In Times Of War – Esther Minns
Disclaimer: Twilight and all affiliated characters are the property of Stephanie Meyer and Atom Publishing House. All events and characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to actual people or events, other than those clearly in the public domain, is purely coincidental.
A/N: Well, well, here we are. What started as a humble contest entry is now being extended to…umm…something resembling a story. I HAVE CHANGED THE ORIGINAL CONTENT; however, if you want to take a peek at the original, it is available via the Enchantments Contest page. Otherwise, Happy Reading.
If there is one thing I have learned, it's that to be invincible, you have to be without mind, body and soul. In other words, no one is without weakness, however small, and every weakness can be exploited.
By the time I was born, some seventeen or eighteen years ago, the war had already been raging on for nearly a century. In millennia to come, it would be called The Other War: the war fought by nearly every supernatural creature and immortal being on earth. It was a battle for dominance between two collective groups. Both sides had a vast arsenal of creatures behind it and battles were waged on every front: land, sea and air.
Unfortunately, whilst humans were not directly in the line of fire, no Other felt a shred of remorse if they killed a human who got in the way or didn't get out of the way fast enough. Some humans sided with the Others, but they were often killed too, forfeiting their lives for those whom they pledged allegiance.
I was a mere five months old when my mother was carried off by faeries during a melee in out back garden. Gnomes had erupted out of the ground whilst the fae sat in trees and used their magic to make the trees attack the gnomes. I had just turned seven when my older sister, Angela, was killed in the middle of a battle between harpies and merfolk after we got pushed off a cliff.
My father, Charles, had saved me both times, pulling me from the arms of a faerie and diving in after Angela and I. Angela was mistaken for a mermaid in her skirts and plucked out of the sea by one of the vicious harpies but father managed to get me out of the deadly, watery battleground and run to the safety of the trees.
He was a very intelligent man, keeping us safe and fed by making weapons for humans to defend themselves with. He taught me to use each weapon well, from the elegant Centaurean recurve bow, to the many deadly cavalry sabres he fashioned. Together, we dispatched a number of rouge creatures the wandered into villages and harmed humans. We also protected humans when the war erupted around them, fending off creatures of both sides.
The people of nearly every village allowed him to use their blacksmith quarters because the art of fashioning weapons over the years had become crude and weak. My father's weapons were a precious commodity. However, we never stayed anywhere long enough to call it home.
It was late one evening, long after I had retired, that something woke me from my slumber. I still to this day do not know if it was a noise that woke me, or if something deep within me recognized the imminent threat. Whatever it was though, threw me bolt upright out of a deep slumber.
We were staying in a big old barn that had been abandoned, equipment left in a state of near disrepair. Father and I slept up in the loft upon old bales of hay covered in canvas with our blankets on top. I pulled on my dark breeches and grabbed my sword from where it lived beside my bed, buckling the scabbard hastily around my waist. I then crept over to the landing or the steep rickety stairs on my hands and knees.
I couldn't help smiling as I recalled how father had once said it was more apt for a girl to wear a dress, rather than the breeches that I was so fond of. I had replied that it would take too long to get a dress on if we were fighting in the middle of the night and I highly doubted he wanted me fighting without any clothing on. He quickly agreed.
Agilely, I sprang like a cat down the old stairs, careful to avoid the ones that I knew would creak or groan under my weight. Gripping my sword more tightly, I opened the door and stood awed by the sight in front of me.
The moon bathed the scene in a ghostly light, leeching the colour from it. A magnificent black dragon was silently beating its wings to come to a graceful landing in the yard before folding them flush against its body. The black scales seemed to glow almost silver under the moon, which was a mere slither away from being full.
I was unable to move, entranced by the majestic sight. In these times, dragons were few and far between, having deserted the cause when the war broke out. They proclaimed that the greed and selfishness of every race was foolish and that they must figure it out between themselves.
To see one in real life was awe-inspiring. I stared until something dropped off the back of the dragon, landing gracefully on its feet. Ducking back into the shadows, I waited for the figure to pass by me into the barn.
He paused momentarily and looked around, as if sensing my presence, before continuing inside. I thanked the gods that it was early summer and the nights had lost their bitter chill, allowing me to stay outdoors without freezing.
I peeked cautiously inside and tried not to gasp at what I saw. Father was awake, clothed and already lighting lamps around the barn, gesturing for the rider to take a seat at our little table. As he turned, I could make out more of the strange man's features.
He had tousled bronze hair that looked like it had spent too long in the wind and was quite a bit shorter than the current shoulder length fashion. He had a handsome face with high cheekbones and a strong jaw, much like the dragon he rode. He was clothed in tight fitting pants that tucked into leather boots and a tight leather vest over a dark shirt with loose sleeves and leather riding gloves. He had an air about him that hinted of danger; some faint warning that ran beneath the skin, just out of the grasp of conscious recognition.
"I trust your family is well," said father, tinkering around, gathering things from the workshop and placing them together.
"Indeed," replied the man smoothly. "Carlisle sends his regards and Rose passed on her thanks for the armour. Alice often wears the leg braces you made and Jasper is looking forward to the new pair of cuffs: he wore out his last pair sparring with Emmett."
"And your saddle?" asked father, packing things in a large, unfamiliar bag that the rider had handed him.
"Still holding strong," he continued, taking the bag from father. "Esme insists that it is polished after nearly every time I ride, despite the fact that it has spells keeping it perfect."
