Dragon Kindred_And The Gyr Worshipers

by Marshall Drews

  Cold.

  It was getting cold and rather uncomfortable. Its sleep couldn’t last, it couldn’t rest much longer. The air was becoming thick, so much so that the dragon found it hard to breathe. A small gasp and another. Its world was becoming smaller and it was scared. It was dark and now soundless as the distant rumblings and roars died down with one final and familiar melody.

  He struggled a bit, rolling around in the small space that was his world. Suddenly it all shattered and he fell to the cold surface of the stone space, however it wasn’t all hard. He was surrounded by…prickly things. Crunchy things, but soft nonetheless.

  He could also breathe and uncurl and stretch his arms, legs and wings, but then he froze. There was a noise, a distant clanking and breaths of exertion. That was unfamiliar, the sharp anharmonic clicking and clanking. It gave no warmth as it approached, it sang no song that soothed the nerves, it brought nothing…but its own presence as it loomed in the blinding brightness of the great veil the dragon had already grown weary of.

  What was that thing? A darkened figure, tall and shimmering but black regardless. This drew the little being’s attention, but he coldly scolded it for it wasn’t the familiar presence he’d come to know that hummed its kind, caring melody all through his short existence.

  What was that now? The figure? It held something. It held a light, a soft glowing, a flame. This was… familiar and mesmerizing. However, he scolded it more, the dragon softly growling as it approached hardly audible but reverberant nonetheless. The figure looked around the cave, at shiny objects that caught the light and shot it back in all directions. However the tall, looming figure didn’t seemed pleased. It took another step forward and the little creature cowered away, growling defensively but threateningly as the figure unknowingly neared. Its claws tensed, its chest deepened and its belly broiled before it suddenly burst in defense.

  A fire erupted. The soft, crunchy things caught the fire and spread it across its soft dead leaves, from one to another, until the blaze had spread completely, encompassing the small figure whole. It was warm, it was soothing and familiar, reminding the dragon of that sweet presence that had fled shortly before the flames quickly faded into smoldering ashes.

  The tall figure hesitated, lowering its hand to rest it upon the shaft that hung in his grip. The fire subsided. The figure held his flame closer, a naked fire grasped in the palm of his hand, without a fuel source or torch to cling to. Here he saw the creature, and here the creature glared back menacingly with its yellow, piercing eyes, claws loosened, wings unfurled, legs locked and arms ready to strike. The dragon’s body as a whole tensed ready to pounce.

  Slowly and easily, so that he didn’t startle the little creature, the tall figure lowered himself to one knee, grasping the flame in his hand, bringing it closer to the smaller creature so that both might know one another.

  Quietly the little dragon glared, his instincts smoldering away, daring to catch fire and spread throughout and compel him to attack. However, it contained itself and continued to glare warningly at the tall, dark armored figure, warning it of his power and capacity to cause harm.

  However, the figure didn’t seem to shudder, let alone outwardly fear him. Instead it kept calm and easy as it stared back from behind a metal visor, not daring to break the intimate silence until that very moment.

  “Little dragon,” the figure suddenly spoke. This in turn caused the baby dragon to tense in defence, lowering himself even more with claws outstretched, teeth bared, tail waving, with a body ready to pounce. “Convince me now,” he said softly. “Convince me and justify your end this very moment. Prove to me the legends and sayings of dragons are true. That they cannot be tamed and that they are vile creatures with a thirst to kill and an appetite to slaughter.”

  The baby dragon knew not of what this creature said or spoke. Only that it was unfamiliar, save for the flame it grasped in its hand, the only justification for not having attacked so far. To this the baby dragon was drawn, but to that, that armored Cataphract…it was simply a stranger. But it didn’t falter nor flinch. What was this thing? What could it be?

  Again the figure spoke, with soft sounds that reverberated across the cave. “They now think your kin to be cold-blooded, and I’ve never slain one where tales once said it yielded to compassion. Likewise neither can I lest you prove yourself different.”

