Gone Awry

The 124 racers where all standing in a row anticipating the signal that would tell them that the race started.

Ash was standing right in the middle of them all, feeling a bit out of place when she saw the tall, muscular or lean witches and wizards that where all at least 25 years old.

Right next to her was Konrad Weiss - the Seeker of the German National Quidditch Team, on her left was Olaf Andersen one of the Chasers of the Nordic National Quidditch Team and the winner of last years Annual Broom Race. Then a few people down she could see his colleges Lorre Gustafson, and Peter Hansen, the beaters Asgeir Knutsen and Asgard Pettersson, the Keeper Martin Helstrom and Seeker and Captain Tina Lundstrom. Furthermore she saw, Gianni Fedele from the United States team as well as Tim Sullivan, Justin Time and Ken Tersias - the three top Quodpot players in the United states.

Around them she could hear the calls of the fans, especially Olaf Anderson's name was echoing through the crowed.

Then they hear the whistle - Get ready. The racers get ready to jump of the ground.

A second whistle - Set. The racers tense and wait.

A loud bang shook the air and the racers propel themselves of the ground.

The race begins.

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Ash pushed herself of the ground and her broom took up speed as she clung to the tails of her rivals. Quickly she found her the best position on her broom and sped of into the distance.

It was an awesome feeling, up here in the clouds, the air running through her hair and pushing back her cape... For the first time in forever she felt truly free again.

All around her she saw her fellow racers wear the same facial expression of bliss as her as they allowed themselves to enjoy the breeze of air rushing past them.

But then the race truly started and they regained their poker faces. It was around 24 miles before they reached the Dragon reservation. The worst thing they could do, was reach the reservation when they were in a group - only individuals are able to make it through the Short-Snouts unnoticed. Those who stayed with the group where bound to get their attention and be attacked.

While looking at the other racers, she noticed that she was one of the smallest racers in the whole crowed - giving her the hope that the Dragons that saw her, saw another one of the racers as well and would see them as the tastier meal or the bigger threat.

While the wind was whipping passed her she saw most of the professionals gain some distance on her and swiftly she leaned on the broom even more to get rid of the air friction and shot after them. Olaf Andersen was the one she should keep an eye on. He had won this race two times in a row already and surly knew the shortest and safest was to Arjeplog.

Ash had already flown a few races before in Germany, but this was harder and faster then even she expected.

Sure, she knew that the really good racers only needed around 4 to 5 hours to get from Kopparberg to Arjeplog, but she couldn't quiet image how fats that meant that they needed to fly.

In only 15 minutes the first ones reached the Dragon reservation. Ash got there three minutes later, but she wasn't going the fastest she could go yet.

She had taken the three minutes to check out the nearing reservation for any signs that the Dragons were near and watch the professionals flying style and speed. If she wanted even the slightest chance to defeat them, she would need to know their technique. But she couldn't dismiss the other witches and wizards either.

Sure, a couple of them, seemed harmless, they didn't want to win the race because "The most important thing is not to win but to take part!"

But there a couple of others that looked to be the calculating type, like her - Look at what the people that did this before do and figure out how to win with that.

But There was one major difference between her and those other calculating racers - she had a brother that was Dragonologist and taught her everything there s to know about Dragons, emphasizing the parts on what to make sure to do if you fly through a Dragon infested place.

Quickly she pointed her broom towards the ground and went of a super quick descend, only pulling up when she was about 2 metres above the ground. Staying at that height she sweeped over the bare rock below her and then entered the forest.

Yes. It was dangerous - she could have hit an tree at any time and with the speed she was traveling in, that wouldn't have been a nice sight.
But on the other hand it was also safe, because the Dragons didn't really have the space to fly through these trees. Meaning that for the time being she wouldn't have to worry about them.

Rule number 1: Stay out of the sight of the Dragons.

She heard a the swishing sounds of brooms around her and a couple of screams from above. When she glanced left, she could see Weiss manoeuvring through the the forest like her. In front of her was Andersen and somewhere on the right was another racer that she couldn't quiet distinguish from the others.

When they neared the end of the forest - and were about to enter a open field, Ash slowed her broom down a bit - trying to make it look as if she stumbled or hit something so that a couple of other racers shot passed her.

Rule number 2: Never be the first, second of third to enter open space, with the exception that your absolutely awesome and are wearing some weird perfume that repels Dragons... (or are Olaf Anderson)

Ash 'got her bearing' again after three racers passed her, she flew out of the woods and saw the first Dragons.

They were Swedish Short-Snouts, dragons with the average length of about 22ft and native to Sweden that inhabit the wild, uninhabited areas, mostly in the northern mountains of Sweden - but they like this reservation a lot as well.
Why? Because, as Ash now saw, it was a very large mountain Range as well, with nearly no forests.

Their silvery blue scales gleamed in the sun, as they flew into the air and started attacking the witches and wizards that invaded their territories.

There were still three people in front of her, the fourth one was already ... disqualified due to lifelessness.

Suddenly one of the Dragons roared and as Ash looked up into the sky she saw one of them get ready to blow out its powerful flame.

Rule number 3: Don't panic - even if a Short-Snout is attacking you with its super ht powerful flame that can even burn bone in a matter of seconds!

This - Ash sadly had to admit - was one of the hardest rules to follow. Especially because she knew that if that flame reached her in any way or from, not ever her teeth would be left for her family to identify.

Ash wished that she had gotten Blaise to get her the fireproof stuff that Charlie had given her a few winters ago for her birthday. - She would have fit right in, because that stuff was made out of Short-Snout skin... Alright, maybe she could be happy that she didn't wear that.

Quickly she tried to think on what Charlie had told her to do if she was attacked by a Dragon...

Ash heard another roar... 'Hope that a bigger Dragon comes? No, can't be... why did I just think that?'

She the roar again - and her eyes widened in horror as she looked up at the sun and saw the silhouette of an Norwegian Ridgeback across the sky.

"What the fuck! Why is a freaking Norwegian Ridgeback here!" she shouted and forgot all about the Snouts.

Hurriedly she concentrated her every last nerve on gaining speed and getting to that slightly narrower cliff she saw about 10 kilometres North of her.

She didn't look back, didn't want to know what was happening behind them, all she cared about was getting to the cliff.

As soon as she reached the cliff she shot down into it, until she nearly reached the ground. To her left and to her right was about a metre and under her she saw spikes reaching out for her. Gently flying just above the spikes she listened to the sounds that were coming from the clearing.

Here and there she heard shots of despair cries of pain that suddenly stopped or increased.

She could still here the sounds after another 5 miles of rushing through the narrow cliff. When she didn't hear the cries any more, she flew on for another 20 miles and then allowed her broom to fly upwards again and check where she was and if anyone else was near.

Slowly she flew out of the ground and didn't see anyone around her - thankfully she didn't see any Dragons either.

Swiftly she took out her wand and the map that they had given the participants and pointed at it. Immediately it showed her were she was and where she should go.

She was about 4 miles of course. If she flew to her left now, she'd be going the swiftest way to Arjeplog from here.

Quietly she put the map back in her pocket, but kept the wand in her hands, ready to attack and defend if a Dragon were to notice her rushing through their mids.