Conflict and Creation

by Oreochema

He would need to pull out of his dive at just the right moment to avoid a fatal collision with the earth. Now! Therrin flexed his chest and shoulder muscles, and his wings snapped open. But they did not slow his fall. With a pang of dread, he turned his head to look, and his wings were gone. He was about to die, and all he could do was watch as the earth loomed closer.

Conflict and Creation

Chapter 1

High above the island of New Trismus, a pale, silver-white dragon wheeled in the sky. His three pairs of ivory horns curved behind his head, and the narrow nostrils on his beak-like face sniffed the clean, pure air. From this height, even the Ancients far below looked as small as tiny grass beetles. This was plenty high enough; he could dive from here.

Therrin MirrorScales furled his wings and plummeted, giving a triumphant roar of exhilaration as his weight carried him down. He felt the wind rush past his face to rustle his folded wing membranes, and heard the air whistle past his horns. He would need to pull out of his dive at just the right moment to avoid a fatal collision with the earth.

The Ancients grew to be the size of ruxus.

Then they were large as oak treants.

Now!

Therrin flexed his chest and shoulder muscles, and his wings snapped open.

But they did not slow his fall.

With a pang of dread, he turned his head to look, and his wings were gone. He was about to die, and all he could do was watch as the earth loomed closer.

Just before the jarring impact that would have ended his life, the world blinked to black…

… and Therrin's eyes snapped open.

Awake again.

The small silvery hatchling took a deep breath, got up, and stretched. From his napping spot next to the New Trismus shrine, he could see the exact place where he would have died, had his dream been real. He shook his head to rid himself of the last vestiges of the nightmare and looked at the sky to gauge the time. It was still midday. He'd only been sleeping for a half hour at most.

With a sigh, he laid back down and rested his head on his paws. He wanted his wings for real, not just in his dreams. Not that it mattered. He had been told that in order to complete his Rite of Passage, he would need help from friends. He had none. And he doubted he'd ever find any, loner that he was. With a sigh, he watched as the scurrying hatchlings ran about their business.

A blue one stopped and began to barter with Milicent; a purple one ran to speak with Ragool; and a green one bounded through the square, headed toward the northern end of the island. He was no doubt after some grass beetles or some spider hatchlings.

A shadow passed overhead and Therrin looked up to see a large red Ancient glide by. She banked left and circled overhead for a few moments, apparently waiting for space to land. Only when those in the center of town had moved out of her way did the Ancient descend. For a moment, it seemed as though she would crush everyone anyway, but then she touched down and folded her wings, and the illusion passed. Everyone went back to their business. Everyone but Therrin.

He examined the Ancient, taking in her immense, muscular form. Her scales were a deep, fiery red, with darker markings - a series of green whorls and crescents - that danced over her body. Her silver chest scales shone more brilliantly than the Istarian moon, and the six long, slightly curved horns that emerged from the back of her skull were as pale as a winter wolf's coat. She turned and Therrin caught a glimpse of her tail; there was a large fin at the end, but just above that were five pairs of thin, sharp spines which laid flat against her crimson scales.

But there was something else about her that the hatchling couldn't place. He didn't realize what it was until the black-furred Saris leaped from the dragon's shoulder and strode directly toward Steward McGrubben.

'A naka?' He wondered. 'Why would she bother to carry a naka around?'

Not that he had any issues with the bipedal races. He simply knew how most of his kindred felt about them, and that sentiment was not generally a fond one.

Steward McGrubben was on the opposite side of the shrine from Therrin, but even so, as the Saris made his way toward the man, young MirrorScales was able to make out the silver stripes along the 8-foot-tall naka's body. The Saris' golden eyes shone with fierce determination, and his fangs were bared in a snarl of urgency.

Thanks to a dragon's keen ears, Therrin was able to hear their conversation.

"Stewart! I need to speak with you. The matter is urgent."

"Ah! Welcome to New Trismus, friend-Saris! What can I do for you?"

"We have an issue. Not just here in New Trismus, but all across Istaria."

"What's the matter?"

The Saris' voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "An invasion."

The spines along Therrin's back began to tingle. Fear and a desire to fight mixed together in his chest, but he remained still; it wouldn't do to rush off without more information.

The Stewart lowered his voice as well. "The Aegis? Which Blighted land are they moving from?"