  With his other hand free of a flame, he raised it up and away from the dragon before clutching the visor upon his helmet. The baby dragon snarled, fearing an advancement. If this figure persisted the dragon would then pounce in defence and begin tearing away at the figure.

  However, the creature made no such move, and neither did the figure.

  The larger one spoke again. “Little dragon,” it softly began. “You face the gaze of death. Look upon your oblivion and recognise it is your end before I befall the blade upon your neck whereupon you attack me.” Slowly the hand clutching the visor rose. Within were the eyes, the gaze and the very face of the knight come to slay him.

  The knight named Venneith of Carthol, but known as the Burnt Armored Knight by many.

  There they faced off, each refusing to tear their gaze away, each tolerating the other’s presence until either proved the other wrong. Their competition lasted what felt like ages but it had only been a few moments. The early existence of the baby dragon grew longer and longer with each passing moment, becoming no smarter but slightly wiser in the presence of the knight.

  For the baby dragon may not have known, but he felt his impending destruction as he stared into the face of oblivion; the Armor Burnt Knight, Venneith of Carthol. His instincts, each and every last one of them, told him to lash out; to slice, to bite, to tear and rip, thrash and snarl. Yet he did not, for he felt the power and he sensed the danger, and slowly he began to know at heart that no matter what he did there would be no victory. Only destruction.

  Yet he still growled and bared his teeth, but as the time passed, his snarls and aggression subsided and slowly the baby dragon’s poise loosened before at once he became docile. Slowly the dragon lingered near the knight and its gaze shifted from his face to the flame as curiosity took hold of the beast, in place of aggression.

  Seeing this, the knight sighed with relief, whispering to himself as the dragon’s aggression relinquished. “Heh, seems man has lied then…” Leaning back, he supported himself with one hand as he kneeled on the ground to observe the baby dragon. “It seems you don’t hold the same aggressive fire-breathing, unyielding destruction as most say.”

  The baby dragon then reared up slowly to assure the knight it was without ill intent. It then let out a birdlike chirp as it stared sideways into the soft glowing flame the knight held and sustained within his grasp. There was something mesmerising about it, something familiar and deep. The way it flickered and licked at the air, giving off its soft glow so generously as well as its warmth. He…the dragon wanted to hold it.

  The baby dragon first reached out with its claw before it became seized in the hands of the knight himself. With an outstretched hand carefully grasping the forearm of the dragon, Venneith observed saying, “hmm…strong arms and decent claws.” His hand then released the dragon’s arm only to shift and lift its lips, revealing the razor array of the baby dragon’s maw. “Impressive-looking teeth,” he added. “Sharp, no doubt, and nicely aligned. Not to mention your tough-looking skin.”

  The dragon didn’t particularly like the knight’s prodding and so, with a low growl, it suddenly bit down upon the gauntlet rather suddenly. He attempted to gnaw away before pulling back after having yielded a bitter taste. He ran his tongue across his teeth, attempting to wipe away the blackened flakes, fastly shaking his head with vain effort.

  While the dragon was predisposed with ridding his maw of ash, the knight held the flame closer to get a view of the dragon’s head and back. Along its spine ran many bumps; its wings were strongly attached with wide bases that nearly connected together. Its tail was about the same
length as its body with a soft prong at the end. No doubt it would harden in the future. For now, the dragon’s scales were damp and glistened with a smoothness, covering the back half of his body as well as down his legs and forearms.

  The top of his head was flat. His snout was moderately sized and a few teeth jutted out from between his lips. His chin didn’t boast a grand mane of horns and neither did the lining of his jaw, nor the back end of his head where the neck began. He was rather smooth but, like his mother, Venneith guessed they’d grow in with age.

  The dragon persisted in cleaning his mouth of that awful taste before suddenly sneezing, causing his head to flick about. Miraculously this seemed to solve the problem and the dragon looked about again before his gaze fell back upon the flame that now was presented so close to him.

