Darkness Falls

The noise was barley audible; a ghost of a cry, imperceptible to human ears. Ruairc halted, hand to hilt, and listened as the wind carried the tune thru the trees. Not a man, too innocent. A second cry, louder and frightened. Weary of traps and spying eyes, Ruairc kept one hand to his hip while moving silently among fallen leaves and hanging branches. He felt most at home in the woods, not in flight like his kin. The trees kept his secrets and held no council. They were wild and free.

A disturbance in the leaves accompanied the next cry as the source of the noise revealed itself. Ruairc approached, silent and lethal. A small form writhed and crooned, unaware of the beast standing above it. Hair the color of ash spilled out from a tattered and filthy sack, partially concealing its face. Every sense in Ruairc’s body sharpened, focusing entirely on the being in the sack. Smells human. New human, no rot of despair or stench of sacrifice. 
How lucky I’ve found you, little one. He fought the tingling sensation in his fingers, suppressed the burning between his shoulder blades. A gentle breeze carried the bundle's scent to his nostrils, a delicate aroma dancing on his pallette. A momentary rush of euphoria washed over Ruaric, his senses aching for satisfaction. Ruairc made his decision. In one swift movement, he snatched the bundle from its bed of leaves, tucked it firmly in the crook of his arm and disappeared among the forest. The babe in the sack was at last silent, wide eyes watching.

***

Ophelia watched as the man gathered the child in his arms. Rage erupted in her veins, a fierce heat consuming every fiber of her being. She remained still, waiting for the moment to strike. A rustling of leaves drew her attention from the man and the bundle. The culprit, a frightened mouse unsure of the audience, scurried across the leaves and out of sight. A flash of black snapped her head back to her target. She caught a fleeting glimpse of ash hair falling from the cloth before baby and captor disappeared from sight. The forest floor was a minefield of crisp autumn leaves and discarded branches, but Ophelia of The Valle made no noise as she tracked her the pair. Her feet were sure as she leapfrogged rocks and ducked behind trees. She would not let them get away. There had been enough pain, she would not lose her sister too. Thoughts of fire and death cries, her mother’s plea, needled her brain.She shook her head. Not now. Quickening her pace, as if to outrun her thoughts, Ophelia came upon a clearing and halted. A ring of ancient trees circled the open field, leaving her unprotected and vulnerable. And in the center of the ring, cradling the small bundle, stood a winged beast, ink black and covered in thick scales. Wings like soft leather shimmered a metallic purple in the sunlight. A tail donning deadly spikes swayed tauntingly back and forth. Even from her distance, Ophelia could see the lethal talons that held her sisters small body. The Dragon rose to its full height and beat his awful wings, enveloping the pair in a tornado of leaves before taking flight, baby in tow. 

***

Ruairc flirted with the tree tops, dipping down low enough to brush the highest branches before soaring upward, letting the cool wind take him further away from the forest. His mind was a symphony of thoughts and worries, refusing to relent. He flexed his talons, gently, ensuring the bundle was still safe. He’d never seen humans that far in the forest, let alone a small child left alone. 

This is wrong.

The thought blossomed into a fear that chilled the Dragon’s blood. He instinctively tightened his grip, eliciting a small yip! from the babe.

“Alright there, little one, don’t go waking the others.” 

Ruairc knew there was no safe haven for the child among his kin. Even those who hadn’t given themselves to the Dark would be too afraid to offer any help. And he didn’t blame them. The changes that crept into the Realm were gradual in the beginning-travel restrictions, curfews, mandatory weekly check-ins. Then more drastic- Dragons were required to register with the Council upon their eighteenth year. Werewolves were made to wear tracking collars. The few that dared resist the Dark were dealt with privately, returning to their homes, broken and resigned. 

If they returned at all. 

Ruairc remebered a time when Dragons and Werewolves lived peacefully in The Valley among the Villagers. In those days, an alliance among the magical beings and humans kept The Dark out. Life had been easy in the Valle. Children, magical and non, played without fear or prejudice, never thinking of the perils that existed outside their small world. There was power in the union between the two groups, a respect that extended beyond the reach of the Valley and kept Evil at bay. This was the world Ruairc had grown up in.

A pang of anger flashed in Ruairc’s eyes, the bitter memories flooding in. 

His father’s voice, frightened and thin, cut thru the smoke,

“Fly, Ru, fly now!”

 Panic seized the young dragon as he fought smoke and fleeing bodies to find his parents. 

“Ru, love, you must go, “ his mother’s voice now, small and distant. Where was she? 