"None of them. Or maybe all of them. That's just it; we're not sure. Blight Anchors are springing into existence all across Aradoth. Certainly Lesser Aradoth will be next, and at this rate, it won't be long before the Aegis find New Trismus and Skalkarr as well."

McGrubben gave a low grunt of annoyance. "But what can I do? This island is a haven for the newly Gifted. They train here, gather their strength for the war. None of them can hope to be strong enough for this."

"We aren't asking for those new to the Gift. But please spread the word to any Adult or Ancient dragons who pass through. And any of our strongest two-legged folk. Anyone who might be able to help. We have a sizeable force in Tazoon, but at the rate these anchors are appearing, it won't be enough."

Steward McGrubben sighed. "Alright. I'll do what I can."

"Thank you. I have to go warn other settlements. I advise you to come up with a plan in the event the Aegis attack this place."

With that, the Saris turned and made his way back to the immense red Ancient waiting in the square. A single leap sufficed to carry him to his resting place on her back, and she spread her wings in preparation to take back to the sky.

Therrin leapt to his feet, but before he could utter so much as the word 'wait', the red tensed her legs, leaped upward, and flapped her wings. The downbeat not only filled with air with a dull 'whump', but created a blast of wind that got caught up in the hatchling's half-open pinions and sent him rolling across the ground. By the time he scrambled to his feet, the dragon was already in the air, winging her way toward the Northwest. The white hatchling's eyes narrowed in thought.

"We have a sizeable force in Tazoon, but at the rate these anchors are appearing, it won't be enough." The Saris's words echoed through Therrin's mind; if the only plan was to gather a force of warriors to fight the Anchors...

He growled and sprinted toward the portal to Kion. He would help; he knew that he could. Friends or no, he considered Istaria his home, and he had no intention of watching it fall to the Withered Aegis.

He had to warn them.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

With a final disorienting lurch, Therrin was hurtled upward. Or perhaps sideways. He couldn't tell. Either way, he was ready to vomit when he was thrown into the blazing desert sun. Why did teleporting have to be so unpleasant?

The little silver hatchling stood up and flicked his tongue into Tazoon's hot city air. The Saris had mentioned that a force of warriors was gathering here. If he could find them, perhaps he could find the enormous red Ancient who had-

The familiar sound of claws tapping on stone drew Therrin's attention to his left. He turned his head to see another Ancient, this one a deep, leafy green with curving, swooping red crescents all over her body and wings, walking along the opposite edge of Tazoon's waterway. Her head was ducked down in an odd way, and it wasn't until a flash of icy, glimmering blue danced over Therrin's eyes that he realized the Ancient was speaking with a Hatchling that was walking alongside her.

The duo had just crossed one of the walkways that extended over the waterway, and were walking between the canal and a sandstone wall that opened into a courtyard on its opposite side. The warble of distant speech and the clang of armor came from within. They reached a doorway within the wall, paused long enough for the Ancient to adopt her two-legged Khutit form, and entered. They gave a word of greeting to the guard as they passed.

'That must be where everyone is gathering.' Therrin surmised. He bounded across the canal and into a sort of courtyard beyond the wall. The guard gave him a skeptical look as he passed, but said nothing.

Dismissing the man's behavior, Therrin began the task of finding the individual in charge of finding volunteers. As he wandered through the gathering-grounds, he marveled at the number of naka and dragons gathered here; there had to be a couple of hundred at least, not considering the number who must be away fighting, or those who were likely still on their way. Most of his own kind were either hatchlings, or had otherwise taken their bipedal Khutit forms, the better to afford space to the other races.

Several areas along the outer walls of the courtyard had been requisitioned for kiosks or vendors, who had taken up the task of supplying and repairing gear for those who arrived to help. Most of the naka entrusted with the stalls, however, weren't as busy as they might have otherwise been; most of the volunteers had brought their own gear.

Finally the crowds parted and revealed a less-used rear area within the courtyard. Therrin turned to look back at the throngs of warriors and noticed that there was a permanent structure here as well, a short Tazooni building. Perhaps it was being used as the headquarters. The hatchling turned back and circled to the front of the structure, where he made his way inside via the centermost of the building's three front entrances.

He nearly bumped into the Elf standing there.

