Nethyrion's Defense Book 1

Nethyrion's Defense-Part 1

Chapter 1
In a far-off land, where the sun set over jagged peaks and dark forests loomed in the night, there was said to be a dragon who had come to be called the great beast, Nethyrion. Though many tales were told of his destruction and terror, the people had learned to live beside him as a necessary evil, paying tribute of gold and livestock to keep him sated and their villages undisturbed.

But it wasn't always so. Once, long ago, Nethyrion had been a protector, a powerful being enlisted by the gods to maintain balance and order in the world. But over time, the dragon had grown restless, feeling the weight of centuries bearing down on his wings. And so he grew solitary, rarely seen or spoken to, an ominous presence circling the peaks, with his great hoard of gold and treasure.

But the world was changing, and those who had once ignored the dragon started to fear for their lives. For there was another creature that stalked the lands, something greater than the dragon, and its power was growing every day. It hunted the dragons and humans alike, devouring and destroying anything that it deemed unworthy. It would have crushed everything in its path if not for the great dragon's intervention. Now, it seemed, even Nethyrion was threatened, and the dragon could only hope that the godly beast would not be too angry when it returned.
Chapter 2
When the first hints of dawn began creeping through the sky, Hjørgen stirred restlessly against the stone wall
of his room. His mind raced through memories from last night, trying desperately to recall all he had done, but his sleep had been fitful and uneasy, disturbed by strange noises coming from below. Eventually, after what felt like hours, he gave up on trying to remember and rolled out of bed. He stumbled into the hallway and down the steps into the main hall, yawning widely and rubbing sleep away from his eyes. As he turned his attention to the morning meal, he tried to convince himself that it was nothing more than a nightmare, something he hadn't experienced before. He couldn't remember any of his dreams ever being quite this... vivid. The food tasted strange and tasteless in his mouth, though it didn't taste as bad as usual. Perhaps there was something wrong with the spices he'd used.
He finished eating and wandered into the courtyard, taking care to avoid the large wooden doors at the base of the staircase, knowing they led outside, to where the stables stood.
As the light of dawn brightened the valley beyond, Hjørgen's gaze was drawn back to the stable, where a black horse had just emerged. It moved slowly forward, its hooves ringing on the stones as it approached, and Hjørgen' heart pounded.
The horse drew closer still until finally, it halted directly in front of Hjørgen, and stared at him impassively. "Hello," Hjørgen murmured awkwardly, scratching behind one ear nervously. He was certain the horse couldn't understand him. He'd never met an animal quite like it. A few villagers claimed they'd heard stories about the horse, and while it was generally considered somewhat strange, the stories had been dismissed by most. After all, there were no horses in Asgard. But now, perhaps, there was a chance.
Chapter 3
"Erm... hello."
His hopes faded quickly as the horse continued staring at him silently, unmoving. Hjørgen looked around nervously, wondering if perhaps someone else should speak first.
The village children who usually played with him on the fields came running out of the door of the inn at the sound of his voice. Their faces lit up when they saw the horse, and a small group of them rushed toward it, chattering excitedly among themselves. But the older boy standing next to them kept shaking his head, whispering something unintelligible to his friends. They all looked at Hjørgen, then each other, and back again. Finally, the boy spoke up.
"What are you going to do with him?" he asked. "We can't let anyone see him like this. He looks wild. We won't be able to sell him." He reached up tentatively and patted the horse's mane, which seemed a bit soft. The animal did not move.
The oldest boy shrugged, looking a bit embarrassed. "You want to ride him?"
Hjørgen nodded eagerly. "If I'm going to be stuck in here for weeks with nobody around... yeah!"
With some reluctance, the older boy stepped aside so that Hjørgen could get past.
Chapter 4(climax)