It took all my will not to hiss at the word 'spells', for in all my experience, I had not seen one that was used for good. From what I could see, the bag that father handed the rider contained a large bundle of long arrows, two swords, a belt of very delicate daggers, a pair of hardened leather vambraces, and a long, extendable rowan staff, reinforced with metal plating. I also noticed that the rider already wore a sword, as well as quite a few other weapons that I wasn't familiar with.
"I thought Alice or Rose might like the daggers," said father, smiling at his creations. "They're light and razor sharp so be careful."
"Aren't we always," said the man, the bag suddenly disappearing in his arms, causing me to start. "How are you faring?"
"As well as could be expected," answered father, a look of sadness in his eyes. "Bella is not yet of age and already they haunt me. The Elfish Queen told me that if she did not take her place by her eighteenth birthday, then the guard would come and take her away or kill her." His voice broke and tears began to well in his eyes.
"She would not survive long, is she were taken anyway," replied the man, a sad look on his beautiful face. "The queen protested her birth in the first place and showed nothing but malice for her over the years. If Isabella knew how many attempts had been made on her life, she would live in fear."
I leant in, trying to hear more of the story. It was obvious that they were hiding something from me and keeping secrets regarding the past. I was about to creep in to the barn itself when something warm and damp nudged at my neck. I turned to find myself face to face with the scaly black dragon that had landed in our yard.
My heart thundered in my chest as I backed up, my tongue seemingly glued to the roof of my mouth in fear. The dragon's nose pressed against my own and I stopped breathing immediately, my back literally against the wall. I felt the smooth hard scales on the tip of its nose against the soft skin of my face as it nuzzled my forehead and cheeks
Suddenly, a low chuckle rang out in the darkness causing the dragon to withdraw its nose and my legs to buckle. I collapsed upon the ground, my head down, breath hissing short and shallow between my teeth making me feel light headed.
"Whoa, whoa," said the rider, kneeling in front of me and putting his hands on either side of my head, pressing his fingertips to my scalp in an oddly soothing motion. "Astona was merely curious: she meant you no harm. She is asking me now what she did wrong and is afraid she may have upset you."
I had to take a moment before I could reply. "She startled me," I said breathlessly. "I was not aware she was so close until she was breathing down my neck."
I looked at the man who was perched in front of me and was amazed at how close he was. His eyes glittered with emerald fire, seeing right through my own into the depths of my soul, whilst revealing nothing about himself. We looked at each other for a moment more before he broke away, removing his hands from my head and straightening up.
"She is still very young," he said, moving to Astona's side and running a hand down her neck. "A mere fifty something years old; still practically a baby seeing as dragons can live to be thousands of years old. She still chases birds and small rodents and has a nasty habit of chewing her toes. She thinks you have rejected her, and that you don't want to be friends."
I sat for a moment more before rising and moving slowly towards the dragon. Father had told me that dragons were sentient beings, capable of intelligence greater than that of any Other. I could see evidence of that in the way its fiery eyes regarded me with shrewd wisdom.
"I meant no disrespect," I said to the dragon directly, not even feeling odd about it. "I have never seen one of your kindred before and you startled me by being so close. My name is Isabella, and it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance."
I curtseyed as I would if I were meeting an important human and hoped I wasn't offending her by doing so. As I rose again, Astona looked at me for a moment before dipping her own head in what I assumed to be the dragon equivalent of a bow.
"She is glad that you are not frightened of her," said her rider, amusement dancing on his face. "She thinks you smell nice and would like to be friends with you."
I heard him stifle a laugh at my confused and taken aback expression.
"I would be glad to make friends with you as well," I said to the dragon, which looked at me expectantly. I couldn't help but notice the way her tongue protruded from between her teeth, much like an oversized dog.
"Be careful, Isabella," said the rider, swinging up into the saddle that father had evidently made him. "Go to bed and stay safe. Your father loves you very much and would be devastated to know something happened to you."
"At least tell me your name before you go," I asked, looking up at him.
He hesitated momentarily before saying, "Edward. My name is Edward."
"And how do I contact you, if we're in trouble?" I asked, knowing that my father would not be around forever and there may well come a day when I desperately needed assistance.
Edward fumbled around his neck before withdrawing two identical chains of silver, both with two halves of the same circular pendant on them. He jumped off Astona and walked over to where I stood, handing me one of the chains.
The pendant was a delicate silver web on a silver ring. The two halves clipped together to form some sort of pattern, but it contained no meaning for me. The pendant itself though, was a treasure and though he made no mention of it, it was obvious it meant a lot to Edward as well and I was honoured that he had chosen to give it to me.
"Should you need me, this pendant will tell me," he said, brushing his fingers over the other half of the pendant which still sat around his own neck. "Provided you are wearing it at the time, I will always be able to feel if you are in trouble and it will guide me to where you are."
I placed the chain around my neck, feeling the metal warm to my skin. I thanked him and he got back on Astona.
I stood back and watched them winging away through the night sky before I returned inside to where Charlie was already asleep. As I slipped beneath the covers, my hand came instinctively to the pendant around my neck.
With the warm metal in my hand, I was quickly lulled off to sleep, knowing that one day, I would meet my dragon rider again. My Edward.
A/N: I know I said a month, but I really couldn't be bothered waiting that long. If you see something in here that you like or don't like, feel free to tell me, because I believe stories are made that much better by constructive criticism. EM.