"What do you want?!" The blue-skinned naka demanded. He was scribbling intently on a piece of parchment clipped to a thin wooden board.

"I'm sorry for barging in," Therrin replied, "but I'm looking for-"

"Can't you see that I'm busy?!" The Elf shouted. He looked up and began waving his parchment over his head. "Honestly, you gawkers come strolling in here, bold as you please, every hour of the day!"

"I'm sorry." Therrin repeated. "I'm just looking for the person in charge of gathering the volunteers."

If the man could have become more upset, he did. "Does it look like I have time to deal with you, I ask you?! Do you even remotely comprehend the sheaves of paperwork I have to go through every day just because of lazy layabouts like you? Why, I don't know how many passes I've given out just this week...!"

Therrin decided that attempting conversation was pointless. He dipped his head in a simple bow and backed away. "I'm sorry. I'll leave you to your work."

The Elf grumbled and went back to scribbling on his paper, and Therrin returned outside.

'Drulkar above, that naka was in a terrible humor. I won't bother him again.'

Therrin looked to the left and the right. There were two other entrances here; perhaps one of them held what he was looking for...

He decided to try the door to his left.

What he found were seven heavily armored naka: a bright orange Saris with black stripes along his arms and legs, an elf with long silver hair to match her eyes, a half-giant with the most impressive blonde beard that Therrin had ever seen, a dwarf who wore a golden circlet on his head and wielded an iron war hammer, a thin Sslik that looked as lean as a runner (and, Therrin noticed, unarmed; perhaps he was a monk), a Human who carried a longsword and a kite shield at least as tall as he was, and a Satyr with thick, curling ram's horns that were nearly as large as his head.

Standing with them as they all pored over a map was a white Khutit. She had a broad, sweeping head, fins along her cheeks, and a pair of thin horns that swept back and down from her head. Her body was covered in red markings that curved and swirled as though she'd recently been cut, and her chest plates were a light ash gray.

They all turned to see who had entered the room. Therrin froze.

The Khutit blinked. "Can we help you, young one?"

"Well," Therrin hesitated, "I want to speak with whoever is in charge."

They all exchanged glances. The Half-giant chuckled.

The Khutit blinked again. "No one is truly 'in charge' at the moment." She replied. "We're still trying to organize ourselves. What is it you need?"

"I came to tell you that something isn't right. If Blight Anchors are appearing as quickly as I've heard they are, no amount of force will stop them. We have to find out why they're appearing, and stop them at their source."

The Elf quirked an eyebrow. "Hatchling, I mean no disrespect to you, but you are young and inexperienced in battle. I can see it in your demeanor. Do you truly expect that this is planned? The Withered Aegis don't plan ahead. They act. They are undead whose brains are rotted from their heads; they have no capacity for tactics or strategy."

Therrin sighed. "Maybe not. But everything begins with a first instance. The Aegis may have been planning for this exact event; perhaps they've been planning all along. It seems unlikely, I know. They've never seemed to have done it before. But consider. Perhaps someone has betrayed us? Turned on us and joined the ranks of the undead?"

The Elf shook her head. "There are dragons who regularly make patrols over the Blighted Lands. If a living soul or a Gifted were helping them, we would know."

"But-"

"I'm sorry, young one, but we cannot spare the warriors for this task."

Therrin gave a curt nod and turned to leave.

"Wait."

He stopped and looked back at the Khutit who had addressed him.

The Elf furrowed her brow. "Bloodstripes, what are you doing? You know that we need everyone we can get to fight the Anchors."

The dragon turned to the naka. "I understand, Velrina, but we can't simply dismiss this possibility. If we can stop the Aegis, we should, and if this Hatchling is right, then we can avoid unnecessary bloodshed." Bloodstripes returned her attention to Therrin. "You may pursue this, but you must find your own volunteers for it."

The silver Hatchling stood up a little straighter. "I'll do my best. Thank you, Dragon Bloodstripes."

He closed his eyes and bowed, dipping his wings in an added gesture of deference before standing and running out the door.

Velrina turned to Bloodstripes. "I hope, for the sake of Istaria that his efforts aren't wasted. We can ill afford to lose anyone."

"I know, but there was a spark in that dragon's eye. If something is truly amiss, he'll figure it out. May Istaria bless him, and may Drulkar watch over him."