Dragon Kindred_And The Gyr Worshipers

by Marshall Drews

  In doing so, the bird’s indignant nature turned to one of uncertainty and slight curiosity. Nerr then refined his effort in replicating the song, this time throwing in some swagger of his own by unfurling his wings and tossing his head from side to side with every note. After a nearly perfect performance the bird let its guard down and played another song, this one Nerr replicated rather finely after a short time too.

  It seemed he was about to make a friend, but a friend was the last thing Nerr was after. His devious plot was nearly coming to fruition. Soon, very soon, just a little longer. What did birds like, the dragon thought. Sticks perhaps? Fortunately there were plenty of them in the forest, as one could imagine, however, being a dragon, Nerr had a natural eye for vain items. Sticks where all too common and so were apples as well as flowers.

  He’d need something of great value. Something…shiny. Yes, shiny. But what did Nerr know that was shiny? His protector, Nerr thought! He had plenty of shiny things hanging about his person. Perhaps if he could just borrow something… but Nerr began to ponder and then he began to realize the lateness of his conundrum. Surely the knight by now would be far gone, and returning to him only to once again venture away back to the nest would surely mean Nerr would be lost before long.

  But then Nerr looked to the nest past the bird. He noticed it was indeed made of wood. Chirping, he realized that perhaps a stick really was all the bird needed to gain its trust. Just a little twig should do really.

  Yes, yes! Just a twig, Nerr thought.

  Throwing his head up excitedly he chirped a few notes before latching onto the very branch he stood upon. He clamped on with his jaw, refusing to let go as he thrashed his neck about determined on snapping it with his teeth.

  The branch creaked and it cracked and it gave a little, but Nerr still hadn’t quite grasped the concept of good positioning. As a result, it wasn’t long before the branch snapped, falling to the forest floor below, leaving Nerr to follow suit and crash soon after.

  In a panicked daze Nerr let out a fearful cry, looking to the bird for help. It chirped back at him before fluttering to the branch nearest to the forest floor. It seemed to Nerr that the bird did indeed have some concern for the little black dragon. That was good, at least Nerr knew he’d gained the bird’s trust through his own childish antics and naivety.

  Picking himself up, Nerr shook himself off and gathered up his senses. It was no worry, all he would do is climb back up the trunk and perhaps battle the bird when it least expects it. The prize would be his, all his, and he could return to Venneith with another grand tribute to offer. Yes, yes, everything was perfect, thought the dragon before he suddenly froze as fear inexplicably took hold of the beast.

  He couldn’t quite tell why he suddenly felt the way he did as he was still a very young dragon who wasn’t quite in touch with his body, mind and nature. Yet something within warned him of danger. He didn’t know how to react, all he could do was focus with his hearing as well as his smell and make next to no movement whatsoever until…there…

  Directly behind him, he picked up a sound and he felt something begin to prowl slowly. He could feel it in the dirt; a light, soft approaching of a being of greater size than the dragon. However, although he sensed the danger on many different levels, Nerr couldn’t bring himself to move. Everything within him told the dragon to stay still and to not give purchase of any kind.

  His eyes shifted and in the corner of his vision, he spotted it. A beast of fire as could be described as its fur was red like the flare of the morning sun against the sky. It stalked the dragon, teeth visibly barred, whitened and sharp. No doubt those canines were shaped to rip and tear away at skin and flesh.

  It approached the dragon, each step it eerily made each seemed as though it were a carefully calculated advancement, not one paw misplaced or a stride out of beat. It circled Nerr, observing the little dragon just as Nerr began to size up the beast slowly and carefully, spreading his wings to get a better read on its height, width and length.

  When it lingered in full view of the dragon, Nerr took more notes. He noticed the red bushy tail, the black muzzle and fur around its face. Its orange, piercing eyes and small, fragile frame indicating to Nerr that this was a beast that lurked in the shadow and clearly wasn’t meant to battle beasts head on, at least not the bigger ones, unfortunately for Nerr.

