The Storm's Gift

The Storm’s Gift

A storm is a fickle thing. The myriad of clouds fluctuate and shift with the winds, sometimes rising, building into a dense blockade in the sky as dark as the deepest ravine. Rumbling so violently the ground trembles with each crack, the darkness splitting with spreading fingers of light and static stretched across the sky. Torrential sheets pound across the undergrowth over and over, forcing the animals to hide in their deepest burrows and bow their heads against the force while the trees bend threatening to break.

And sometimes, those same clouds are little more than gently rolling hills painted upon the sky, a touch grey and quiet as a whisper. A slight wind dances through the leaves and ferns bringing a scent of rain and the drops are soon to follow, speckling the ground lightly until there are no spots left to stain.

For each storm that caressed the valleys, mountains, lakes, and rivers of this region there was the cause that brought it, every part of it slipping off their wings as they crossed the sky. Dragons, as great as the sun, as powerful as the strongest drum of thunder, and as striking as the most shocking crash of lightning. And among them was the queen.

Her scales were as blue as the sky changing their hue to match as the day wore on and night crept closer. When the sunset cast its glow upon the land her talons were dipped in the crimson red closest to the sun while pinks and purples rose up her form and faded into her wings' darkest blue. A crown of horns graced her head, twisting up and out for some while others were whispy and unrefined, as fleeting as the clouds were. Often when she took flight and the clouds followed her path one would struggle to find her wings among them, closely huddled to her form in swooping drafts, swirls of fog and rainwater. Once in a while, they’d condense, as solid as ever buffeting the land with strong winds with every flap. Legends will tell that every strike of lightning that ever reached across the sky came from her breath, her maw stretched wide unleashing a booming roar along with those bolts of light.

The storm is a legacy, carried on within the wings and the talons of every dragon that breathed its lightning, but there is only one Queen and her name is Valka. The world always knew when she took the skies, for the rain held little twinkling winks of light making the world believe if only for a moment that the stars were falling for them.

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The wind carried an arid tang to it that burned the nostrils and made the eyes water, the smell a sort of familiar any instinct would drive an animal away from. She knew it well as they did, but flew towards the source bringing a cleansing rain with her to wash it away and calm the agitation. To anyone fire was an all-consuming disaster, ripping all that you knew from you in a blaze of heat and force and leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. But why was it here?

Valka banked to the right beginning a slow wide spiral to bring her closer to the ground to survey what had happened beneath the cloud line. The smoke hit first, thick plumes rising away from the remains of what could only be a human village deep within the mountains. Not a single building had escaped the flames, and it seemed not a single person had truly escaped either. There were some that had escaped the confines of the village but still lay dead in the dirt just beyond. It made her wonder what exactly had happened here.

Leaning back her wings swept forward a few times slowing her descent as her back talons touch the ash-covered ground, the resulting gusts stirring up the remains before they settled again once her wings were folded to her sides. Careful steps were taken through the village, avoiding the bodies that had managed to escape their burning homes yet still found fire outside. Many of the places had evidence of their doors being barred shut, locking them inside and in their desperation, the trapped humans had broken windows and leaped.

This was no accident and the more the dragon saw the more she was convinced of this. Stab wounds stop the lucky ones, discarded torches in bales of hay and hoofprints both coming to and leaving the village. This had been an attack, a show of force for no reason other than violence; the full stores of food and supplies told her that. Such attacks were not uncommon for humans, the constant fight for territory and power drove them to send their armies where ever they could. If Valka had to guess, this village had probably started here to avoid a hostile takeover by another kingdom and had only postponed their inevitable demise.

Such foolishness never made sense to her. Fight for territory and reputation was one thing, dragons practiced similar policies but would never attack those uninvolved to prove their might. What could you possibly prove with the senseless slaughter of civilians? It was nothing but cruelty and she could never understand the workings of a mind that would choose to do such things even in times of war. It mattered little though, the behavior of humans did not concern her and it only would if they ever made the mistake to turn their blades on her kind and her domain. But she doubted they would ever truly make such a mistake.

Thankfully the fire had not spread, and no embers remained to catch on something else and start it up again so no threat remained. Her wings opened once more and she leaped into the air with a powerful downbeat scattering more ashes once again. She climbed further into the sky and circled back to catch the storm she had brewed earlier and spread it over the village and the lands around it, bathing the scorched earth in relief and much-needed water. In time what remained of the structures would disappear and the natural world would reclaim this place just as it had been before. The world would move on all the same.