  Sensing its curiosity for the flame, the knight stretched out his hand to the dragon to let it see and observe more closely. He wondered what it might do; the dragon might try to consume, attack or try to do any number of things to the flame. However, the dragon surprised the knight when it slowly opened its claws, reached out and attempted to take the flame within his own hands to gaze at it in childish wonder. However, he couldn’t. It passed through as if it had gone untouched, yet the dragon persisted regardless.

  “Little dragon,” Venneith began, as he witnessed the dragon try and fail to manipulate the flame. “Deuth senses no fury within you. No hatred or anguish capable of attracting his gaze, granting you the ability to wield fire.”

  What was this…creature? he baby drake wondered as he carefully fondled the flame. It was a creature made of metal and chain, but it wasn’t one of song. Yet it gave the dragon the familiar sense of warmth and protection. It was…familiar to look at to say the least. The way it moved, the way it whispered and hummed. The way it looked to him moments after he hatched and was discovered. The moment they shared when they seemingly stared into one another’s soul.

  It startled the dragon to say the least, having succumbed to the natural subjugation that came with being in the presence of such a powerful beast. But at the same time it brought a little sense of peace and security knowing that this…thing… a human, as he’d come to learn, was his protector. Something he naively accepted as his mother after being presented with the warm, familiar feeling of flame.

  Said flame it gave too was fun. The way it glowed and danced between his claws. He savored the warm, inviting heat as he looked into the small blaze, gazing as deeply into it as his mother did him. The little dragon couldn’t explain it, but the flame felt natural and a part of him by some extension.

  “Nerr!” Venneith said aloud, causing the baby drake to leap back in fright. Venneith then clarified, saying, “Your name will be Nerr, little dragon.”

  Nerr didn’t understand the meaning of this, or what the knight spoke of. His language wasn’t taught or naturally known to the dragon, for he was just a baby and didn’t understand like any human baby would. However, Nerr could infer things and he began to curiously suspect that maybe, just maybe, nerr just might hold some meaning to it.

  However, before Nerr could begin to complain about the severe lack of flame in his grasp, his ears flicked as a particular sound emanated from beyond the threshold of greater light. It was a sound that pierced his hearing and made him shiver with fear as it rang throughout the cavern. Venneith also heard the sound and immediately turned away from the dragon to investigate.

  Nerr then became worried. His protector was leaving him in the cold, dark confines of the cave. He squawked for his attention, crying low at first before his pitch picked up. Only then did Venneith turn and usher Nerr to follow, but Nerr was too wary and lacked the knowledge to follow such a simple command. The bright light seemed scary and it seemed there was nothing that lay beyond its blinding brightness it.

  To Nerr the cave was his world, however brief his life had been, and Venneith was his one true companion. His protector, his mother. He cried again, begging him not to leave. But Venneith only shook his head with impatience before rushing out of the cave yelling something Nerr couldn’t understand.

  The baby dragon then cried again, louder, but nothing came. Not his protector, or anything else for that matter. He was alone and the darkness was the only companion left, along with the sound of commotion that resonated from beyond the threshold of great light.

  However, just as Nerr grew more fearful and timid of his surroundings, a scream and a shout pierced the darkness, bouncing all through the cave to startle Nerr from every direction. He jumped back towards the light, thinking it came from behind. Instinctively, fire erupted from his mouth in defence, briefly illuminating his surroundings.

  However, when he looked he found that nothing was there. Nerr, however, knew this to be false because of the wail he just heard. How could something appear so loud just behind him, only to vanish once he looked? What could it have been? Surly nothing less than a predator, a beast, a monster!

  And it was no longer there but lurking and continuing to wail and scream constantly.

  His protector! He’d fled the cave; he must’ve known there was danger and it lay within the darkness with Nerr. If his protector couldn’t combat such a foul creature then how could Nerr?

  He then began to fear the very essence of the darkness, turning his back on it in favor of the light. He noticed how it showed him more, whereas the darkness hid the world from him. The only world he had known. Surely the beast would not follow where it would become discovered and known to Nerr, and surely that is why his protector fled.