  However, after sizing up the beast and slowly folding his wings back up, Nerr listed his advantages. Erm…wings…he had wings. The beast, on the other hand had teeth, yet so did Nerr. It was taller and stronger than the dragon, which undoubtedly would win this beast the fight as well as looking, and no doubt being, more agile than little Nerr which meant the dragon wouldn’t be fleeing anytime soon.

  Yet Nerr didn’t let his helplessness get to him. In fact where worry and fear should’ve taken hold, another feeling began welling up within him. Anger. It was almost fiery, the dragon hardly could stand this fiend’s prowling and strutting. Nerr didn’t like being sized, he didn’t like being preyed upon and he very much didn’t like being barred from a good meal.

  The fox faced the dragon, both now baring their teeth each for the other to see. Nerr no longer froze in fright, he thawed in fury and he prowled low to the ground, tail up, head down and wings apart. He was ready to battle, he was equipped to kill and he hungered for victory.

  The first to make the move was the fox. It leapt forward, striking out with its paw, smaking Nerr across the face. Its claws would’ve bored deep into the dragon if it wasn’t for Nerr’s durable scales, however the fox now had the advantage over Nerr and he fastly clamped down upon the neck of the dragon, pinning him to the grass with his teeth.

  The fox thrashed and tightened his maw and he would’ve torn too. However, Nerr never felt a tearing or a sharp pain. Instead, all he felt was intense pressure, pressure that by itself wasn’t very harmful but all the same very uncomfortable.

  Suddenly Nerr rolled himself, snarling and lashing out with his claws while also attempting to find purchase with his teeth. However his eye-mouth coordination was still quite poor in his adolescent state so he only managed to bite the air, yet it mattered not for his efforts weren’t without reward. There on its foreleg the fox bore a cut and bled deeply. It seemed Nerr had struck his target and he hungered for more.

  Fortunately the fox seemed eager to attack and it came again, but this advancement was only a bluff. It stopped short of Nerr before bounding back, causing the dragon to fall forward in an attempt to counter-attack, but the dragon compensated by aimlessly flailing in all directions. This kept the fox at bay, carefully calculating his next attack, but where the fox aimed for precision the dragon only cared for raw power and force.

  The dragon yelped in fury and struck the dirt in a show of strength, and barked, and snarled, and growled and made other aggressive, dragonly noises in an obnoxious effort to startle the fox and deter its advancement. Where Nerr thought he was mighty as he valiantly battled the beast, the fox thought differently and looked oddly to the dragon, seeing Nerr as more of a nuisance than a valid threat.

  Regardless, the fox had to show this little beast what for. He raised a paw, intent on smacking the dragon again. However, Nerr saw the wind-up and projection of its attack. If his keen calculations were correct it would swipe him across the cheek in a linear projection. With this in mind, Nerr moved to intercept with his carefully planned and calculated counter-attack.

  First he opened his jaw, tilted his head and caught the paw between his teeth. Truly the technique of a seasoned hunter, Nerr even doubted any other beast or kin could’ve performed so tactfully as he. This was the pinnacle of combat, the ultimate technique and the determining move that simply spelled defeat for any caught in its path.

  For now that was only the fox, and Nerr gave no reprieve as he thrashed his neck and locked his arms and claws around the body of his assailant. Desperately the fox tried to pull away, tried to usher the dragon off of him as it begged for mercy. Yet Nerr knew not the lan
guage of beasts no more than he did the language of man, for he was still too young and naive.

  The dragon felt every crunch, tasted the bittersweet blood and drove his attacker into the ground. Its neck became exposed and all too instinctively the dragon latched on, baring its fangs into the soft delicate flesh of the fox like it had done him. The fox had chosen its battle, and now it lay a victim of its own rash decision as it slowly suffocated and bled to death.

  The baby dragon was victorious, yet he never hungered for the meat of the fallen. True, the blood was something to be savored like the blood of man he had a brief taste of, or the blood of fish which he ate. What he actually hungered for was eggs and fruit, but Nerr remembered he needed a tribute to give to his protector. The fox was too big to haul away but Nerr’s eyes had a natural talent in spying valuable items as dragons are famous for. Things of actual worth.

