Title: DragonRider Part 5/?
Author: Errie
Rating: PG
Summary: Newcastle's thoughts on his new family, and Aneka alludes
to what might have happened to make the dragon and wyvern populations so small.
Dedication: To everyone who gave feedback, and to my large amount of boredom, which made me get off my lazy ass and finish this little ditty.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except anything that is unfamiliar, and the concept. Everything else belongs to who ever and whatever that is against my happiness. I want a Wolvie too!
They are odd, the dragon and her rider. They act almost human. Almost. They act more like me at times, like when one is hunting. At others, they act human. The dragon can even speak that foul human tongue! I have gathered bits of information, such as the girl is known as Rogue, and the dragon as Aneka.
The girl, Rogue, has given me a human name, Newcastle. I like it, sort of. Except that I cannot pronounce it. My old name, Lerr, was fair enough among the wyvern population. I was made fun of for the unusual sound, but I got over that. And the wyverns are not as plentiful as we used to be. We are starting to branch off, become more like herds of wild horses. One male leads a pack of females, the males fight over females, and there is designated areas, territory, where others may not cross.
Rogue has treated me well, giving me parts of her food, and even stealing some of Aneka's kill. To repay her, I have been her constant companion, walking when she does, sleeping when she does, and all in all being a guard wyvern.
These creatures are indeed very strange, and they are the cause for my kind's extinction. Not so much the dragon, even though her kind has been known to snack on wyverns from time to time. The human. Her kind has hunted mine for hundreds of years. Our children have grown smaller, faster. I, myself, am less than an eighth the size of a full-grown male wyvern three hundred years ago.
My wings are more delicate, more adapt for flying over trees and through branches. I can fly twenty inches from the ground and still keep up a fair speed. The human and her dragon, however, do not think that I am small for my species. Well, the dragon is old enough. She might remember.
I have known about Aneka since I was hatched. She is legendary among us wyverns. For she is the only one that can remember when we were big enough to fill a large human living space. I can see her age in her eyes. She flies as though she is only a young dragon of seventy years. But her eyes are weighed down with thought. She has betrayed her kind to cross over to the side of humans.
She cannot help it, I suppose. She knows the location to the last nesting place for dragons and wyverns alike. She is the last to remember of Gossamer. We all come to her when we need the location. She'll never tell, only say that Gossamer is lost to us. We cannot venture there now. I can almost imagine that I can see the reason why in her eyes when she speaks.
Well, we all know anyways. That was the place of the last organized nesting. The last time any wyvern and dragon ever trusted the other around their eggs. The last time we didn't fear the humans.
That was the time of the massacre.
~*~
He knows something, that little wyvern. He knows about me. But that's not surprising. All the others do.
Yes, I was at the massacre. I saw my fellow dragons and wyverns slain in cold blood. I ate as many humans as I could that night. Never did it again.
Then again, I never had an egg either. That was to be my first season. I did lay the egg, but I never had it.
The humans.
They ransacked everything. Every dragon, wyvern and egg was dissected, every powerful/useful part of them taken out and shipped to exotic places. India for the hearts and unborn dragons. Russia for the dragon blood and wyvern wings. China for the claws, teeth, bones and shells. The meat for the poor and starving. The hides were shipped everywhere. The humans made money from the massacre. I made revenge from their blood.
I have become a legend in my own right, amongst wyverns and their hunters. I followed everything. I killed all the people that got in my way and some that didn't. I wasn't the first angry dragon they had seen, but I was the first enraged one.
I killed the men, women and children. I demolished towns, cities, temples, churches. I burned everything to the ground. And my roar rang victoriously over the night.
The reason I stopped, the reason I kept Marie, was change. Or lack thereof.
When I came back from my killing spree, nothing had changed; my brothers and sisters where still dead on their sides, the egg shells sill scattered about in a hapzard fashion. It was exactly the same. The deaths of their killers had changed nothing. The dragons and wyverns were still dead. That was all I knew.
I lived for the longest time as 'The One'. The one dragon, the only dragon. Wyverns used to be the size of living rooms, now they were reduced to dogs.
Everything used to be so different. Normal. Now, however, any intentions the humans had have paved the path into this hell.
This nightmare.
And I have to stay here for the rest of my long years.
