Post by Arrowbid on Aug 22, 2007 17:58:06 GMT -5
The Imp of the Perverse
Though the wind and lightning had died down, the two dragons did not fly as their wings ached heavily from being tightened and folded close to their bodies in the confines of the tower. They flapped them about in the night air but waited to take flight, instead they scaled down the side of the stone wall. Crawling down like leopards, head first, and as they descended their strong talons sunk deep into the brick as if it were merely new tender wood. Streke leaped from the side of the tower, landing nimbly in the soft spongy grass of the moor, which had begun to heal since the great fire. He looked up at the moon and it shone reflected in his large intelligent eyes. Wynd leapt down landing across from his brother and gazed out at the endless field, the only thing in sight were those horrible dead trees, with their sharpened branches still scraping madly at the air. Wynd scowled; at least their sister didn’t land in those spears when she was tossed from the sky. Instead, Drazil’s red and blue scaled body still lay where it had fallen. Strangely the wind had left her and the deer alone, but as it blew and whipped at their wings and tails they could feel its full force was still lingering on the plains. The cooling breeze made them shiver, and as the wind grew stronger it unhooked Wynds’ green gold scales making them stand on end, and he had to preen them to fit them back into place.
Streke looked up to the black sky, a few clouds still hung here and there, threatening to converge once more at the sign of survivors, but the stars prevailed and sparkled like tiny diamonds embedded in the black velvet of the night. The sparkling sky appeared in surprising contrast against Streke’s armor of black and blue scales, and as the wind whipped up more clouds Streke growled at the sky and fled from the top of the grassy hill returning to his brother. “Come, we have to get moving. If we stay here we might as well just travel to the valley of death and die like our imprudent parents” barked Streke, and he gruffly began to move down the moor toward the trees. The dark forest itself converged to a point on the horizon, forming a small passage where the branches did not touch. I was just wide enough for a small caravan or a troop of dragons to pass through without being blown into the sharp wood.
Wynd looked out to the passage, twilight was still visible and it shown like the angel of death eerily around the forest. “Yes, let’s go…” he sighed anxiously, eager to escape the purgatory. Wynd was fine with wherever his elder brother led them, as long it was away from this dark place, it held too many memories for him to bear and he feared that their ghosts would appear in phantasms to him any minute now. Streke flicked his spiny ear beckoning his little brother onward and the two set out across the moor. Walking in single file with Streke in the lead; they traversed a great distance of the grassy moor before they passed the body of their sister. She was in the dragons’ heaven now, they thought. It was easy too see from the sight of her body, still curled protectively around the dead mother deer and her fawn. Anyone who was included in a sign as holy as that must be favored among the great creator, it was a sign of peace. And though they were starving they didn’t eat the deer carcass, they simply passed it by hardly acknowledging the tantalizing smell except with the slightest twitch of their keen spiked noses.
The two brothers trekked along, unsheltered and open to the elements, as the moor stretched onward into eternity their only thoughts lay on their new home, the paradise that the grand elders had told them of and the land they instinctively knew existed. North, south, east and west were all they had to go on, and that was enough, for as long as they new their bearings they we never lost. They were headed north. This they could tell not only from the star that shone high overhead, the one star that all of man new of, but their own inner compasses that led the way as well. This inner knowing had been passed down through the generations and would never lie on the whereabouts of the world. As the two of them rested their eyes on the passage that was drawing closer, they began to run. The wind Streaked past them and rustled their scales, streaming tears from their eyes, everything became a blur and the two of them simultaneously opened their wings like great parasail’s, as too glide low along the ground. Their claws barely touched the short grass and rippled across the glade leaving a stream where the sage had been parted. Wynd would gallop along the ground every so often; with wings still outstretched as too propel him further onward. He sped faster and faster till he was in front of his brother and reveled in the delight of finally out doing him! Then they both stopped… and turned their heads as a horrifying sound entered their ears… and was funneled into their brains. Ghosts of the past swarmed about the grand hillside; the hillside which was still covered by the shadow of twilight, slowly giving way to the oppressive night. The demons raced towards the only two living things left on the moor, drawn to them like moths to the fire light, and slowed to an eerie halt as they approached, spreading their great waves of darkness like a veil thus beginning to crowd all over the two. The dragons could see them, though man could not, as their piercing eyes saw all and penetrated even the foulest of hearts. Screaming creatures swarmed about them, not just man but animal as well. With a lone shriek a banshee swooned and flowed like the wind over the fleeting light, and darkness reveled. The silence was broken! Streke reared and bellowed though he tried to ignore them as he had been taught, but as they grew more aggressive with their tortured screams he felt like lashing out and wiping their soul away, perhaps he could drag it down and feed it to the death angel?! But Wynds heart was focused more on panic, he felt drowned in the overbearing torture and sorrow that these wayward spirits brought. The ghost of a lioness who lost her cubs was present among the mob, she had not yet moved on and couldn’t until she found her young ones broken bodies. When the entranced spirit saw Wynd cringing there she let out a screeching otherworldly moan, and her eyes shown red against the ghost’s withered and blue misted body. She leapt at him and passed through the young dragon’s body trying to overpower his essence and posses him. Wynd couldn’t move and was almost lost to the demons until he felt the tip of his brother’s tail brushing against his flank. Only then was he reminded that he was still among the living and the lioness released him thus returning his soul to the world.
