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The Fall Trilogy
Book I - Manin
Prologue - A Trader's Tale
An icy wind swept around the ports of Narda, heavy with the stench of sea salt and spray. A small black line made its way down the side of one of the Mountains overlooking the town, heralding the return of the traders. As the line disappeared below the tree canopy and out of view, it meant that it would only be a matter of hours until the convoy at last returned, having been gone for most of the winter season.
Some time later, the group of people and carts, some pulled by horses, some by their owners, penetrated through the thick barrier of tall trunks that stood guard on the borders of the forest. The group passed quickly, eager to reach the smoke billowing softly over the hills toward them, mixing with the sharp tang of sea air, giving off the aroma they all associated so much with their home. This hastened their stride, and many raised voices began to break out along the convoy with Traders voicing their joy of finally returning, often met by numerous cheers of agreement.
Near the centre of the group was a small family, consisting of a little boy, only one and naught years of age, his Mother, Father, and the small family horse. They did, of course, have the money to buy a bigger, stronger, and younger horse, but the old mare had been with the family longer than the boy, and it would not be through wiling consent that the horse would be discarded. Marn, for that was her name, was as close to family as any animal could be. She had ferried the couple, and later the young lad, up and down the trade route and through the spine for many years, and was still utterly reliable. She was small; her head only drew up to shoulder height, and her ears only just above that. Her flank was a milky chestnut colouration, with dulled white spots dotted around the belly and back, but her head was pure white with a small brown oval on one cheek. She whinnied her affection as the young boy, Thoran, stroked her side. He patted her down to her back leg, and loosened the straps that held her to the cart slightly, allowing her an extra comfort now that they were so close. He was excited to be back, and a broad smile had broke unbidden across his small face as he saw the usual smoke rising, eager as he was to return home. His Mother watched him, affection only a Mother can have for her child written all over her features as the young boy laughed and ran around. She looked up at her husband, how shared similar signs of contentment and happiness. They smiled warmly at each other and kissed as they walked. A small voice of dismay broke them apart, and they both turned to see young Thoran pulling his face. They both laughed, and despite the horror of having to watch his parents kiss, Thoran laughed too. They carried on talking and laughing all the way back to the village, the time passing swiftly, like water running calmly but quickly down a fresh mountain spring.
***
It was another hour or so before the group finally reached the town gate, and they were greeted with warm cheers and cries of ‘Welcome back!” or, “Hope the trip went well!” A sizable crowd gathered to hear of the stories the traders had to tell of their voyage, with excitable gasps or exclamations emitting from most people assembled. And rightly so, as there had been some particularly hair raising experiences during the journey, not least of all a rouge band of brutish Urgals that were sighted out upon the flat ground between Daret and Utgard less than a league and a half out, not three days after they had set out to return home. This was troubling news to most, but doubts were reassured when the Traders informed the towns people that naught but half a day had past before a legendary Dragon Rider and his Dragon appeared to deal with the threat to the Trader’s convey! Because the ground was flat and the Traders had begun to enter the high ground, they had a perfect view of the surrounding area, and they all watched with mouths agape as a great golden Dragon descended from the heavens, the mighty beast of Vroengard bellowing fire at an unbelievable distance. The earth was scorched with it’s rage, and almost all of the Urgals were burnt to oblivion upon the Dragon’s first pass. The beast banked round and returned, skimming low to the ground, and as the Dragon made ready to pass over the group a second time, it’s Rider leapt from it’s back, to land amongst the still burning flames. The Traders watched as the remaining Urgals, some twelve brutes and five gigantic Kull, closed in around the Rider. The Dragon landed now, and began to tear into the twelve Urgals, whilst it’s Rider drew a gleaming golden sword and bellowed a war cry. The Kull all charged, but the Rider plunged his weapon into the ground and cried out in a language the Traders didn’t recognise. All five of the brutes fell, and the Rider quickly plunged his sword into two of them whilst they were still stunned on the ground.
Meanwhile, the Dragon was making quick work of the Urgals, having dispatched seven of their number already, and only picking up one or two minor scratches in the process. It roared, and the ground shook with anger.
The Rider was now fighting against the remaining three Kull, his sword a whirl of gold, as he parried and danced out of reach of the Kulls vicious, sluggish swings. He found himself within the guard of one, and stabbed his blade into the beast’s chest, again speaking in a strange language, and the Kull flew backwards off the Rider’s sword and collapsed in a convulsing heap several feet away. The beast eventually fell still, it’s face contorted in a death snarl. The Rider did not bear witness to any of this however, as he immediately spun round to parry one of the Kull’s axes, and to duck and roll away from the other’s sword. He threw out his left hand, and once more spoke in the strange language. The two Kull both dropped their weapons and clawed at their eyes, waves of rage and agony crashing over them. It looked as though they were trying to remove something from their eyes, but if that was the case, it appeared that they were succeeding more in actually removing their eyes. Both creatures bellowed with pain and fury, but the cries caught in their throats as they both found their vocal chords had been slashed. They looked down, eyes bloody, scratched and unfocused, faces confused, to vaguely see their life blood pouring from their necks. The Rider has ceased his magic upon their eyes, and in one clean move, had slit both of the monster’s throats. They gurgled like ugly, overgrown babies as both fell to the floor, the life slowly draining out of them.
The Rider looked round, to see his Dragon sweep the remaining three Urgals off their feet, throwing them high into the air and then letting loose a blast of pure golden fire, the flames melting skin on bone within seconds. The creatures fell to the floor lifeless.