  The tail…yes, the tail would suffice very nicely, very finely. It was a beautiful piece of skin, the dragon thought. It was elegant, neat, but most of all untouched from the carnage of battle. That was until Nerr removed it, partly dirtying it with blood. Still it was whole, albeit with less of a clean cut.

  Nerr stored this in his claws and turned his attention to the tree. It seemed the bird watched everything yet it never intervened. It really showed its loyalty to the dragon after having just tricked it into becoming friends, subsequently causing it to lower its guard, but Nerr had yet another idea.

  Holding up the tail, he offered it up to the avian to use as it deemed fit. Happily the bird bought Nerr’s act of charity and fluttered to the ground to make the exchange, only Nerr had other intentions.

  The fight wasn’t long as Nerr had become more experienced with the taking down of beasts. With two encounters’ worth of experience he knew very well to go after the neck, like he did the magpie and the fox did him, and like Nerr did to the fox. The neck was a soft, delicate piece of the body and once he latched on it wasn’t long until the bird stopped moving.

  That’ll show it what for for not helping with the fox, thought the dragon. How dare it lure him into a false sense of friendship only for it to abandon him in his time of need? That selfish bird, thought Nerr. At least the baby birds were delicious, that greedy thing, hogging up all the natural food, no doubt ready to eat it himself and share nothing with the dragon.

  However, by now time was of the essence. No doubt the Armor Burnt Knight had traveled far while Nerr was preoccupied with the hunt. Returning to him would no doubt test the dragon’s keen navigational skills and senses. Something he was unknowingly reluctant to prove himself on as it came all too naturally for the dragon.

  First he relocated the knight’s last known position with ease. Nerr knew exactly which direction he had come from, having no need for sight or smell yet using it anyways. After he found the path he then turned his snout skyward, picking up on the all too familiar stench of that knight and the beasts.

  Then Nerr did what any little dragon would do. He bounded down the path on all fours, excitedly intent on catching up to his protector. The smell itself was faint, indicating he had gone a long way, but Nerr had only ventured on his own and back in a total of eighteen and a half minutes and using this measurement Nerr quickly began estimating speed and distance. Throwing together a quick calculation, Nerr made the assumption that if they were traveling four miles an hour on horseback then they would’ve traveled at least one and one-fifth of a mile.

  The calculation was indeed fast, however, although distance was illustrated in miles the same way time was represented as minutes, hours and seconds, Nerr didn’t know or even use these systems. Instead he followed his own internal clock and measured distance by the energy of the world. This was why the dragon could always find his way back to any previous location like doves and pigeons to their homes and nests. His skill in navigation was keen, natural and beastly.

  His little venture down the dirt road, however, would reveal his calculations to be incorrect, but for good reason. In the distance, he first smelled before sighting a small group of beings, humans to be precise, and expunged any mystery. Nerr counted three in total, one lay in the middle of the road bleeding and dying. The other two were singed and burned across both their clothing and skin yet nowhere near death.

  On approach Nerr slowed his stride in curiousness, intent on investigating these strange…strangers. None bore the burnt armor of his protector nor the cotton armor of his accomplice. They donned simple hides of fur and leather, they bore weapons that lay on the ground, scratched and abused.

  “You idiots,” one of them chastised. “That was a knight! Do you not have eyes?”

  “Y-you gave us the command,” the other burnt but still lively man said.

  “I said don’t attack. Don’t Attack!” he angrily clarified. “Do you also not have ears? We could’ve died!”

  “W-we almost had ’em,” the dying one protested. “J-just a little longer I-I think.”

  The first only threw his hands up in annoyance. “I’m dealin’ with idiots. Every last one of them an idiot. That armor,” he began in great anger and impatience, “is impenetrable. Plated steel! Do you not know what that is? We’d need an Armor-Slaying Sword, a damn war hammer at the very least to even dent it! Now look at us. That damn knight was Venneith! Venneith! ou ever hear of him?”

  Both the other men fell silent as they began to mull over the name as if it might ring a proverbial bell.

  Then the dying one was the first to come to an answer. Tilting his head up with a curious look he half answered but mostly asked, “you mean the knight th-that can… control fire?” The first stubbornly shook his head while the second and dying man donned the look of enlightenment.