“Don’t show fear.” Whispered Streke flatly, he had apparently calmed himself as to not be taken into seduction. “Show no emotion or recognition, or they will steal you away and use you for their own searching and misdoings.” Streke stared at his brother with his deep golden eyes trying to be as stern as possible without inviting the phantoms. “Just follow me.” Whispered Streke calmly, and he released his brother from his demanding gaze, thus beginning to race towards the passage and away from the valley of the dead…
On along the shadowed hillside and through the twilight they ran, whipping up dust and grass as their talons tore at the loose stone and prairie. The sky thundered as the clouds had converged once more and the sky grew black, hiding the tips of red rose that dawn was bringing. The clouds darkened and lightening struck the black and gold sky threatening to ignite the dried cracking grass. As the moor began to smooth out, the sky and plain met along the horizon. Their borders merged forming a golden rim that seemed to stretch on forever. Yet in this darkened world of seemingly peaceful twilight a grand chaos was seeping along the ground after the two brothers. Wynd and Strekes’s sturdy long legs pounded hard against the earth and their chests heaved with each coughing breath as they ran as fast as a creature that large could. Wynd turned his head against the stinging wind and skidded to a halt, uprooting the dead sage and flinging stones and dirt into the air as he did so. The ghostly torrent had stopped its pursuit, yet Wynd was still frightened. If it wasn’t a lack of emotion that stopped their chase what was it? As Wynd stared out against the gold and black land the horrifying blue mist of demons began to congregate, then their bloody eyes flashed bright red for a moment before finally fading away. All that was left off the vengeful spirits was a blue smoke like mist that began to settle back into earth. It wisped and curled along the moor until the wind picked it back up, then carried it away to torment some other poor souls. Wynd paused and looked out upon the black world, which once again was filled with nothingness. He stared out in disbelief unsure of what had just happened to him then reared and staggered back a pace. The wind that had picked up the spirits receded back down from the heaven and whipped past Wynd’s great crowned head. The force of the otherworldly gust caught his wings causing him to lose balance thus flinging him round to face his brother, just in time to see it dance around Streke and then flee back into the valley. Wynd stared in awe with his mouth agape at what he had witnessed. He blinked, thinking his eyes had played tricks on him. “St-Streke? What-“
“Come, let’s move.” He said without emotion, and he turned west headed for the trees that bordered the passage.
Wynd looked unsure for a second but hurried up. He trotted along side his brother toward the evil wood and looked up at his brother suspiciously, “Streke we’re headed through the pass, remember?”
Streke walked on not listening, but then snapped out of his thoughts and glanced at Wynd taken aback “What? Oh, yes of course…” he stuttered, obviously confused. Then he turned his long monstrous neck back towards the twisted trees, “but you are hungry aren’t you?” he stated, determinedly.
Wynd stared at his brother in disbelief, and stood stuttering for a moment unsure of what to say. “Well, of course I am but-“
“Then let’s go” said Streke sternly.
“But… the trees! We can’t fit in there! Even if we could we would be-“
“Silence!” snapped Streke… They were now at the edge of the twisted wood and Streke was standing haughtily opposite his brother.
“What is wrong with you!?” yelled Wynd lashing out and he leapt in front of his brother to stand between Streke and the sharp trees, with his back to the spear tipped wood.
