Windriders

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. In fact, there was still a place in recent living memory when dragons hadn’t existed at all. They had resided solely in paintings and books, adorning murals or embroidery. They decorated the prows of ships, or guarded the gates to castle ramparts. Figureheads and statues carved from wood or stone. Or even cast from light, reflected a hundred different colours through painted glass windows. They were creatures of myth after all. The fanciful imaginings of some long dead scholar. Brought to life purely by the flourish of an artist’s hand, or moulded by the fingers of a gifted sculptor.

Of course, there had always been the lingering belief that, humans as a race, lacked the required imagination to conjure up such creatures from subconscious thought alone. Dragons therefore, must have lived before. At least, some approximation of a dragon. If only for all those, sufficiently skilled individuals, to have been inspired to produce such art in the first place. There were also the literary works to consider after all. Dusty volumes that dotted libraries across the continent and placed the creatures, among other fantastical beasts, in captivating and dramatic tales. Or, on rarer occasions, described them in scholarly papers, surrounded by scribbled, hard to read, notations.

Regardless of their earlier historical distinctions or depictions. One thing was now certain. Dragons were indeed, very real. And nobody could have prepared for the ten years of devastation that had shook the human populace since their emergence.

#

Skylar peered down into the valley below and a well of emotions stirred within her. The small village, barely visible from her high vantage atop the cliff, was nestled at the heart of a deep bowl, shaped by the natural formation of the rocky peaks all around it. Surrounded on all sides by high mountain ridges and ringed by a circlet of dense woodland, the simple structures of the village seemed hidden and tucked away from the rest of the world.

That hadn’t spared it from the desolation, that still now plagued the remainder of the continent. Skylar had been merely eight years old, when a brood of dragons had flown down past the mountains and attacked her home. She remembered vividly the moment they had descended upon the settlement, sweeping in across the valley like dark cloud, blanketing the landscape in shadow. Winged monsters, tearing through the sky, obscuring the sun, spreading flame and ruin in their wake. The smell of fire, smoke, blood and burnt flesh had lingered thick in the air, clogging her nose, burning her throat, chocking her lungs.

In that moment she could almost still smell it, the vision so fresh and painful in her mind. Skylar had lived through that day. Her, and her younger brother, Tobias. Two survivors, from a settlement housing almost a hundred. She found herself greatly disturbed by the fact that, despite the clarity of the recollection, she struggled to remember the faces of her parents. She could picture them looking down at her, their eyes tearful and full of affection, yet at the same time, resolute and firm. But their features, their facial characteristics, were fuzzy and indistinct. She hadn’t found time in that moment to truly take in what was happening. When her parents had both cast one final, knowing glance back at her and her brother, before lowering the cellar door, locking the bolt and plunging them both into total darkness.

She evoked a memory of holding Tobias tightly, the two of them huddled in the dark, eyes shut, ears covered, trying to blot out the sounds of the cries above. There had been a long, drawn-out hush when the screaming had finally ended. A stillness that was hard to describe. In mere moments, a bustling hamlet of families and farmers, workers and friends, had been silenced, like the passing of a brisk wind snuffing out a crackling flame.

Skylar opened her eyes slowly, easing herself back to alertness and the present, feeling a single wet tear roll down her left cheek. She cursed, feeling ashamed at losing herself to the moment of weakness. She hated thinking back to that day. Hated remembering her own helplessness. Of course, there was nothing that her younger self could have possibly done to stop the destruction of the village. Still, it hurt to consider potential alternatives. Admittedly, most of those also involved herself and her brother dying too. All she could do now, was move forward.

Inhaling deeply, she calmed her thoughts and prepared to turn from her perch and stand, when something prodded her sharply in the middle of her back. She twisted her head slowly, glancing over her right shoulder to find a vast, dark shadow looming over her.

Skylar’s face shifted immediately to a grin, as her goliath of a horse, again pressed his head forward to nudge at her. Nimbus was enormous. A colossal black stallion that stood far taller than the largest destrider. At five years old and around eighteen hands high, he was in the prime of his health. His build was bulky and muscular, with a wide back and broad chest. His thick mane was long and draped down the side of his neck like a dark curtain. His eyes, large and dark, were set high on a long, lean head, their glistening pupils reflecting the morning sun.

