Light. Nothing but pure light. Everything is still and silent and white. The fire has died down in my limbs in facts... I don't feel anything at all. Suddenly that terrible roar comes rolling at me louder and louder... a roar so desperate and so frustrated it overpowers my previous cries easily. Then the light fades and I find myself once again in the meadow. But something is different. Everything is warmer... Much warmer. Almost too hot to bear. And I can actually see. I can see real colors and rock walls and a pale blue sky high above me. It's just like how the world looked like when I could still see. What is going on? I look around, savoring every detail... who knows how long I will be able to see like this. I turn a circle to find settled next to, what was once the pond, a pale golden dragon.
The dragon gazes at me with bright, gold eyes... But they are heart-breakingly sad in a way impossible to describe. Then in my mind I hear it's voice... Her voice speaking to me calmly. watch closely but never see him... he is here, listen.
"what? I don't understand". I venture carefully, dragons are wise and gentle but they can still be dangerous when they want to be.
But her eyes only twinkle... The same way my mom's would when she smiled at me. The story of your kindred... The sacred alliance of the broken... When words fail, answers will reveal themselves
I think about my earlier scream fest, I was pouring out my emotions into meaningless noise... was that what she meant with "when words fail?" I venture on that guess, " then reveal the answers."
The dragon blinks and disappears. A rustle catches my attention and I turn around. There she was again but brighter, much smaller and accompanied by another dragon. This one a majestic emerald green. How did she do that? And where did that other dragon come from? Then I hear her voice in my head again, The broken where once whole. I look at the two dragons then realize, this is a memory.
The female touched her nose to a shimmery icy blue egg about the size of my head. The other dragon (I'm guessing is the dad) was right there beside her. Just the sight of the three of them together made my heart ache for a family just like that. The broken where once whole, what does she mean?
Then the father raised his head suddenly. There was something approaching that only he seemed to hear. Only a moment later something shot straight down on top of the dragons, pouring a shadowy mist on top of them. The dragons roared and sprung at the intruder fearlessly. But more attackers shot at them from above.
I see them clearly now, they were obviously wizards from their cloaks and staffs, however they didn't act like wizards. Wizards would never attack any magical animal especially not a family of dragons. Where there such thing as evil wizards?
The father doused the wizards in a blaze of white-green fire, however they seemed unaffected. The mother did likewise but with the same results. The egg was just sitting there with nothing guarding it oh no!
A wizard crept unnoticed into the nest and sliding his long, crooked fingers over the shell.
With a cry of anguish the mother sprung on the figure, gleaming claws extended, eyes glowing white hot.
She grabbed the wizard and, with one violent tug, ripped him to shreds... Literally. Then as delicately as she could, she wrapped her tongue around the egg and bounded off with several wizards rushing to catch her. She glided to the center of the pond and clung to the brittle rock spire. For some reason it wasn't crystal. Just as she and her egg found their temporary haven, the wizards fighting the father brought the tips of their staffs together and shot a silver arrow. It lodged itself straight into a crystal-like scale in the dragons chest... His one and only life line.
I gasp. The crystal exploded, releasing a roar of pure outrage and anger... like the one I heard in the pit, then a blast of fire pouring outward like a flood of beautiful green water, the earth shook, the air churned... carrying the roar for miles around. His scales shattered into a fine emerald powder that twirled dainty spirals in all directions. All that remained was his skeleton that shuttered in the flames. His eerie spiked skull rose, empty sockets gazing at the mother and the egg... their precious egg. He moaned a long keening moan and the flames lowered turning a cold, pale green. He faced the wizards and the flames shot out all directions changing to angry colors at impossible speed. He raised his head and screamed. The flames trembled, he shrieked louder and higher until his own bones started cracking. When his body finally broke, the flames shattered like glass and fell through the ground.
I slowly released my breath. I remember Dad telling me about dragons, he had said that everything about dragons was dramatic, powerful, and awe-inspiring. Though dragons can't really speak they where always understood through pictures and emotions. The death of a dragon was always something incredibly rare, and beautiful, but probably the saddest thing anyone could behold. It was soul-shattering. Broken the dragon said once more. It hit me like blow to the stomach. The death of a dragon wasn't the only thing that's soul-shattering. Broken. My family is broken. Broken. I'm alone, and so is this dragon and her egg.
The sacred alliance of the broken
The she-dragon howled and sprung at the remaining wizards. Ferociously ripping them apart one by one, taking every blow they shot at her. She had snapped. It didn't matter what happened to her as long as the intruders were dead. By the time only one last foe remained, she was scratched all over. Her once beautiful wings were bloody and torn. Her claws were mangled from tearing through all sorts of magical defences. She was breathing hard, blood dripping from her teeth.
She snarled at him, but the wizard only laughed. He had a deep laugh that seemed to find extreme humor in the situation. A shiver ran up my spine... he sounded like a madman.
The wizard raised a black gloved hand and formed an orb of emerald green energy... the exact color of the the dragon's mate. She growled in outrage, and retreated to the spire and her egg. The man laughed harder. He looked down at the energy he had stolen from the green dragon. I could tell that he had more than enough power to kill her, and watched in horror as he advanced.
YOU ARE READING
Egg Hunter
FantasyThe adventures of Tarka and her dragon as they search for the last of the dragon eggs.