  With one final decision, Nerr bolted for the entrance, crying out and squawking as if the beast itself could be nipping at his very tail. The light grew greater, the darkness was banished, and as he burst beyond the blinding threshold his eyes clenched shut to the blinding light and he cried out again in great panic for the greatness of reality had consumed him.

  Chapter two

  The noise was no longer; Nerr left it behind in the cave where it dwelled alone. Yet still the dragon listened and he waited as the blinding light persisted, compelling him to keep his eyes closed. What did he hear? It was distant but piercing. It was a song, a sort of melody that rang out to Nerr. He called back, requesting aid. It was an attempt to replicate the tune, yet he did so poorly, but it was an effort nonetheless for the little dragon.

  There was something else too to be stated. It was a gentle push that rustled the landscape, that softly howled as it ran the course of the world with no true beginning or end. With it a soft crackling softly brushed against his body as it flew past, carried with the wind. Nerr then felt the protrusions beneath his claws. They were soft with a pleasant dewy wetness that cooled him down as Nerr sat there, bringing in the sensation of this new found world. Although he had only existed in this world for a very short time, Nerr already began to notice it had a certain order to it, a particular melody more like. One that came with the songs that were sung and blew in with the wind that coursed on by. It all culminated in harmony and peace.

  Nerr felt at peace, like this was where he belonged, but then he heard another sound. One not so natural, they were…noises…voices. No, it was his protector. Yes, thought the dragon, having remembered the sound of his words. It was his protector and he…talked with… another.

  Nerr wanted to see the world, wanted to see his protector. However, his tender, dull eyes stayed shut. He did want to open them and to finally know of these sounds and these smells, yet to do so was to let in the brightness that pierced through his eyelids as if demanding the light of the world enlighten him on its nature and existence. It scared Nerr. What if the revelation was too much for him? What if what was out there was truly scary? The dragon began to doubt and began to tremble, but then he felt again and heard again the feelings and sounds of the world and remembered once more how pleasant they truly were.

  Taking one last step into the world, he allowed one eye to open. The brightness was great, almost too great, as he would’ve guessed. Nerr couldn’t
see a single thing. It was almost like the darkness itself that hid everything in an eternal abyss of shadow never to be revealed or let known the secrets thereof. However, quickly Nerr realized that unlike the darkness that was a constant and an eternal state, the light was much kinder and lenient, even going as far as to banish the dark. It seemed too much at first and truly was for the baby dragon but, eventually, the light lessened and the world came into view.

  The first thing Nerr discovered was the sight of color. There was green, lots of it. It littered the ground and dressed the towering brown spires that touched the infinite blue and white sky. There were other colors too, like yellow, that sat above the pile of green, as well as one great yellow that hung with the white things drifting through the sky, only for them to soon hide the great brightness bringing the world to a slighter darkness.

  This scared Nerr for he hadn’t known how much the darkness would take hold of the sky or if the great brightness would come again, but soon, before he could even cry out, it did, and the lesser darkness was banished again bringing once more the greater light.

  With much wonder of the world taking hold of the dragon, Nerr forgot his protector for a brief moment simply to bound and leap within the grand land. However, as he toyed around with himself and the green and yellow things he found himself overtaken by a rather large shadow. It startled him as only darkness contained evil, and when he looked up he saw a black mountain lying before him.

  Nerr wasn’t quite sure what to think of it, only that it was best if he kept his distance. It worried him a bit and for that he called, out crying to his protector. He looked about, trying to find that blackened human in metal, and not too long after, he did. The man was standing over two other kin liken to his form. They even spoke the same tongue, seeming to communicate, or rather argue with one another.

  One of the two others bore himself on his knees while the other held his leg as he bore the same redness Nerr found within the world itself, sitting atop the green foliage like the wild dandelions. However, this redness wasn’t solid, nor soft like the roses, but leaking. Nerr kept his distance for a moment only to watch the three continue to communicate with one another for he was slow to trust these two new strangers.