Streke took a step back flaring his wings, then arched his back and flicked his scales. His body was going pale and his golden eyes became pupil-less as they clouded over with red and glowed. This was not Streke, Wynd was certain now. He bared his teeth at his possessed brother and curled his tongue. Letting flame flicker and dance out of his maw threateningly. Casting shadows against the trees and their faces. Despite the haunted look it put on Wynd’s face the creature inside of streke showed no notice. Wynd went blank for a second, then stirred into a hissing fit as he tensed his muscles and dropped to the ground. But when he tried to pounce at his brother he found he couldn’t move, instead his feet seemed cemented to the ground and his entire body went numb, yet there was no physical force holding him. The spirit possessed Streke cackled tauntingly and then rose off the ground. He launched himself at Wynd, turning him round and thrusting him into the needle sharp branches of the thicket. The thorns drove like stakes through Wynd’s vulnerable neck and underside, just barley missing his vital areas. Wynd struggled helplessly against the spears, and watched in horror as the black ground and thorns quickly ran red with his blood. Streke thrust his young brother in once more, further bloodying him, then pulled him out and flung him round against a tree. Everywhere not protected by his scaly armor was torn and weeping tears of red, and Wynd almost passed out as he was pinned by the shoulders and thrown with his back up against the bark. Then the demon that was now in Streke leaned its ghastly face in and whispered… “Your betrayer has come, you and your brethren can no longer hide, and kin of your kin will make the blood river run wide…”
Wynd struggled against his captor, his power was returning, but the demon continued on... “The black one will rise to gather its pawns, to control a great bane, that is their cause…”
Wynd freed his arms from the demons grip and lunged at the creature. Such force he threw that all the surrounding wood broke and was thrown away into the sky and came raining down in splinters. The two of them fell to the ground and Wynd pinned his brother into the dust. He paused for a heart beat. Then gaped his jaw, bared his teeth and unfolded his long fangs. Roaring ferociously Wynd lunged for his brother throat. At that exact moment the demon fled from Streke’s body and circled up screeching into the brightening sky. Wynd’s bluff worked and he stepped away from Streke, who was now lying on his back in the dust, gasping for breath as the color returned to his body. Streke slowly rolled himself over and stumbled to his feat, chest heaving. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, panting, and then looked to the sky. The demon hadn’t left and was circling round and round the small clearing of trees. It was in the form of a monstrous twisted raven and it flew lower over the brothers as it opened its beak and screeched. “The black one has come! The deed will be done, then all shall kneel and man will reveal… in time an age that will come.” The foul thing circled a couple more times around the clearing until finally fading, leaving nothing but a wisp of smoke behind it.
Sreke and Wynd stared off into the distance for a moment, wondering what the raven had meant. “Streke, what happened to you?” muttered Wynd, staring oddly at him.
Streke looked angrily at the sky and raised his wings. “…that was no wayward spirit, someone sent it here.” He spat, brutishly, and turned to the sky. He brought his wings down over his head pushing him off into the blue with a single blow. Flying away from the trees and blowing them aside as if they were toothpicks.
“But who, and why did it take you like that?” Wynd raised and swept his giant wings down over his head as well and launched himself after his brother, flying out of the trees. The gusts of wind caused dust and debris to fly everywhere as they left.
Streke turned in the air and hovered like a dragonfly and growled “How should I know!? If I had the slightest notion, we wouldn’t have traveled this way at all! When will you learn to grow up and think for yourself?” he looked out across the moor as an unearthly wind rolled past it. “Come, we have to get out of here, and fast.”
Streke brought down his wings and shot forward turning towards the passage, now bathed in the light of heavens dawn. Wynd was silent as he hurried after him and heaved his great muscles as to turn his wings after his brother. On they flew, high above the ground, watching the shadows of the clouds travel swiftly across the plains. The light of dawn was able to penetrate the clouds, and filtered through, splashing dappled arrays of sunlight on the earth far below. On they flew. The shadows of the dragons were speeding faster and faster, rippling like waves along the ground. Slowly disappearing as they rose higher into the atmosphere, and becoming nothing more than mere specks on the horizon. With their bat-like wings straightened out, and they pushed their huge heads forward cutting through the streaming wind, and glided along, miles above the ground, until they vanished into the blinding sun.
The next morning, Wynd and Streke touched down to earth; whipping up a whirlwind of leaves and grass blades as they did so. They sighed and loosened their cramped and aching wing muscles, after the non stopped flight they were both utterly exhausted. Streke staggered and hurled his massive body to the forest floor with a large thud, and curled up in the sun soaked grass. Wynd landed nimbly beside Streke but stumbled to the ground, he looked up to the sky panting heavily. “Where are we?”
