Eyrir

Glitter by: TheEnforcer

An Icy Encounter

Her wings had always been weak, which was why she had had to have supports fitted. Cogs creaked as she flew, the silver metal cold, so cold pressed against her blue and grey Imperial scales. She wished she had insisted that leather was put on now, but at the time she hadn’t anticipated such a freezing winter.

Eyrir flew over white-blue tundra, the icy wind buffeting her from all directions. Her wing muscles strained to keep her up, and she panted from the effort, her breath forming crystal clouds. Her thoughts drifting back to the past, as she attempted to weather the cold.

Back when she was young and still in her small clan, she had been told not to fly for too long. She had hatched with weak wings, the muscles and bones not properly formed. She had looked on with envy as her friends learned to fly, watched them soar high into the sky. She had begged to have lessons on flight, too, not understanding that she was physically unable to. After weeks, months of asking in vain, Eyrir began to teach herself. She climbed trees and leapt out of them, usually falling straight down or spinning down like an ash key. She got braver, going higher, leaping further. She was covered in bruises, even though they didn’t show up much on her dark, patterned scales.

Her parents caught her eventually and, knowing she was stubborn enough to keep trying, they took her to someone who could help. The dragon they took her to was an old Gaoler, her horns branching widely. That, and the smell of hot metal, was all Eyrir could remember of the blacksmith dragon. The excitement of finally being able to fly eclipsed everything else.

She had been disappointed that she couldn’t fly right away. No matter how much she tried, she hadn’t managed to get above a couple of feet. Looking back now she could see how silly she had been, thinking she could fly right away, as if she had magically been healed. Her parents had wanted her to stay on the ground, to stay in the safety of the clan. Of course, Eyrir being Eyrir, she had learned to fly with the metal supports and, several years later, flown away north. She hoped to find more understanding dragons on her travels.

She didn't notice how low to the ice she had gotten until a downdraft blasted into her. She was thrown to the ground, the cold, wet ice. Luckily it wasn’t too far a drop, but still, it hurt. She groaned and didn’t bother moving, exhaustion seeping into her bones. She had been flying on and off for days, so much longer than she ever had before, and it was taking a toll on her.

Eyrir lay there for a while. She knew she should move so that she did not freeze, but her body would not do as it was told. The abyss of sleep was almost claiming her when a thud, thud, thud, destirbed her. She blearily looked around her and spotted a blue… something charging towards her.

For a moment her brain said it was fine and she could slip into sleep, then instinct overrode thoughts and she sprang stiffly to her feet, nearly falling over. She recognised the beast as a Bluefin Charger, a creature who broke through ice to drown its prey. She had seen them in the distance before and always thought they were small.

This one was not small in the least. It was massive, or bigger than her, anyway. It charged blindly towards her, ice cracking and splintering beneath its hooves. She scrambled away, flapping weakly to try to get into the air. Her wings, and the rest of her, was too stiff and tired to do much more than clamber away as quickly as she could. The snorting and pounding hooves of the Charger grew closer, louder, shaking the ice. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get away in time.

Eyrir shut her eyes when the ice trembled and groaned beneath her claws. This creature was not going to stop, that much was obvious. She would be plunged into the freezing water and be trapped under sealing ice, without air, without escape. Just like the hunted beasts before her.
There was no point in struggling away.

The Bluefin Charger was almost upon her, and she curled into a ball to protect herself as best she could, preparing for it to slam into her or for the water to claim her.
Yet neither happened.

The ice rocked beneath her, making Eyrir dig her claws into it to stop herself from sliding about. She could hear heavy breathing above her and she peeked up, letting out a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding. The Charger was standing right by her, legs spread to keep its balance and eyes squinted at her, apparently short sighted. It snorted and nudged her with a nose, its small fins and ears twitching. Did it want her to get up? It seemed that way.

She gulped and gingerly stood. The ice, though not broken, was spiderwebbed with cracks and felt like what she thought standing on a bubble would be like. Surely it would break if she moved?
The Charger nudged her again and looked to the east, as if it wanted her to go that way. Too cold and tired to do much else, she took a step in that direction and cringed, expecting a crack. When none came she took another step, then another, the creature trotting lightly beside her.
Together they headed slowly east.
Where was it taking her?

The Charger led her to a small community of dragons, all of whom welcomed her with open wings. They were so kind, so thoughtful. Eyrir couldn’t help but like them all.

The Bluefin Charger that had led her there vanished soon after, coming back a week later with a conker clenched in its jaws. Other dragons tried to take it from the creature, thinking it wanted to play, but it refused to let them have it and found Eyrir as soon as it could. It gave her the conker, a faint smile on its lips, and let her be.

The conker smelled of her parents, faintly, but definitely there.
They must have known she was safe.

Lore by: Flitt






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