Always 'The One'.
Author: Errie
Rating: PG
Summary: Newcastle's thoughts on his new family, and Aneka alludes
to what might have happened to make the dragon and wyvern populations so small.
Dedication: To everyone who gave feedback, and to my large amount of boredom, which made me get off my lazy ass and finish this little ditty.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except anything that is unfamiliar, and the concept. Everything else belongs to who ever and whatever that is against my happiness. I want a Wolvie too!
They are odd, the dragon and her rider. They act almost human. Almost. They act more like me at times, like when one is hunting. At others, they act human. The dragon can even speak that foul human tongue! I have gathered bits of information, such as the girl is known as Rogue, and the dragon as Aneka.
The girl, Rogue, has given me a human name, Newcastle. I like it, sort of. Except that I cannot pronounce it. My old name, Lerr, was fair enough among the wyvern population. I was made fun of for the unusual sound, but I got over that. And the wyverns are not as plentiful as we used to be. We are starting to branch off, become more like herds of wild horses. One male leads a pack of females, the males fight over females, and there is designated areas, territory, where others may not cross.
Rogue has treated me well, giving me parts of her food, and even stealing some of Aneka's kill. To repay her, I have been her constant companion, walking when she does, sleeping when she does, and all in all being a guard wyvern.
These creatures are indeed very strange, and they are the cause for my kind's extinction. Not so much the dragon, even though her kind has been known to snack on wyverns from time to time. The human. Her kind has hunted mine for hundreds of years. Our children have grown smaller, faster. I, myself, am less than an eighth the size of a full-grown male wyvern three hundred years ago.
My wings are more delicate, more adapt for flying over trees and through branches. I can fly twenty inches from the ground and still keep up a fair speed. The human and her dragon, however, do not think that I am small for my species. Well, the dragon is old enough. She might remember.
I have known about Aneka since I was hatched. She is legendary among us wyverns. For she is the only one that can remember when we were big enough to fill a large human living space. I can see her age in her eyes. She flies as though she is only a young dragon of seventy years. But her eyes are weighed down with thought. She has betrayed her kind to cross over to the side of humans.
She cannot help it, I suppose. She knows the location to the last nesting place for dragons and wyverns alike. She is the last to remember of Gossamer. We all come to her when we need the location. She'll never tell, only say that Gossamer is lost to us. We cannot venture there now. I can almost imagine that I can see the reason why in her eyes when she speaks.
Well, we all know anyways. That was the place of the last organized nesting. The last time any wyvern and dragon ever trusted the other around their eggs. The last time we didn't fear the humans.
That was the time of the massacre.
~*~
He knows something, that little wyvern. He knows about me. But that's not surprising. All the others do.
Yes, I was at the massacre. I saw my fellow dragons and wyverns slain in cold blood. I ate as many humans as I could that night. Never did it again.
Then again, I never had an egg either. That was to be my first season. I did lay the egg, but I never had it.
The humans.
They ransacked everything. Every dragon, wyvern and egg was dissected, every powerful/useful part of them taken out and shipped to exotic places. India for the hearts and unborn dragons. Russia for the dragon blood and wyvern wings. China for the claws, teeth, bones and shells. The meat for the poor and starving. The hides were shipped everywhere. The humans made money from the massacre. I made revenge from their blood.
I have become a legend in my own right, amongst wyverns and their hunters. I followed everything. I killed all the people that got in my way and some that didn't. I wasn't the first angry dragon they had seen, but I was the first enraged one.
I killed the men, women and children. I demolished towns, cities, temples, churches. I burned everything to the ground. And my roar rang victoriously over the night.
The reason I stopped, the reason I kept Marie, was change. Or lack thereof.
When I came back from my killing spree, nothing had changed; my brothers and sisters where still dead on their sides, the egg shells sill scattered about in a hapzard fashion. It was exactly the same. The deaths of their killers had changed nothing. The dragons and wyverns were still dead. That was all I knew.
I lived for the longest time as 'The One'. The one dragon, the only dragon. Wyverns used to be the size of living rooms, now they were reduced to dogs.
Everything used to be so different. Normal. Now, however, any intentions the humans had have paved the path into this hell.
This nightmare.
And I have to stay here for the rest of my long years.
Always 'The One'.