Difference between revisions of "Dragon Rider"
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[[Category:Bardic Runners Up]][[Category:2006 Bardics]] | |||
By: Joiya | By: Joiya | ||
Posted on: February 24, 2006 | Posted on: February 24, 2006 |
Latest revision as of 02:09, 27 March 2017
By: Joiya Posted on: February 24, 2006
Author's Note: This work is purely fiction, drawing upon history for the setting
of the story.
Han-Tolneth lay in my arms and wept, an architectural plan, tumbling from his
fingers. He clutched at my jade robe, almost tearing it from my shoulders as he
battled rage, betrayal, and pain. I had already cried until I'd felt like an
empty husk, pain rolling around inside of me, gnawing ceaselessly in an effort
to consume me. I did not know what expression my face was portraying, but I was
sure it was contorted into a hideous mask. An Aldar had raised a hand against a
brother. Delkalb was dead, and Han-Silnar's hands were fresh with blood, our
own blood...his blood.
"I thought if we stayed to ourselves..." Han-Tolneth gasped against me, and for
a moment raised his head. I traced my fingers over his ashen cheek and forced my
soul to be strong. His gaze bore into mine, as he seemed to gather strength from
something in my face.
"The Gods will not survive," I murmured gently. "They are trapped, just as our
own people were trapped. Will we let them be slaughtered? We are their
children, loved no more and no less than the humans."
A strange expression crossed over Han-Tolneth's face at the mention of the
newest inhabitants of the earth. They were bastards perhaps, but alive just the
same and I had always believed that everything should be given a fighting
chance.
"Do we sit here and do nothing? What do you think our lives will be like with
power-lusting Gods looming over us? Lady Lorielan's hunger for power will never
cease. Never."
"My own brother..." Han-Tolneth murmured, but he was sitting, his warm hand
squeezing my shoulder as his eyes lit on fire. He wore the same expression when
he was drawing a schematic in his head, lovingly crafting wall by wall of some
imagined building.
My soul shuddered and for a moment I wondered if the God's protective dome had
faltered. "We must hurry," I whispered. Fear and determination battled in my
eyes. "We must go to war."
Han-Tolneth lunged to his feet, robe swirling, and I watched as he strode to
his wardrobe and threw it open. Cursing himself and his brother in angry
dripping chants, he ripped out his riding leathers. By the time he had dressed
in the form-fitting suit, I was standing beside him in my own brown armor,
pulling the scaled gloves over my slender wrists. My angry, determined lover,
pain bleeding from his eyes even as his feet carried him to action, stopped and
took my face in his hands. His lips brushed across my forehead, across my
eyelids, then briefly across my lips. With a passionate stare into my own
willing eyes, he ran his hands through my red curls, following it down where it
tumbled across my shoulders.
I followed him as he strode towards the door and flung it open, stepping out
onto the stone balcony. A large gathering of Aldar glanced up at him, at his
leathers, at his expression and there was a low murmured cry. One man, tall,
slender, beautiful, strode up the stairs to meet Han-Tolneth and clasped him
about the forearm. "We ride then?" I had known that the remaining Aldar had
wanted to do something. We'd all felt useless, ashamed, as we hid and pretended
that a brutal war was not taking place. The outcome would affect all of us.
Turning to look down into the upturned faces, Han-Tolneth punched the air with
his fist. Curling back his lips in a loud thundering voice that tingled all the
way down into the soles of my boots, he shouted, "Dragon Masters, we ride!"
We were airborne in less than twenty minutes, hundreds of leather-clad Aldar
astride our fearsome mounts. I rode beside Han-Tolneth, and glanced at his
opalescent white dragon. I could not remember when we had last been called to
arms, but we were all willing to die to protect the Elder Gods from their
destruction. My own mount, Gresh'et, a slender red, snapped her wings
powerfully and took me spiraling up into the sky. I couldn't help but laugh,
and heard it ripple back through our ranks. I guided her back into formation
and composed my face. I did not know what we would see. We had heard stories,
rumors, of demon beasts, somehow brought into our home by Khalas. I cursed him
beneath my breath, and glanced vehemently about me. What? Had He not heard me?
I almost screamed my curses aloud, my lips forming the names of the
God-betrayers when the bloody battlefield of Nishnatoba came into view. The
dragons all began to keen.
Throwing themselves against a large pearly dome upon the ground were hundreds,
maybe even thousands of dark nightmarish creatures. Their wings beat
frantically against the dome as they snapped and tore, trying to get past the
barrier to the Gods. The Qui'anar, the Horkval, the Scrula, and the mercenaries
of Arn were being torn apart by the flying demons. But for a moment, with the
dragons' roars, everything stopped. Heads raised, eyes lifted. I saw the
gorgeous Lady Lorielan with a hand to her face, and caught an expression of
triumph. "We have not come for you," I muttered under my breath. I lifted my
hand and as I imagined power flooding out of my chest and down my arm, magic
danced across my fingers. I glanced behind me at the other Aldar, my sharp
eyesight picking them out as they opened themselves to power and raised their
bows, readying arrows as they fastened themselves to their saddles.
I looked at Han-Tolneth, regal, angry, ready, but he didn't look at me. He was
staring at the small figure of his brother. Raising his fist, he wheeled his
dragon around and roared a challenge at Han-Silnar. As he swooped down to
confront his brother I touched Gresh'et with my mind, telling her to sweep down
across the massed forces. A strange winged demon that looked like a bear with
six large eyes glanced up at me. With a scream, I threw a bolt of pure energy
that sizzled across its head. Blinded, I watched it fall with quiet
satisfaction. Another winged demon fell on it, licking it grotesquely as if
trying to envelope its essence. And then, they were after me. Funneling up into
the sky like a storm cloud, a group of the winged atrocities soared after me.