Hjørgen held onto the straps, trying to steady the trembling mount beneath him as they rode across the bridge. The horses were old and tired, and the crossing hadn't gone nearly as smooth and smooth as Hjørgen hoped. When the crossing guards spotted them heading toward the other side, they yelled and waved the reins frantically. By the time they'd finally cleared the bridge, the poor horses were practically collapsing from exhaustion.
As they walked across the bridge, the older boy leading the horse stopped briefly to look around at the surrounding trees. "Hey, look at all the dead things," he muttered, wrinkling his nose. "It's like somebody dropped a bunch of rocks off the cliff." The horse shook his head slightly in agreement. The boy grinned sheepishly as he noticed Hjørgen looking over at him. "Sorry. You know how it is."
Hjørgen smiled in return. "Yeah." He glanced back over at the bridge, then turned his attention back to the horse. "Thanks, Nethyrion."
The horse huffed and snorted, and Hjørgen could tell that it wanted to say something else. Something important. But the horse simply turned and began walking along a well worn trail, heading away from the bridge, deeper into the forest. Hjørgen looked at the others questioningly. They all shrugged, following obediently behind the horse. Soon the trail widened, turning to form a wide meadow, filled with various flowers and weeds. In the middle of the field sat the biggest tree Hjørgen had ever seen, towering above everything. Even the largest of the villagers shrank from it when they passed by, although none spoke of it openly. It was said that it could swallow entire villages whole and spit them out on the other side.
After several minutes, the horse finally reached the base of the massive pine and paused, letting them dismount. Nethyrion stretched out his wings as much as he could, stretching his neck and fluttering them as much as he could. He whinnied, and Hjørgen grinned.
"Come on, guys!" The boy who had led the way beckoned Hjørgen forward. "Let's climb that tree and see what treasures we find there." The two boys ran toward the nearest tree, disappearing up the trunk, leaving Hjørgen alone with the horse. He smiled at him. "Well, I guess this is where we part ways," he murmured.
Then he grabbed hold of the saddlebags hanging from the horse's saddle and started up the tree, climbing hand over hand until he reached an opening in the branches.
He peeked out cautiously, scanning the ground around him. All he could see was the forest floor far below, covered in thick layers of lush green grass. Then, out of nowhere, he heard something rustling nearby. He froze, listening carefully, then suddenly remembered that he had left his knife behind, along with his shield and spear. Slowly, he peered up through the leaves and caught sight of the figure of a huge winged reptile slinking into view, moving slowly from root to branch, keeping its eye on the clearing below. He tensed. This wasn't supposed to happen. Why did he forget his knife? Hadn'aðan said he'd bring it to him? What if the dragon found him? He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and slowly inched his way higher into the tree, staying alert.
The lizard made its way around a particularly large root and stopped directly below the tree. The beast lowered its head and sniffed the earth, but there was no sign of life anywhere. It lifted itself up and moved to the right, pausing and sniffing once again. Then, suddenly, a loud crashing noise came from the center of the clearing.
Chapter 5(cliffhanger ending)
A few moments later, Nethyrion burst out of the tree, a heavy wooden shield clutched tightly in his jaws. With great effort, he staggered across the clearing towards the dragons nest, dragging the shield between his teeth and using one shoulder to push the branches out of his way with his forelegs. He reached the nest, tossed the shield inside, and flopped down beside it.
Hjørgen climbed out of the tree and looked over at the nest. It was larger than he had imagined. There must have been thousands of eggs sitting in nests built in the tree's branches, all piled high together. Some were cracked open while others lay undisturbed. Most of the eggs looked empty, while others were completely packed. A large pile of eggs rested next to him, all of varying size. Hjørgen picked up one of the smaller eggshells, examining it curiously. It felt smooth under his fingertips, as if there weren'a much of anything inside. He frowned. So the dragons probably ate these eggshells before laying their babies and storing them for later use. It wouldn't be hard for them to eat the eggs too after they've hatched, unless the hatchlings tried to escape during the day, which would make sense since they'd have no reason to hide away during the day. But why leave so many of them unguarded? And then it struck him: they must be afraid to approach them. If they were hiding within the nest, perhaps they were also afraid of them. It made perfect sense. Dragons were territorial creatures, and a mother's hoard might make her angry. She would likely destroy any intruder who dared enter her nesting area without permission. That meant that, in order for this nest to survive, the dragons must always guard their young in such an obvious manner.