The Unpublished Stories

02

Wulfstan laughed as he slammed the mug on the table, then he called to the innkeeper, “one more round for my friends over here!”

“Ha! Wulfstan’s spoiling us today!” his good old dwarf friend, Thratrus Coalback, nephew of the dwarven chief, laughed merrily, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Well, someone's gotta do it.” He smiled, shrugging and they all laughed again.

The waiter came over with four mugs of beer, and they all cheered. They made a toast to their kings before chugging the drinks. It was the best in the kingdom of Shohan, and possibly the best in all of Alden. The Soaring Eagle was a popular tavern, always full of travelers and locals. It was established in the tenth century and still stands, five hundred years later.

Wulfstan sighed as he put the mug on the table, and he sat back in his chair. Thratrus was starting to talk about life in the mines under the surface, and how they accidentally dug up some elven treasure, which the elves blamed them for stealing. Elves and dwarves didn't get along well, and sometimes they fought over nonsense, it was amusing sometimes. He started to space out, and the voices from the tavern faded.

It almost seemed like he was dreaming, and he saw a dragon, a big one, come out from the depths of Mount Spitfire. The dormant volcano was suddenly alive and kingdoms fell, valleys filled with the seething hot magma. The dragon had an army of trolls, orcs, and other dragons. Some of the phoenixes were even on his side.

Forests burnt down to nothing, castles gone, dwarven mines collapsed, elven palaces nothing but dust. It was horrendous, bodies everywhere, even women and children.

“Hey, Wulf, are you doing good?” Smith's voice brought him back to reality. He was the local blacksmith's son, and Wulfstan’s half brother. His hands were rough and in some places, burnt, to show that he was following his father's footsteps.

“Huh? Yes… it's just- yeah I'm doing alright.” Wulfstan smiled, but it felt fake, the scene wasn't completely gone from his head, and his stomach turned as he saw bodies, lying dead across the Plain of Desolation.

“Were you thinking about…” he lowered his voice, “the dragon?” Wulfstan told him about how sometimes he would have these dreams. They didn't happen often but he still felt the need to talk to someone, and he trusted Smith more than most people. Thratrus also knew about these visions, he was his friend and didn't like keeping stuff from him.

“Dragon?” Kenelm asked. He was a Ranger, like Wulfstan, and a second cousin. His gaze was concerned as he looked at Wulfstan. He hadn't told him anything. 

He then tried to laugh it off, “it's just dreams, we haven't had a dragon in Alden for centuries!”

“... You're right,” he smiled, “dreams are just dreams. Nothing real.” Then his face got serious again, “but I have heard of some dreams being more like… the future? What's the word?”

“Foresight? Vision?” Thratrus looked over to him.

“Yes, something like that.” The Ranger nodded, and Wulfstan sighed. If they were visions of the future, which he highly doubted, Alden was done for.

“It can't be visions, I mean, who's ever had a vision? I'm sure elves have from time to time, but not man.” he tried again to get him to shrug the subject off. That it wasn't anything serious, and just probably from lack of sleep.

“You're right, I shouldn't overreact… but do talk to the King if these dreams become more… frequent. Or maybe tell the wizard, he could help you.”

He sighed again, Kenelm was right, maybe they were more than dreams. But surely not? And what would the dreams mean anyways? A dragon would come out of Mount Spitfire? And the world would end? He looked up to him and promised, “alright. I will do so, if they get worse.”

Kenelm smiled and pulled out his pipe, “good.”

Wulfstan nodded and looked around the tavern. Dwarves and men alike laughing, playing cards, and drinking. Everyone was having a good time. There was a game of darts going in the far corner. Everyone's voices mingled together, along with the laughs and cheers. He then looked out the window and saw the sun sinking softly.

“I should go,” he said suddenly. The three others at the table looked over at him and they nodded, but he could see the concern written on their faces.

“Ride safely.” Thratrus’ voice sounded grim and concern was woven in his words.

“I will.” Wulfstan risked a small smile, and his friend smiled back. As he stood up, the conversation around the table started up again. He gave the innkeeper the amount of gold he needed for the drinks he had just bought. Then he felt a tug on his cloak, and he looked down to see his dwarf friend.

“If anything is ever wrong, you'll tell me, right?” He sounded cautious, like he wasn't sure if he should be asking this. Wulfstan nodded.

“Of course, Thratrus, you're my friend.” he smiled sincerely, telling the truth.

“Alright. That's good... Well, ride safely.” He nodded and headed back to the table. Wulfstan watched until he sat down, then headed outside. The cool, crisp air hit him, it was different from the stuffy, hot tavern. The smell of flowers from the shop next door contrasting with the strong smell of beer and brandy from the tavern.

He went over to the stable, where he found his horse, a strong chestnut mare that could gallop for hours and it would seem like nothing. She was eating some oats in her stall.

“Hey Dawn.” Wulfstan said as he walked up to her. She perked her ears forward at her name. 

“We're gonna head home.” his voice was soft as he grabbed her saddle and bridle, and walked into the stall. Her ears were perked forward still, she was excited and Wulfstan checked to make sure everything was on correctly. He led her outside the stable before hopping into the saddle and gently guiding her down the road.

As Wulfstan put her into a trot and her ears showed she was relaxed. He glanced warily at Mount Spitfire. The other thing that scared him was there was a legend that said a dragon is sealed up inside, sleeping. No one knows when it'll awaken. Or even if it will. But if it ever did, it had the power to destroy Alden. But that was just a legend, and so he looked back to the road and headed into a forest path that would lead home.

Yup...

Chapter of an unnamed book that I haven't worked on for a while... Yeah... Idk LOL