A thundering crack cut thru the chaos. Ruaric had never heard death before that night; the last pleas and bargaining haunted his thoughts all these years later. 

“Fly, Ru!”

The babe wrestled violently in Ruairc’s grasp, releasing the Dragon from his memory. Ruairc circled the treetops, scanning the ground below for movement. The last light of the day was slowly retreating; they’d have to take shelter soon. He drew in his  wings and aimed for a cluster of fallen trees, hoping their large trunks would provide enough shelter from the Night. His clawed feet touched ground noiselessly, and a moment later the Dragon’s wings disappeared, his large talons retracted. Long black hair replaced horns and scales and his eyes, a mixture of reds and yellows and always the last feature to change, gave way to pale gray.

“We must rest tonight, little one. They’ll be no friends in the woods now.” 

A gaping hole at the base of large oak presented the best option for refuge. Ruairc carefully placed the bundle on a makeshift bed of sticks and leaves and took a moment to examine the human. 

She was fully awake now. Eyes the color of the calmest ocean watched Ruairc closely. Her face was soft and trusting. Bright red lips punctuated her fair complexion like drops of blood on freshly fallen snow. She was as innocent as a newly born lamb.

Ruairc was terrified. 

He bent to his knees, unsure of what to say to a lost child left in the woods. 

“I am Ruairc, little one. I won’t hurt you, but you are in danger.” 

And because he was still unsure of how to converse with such a small human, 

“I am pleased to meet you.” He shifted awkwardly on his knees and flashed the babe a toothy grin. Her response, a small burp followed by a giggle, eased Ruairc’s nerves for a moment. 

“What, er, who are you? What is you name, I mean,” he asked, feeling immediately foolish. Can humans this small talk? 

Her small face wrinkled, a question forming behind intense eyes.

“Phe?” 

Ruairc struggled to understand, leaning in closer. 

“Phe?” Ruairc repeated back to her. He wasn’t sure what a phe was.

She clapped her hands together twice and nodded, looking pleased with herself. Ruairc smiled uncertainly back. Still no closer to discovering what a phe was, he was happy to learn the babe could speak, and even more assuringly, did not appear to be afraid of him. As if reading his thoughts, the child rose on unsteady legs and ambled over to him, collapsing in his lap. Ruairc held the babe close, vowing to protect her at all costs. As daylight quietly surrendered to night, the pair settled in. Ruairc allowed his eyes to close, returning once again to his thoughts. 

The first wave of killings was immediate. Those who resisted the takeover were gathered in the town square, heavy ropes digging into their necks, chains wrapped tightly across their chests. Archers were at the ready in case any of the captives were foolish enough to attempt an aerial escape. All were made to kneel and when the blades came down, Ruairc watched their blood fill the cracks and divots in the cobblestone. As he watched the Dark gather the fallen heads and discard them carelessly into a ditch; he was relieved his father had been killed in the initial raid. In the center of the Square, clothed in thick armor, the Dark One leered at the crowd and spread his arms wide. In one hand he held a bleeding head. Ruairc recognized the face of his neighbor, a sweet man who planted lavender and preferred the taste of vegetables to meat. The Dark One cast the head to the ground, daring the crowd to object. “Let this remind you, magic filth, we are in charge now!”  

A change in the air roused Ruairc from his dream. A moment later, he was on his feet, claws fully extended. The babe remained asleep, snoring gently.  

“Show yourself, coward,” he growled, feeling more Dragon than man as he shielded the sleeping babe from whatever presence was lurking in the trees. A rustle of leaves answered him and Ruaric’s eyes flashed red, prepared for an attack. 

“I am no coward, Dragon, I assure you,” the voice was followed by a whistle of air as an arrow struck the branch nearest Ruairc’s face. A warning shot. A moment later, the intruder stepped out from behind a tree. Ruairc faltered, unsure of what he was seeing. A slight woman with ashen colored hair and clear, blue eyes glared at him, daring his next move. She was the mirror image, different only in years, of the babe laying at Ruaric’s feet. 

“ I have more arrows and I’m out of warnings, so consider your next moves carefully” she spoke surely, unafraid of the beast in front of her. Ruairc’s claws remained extended, but he made no moves to attack and she continued.

“I am Ophelia of The Valle, daughter of the King and you have my sister.” 

The sleeping babe stirred and opened her eyes. A delighted squeal burst from her lips.

“Phe!” She shook off the cloth Ruaric had wrapped her in and rushed into her sister’s arms. Ruairc shifted uncomfortably as the sisters embraced, the elder still aiming an arrow at his head. He cleared his throat.

“I am Ruairc Dragon-born. I mean your sister no harm, I found her alone in the woods.”

