Tag: fantasy

My entrancement with my improved night-vision dissipates when Astralux suddenly banks to the left to avoid a hissing blast of sand that pelts through the air. Pesokvglazu and Vladykar Lochan aren’t far behind. But at least this time they don’t seem to be gaining on us. Or rather, not as quickly.

“I wish I had a saddle,” Astralux pants. “Holding you like this slows me down.”

I curl my arms around her shimmering pale blue-tipped claws holding me, to help secure myself to her. Astralux’s brilliant white wings beat heavier as she climbs in the air. I look back in time to see Pesokvglazu inhaling.

“He’s…he’s…!” I still can’t get my words out.

What have I done?

I stare at the darkness below as the wind blows by so fast my eyes tear up. By the starry night and the waning crescent moon, I can barely see the rapids, almost a thousand meters below me. My fear has rendered me speechless, and I simply stare at it in disbelief.

The growling roar from above alerts me that Pesokvglazu is coming. I turn my head and just make out the light bronze-colored dragon swoop over the side of the cliff from which I had jumped. Upon his back rides Vladykar Lochan, still charred on the left side of his face, still glaring at me as they fly toward me. Pesokvglazu is fast—I can see why he said it was futile to jump.

But what else was I supposed to do?

I can’t believe it. War has begun with Klevor attacking Amenyl, without any warning. And we, the people of Inizion, are their first victory.

Led by Vladykar Lochan who rides a dragon. A real, breathing, light-bronze scaled dragon named Pesokvglazu, who watches us intently with his bright copper irises that fill his angled eyes.

Brushing an invisible speck of dust off his chainmail and leather mixed armor, Vladykar Lochan leans forward in his saddle, waiting for us to quiet. At last, he clears his throat. “First thing’s first,” he says. “Has anyone here seen a dragon before Pesokvglazu?” He gestures to the great beast he rides.

My eyes snap open as I wake, suddenly. I have no idea why, although somewhere in the back of my mind, I wonder if I had a nightmare. A quick glance around reveals I’m in my cot tucked in the corner of our one-room office and home. Privacy curtains made of bed sheets sewn together are drawn around all the cots, since they were the best extra beds we had in Inizion. The royal messenger and his bodyguards are fast asleep, recovering from the bandit attack. I look over to see Mom on her own cot, not far from mine, a couple of her gray-tinged blonde curls sticking out from underneath her blankets. She snores lightly. She only snores when she’s exhausted. Otherwise, everything is still.

All was well.

Despite the peace, I feel uneasy. I must have woken from a nightmare, and I just can’t remember the details. Oh, I’ve had many nightmares, some of which I remember. Most of them involved the small, peaceful town of Inizion burning up in flames. But the faint memories I have of tonight’s nightmare are different in a way I can’t explain.