He snorted loudly and once again thrust forward towards Skylar. This time she raised her arms and caught hold of his neck, allowing him to pull her up to her feet. Her legs protested as she stood. Numbness bleeding out of them after finally rising from, what must have been a prolonged squat. She blinked, hastily wiping her damp left cheek and then slowly began to arch backwards, stretching out her spine and extending her arms. Nimbus watched as she moved to work some feeling back into her limbs. He snorted again, then began pawing irritably at the ground with one of his front hooves.

“Alright, I’m coming,” Skylar groaned, rolling her eyes at the impatient animal. She finished stretching, then circled round to his left flank where she threw her left foot into the stirrup. Then, grabbing the saddle with both hands, she launched herself upwards, swinging her right leg high and vaulting into place on his back.

Skylar was reasonably tall, at her eighteen years she had evidently stopped growing, but stood just shy of six foot in her stepped riding boots. Still, it was a task for any person to gracefully mount a creature as big as Nimbus. She liked to think that, by now at least, she could manage it whilst retaining some dignity. She was lean and well-muscled herself, in a world such as they lived now, children had lost the novelty of a simple upbringing and were both worked and trained extensively from an early age. Skylar was thankful for her hard-earned physique; it projected an outward appearance of being strong and in control. A façade she could wield like a sword or a shield. It was a guise she could feel safe behind, most of the time.

She bristled at recalling her brief emotional lapse and shook her head, resolute. Her hair flicked from side to side as she moved. It was long and black, falling in crashing waves down to about the middle of her back. It was not as deep black or smooth as Nimbus’ coat, more a windswept mess of thick, dark locks. Currently it remained somewhat under control, having been pulled in from both sides and woven into some semblance of a braid at the centre.

“Right,” She asserted “you ready?”

Nimbus stamped once with his front hoof in response and raised his head high, ears pricked and pointed forwards. Skylar pulled at a leather strap in front of her that was attached to a point just below the pommel of the saddle. She looped it twice through a metal ring, that centred on a thick belt she wore high around her waist, then pulled it taut. Holding his mane loosely in both hands she then turned his head to the right and squeezed with her legs. Nimbus turned and began walking, he had a smooth and gentle gait for such a big unwieldy animal. He paced, around twenty strides forward in the chosen direction, then abruptly stopped and turned about full circle. He stood still, waiting patiently this time. Though his body was still alert and raring to go, he would hold, until the given command from Skylar.

“All yours” she finally said, smiling.

Nimbus whinnied loudly, then briefly reared up onto his hind legs, forelegs raising high off the ground. Skylar leaned in toward his neck to counter the movement, then dropped back slightly, as his front hooves slammed back down to the ground and they took off at a gallop. The ground rushed by below them, hurtling past at a frightening speed, before eventually disappearing completely as they reached the edge of the cliff and leapt forward into the open air.

For a few seconds they fell. Skylar once again leaning low over Nimbus’ neck hugging the horse tightly. Then in a sudden gust, the momentum of the drop ceased abruptly. They lurched upwards, as great black wings unfolded outwards from either side of Nimbus’ flank.

The wings were like that of a great bird, made up of individual feathers each as long as Skylar’s forearm. They fanned out in uniform layers forging an enormous span probably twelve feet across. They were strong and powerful, holding completely still against the wind, allowing Nimbus to glide steadily, maintaining altitude. They drifted peacefully for a while, the beauty of the horizon and the rising sun seeming to stretch out endlessly before them. Then Nimbus began to beat his mighty wings up and down in a heavy rhythm lifting them higher and higher into the sky.

#

At first Skylar had hated the dragons. For what they had done to her village, for the destruction they currently wrought upon the world. But the truth was, nobody knew why they were here, what the people were seemingly being punished for. One thing she did know however, was that had events not taken place as they had, she never would have become a Windrider.

It was a truly selfish thought. That the lives of millions of people had been lost and it was purely the desperation of the situation, that had granted her opportunity to join the once elite group of Pegasus knights and be raised high above her upbringing.

Still, she couldn’t help feel some small elation at her present circumstances. Being in the sky, above the clouds, nothing but the wind in her ears and the sun on her face. It was the only place she truly considered herself at home. She could leave the troubles of the world behind and feel genuinely at peace. She listened to the thumping of Nimbus’ great wings beside her legs and could sense his own delight at being airborne once again, floating on the winds.

Skylar almost envied the dragons, envied that they could ride the skies as Nimbus did. That they could cross the entire continent, even go beyond the vast seas, solely on the back of their own desire to do so. That they-

“Sky!”

