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Sci Fi & Fantasy / The Dragon King (Analysis)
A chill wind blew across the plains. In the city, the festival of the Harvest Moon was coming to an end, little pockets of celebration could still be heard echoing down its’ streets. High on the walls, guards could be seen huddling around their watch fires, trying to draw a few moments of warmth before continuing their vigil.
From a high tower in the center of town a short figure could be seen gazing down on this small city he called home. He turns and enters his Spartan room; a single large bed, a chest and a desk with chair. Removing his clothes and tossing them on to the lone chair he walks to the bed. Instead of lying down for the night, he merely ruffles the sheets and throws the comforter to the floor. His golden eyes shine bright in the light of the many moons, his white hair glimmers with the hint of molten gold. He walks again to the ledge over looking the city and vanishes.
The sound of footsteps can be heard, a grunt as if someone were climbing the edge, then the rush of air and a wild cry of freedom. The sound of huge wings beating the air is all that can be heard in the distance as Avorix returned to his true dragon form and takes to the skies. Guards look up in wonder, not sure of the sound that they hear over their heads, like some large bat.
With the wind lifting him higher and higher into the air, he remembers a time just like this when he was master of the skies, once when he was young and lorded over a city….
A chill wind blew across the plains. But this was no natural wind, it seemed to have a mind of it’s own. It ran against the air, forcing the currents to change and buck. It pushed forward, coming off of a high cliff face to loom over a vast city beneath it. Pausing, as if a smile could cross its’ surface, the wind blew down onto the land, bringing it’s icy touch to everything it came to. Blades of grass bent and broke, shattering like glass. Trees snapped and splintered.
Within the city of Northrich, the people were all in celebration for the Harvest of the Fall Moons. This year the crops had yielded much and the food ran like water through the warehouses. As the night wore on, the crowd thinned and little pockets of the last revelers could still be heard in the alehouses. Upon the walls guards groaned and looked on the city with bitter resentment, being the unlucky few to watch over their beloved city even on such a beautiful night.
The wind came on, pummeling the stone walls, clutching at gates and knocking doors off their hinges. A guard turned and looked out over the plains, seeing a frost on the ground that wasn’t there a moment ago. Before he could wonder further, the wind came at him, freezing his blood and blowing him from the high walls. Like a statue of glass he fell and broke upon the ground, unnoticed by the few people about.
The Cold Mistress had arrived.
Nowhere was an alarm raised. No sounds but the shattering of bodies like crystals. And high in their tower rested the Gold Dragons. A mated pair rested upon their piles of gold and jewels, tails subconsciously drawing the wealth closer to their massive bodies. Bedded on smaller piles were their young, three wyrmlings, barely the size of horses, not yet golden of scale, more a yellow in hue.
Below them was a world of ice and snow. Buildings and homes disappeared in the onslaught, buried beneath yards of the stuff, looking like a cotton lake.
The male dragon lifted it’s head. Something had awoken him, something on the air. He sniffed and could smell the cold creeping up into his high place. Trying not to waken his brood, he lumbered over to his perch at edge of the tower. What he saw caused a wail of terror to escape his huge maw. Without a thought he threw himself into the air, rising quickly over the city.
Behind him rose the rest his family, confusion thick in the minds of the young. The female rose and went to the entrance of their abode, blocking the view from her children. What she saw brought a shudder to her long spine. Quickly, she turned and hurried her young to the rear of the chamber, ignoring their bemused cries.
“Quiet now!” she boomed in the tongue of Dragons. ”Quickly, hide and whatever happens, do not fight, run if you get the chance.”
Without another word she launched herself through the opening and took to the air, going to the side of her mate.
Once in the air, the two dragons watched in horror as the snows rose quickly, climbing up the walls of their tower.
“Get the young out of there now!” the male cried, “I’ll take care of this bitch myself.”
Without a word she dove, crashing through the roof of their home and shattering stone everywhere. ”To the air and not a word!” She clawed a wall down and pushed her precious children through. ”Fly west as fast and as far as you can, I will find you when all is safe.”