“And you were doing what? Rescuing her? Bringing her back to your kind for praise? Or dinner,” her voice was soft but her tone deadly. She tightened her grip around her sister, shielding her from Ruairc. 

Ruaric felt anger rising. He hated being Dragon, it’d cost him everything. No matter the lengths he went to separate himself from his identity, he would always be Dragon and always be hated by outsiders. 

And for good reason. 

After The Dark had captured his kind and forced them into servitude, they’d been used for unspeakable horror. Ordered to protect the Dark One and his people, the Dragons hunted and killed at his will. They’d been peaceful creatures before, living side by side with the other magical creatures and humans for centuries. Now they were bred to kill and only a few remained that remembered life before the Takeover. 

“I do not kill for praise,” his words heavy with years of sorrow. “You and your sister are not safe in these woods. Wait for daylight and take her back to the Valle. You must wait for daylight, we hunt at night,” he added bitterly. 

Ophelia considered his words.

“Anya, her name is Anya,” she brushed the hair from her younger sisters face before adding, “I thank you for keeping her safe. But there will be no returning to the Valle. We are under attack.” 

“By whom?” Ruairc knew the answer even before she spoke. Fear rose up, tightening around his throat.

“The Dark One. And his…servants.” She chose the word carefully and Ruairc sensing her hesitation, retracted his claws, thankful for her compassion, however slight. “When?”

“The attacks began just before daybreak yesterday. The Giants came down the mountain first, killing those unfortunate enough to be outside the city gates,” pain filled her blue eyes briefly, replaced quickly by anger. “The Dragons followed, bringing their fire. I was separated from my sister in the chaos.” 

Ruairc felt the rage, familiar and all consuming, begin to rise up within. He’d seen far too much death and destruction since the Takeover years ago and now it was spilling into the far reaches of the Realm. He thought of his parents, killed in the destruction of Dragons Village the night the Dark descended. Dragons, Giants and other Magicial creatures had lived under their rule ever since, following their orders. Most had resigned to their new way of life, some thrived. He was tired of killing. He watched young Anya nuzzling the folds of Ophelia’s travel cloak. He felt a connection to the small child, a protection surging.

“Then we fight.”

Ophelia’s face hardened. “What do mean, “we”? Your kind are killing my people as we speak. How do I trust any Dragon?”



A smile spread across Ruairc’s lips as his resolve hardened, his mind made up.

 “ The Dark One took everything from me. He killed my parents and forced me to become a monster I don’t recognize. I struggle everyday to keep from surrendering fully to the Evil. Fight with me or not, I cannot stand by and let them do to your village what they’ve done to mine,” he looked at the child tucked between Ophelia’s boots, “protect her against the Dark that's coming.” He lowered his head in a farewell, before turning his back on the sisters. 

He’d walked several paces before he felt a tug on his pant leg. Anya smiled up at him. 

“Ru stay?” 

Ophelia laughed softly. 

“Well, if she trusts you…” she left the words in the air, offering a friendly smile.

Ruairc nodded, accepting the unspoken alliance. 

“We'll need help,” and with a sly grin, “ I hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

***

The air was cooler in the early morning hours; Ruaric could feel Ophelia shivering, but from fear or cold, he wasn’t certain. She held her young sister between her arms, hands clutching the rough scales of Ruairc’s neck. The Dragon’s wings sliced thru the air in a rhythmic whirling, taking them to the outer edge of his village. He knew there were allies among his people who remembered the days before The Dark came. They would help fight, he’d told Ophelia.

What if they don’t?

The question worried him greatly, but he flew on. There was no other choice. If the Dark One captured The Valle, there was no hope. He soared higher, letting the cold air distract his thoughts. Just as the sky crept towards daybreak, Ruairc spotted flickering lights below and began his descent. He felt Ophelia’s hand tighten as the ground rose up to greet them. The trio landed softly in an open field. Ruairc immediately retracted his wings and scouted the area for unwelcome company. Satisfied they were alone, he led the sisters to the nearest dwelling, a small thatched roof cottage with a single candlelight in an open front window. He motioned for the pair to stay while he approached the door. Flexing his fist, he extended a single claw and ran it across the wooden door in a complex pattern of swirls and dashes. With a final tap, Ruairc stood back and waited. His carving glowed a brilliant yellow before vanishing. In its place appeared a handle. Ruairc motioned for Ophelia and Anya to join him and the group quickly entered the cottage. 

Save for the single flame in the window, the room was dark and empty. Ruairc sensed trouble. He made to exit when a disembodied voice filled the room.