Hooking myself in the saddle I stroked my hand down Gresh'et's scaled neck,
feeling a rush of exhilaration as she began to give them something to chase.
Flipping, spinning, twirling, I glanced down and saw the pearly protective dome
shimmer and disappear. For a moment I felt despair. Had the Gods faltered? Was
it over? Then there was a roar, a divine roar that sliced through my brain. I
was dazed, dizzy, but elation quickly overtook the pain. I had never felt more
revitalized or certain. We would prevail over the Triumvirate.
Gresh'et spun and snapped one of the demons out of the air, tearing its wings
to shreds before ripping brutally into its belly as it squealed and spat foul
smoke. Oily black blood splattered across the faces of the traitor Aldar, and
they all glanced up. We, the dragon riders, knew what we had to do and
concentrated our attack on our own brethren. I caught sight of someone I knew
raising a hand to kill a Horkval troop, leaping towards him. Biting my lip
savagely until blood ran down my chin, I infused the Horkval with power and
forced myself to watch as he dodged the Aldar's attack and ripped his chest
open with a strong-armed swing of his sword. Gresh'et began to spew firebreath
across the ranks as we flew over, and shredded one leaping figure with her
claws. Demon bodies began falling out of the sky as the dragons spun and
attacked.
Battlecries rent the air as the dwarves and mercenaries charged the Nevaharr
and Kx'Khrah. The tide was being pushed back. A hideous creature that I could
only assume was the infernal demons' leader had no chance to turn his eye on
us, for the Elder Gods had descended into pure fury and were unleashing their
power in awesome quantities. Lord Aegis tore by me, nearly upsetting Gresh'et
as he ripped the limbs from a shrieking demon. His terrifying gaze scraped over
me and I stared, transfixed, as he headed back down to the ground with bloody
pieces of demons in his hands. Lady Gaia and Lord Vastar were raging at the
elementals, and I pressed Gresh'et into a spin as a flash of lightning seared
down past me, nearly singing my leg. As the battle sizzled beneath me like a
raging ocean, I realized that the Triumvirate's mortal allies had been
decimated. The Gods turned to the demons.
"The demon lord!" a dragon rider screamed, soaring past me through the scorched
sky. I turned my head, following his plunge.
"Pazuzu! Pazuzu!" someone else screamed. The demon was escaping. Without a
thought I joined the other riders in the chase. I don't know how I got in front
of him but I did, wheeling Gresh'et around to cut him off. A thick group of us
cornered him, swirling around him as he tried to escape. With a murderous
scream that sent a shiver down my spine he tore viciously into the wing of a
dragon, fixing himself to its belly like a furious cat. His claws ripped huge
rends in the dragon's body before he released it. I watched in horror as the
dragon fell, crushing the Aldar rider beneath him. Another Aldar moved into the
empty space, cutting off Pazuzu's escape.
"Don't let him run!" someone shouted.
I could see Lord Matsuhama and Lord Aegis racing towards us, and with
determination threw a rope of power at Pazuzu. The demon's attention turned
towards me. Gresh'et dove and evaded his attack, and snapped at one clawed leg,
ripping it almost off at the knee. As she came up beneath him, I felt a terrible
pain rake across my back, splitting open my leathers like silk. Suddenly I was
tossed high into the air. I caught sight of Lord Matsuhama reaching out towards
Pazuzu...I saw Gresh'et wheeling around, wings outstretched...the air rushed
past my ears and then it all stopped.
Something cracked in my back, and the pain I felt as my torn back slammed into
the ground quickly vanished. I tried to move my left arm, and somehow turned my
head to look. It was gone. I was cold. I couldn't breathe. Gresh'et landed
beside me, nearly rolling on top of me. Her huge horned head loomed above me
and she whined, the noise nearly shattering my eardrums. A shadow flashed
across my face and an Aldar's face loomed over me. Somehow I couldn't remember
her name, and stared at the tight leather enclosing her hand as she touched my
face. "Han-Tolneth?" I gurgled, trying to spit the blood out that was clogging
my throat.
The woman smiled sadly, and my eyes widened in panic. "No, no!" she said, "He
is fine. Han-Silnar submitted to him on his knees."
"The battle?" The woman's face was starting to darken and I blinked, trying to
focus on the hard lines of her face.
"Over, over. Lord Matsuhama and Lord Aegis have subdued Pazuzu. And I heard
that Lady Lorielan surrendered to Lord Phaestus. It is over, Nevealen, the
fighting...is over."
I blinked. She knew my name. Who was she? Another shadow fell across my face
and Han-Tolneth's eyes filled my vision. Warm, wise eyes, even now filled with
pain. I tried to touch his face but couldn't. I had forgotten. He seemed
reluctant to pick me up for his hands touched me then retreated, and he spoke
to someone else above me that I couldn't see. "Her soul?" he was saying.
"The wounds...her back...the spine is showing..."
I blinked at the fragmented words. My spine? It was becoming more difficult to
concentrate. "We did it, darling," I managed to say. "We...we did our duty. The
Gods are...saved..."
"Hush, try not to speak. You'll be reborn, I promise."
I laughed and nearly chocked. "Reborn? I'm not dead yet Han..." My eyes closed.
I was sinking into warm darkness. Everything was fading away. I don't think I
ever wanted to wake again. Somewhere, somewhere someone was singing.