this barrier was made by the gods, and I doubt my ability to even touch such a power. To me, it would be like trying to divert a raging river with a small piece of paper.
    Though one I think about it, that could be done.
    “Go ahead, weave and stay the magics,” she says, “and no sudden spells. I shall not hesitate to-”
    “You need me,” I say, and I curse my proud tongue. Still, this is the truth, and without my magic, she has no hope of chasing her pet through the barrier. If she could have used her dark magic to get through, she would have, and she would have never seen me.
    “I need you?” She twists my blond hair in her hand and yanks my head back. The way she says ‘need’ drips with venom and hatred. “I need nothing. Not you. Not the dragon. Not my master Archlich Skeldor. Only the girl. Nothing else.” She shoves me back against the rock as the lightning around the