"Before there was anything there were dragons. They ruled over oblivion, a gaping void where nothing exists but everything lives."
The war had raged for decades. And in it's wake all that had been left was a broken expanse of a fire burnt wasteland...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I sat on the rocky mountain, wind stirring my hair, whittling through the eroded rocks. The stars twinkled in the sky and the moon cast ghostly silver light on the scene below. All of a sudden, the night sky lit up with purple, pink and blue. Ribbons of colour danced throughout the sky. The glow swayed over the mountain tops and Nyrit crooned as she tried to catch the colours snaking over the rocks at our feet.
Risha laughed at her dragon, and I smiled as I remembered Varil' curiosity after he had hatched. "Adonnija," I said suddenly, "What do dragons eat? Varil hasn't eaten anything I have given him, even refusing raw meat."
The man shifted, turning to me. "Usually, they cook their meat by scorching it with their fire, but dragons do not learn how to breath fire until their mother helps them. Seeing as your dragon's mother died before he hatched, this wouldn't be possible. Try now, see if he can."
I retrieved my dragon, who was chasing the lights, following Niryt. Taking off my pack, I dug around with my hand, finding the cool metal container that we had stored some raw meat in, for cooking at a later time. I pulled the lid off the tin, and picked up a piece of the meat. Putting it down in front of Varil, and held my breath. He pushed it around with his snout, then walked back a few steps. Fire shot forth from his mouth, hitting the meat. A few seconds later, he gobbled up the charred meat. I sighed in relief and stroked his head. He crooned, looking proud, and poked at the container, trying to get more.
Everyone laughed at his eagerness, but I looked back at the sky, my mind whirring with questions about those mystical lights. Where did they come from? What do they mean? How are they made? Maybe they are the spirits of a dragon and it's rider who passed long ago, and are now flying in the afterworld. Maybe they are the souls of people who are yet to be born.
After a few hours of rest, we decided to start the trek back down the mountain, as the wind had died down, and the weak morning sun was shining through the clouds. I walked around the wind-carved rocks, trying to find the path that we had come up through. A few minutes later, I saw the familiar carved out path, and the rope lying at the bottom of it. The rope was too far away to reach - the path was too steep - so I fastened my last rope onto a rock a bit further up.
"I've found it!" I shouted. Hearing the footsteps of my friends, I started fastening the rope around my waist. They caught up and followed my example with their own ropes I had given them after exiting the temple.
We started the slow descent down, the rough rope made our hands blister and the sharp rocks below our feet dug into our shoes. The descent was unhurried and arduous. Halfway down, the wind picked up again, attempting to push us off course and rip the rope from our hands.
Hi everyone! Thanks for reading this, and sorry its a week late! There's been two cases of COVID in my year so my schedule's just gone all over the place! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and feel free to vote or comment!