They had landed in the middle of a huge lush forest. It was such a surprising contrast from the shadowed valley back home that Wynd was in shock. As he gazed around the clearing he noted the trees, which were alive and healthy with green, instead of dead and black. Bushes of fern and flower doted the forest; there was so much of it you couldn’t see beyond the first expanse of trees. Yet there were no brambles, thorns or low branches to restrain the dragon’s movement, it would be perfect hunting ground if he could find a field or pasture. The bounty of at all made the ravens warning seem like some feeble lie, and Wynd could have easily forgotten it here if it hadn’t been so mind numbing. He rose to his hind legs and walked around looking up over the trees branches.
“What are you doing?” smirked Streke in an annoyed tone. He laid his crowned head on the forest floor and tucked in his forearms a he watched his brother stumble around. Wynd was confused; despite the huge expanse of the forest he couldn’t see any life at all. No matter how far back he looked, whether beyond the tree line or upon the distant hill, there was nothing. He zoomed back in using his telescopic vision and took one last glance around the clearing. Wynd shrunk to the ground and looked up through the forest canopy, a crow passed over head, then nothing. Not a single bird sat in the trees, not a sound, nor a whisper of life, filled the air. He looked over to his brother with questioning eyes. “Streke… there is absolutely nothing here.” he whispered, astounded.
“What do you mean nothing here? There are trees and water isn’t there? So something must be living, besides why would a place like this be uninhabited? I myself just saw a crow journeying through the skies.” Streke was hungry and wasn’t to keen on the idea of there being no prey.
“Brother, crows don’t necessarily mean there is living prey.” Wynd slowly stood up and leapt to one of the oaks high thick branches. He reached for another and jumped from branch to branch like some great cat, until he reached the forests canopy. The branches rustled at the movement and Streke frowned up at Wynd as he was pelted with falling acorns.
Wynd reached the top where the light streamed through the branches and poked his head out of the trees. “Crows only feast on the… dead…” He gasped as he looked across the trees and skies. Millions of crows and other scavengers were filling the air and perching on the trees. Like a great black cloud, they blocked out the sun as they converged to form a great flock. Seeing six crows at the same time was said to foretell death, but what did a gathering of this many mean? The crows and ravens ruffled their feathers but still made no sound, not one cawed or spoke up. Instead they all sat staring off into the distance watching the clouds as if they expected something to happen. Then one of them thingyed its head and flapped up. The black bird turned around on its branch, and faced Wynd. It stared at him emotionlessly and blinked its red beady eyes, then cawed. Suddenly all of the crows were turning there heads and staring at him. Wynd backed up in surprise until he felt the trunk of the tree bumping against his rough scaly back, his hooked claws dug into the wood and he reared. Wynd roared a sound like that of a raptor (a terrible unearthly sound) and sent them cawing and fluttering into the air; they turned and flew of scattering their flock among the great pines and conifers. The creatures grasped with their clawed feet and attached themselves to the distant needles and branches as they found new perches. The crows flapped around to stare at him once more as if they expected him to hunt or kill something, for them to eat up later. But he had turned and hopped down from the branch, shaking the mighty tree with each thump of his landing. He crouched and bunched up his leg muscles, then hopped to one of the lower branches.
Wynd leaned over the side resting his claws on the smooth wood and called to his brother. “I’m going to go hunting and see if I can find anything. You go ahead and take a look around.” Wynd wanted to check things out before he went blathering on to Streke. Streke nodded at his brother’s proposal and Wynd launched himself into the air and busted through the forest canopy scattering crows and pine as he did so.
I don’t know what’s going on anymore! There’s no prey for miles yet the crows have gathered as if a feast is waiting.
As Wynd thought he dove and snatched at the crows, growing angry at their presence. He caught one in his great talons and tore it in two, but even that didn’t seem to bother the creatures. Instead, those born of a different kind greedily ate up the dead bird. Wynd scowled in disgust, as he licked the blood and feathers from his maw. Then turned to the air, and with a flap of his great creative wings he exploded into the never ending skies. With wind as his partner and the sky as his friend, the world was limitless, and with his golden eyes. The eyes of a dragon. He could see far into forever, and discover the world as no one else could.