“Speak your intent pure, or I’ll open you from chin to belly.” 

Beside him, Ophelia reached for her arrows. Ruairc stayed her hand and spoke to the darkness, “I am Ruairc of the Realm. I come to seek the aid of my fellow Dragon-born.”

“Ruairc, you blundering fool, why’d didint yer say so right away?” a gruff voice filled the room and Ruairc eased his shoulders. Moments later, a worn face illuminated by a second candle, appeared in front of Ruairc and his companions. “I’da opened ye up, spilling yer guts on me clean floors.” 

“Much apologies, Badar, and no need to spoil your floors,” Ruairc smiled at the man, embracing him in a friendly arm shake before adding solemnly, "There is trouble in the Valle.”

Badar, a large man with a map of scars across his face, sighed heavily, “ I know, there's been murmurings among the allies. Bad things. They say they got the Giants goin down now. Twon’t be long fore there’s more slaves. Dark One won’t stop til he rules them all.” 

Ophelia cleared her throat. Badar eyed her suspiciously, but allowed her to speak.

“My people are in danger. Many are dead already,” she held her sister close, protecting the young girl from her words. “ Please, we need your help.” 

Badar grunted, “Your people, huh? Tell me, why’s a lass and her babe coming ter ask fer help? Where’s yer King? I’d tell him meself what I think.”

“The King and Queen are dead,” Ophelia said with no emotion, “ They were our parents.” She stroked her young sisters hair and looked directly into Badar’s scarred face, challenging him to object. Ruairc stared at Ophelia. He felt a longing to comfort her. Greif was a connector and he wanted to ease her pain.

“Bloody hell, Ruairc. Bringing royalty to me home and I have no food ter offer,” Badar growled, but motioned for the sisters to sit on what appeared to be the only piece of furniture in the room, a worn wooden chair with one leg whittled to a stub. He eyed Ruairc wearily, “So whats the plan, then, my old friend?”

Ruairc looked to Ophelia, who nodded, a silent expression of solidarity. 

“We gather the rest of the allies. Dragons, Giants, Werewolves, anyone willing to fight, and attack from land and sky. They may have numbers on their side, but we have nothing to lose,” he locked eyes with Badar, “I cannot live under captivity any longer, my friend.”

Badar sighed heavily, turning his back to Ruairc. The years since the Takeover had been long and he’d seen the horrors of evil, been forced to participate. Yes, he was tired, too. But what could they hope to do against The Dark? A soft hush hush from across the room broke Badar’s thoughts. Ophelia was comforting her young sister, promising her safety. He’d made his decision. 

“Ophelia of the Valle, in the name of the First Dragons, we will help you fight or die trying.” He smiled and directed his next words at Ruairc, “ Been waiting years ter say that.”

***

Word spread quickly among the allies and by nightfall, a crowd had gathered at the edge of The Forest. Many were Changed, waiting for the signal to attack. The excitement was barley contained. A Werewolf reared on her back legs, head thrown back in a howl. A Giant stomped his massive legs, shaking the earth. Dragons fought the urge to soar above the trees; opting instead to pace in wide circles, their leathery wings arched and ready for the command. Ruairc remained in human form, Ophelia at his side. Young Anya was absent, kept safe under the watchful eye of the elders. 

“Don’t be frightened, when I change,” Ruairc spoke softly.
Ophelia turned her body to face him fully. Her eyes were stone, her expression unfaltering.

“I am not afraid, Ruairc Dragon-born, especially not of you.” She stretched on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, a smile softening her features.

Badar rose to his full height, massive wings stretched wide. His eyes burned bright, two embers etched into a face the color of stone. He bared his fangs and sent a stream of fire over the crowd, signaling their attention.

“Brothers and sisters, for too long we’ve done the bidding of the Dark One.” Hissing and more foot stamping from the crowd. 
“ We’ve been enslaved, forced to kill for a master we don’t believe in. Now they seek more slaves and more power!”  A Dragon, crimson and twice the size of Badar, let out a screech and slashed her deadly tail in response. 

“Tonight we break free! We fight, come victory or death, we WILL BE FREE!” He let out an inferno fueled roar and pushed off the ground, flying low over the crowd.

Ophelia turned to face Ruairc, and found herself staring into his fire red eyes. She reached her hand to his face, pitch black and covered in row after row of sharp scales. 

" Lets fly, Ru,” she whispering, climbing onto his back and burying her face in his neck. 

***

The Dragons were the first to arrive, flying under cover of darkness and high above the Valle. Ruairc could just make out the Dark soldiers, standing guard outside the town center. There were many, numbering more than their force, but still they advanced. 