“But what is going on Mother?” one of the young asked, a tremor of fear at the confusing actions his parents had taken. ”Why must we run, what’s going on?”
Without explaining, she shoved the last of her young through the hole in the wall and watched as they took to the air. Sure that they were winging away, she flew to her mate’s side once again. Together, they crossed the plains to the high cliffs, reaching the peaks in the blink of an eye.
There, standing alone and wrapped in a frost white robe stood the Cold Mistress. Her hands were hidden within the folds of her clothing, arms intertwined within the sleeves. Only here eyes shone from her deep hood, eyes of pure malevolent white.
With a roar, the two dragons plunged to the ground, shaking the earth around them with their many tons of flesh, bone and scale.
“Stop this now!” the male commanded, a tendril of smoke escaping his mouth. ”Stop this now I said, and return to your icy prison!”
The Cold Mistress stood her ground, as if unconcerned with the death before her.
Not waiting, both dragons belched forth a cone of fire that melted the air.
For a moment the woman before them disappeared in the torrent of hellish flames. Once the smoke cleared, there she stood, untouched and unhurt. Her arms separated and revealed a small golden sphere in her right hand. From the hood, her cold smile shone upon her white teeth.
“Come to me.” She whispered.
The female fled, taking to the air. The male was locked rigid, his large head nodding hypnotically to the motion of the robed woman’s hand.
“Take your mate down.” The Cold Mistress whispered.
From a distance, the three young dragons saw a horror that they could not understand. They watched, unable to move, as their parents began to tear at each other, falling to the earth as a bloody mess. Without a though, the wyrmlings flew to their parents side, crossing the distance with powerful beats of their wings.
Two of the small dragons flew straight at the woman, slender spirals of flame licking at her robes. The other went to his mother’s side, his feet touching not the ground, but the piles of scales and flesh that his parents had ripped from each other.
“Mother” He cast about wildly, not sure of what to do.
The great female lifted her head, eyes torn from their sockets. ”Go,” she whimpered, “Go quickly you fools. She has the Orb and she will destroy you my brood.” Blood poured from her mouth, gurgling in her throat. ”Take your brother and sister far from here Avorix and never return.”
“But why?” the baby dragon tried to soothe his mother, tried to hold the fluids that flowed like a rushing river from her torn body.
With a strength born of motherhood, she pushed herself up, turning to face the Mistress. Her children were dead, throats torn from their necks, ichors still dripping from the hand of the Cold Mistress.
“Come to me little one.” Avorix heard her whisper, was drawn to her voice. ”Come here to me little one and feel my loving embrace.” The robed figure beckoned him with an outstretched finger.
“No!”
With the last of her strength, the mother dragon threw herself at the woman, tearing at her robes, biting and lashing, but to no avail.
“Run my child, Run!” she roared as magical energies crossed the ground, surged through the air. ”Don’t let us die here! Run damn it!”
Shaking his head, all Avorix could do was take to the air and fly as fast, as far as he could.
Behind him he could hear a cold laugh and the sound of an explosion….
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db_metallo reviewed Version 1 -
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brokenhand reviewed Version 1 -
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This could be the start of something good. I never quite understand why people post things on urbis that aren’t done, but I guess you just want some feedback as to whether or not you should persue this.
I would say persue it, but get into the action a little faster. I hate to say this but I was kinda bored, especially during the first page. There is nothing wrong with getting right to the point, you don’t need to set up this mythical world for us, just start it and we will follow suit.
Also – I really like your use of simile, “cotton lake” etc. And I think that you do a good job with the dialouge which is hard, so kudos.
One last thing, maybe elliminate words like “bitch” that are so much a part of our english vocabulary that there isn’t really even translations into other human languages, let alone dragon languages!
I am excited to see what becomes of it, nice effort, I love sci-fi…
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thefarmerswife reviewed Version 1 -
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DragonFire reviewed Version 1 -
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Wow. You pulled me in and captured me. I was entranced with this.
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