The Rider sighed, and sheathed his sword. Even to protect the innocent traders, he didn’t like to kill. But if he had to make the choice again, he would, because it was necessary for the Trader’s survival. He looked up as his Dragon wandered over, and he patted his snout affectionately. After a few minutes, he mounted his steed again, and the pair flew swiftly over the flats toward the convoy. They landed at the head, to cries of wonderment and fear. He stepped down from his Dragon, and spoke loudly, “My name is Oromis, and this is-“
His Dragon, Glaedr. We are proud to protect you.
The voice echoed around the assembled trader’s heads, and they all stopped with amazement as the Dragon brushed their consciousnesses.
“We were called to protect you after we heard reports of a band of Urgals were roaming these flats. It was lucky we arrived when we did, it appeared as though the Urgals had not yet caught your scent, but it would only have been a matter of time before they saw your convoy.” The Rider, Oromis, proclaimed, his voice calm and friendly.
The Dragon, Glaedr, spoke again, his deep voice rumbling through the gathered minds, Who is in charge of this pack?
Eran, one of the best smithies in the spine, stepped forward. He was a large man, his back and arm muscles very prominent as a result of his career, but even he seemed small compared to the might of the Dragon and his Rider. He cleared his throat and began to speak clearly, but despite himself, his voice cracked a few times, “I am, most noble Glaedr. I lead the group for most of the journey, and-“
Yes, thank you. Glaedr said, a small hint of impatience creeping into his voice, Eran, we will continue to watch over you until you reach the peaks past Utgard. At which time, we will peel away and leave you in the hands of the Mounatins. You will make it from there?
Oromis added, “Understand we would accompany you further, but we have important duties which require our immediate attention. We apologise-“ Glaedr snorted softly, a small amount of smoke escaping from his nostrils. To the assembled crowd, it did not appear to be anything, but Oromis could sense his Dragon’s irritation. He continued regardless, “but we have to go once you reach Utgard.”
Eran, nodded, and spoke uncertainly, “Aye, Mighty Rider, we are grateful for even that small distance. We do not wish to keep you from your business, but we greatly appreciate any protection you offer us, O’ Great One.” He said, bowing. What the Smith and other Traders didn’t see was Oromis turning to Glaedr and rolling his eyes. He remained sincere however, and spoke for the final time.
“So, we will begin our watch then. Do not worry about sleeping in the open; you shall be safe from all threats.” And with that, the Rider mounted his Dragon, who took of immediately. The trader’s were buffeted by the force of Glaedr’s wings driving the wind down, until he found an updraft and began to gain altitude.
And so ended the Trader’s tale. The gathered town’s people slowly dispersed, and Thoran, his parents and Marn began the short walk back to their home. Thoran’s parents talked about how much they had made during the trip, pulling Marn along with them. The old mare seemed eager to reach her stable, her mind no doubt filled with thoughts of rest and food.
Whilst they walked ahead, only one thing occupied small Thoran’s mind. Little did he know that his wish was soon to be granted…
***
Two weeks had passed since the Trader’s had arrived back home, and the town had finally settled back down into its normal routine. Everything was normal once more.
And then an ear shattering roar broke out over the mountains, signifying the arrival of four huge beasts. They were but blurs, flashes of Green, Black, Blue and Orange soaring over the mountains.
The Dragon Riders had come, once more, to Narda.
***
Galius yawned, and woke slowly. He raised his head slowly, and gingerly opened his eyes. Thoran was asleep against his chest, small chest rising and falling softly. Thoran had grown since that memory. He stood considerably taller now, around 5’ 11”. Short brown hair adorned his head, and his ears had an ever-so-slight point to them. His Rider was well built, but he still reminded Galius of the small boy he had once been.
Thoran twitched and opened one dark green eye. Observing his Rider waking, Galius leaned forward and nudged him affectionately with his snout.
Good morning little one. That was quite a dream. I look forward to the next time we sleep.
“Aye,” Thoran spoke out loud, standing and stretching his arms above his head, “We’re almost reaching your part.” He shook his head to clear it of sleep. “Even after the amount of dreams we’ve had together, I still find it a strange sensation when we wake.”
The pair had recently begun sharing dreams, experiencing past memories in chronological order with perfect clarity. It was a sign that their bond was growing stronger, even more so than it already had during the past fifteen years.
Well, I suppose we’d best-
“Report to Master Stevend and Master Iormúngr? Aye, he’ll be expecting us soon. I hope we run into Elder Oromis today. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to hear we remembered his fight with the Urgals.”
Or perhaps not. You know how he feels about killing, Little One, he much less needs to be reminded of past scraps. Scolded Galius.
“I suppose so. But it might brighten his mood when he learns I was in the convoy, and that he was protecting me.” Thoran suggested.
I will say no more. It is your memory, so I will not stop you telling him. I have said my piece.
“I know my friend. I know.” Thoran sighed, and then rubbed Galius’s side. The White Dragon growled his appreciation, and then the pair walked out of their quarters and into the bright, dawn light, the sky painted with pink scars, light purple splashes, and bright orange smudges.
Comments and criticism welcome! Although as I’m still fairly new, I’d ask if you can not be totally brutal with criticism, but I do still welcome it. Thanks, and let me know what you think!
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It kinda hurts your eyes you know... also, your whole text is italic.Fix that please.
.The description was surprisingly good for your first attempt at a fanfic, though the start was not that interesting, but I'm sure a surprise will await for us soon.Another question would be regarding the entrance of Oromis and Glaedr into the scene.It was almost out of nowhere, and it happened so fast!
See you around, and good job with this first chapter!
However, the reason it's in italics is to signify that it's a dream, or a thought. I'm used to using itallics for that.