Come victory or death.

Ruairc signaled the others to stay and he descended, Ophelia leaning into the dive, hands tightening around his neck. He felt strengthened by her presence. When they reached the treetops, Ruairc pulled back and circled. He saw the villagers huddled together, guarded by soilders with spears. The beasts who’d sworn their allegiance to the Dark One prowled the perimeter of the Village, watching for an escapees. Ruairc was most concerned with the other Dragons, the ones who’d given up their humanity for power and followed the Dark blindly. They were ruthless and he knew their strength. He circled a final time before snapping his wings with force, riding the wind back up to his allies. 

“We’ll attack the guards first, drawing the Dragons into the air. That’ll give the Werewolves and Giants a chance to advance on foot,” he spoke with a certainty he didn’t feel. “ When we’ve secured the gate, we’ll join our support on the ground,” The others nodded their understanding, and Ruairc felt a surge of hope. “ No mercy will be given to us, let’s make sure we return the favor!” Several Dragons cheered as Ruairc circled one final time and drew his wings in, plummeting to the ground below.

They were ambushed immediately. Ruairc flew erratically, dodging blows of fire from enemy Dragons. He feared for Ophelia’s life; he’d been foolish to allow her to accompany him. 

“Stay low!” he roared over the battle cries.

She responded by tightening her legs around his back and pulling her bow back. Her aim was true as she let fly her gold tipped arrow, hitting the closet Dragon between the eyes. 

“You keep me out of your worries and handle the flying!” In that moment, Ruairc felt a surge of emotions; anger, hate..but more than those, he felt hope. He’d been living under the Dark for so long, he’d forgotten the power of love. With Ophelia taking aim from his back, Ruairc felt unstoppable. They flew on, defeating enemy Dragons until the skies were theirs once more.

There was little time for celebration as the battle raged on below. Magical creatures on both sides fought to the death, their cries reaching Ruaric and the otheres high above. It was Badar who led the pack this time. His eyes, wild with determination, met Ruaric’s.

“Into the Dark we go, my friend!” 

***

Ruairc landed on a pile of crumbling stone steps, breathing fire at nearby Dark soilders. Ophelia dismounted, bow up and ready. From the corner of his eye, Ruairc saw Badar take on two Werewolves at once, their yellow fangs dripping with dark blood. Ophelia took aim at one of the Wolves, striking him in the chest and immediaty reached for a second arrow. Before she could shoot, a deafening explosion shook the earth, knocking her to the ground. Ruairc stumbled over loose debris, his senses dulled from the blast. In the confusion, he watched as the Dark One appeared and swung a shining blade through the air, stricking down with fury. With the last bit of strenth he had left, Ruairc thrust his razor sahrp talons thru the chest of the Dark One, kncocking his aim off balance. Before he could make sense of anything, a second explosion knocked Ruaric to his knees and his world went black. 

***

The dead and dying lay where they fell, entombed in ash and crumbled stone. Ruairc stumbled over the destruction, bleeding heavily from a wound in his side. The blade had pierced the soft flesh between his protective scales. Now in human form, the damage was severe. He felt no pain, tho, his thoughts were of Ophelia. They were separated after the explosion and he feared the worst. A moan, weak and fatal, came from under a large stone slab. Ruairc summoned a strength from deep within and heaved the rock aside. The scarred and bleeding face of Badar stared up at him. Ruaric began to dig frantically, determined to free his friend. “Ru, you beautiful fool, leave me. I’m hurt an bad too.” He drew in a rattling breath and smiled, fresh blood staining his teeth. “But we did it, we’re free.” He sighed, emptying his lungs of the last breath and let his lifeless head fall back. Ruairc bent, touching his lips to his friends forehead. “ You fought well, old friend. Tonight, you are free.” 

A flash of white caught his eye, and Ruaric was on his feet, hand on his dagger. A moment later, Ophelia, badly battered and covered in ash, stumbled from behind a pillar and collapsed on the ground. Ruaric reached her in two bounds, gathering her slight body in his arms. She smiled, her eyes revealing the extent of her pain. “Ru, I’m sorry, I lost sight of Badar. I..I don’t know where he is” she closed her eyes, the effort to speak proving too painful. Ruairc’s heart tore at the sight of her. Her leg was broken, bone splintering through her flesh. He had to get her to the elders for care. There would be so many that needed care, and he was their leader, ready or not. He roared in pain as he Changed; he’d need his wings to reach the elders. He gently cradled Ophelia between his talons and took flight, soaring high above the destruction. They’d defeated the the Dark One. The road would be long and full of trials, but they were free.