As the rain swept over the land by her design she left its clutches, the final wisps of cloud trailing off her wings as she took a moment to simply enjoy the gift of flight. It was one she was born with of course, but from the moment the wind first touched her wings and her talons left the earth she had loved it. The sky was her domain, a playground more expansive than any kingdom or territory and it was hers to enjoy. Clipping her wings she dove, pulling herself into a tight spin and gradually spreading her wings to cut through the air leaving wind trails off the ends of her wings. As the trees grew closer and closer she righted herself and spread her wings wide catching herself and swooping low enough to drag the top boughs along with her if only for a moment. Strong beats of her wings quickly left the ground behind and she breached the clouds like a whale, flipping over as she crossed and scattering wisps of cloud all around her. She laughed with joyous abandon as she fell backward to crash through once more in a reckless freefall.

A child's cry broke through her play, barely audible through the rushing of wind around her ears, and Valka abruptly halted leveling herself out in the sky and listening hard. Without the wind the cry was clear as day, terrified bawling strained from a voice that had spent too much time this way and it came from the depths of the forest. She dove down, sweeping over the treetops looking for the source, and finally spotted the child wandering in a circle among the moss near a small river’s bank. Her low glide halted in the air above, considering the situation and ultimately landing nearby.

Even with her huge size and the sound accompanying her landing the child was too distraught to really notice. His face was scrunched up and dirty with soot and mud, streaked through by his almost constant tears. Small scratches and bruises covered his body showing his stumbling path through the undergrowth and his clothes hadn’t faired much better. What little burns he had told her he was a survivor of the attack on the village nearby and perhaps the only one. The dragon could only guess that his mother had some warning before it truly started and managed to get her child out, to run before perishing herself to a wayward blade.

“Poor thing,” She mused. “You won’t survive the night. It’s a miracle you’ve survived this long and yet no one is here to look for you.”

Lowering her head Valka lightly nudged the child with her nose, knocking him on his butt and finally getting his attention. He sniffled and hiccuped through his tears staring wide-eyed up at her, having not quite been taught to fear dragonkind he gazed with only curiosity.

“Little one, you can’t keep making a noise like that, you’ll attract all sorts of animals that would sooner eat you.”

The boy didn’t appear to understand her at all, but his tears had stopped at least so there was something. But then he reached up with those tiny dirt-covered hands and grabbed her nose and smiled like he was happy to see her. Valka jolted pulling her head back and he came with her, hanging off her snout like a gaudy ring, and giggled as if this was some kind of ride.

“What- are you doing child?!” She asked flabbergasted plucking him off her nose and holding him by the collar of his shirt.

He stretched out his tiny hands towards her trying to reach and declared, “Mama!”

What could she do but stare? Had the child been apart from his human mother long enough to forget her already? Was he perhaps too young to really identify her in such a way? She knew that humans lacked the imprinting instinct that creatures and dragons had but surely it was not this simple? Perhaps it wasn’t that simple. No, it may be that he had known so much fear and loss in a short time that her kindness, however brief, however minimal had been enough to make him feel safe. And that was the end of it.

She set him down silently and he waddled over to her talons and hugged as much of them as his tiny arms could, squeezing with what little strength he had. Truthfully it was cute and Valka felt a twinge in her heart for the small one, he reminded her of the many hatchlings that clambered over her for attention. And perhaps they weren’t so different in that respect, he was but an unwitting victim of crimes other humans had committed. Perhaps his story didn’t need to end here, not like this.

“Yes little one, mama,” She told him lowering her head to nuzzle his cheek as gently as she could. “Come you are deserving of a better home than this.”

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Years passed and the cruelty of the human kingdom only grew. Countless humans perished under the army’s boots and the land was ravaged, what once was flourishing forests, mountains, valleys, rivers, and lakes had become barren and dry. For conquest was the only thing the emperor wished to see, he would not stop until all domains were under his control and after 20 years he had set his sights upon the dragon lands. Unbeknownst to him, he would not succeed.

A young man prepared himself for battle, wearing storm-scale armor that sparked with the queen’s electricity, a dragon fang blade at his hip. His body bore scars from training but it had grown into a fine specimen of a human, raised in the Court of Dragons as one of their own. His magic had soared with theirs and his skills could outmatch any human warrior in the world, like an unspoken prophecy he was destined to put an end to the emperor.

Such a future had never been forced but just as the dragons had witnessed the suffering, so too did he. They opened their doors to refugees and put an end to marching armies set on destruction, but ultimately he made the choice to begin this war. He knew the damage firsthand, and he wanted it to end more than anyone else.

“Are you ready little one?” Valka rested behind him, proud as ever of her son and all that he had become.

“Yes mother,” He said. Running a hand through his hair he put his helmet on and faced the grand door