The shout interrupted her thoughts. She blinked and looked about, searching unsuccessfully until the call came again.

“Sky! Over here”

She glanced over her shoulder and spotted another rider waving at her from a little way behind. He was almost invisible against the clouds, riding astride a beautiful white Pegasus. She smiled broadly, waved back and then pointed to a clear outcropping of cliff just below their current position.

The two riders arched across the sky, circling wide and descending gracefully, before coming to land on the open plateaued section of the cliff. They each dismounted and Skylar had barely unhooked the belt straps from her saddle and dismounted before being enveloped in a tight hug. She admittedly, wasn’t normally one for physical displays of affection, but in this instance, she allowed it. To be honest, she didn’t have much choice in the matter, the arms that embraced her were solid as tree trunks. She tried to return the gesture, but her own hands couldn’t meet behind the riders back, on account of his broad chest and wide shoulders. Eventually he released her, stepping back, Skylar looked up and smiled at the familiar face.

Rayven was a couple of years older and about half a head taller than Skylar. He had a handsome face, with strong features and a solid jawline. Though he normally kept his face clean shaven, it was currently displaying some dark stubble. He looked more rugged than usual, his short, dark blonde hair ruffled and windswept. His eyes, ringed slightly by tired circles. They were kind eyes and their dark grey colouring seemed to alight when he smiled back at her.

He was wearing riding leathers, the same as her. Knee high brown leather boots with buckles up the side, dark leather trousers, patched and slightly padded around the inner thighs. A white linen shirt, pulled in at the waist by a thick, black leather belt, from which hung a silver metal ring at the centre. Finally overlaid by a brown leather jacket, which featured slightly cuffed sleeves and was full length, as opposed to Skylar’s which was cropped above the waist. The jacket bore the Windrider’s insignia patch on both shoulders, a pair of outstretched silver wings joined in the middle by a white diamond at the centre.

“Glad I caught up to you,” Rayven stated, “I’d just got back to Meridian when Tobias told me where you’d gone”

He looked at her with concern. He could probably read from her expression what emotions, returning to her home, must’ve pulled back to the surface. No matter how she tried to disguise it. Damn it, he knew her too well.

“I’m fine,” Skylar said, “I will admit it though, it is a nice surprise to see you”

She threw him a smirk, then walked over to Rayven’s mare, the beautiful white Pegasus was not quite as large as Nimbus. But still a giant compared to any ordinary horse. There was an elegance and grace to her leaner, slightly slender frame.

“And Astrid of course”

“Of course,” Rayven laughed; “you ’know sometimes I’m not sure who you’re most eager to see, me or my horse.”

“Well, I think we can both agree this lady deserves far better distinction than just being referred to as ‘your horse” Skylar said, nuzzling her head against Astrid’s muzzle. Pegasi wore no reins or bridle. They tolerated the saddle, but would not allow a rider to place any further restraints upon them, such as the headgear worn by more common mounts.

This placed a far greater requirement of skill on the rider, who had to direct the animal more with pressure through their legs and occasionally slight tugs of the mane. That and of course the fact these creatures could fly. A rider’s belt brace might keep them physically attached to the saddle, but staying seated and in control was a whole different matter. Skylar finished fussing with Astrid and turned back to Rayven

“Besides, I didn’t come all the way out here, just to reminisce and mope, Ray”

“You, moping, why that’s so unlike you,” he said sarcastically, then in a more serious tone, after she moved in to give him a quick swipe, “So, what are you out here for then?”

She scowled at him, apparently vexed by his little quip. Then rolled her eyes and sighed.

“There’s a dragon in Arrunstead. A Thunderclap. Female by the size. Apparently, she was first spotted a few days back, hasn’t moved since.”

“And…?” Ray prodded.

“And… The fact she’s still there indicates she’s nesting. Thunderclaps don’t stay in one place for that long unless they’re waiting to lay. I was about to head back to Meridian, but well… now that you’ve shown up...”

“Oh, I don’t like this,” Ray stated. He could already see Skylar had got that look in her eye. A look that usually meant she was about to do something either incredibly stupid or incredibly dangerous. Often both.

“It’s what all the mages back at Meridian are desperate for. They keep telling us, the only chance we have against the dragons, is if we can study them and learn their magic’s and weaknesses. Well, what better opportunity than this?

We’re going to go down there and we’re going to steal a dragon egg.”