  “Oh, can’t he like…light his armor on fire?” Again the first stubbornly nodded his head. “Oh…I’ve heard of him. Quite an impressive knight really.” Clearly he really was dying, finding it hard to grasp onto reality and find himself in the moment.

  “I’m telling you we nearly had him,” the second man assured.

  “Really?” he challenged. “So I’m assuming when he disarmed you in one hit everything was still in your control?”

  “Well…”

  The next was directed at the dying man. “How about when you attacked from behind only for him to not even take notice every time you hit him until that foreigner pointed you out?”

  “Err…”

  “How about when he threw fire at us? What then?” Neither responded, though it seemed the dying man, in that instance, became the dead man…“A-a-a-and h-his follower. He only stood there with the horses!”

  “I assure you he was afraid. He retreated! I’m sure of it!”

  Shaking his head, the first gripped his own head in anger and frustration. “That’s it! That’s It! You’re out of the job! Neither of you have what it takes to turn a profit! And here I thought we could march on over to Voros once we succeeded. What a dream, what a stupidly outlandish dream!”

  “What?” went the second man.

  “Get out of my sight, I won’t have any more of this!” Turning his back from the second man. the first suddenly jumped back, letting out a sheer scream of terror as he pointed and shouted, “What’s that?”

  Catching the first man in his arms, nearly toppling them both over, he looked over his shoulder and saw the little black baby dragon sitting in the road, observing them with wonder. “It’s a…it’s an overgrown bat lookin’ thing,” he said cluelessly.

  Then the first man remembered. ‘I’ll give you mercy, you pathetic bunch, but do me a favor. If you see a baby dragon, do not harm it, for if you anger it will surely tear you to shreds.’

  “Th-th-th-that’s it!” the first shouted in terror. “That’s the dragon! J-just stay back and act calm.”

  “C-can’t dragons sense fear?” he asked curiously.

  With the fox tail clutched his hand, Nerr suddenly spotted something shiny reflect into his eye. It was adorned on the first man’s body and Nerr suddenly
felt as though he wanted it, but he couldn’t just take it. Those Venneith-like men were much bigger and the ensuing combat would surely lead to Nerr’s destruction, but Nerr thought for a moment and he had a bright idea indeed!

  He bartered, and held up the fox tail while bounding forward two times.

  “Ah! It’s gonna kill us!” The first man shouted. “What do we do? What-do-we-do!”

  “The gold, sir!” the second suggested. “Give ’em your gold!”

  He wasn’t likely to disincline when his life was on the line. Thinking quickly the man undid the silver latching on his coin purse before throwing fingerfuls of gold at the dragon. The coins landed all about the place, fixating Nerr’s fascination on the golden pieces immensely.

  They were so…so shiny. Some not as shiny but most very shiny indeed. His natural sense in shiny items told the dragon these…these gold pieces, these shiny things, far exceeded the fox tail in worth. If this was the deal these humans were willing to make then by all means the dragon would take all that he could.

  “Quick, it’s distracted, let’s get out of here!”

  And they were never seen again, at least by the dragon directly.

  Meanwhile, Nerr began taking the coins, raking them between his claws and piling them up in a small golden pile. There were six in total, a good amount if the dragon could say so himself, which judging by his physiology – jaw, teeth and tongue – he truly couldn’t. However, he wasn’t quite sure how to transport these gold pieces. His claws weren’t as fine as fingers which meant the golden pieces would surely slip from his grasp, but then Nerr thought of a clever idea.

  If anything showed Nerr what the best, most useful and functional attribute about him was, the answer would be his mouth. Time and time again it proved its worth in eating, hunting and killing. With this in mind the dragon began eating the gold coins, one at a time until all six were safely swallowed and stored away within him.

  Although those men seemed nice and reluctant to trade such valuable items with Nerr, the little dragon still had his protector to catch up to. They were nice to say the least, and the third slept soundly, but Nerr continued on, leaving him with a reluctant chirp, splaying his wings in thanks before bounding away at top speed and as fast as his four limbs could carry him.