Prologue
Deep in the heart of the warm forest, a village lay nestled in a grove of trees. Not one of the buildings was higher than a young child, yet it was filled with activity of the smallest kind. Tiny children ran and played, pushing each other into the smallest of puddles and thoroughly drenching themselves and their clothes with the warm murky water, dragonflies jostled in their stables and work of all kinds was going on everywhere. Stocky workmen atop high scaffolds were handed timber by Gallivespians (for that's who they were) on the backs of buzzing dragonflies, forges were blazing away in a smoky corner and the rhythmic clank of hammers overflowed it all.
Peering out of a spotlessly-cleaned window and taking all this in were Falcor and Torialys, two of the village's youngest inhabitants. Falcor suddenly gasped and seized Torialys' arm.
"Look Torialys, there's our dads!" he exclaimed, excitedly pointing out the window at the two black steel clad warriors, their distinctive family emblems glinting in the sun. The two teeny Gallivespians rushed outside towards them and were swept up into their fathers' powerful armoured arms. The two men raised their enamelled visors, blinked, exchanged an embarrassed grin and swapped over children.
"Falcor! You can't imagine how much I miss you on those long winter nights - I've been thinking of you and your mother every single day that we've been away!" said his father (who's name was Tektra) gruffly. Falcor was hugging him tightly and breathing in the familiar musky smells of his father's armour. Much the same was going on next to them and it was some time before the two parents managed to drag the excited children indoors.
* * *
"Where are your mothers?" asked Torialys' father, Metras. He took off his heavy armour and slung it over a nearby chair only for it to be instantly seized upon by the eager children. Torialys slipped his own small form inside it and began staggering around the room.
"Look at me Falcor,' he gasped, 'I'm a real Chevalier!"
Laughing, Metras took hold of Torialys before he totally collapsed under the weight of the massive body armour and ruffled his hair. "Not quite my son", he said affectionately, "You'll need a dragonfly first".
"Now, where are our quite frankly adorable and no doubt awaiting wives?" asked Tektra.
"They were baking a cake so -" began Falcor, before he was cut off in mid sentence. Permeating the small house was a low, wailing sound that penetrated straight through the walls and almost deafened them. The two men froze. Metras swore and began struggling back into his armour whilst Tektra started speaking urgently to his son and Torialys. The large Gallivespians' eyes were full of a pain he thought he could forget here, in his own home.
"Listen very carefully you two, that's the warning klaxon and I know you're taught what that means at school - the big people are attacking". Falcor and Torialys were looking up at him, their wide-eyed gazes fixed. They moved somewhat closer to each other.
"Now, I want you two to run straight down to the cellar and hide in those boxes we used to play pirates in. Remember them? Don't worry about your mothers, they're tough ladies and can take care of themselves. Now go! Go!" The children were standing dumbstruck and he had to forcibly push them away from him before they began to run, sobbing and clambering down the ladder to the cold basement.
"Come on Tektra!" roared Metras, who was heading for the door. With one drawn-out last look at his son, Tektra turned and sprinted outside.
* * *
All around the village men were downing their tools and hurrying towards the armoury. Spurs were strapped on, gauntlets grasped and dragonflies saddled. Five archers from Bolt-Core were first to take off and they sped towards the approaching humans, cocking their crossbows. The lead party of humans reached the village and armed with huge, cruel sticks they began smashing and destroying those buildings closest to them. Any Gallivespian venturing too close was brutally stamped on, man, woman and child alike. Snarling, Metras and Tektra leapt onto their dragonflies and urged them forwards to battle.
Deep in the heart of the warm forest, a village lay nestled in a grove of trees. Not one of the buildings was higher than a young child, yet it was filled with activity of the smallest kind. Tiny children ran and played, pushing each other into the smallest of puddles and thoroughly drenching themselves and their clothes with the warm murky water, dragonflies jostled in their stables and work of all kinds was going on everywhere. Stocky workmen atop high scaffolds were handed timber by Gallivespians (for that's who they were) on the backs of buzzing dragonflies, forges were blazing away in a smoky corner and the rhythmic clank of hammers overflowed it all.
Peering out of a spotlessly-cleaned window and taking all this in were Falcor and Torialys, two of the village's youngest inhabitants. Falcor suddenly gasped and seized Torialys' arm.
"Look Torialys, there's our dads!" he exclaimed, excitedly pointing out the window at the two black steel clad warriors, their distinctive family emblems glinting in the sun. The two teeny Gallivespians rushed outside towards them and were swept up into their fathers' powerful armoured arms. The two men raised their enamelled visors, blinked, exchanged an embarrassed grin and swapped over children.
"Falcor! You can't imagine how much I miss you on those long winter nights - I've been thinking of you and your mother every single day that we've been away!" said his father (who's name was Tektra) gruffly. Falcor was hugging him tightly and breathing in the familiar musky smells of his father's armour. Much the same was going on next to them and it was some time before the two parents managed to drag the excited children indoors.
* * *
"Where are your mothers?" asked Torialys' father, Metras. He took off his heavy armour and slung it over a nearby chair only for it to be instantly seized upon by the eager children. Torialys slipped his own small form inside it and began staggering around the room.
"Look at me Falcor,' he gasped, 'I'm a real Chevalier!"
Laughing, Metras took hold of Torialys before he totally collapsed under the weight of the massive body armour and ruffled his hair. "Not quite my son", he said affectionately, "You'll need a dragonfly first".
"Now, where are our quite frankly adorable and no doubt awaiting wives?" asked Tektra.
"They were baking a cake so -" began Falcor, before he was cut off in mid sentence. Permeating the small house was a low, wailing sound that penetrated straight through the walls and almost deafened them. The two men froze. Metras swore and began struggling back into his armour whilst Tektra started speaking urgently to his son and Torialys. The large Gallivespians' eyes were full of a pain he thought he could forget here, in his own home.
"Listen very carefully you two, that's the warning klaxon and I know you're taught what that means at school - the big people are attacking". Falcor and Torialys were looking up at him, their wide-eyed gazes fixed. They moved somewhat closer to each other.
"Now, I want you two to run straight down to the cellar and hide in those boxes we used to play pirates in. Remember them? Don't worry about your mothers, they're tough ladies and can take care of themselves. Now go! Go!" The children were standing dumbstruck and he had to forcibly push them away from him before they began to run, sobbing and clambering down the ladder to the cold basement.
"Come on Tektra!" roared Metras, who was heading for the door. With one drawn-out last look at his son, Tektra turned and sprinted outside.
* * *
All around the village men were downing their tools and hurrying towards the armoury. Spurs were strapped on, gauntlets grasped and dragonflies saddled. Five archers from Bolt-Core were first to take off and they sped towards the approaching humans, cocking their crossbows. The lead party of humans reached the village and armed with huge, cruel sticks they began smashing and destroying those buildings closest to them. Any Gallivespian venturing too close was brutally stamped on, man, woman and child alike. Snarling, Metras and Tektra leapt onto their dragonflies and urged them forwards to battle.