~ The Attack – Destroyed dreams ~
WARNING: This young dragon will go trough a traumatic event!
There will be a description of him getting hurt.
Please, keep this in mind while reading the story! Thank you.
There will be a description of him getting hurt.
Please, keep this in mind while reading the story! Thank you.
Kylar knew that he shouldn’t have gone off alone to see the Cliffs of Gairfean. Usually, when going that far south, a group of young dragons would gather and an adult dragon has to accompany them.
But the stories! Everyone just kept talking about the Cliffs while ignoring the younger dragons questions. The place seems to be famous for having this gorgeous view of the sea and the sweet, tender strokes of sea wind currents. Not to forget, it was the perfect spot to watch the evening sun. Not that Kylar understood why some of the coupled dragons started giggling and getting dreamy eyes talking about that part. What was so funny about a sun getting to sleep behind the sea?
The sky above was cloudless, peaceful, a vibrant sapphire. It was quiet, peaceful, and the winds were just right to carry a young dragon all the way towards the south of the clan’s territory. Gliding through the air like this, Kylar could almost believe to be one with the sky and the winds
It had been quite easy to sneak out. “The sense of adventure and exploring lies in the Windsinger's brood,” the beloved saying of their teacher, Sorey. All hatchlings and young dragons of the clan were allowed to satisfy their curiosity, so each of them is given a map and compass to freely explore the surroundings and to safely navigate to their destinations. In Kylar’s chase, that was miles outside the places a young adventurer of his age should set foot into.
The beautiful Cliffs of Gairfean were also near the cantons of the Talonok Beastclan. Like most young dragons, Kylar knew nothing about them. Well, he did hear and learn about them during his lessons, but like dragons his age he’d never think they would be any threat to him. He was an Imperial, nearly a week old and had a length of around eight meters and the weight of a tonne. What threat does a Raptorik--relatively diminutive in size, most only slightly larger than a Fae dragon--possibly pose to him?
It took him a moment to realize she’d been hit in the face. Only after a few breaths Kylar noticed the Raptoriks around him. It was actually quite difficult to see them until they are close enough to strike.
“Oh, come on! What do you want? I’m just passing through! Get lost. I really don’t have time to play around!” The young dragon certainly didn’t think much about the Beastclan and just wanted to get on with his adventure.
Suddenly, a large gang of Raptorik’s gathered around Kylar, hitting, hitting, hitting. Attacking him all over. Ripping, ripping, ripping at the soft leather of his wings, tearing at them. Now he recalled his teacher's words about this enemy: “Raptorik appear in flocks and a dragon caught in such could get nearly cut to shreds. It's said that they are cunning and voracious, attacking relentlessly. So keep your distance, do you hear?!”
Kylar panicked. He tried kicking, he swung his tail, used his claws, but his yet uncompleted training did little for him. There were a dozen of them, all darting and diving like hundreds of knives cutting the air and they had sealed off any form of escape. His speed was no use to him, they weres so much faster. His talons couldn’t catch up to them. The young dragon was too inexperienced to get through.
Fear. He was a dragon, but he could do nothing. The sky was black, of the enemies feathers, Raptorik knives everywhere. Kylar could no longer see the sky. Where was it? The blue had disappeared. There was only blackness and flapping wings around him.
How could he not have remembered them sooner? How could he have been so arrogant? How could he be so terrified?
He tried to punch, tried to kick again, but each of his efforts were so meaningless. Panick. And then... the so familiar feeling of flight turned into something alien. The wind around him wasn’t supporting him anymore. He was kicked out, the winds didn’t want him in their domain anymore. The wind currents vanished before his eyes into nothingness. He crashed.
Black stars exploded in white skies. Kylar was so afraid. The Raptorik’s kept going after him. Still attacking while the young dragon stumbled towards the ground, hit down hard. He felt the impact, he twisted a wing. And then all emotions faded as he lost his grip on consciousness--and still they continued, continued, continued.
Kylar was dimly aware of the flock leaving. He laid his face on the abrasive stones beneath, praying they wouldn’t come back, hoping for unconsciousness. It didn’t come. He tried moving one of his wings. It was a bad decision. Pain immediately rushed through his beaten up boddy. More cautious this time the dragon lifted his face again and saw a pool of blood where his wing had been. His right eye was rapidly swelling shut, but the other was alright, for now.
He felt sick from the blow to the head he received as he’d crushed from the sky. There was a foul taste in his mouth along with the flat metal taste of blood. The world kept on spinning and closing his one eye only made it worse, much worse. His head felt barely connected to his body, moving at its own pace.
“I have to move,” he barely could pull his thoughts together.
Moving, he tried it again, slowly and somehow started crawling. He could crawl. Good. Part of him noted that he hadn’t broken either his arms or legs. Good, that was good. He didn’t believe he’d be able to walk, but crawling didn’t sounded bad for the time being. His talons were slick with blood, his ribs ached every time he took a breath, but he could manage.
“They doesn’t seem broken. It would hurt much worse. I think… that’s good.”
Unless, of course, his body was masking the pain. Bodies did that. Sorey had warned them to be cautious and not to underestimate the danger. A member of the party should always stay with the injured dragon while the other should return to the lair and bring help.
“Great… but I’m on my own! This was such a stupid idea! I shouldn’t have went off without the others!”
Something was burning around his shoulders, his wings felt as if they were on fire. Kylar was afraid to take a look, though. Just couldn’t, and still kept own crawling. He had to get up the little hill. It’d be a bad idea to stay down in the shadows. Reacting, not thinking. That’s all he could do. Kylar reached the summit five or ten minutes, or a year, later.
Where was this? He’d just seen everything from up the sky, before coming down, but he couldn’t remember. Couldn’t remember what part of the clan’s territory he was in. He couldn’t go any farther. His right eye was completely shut now. The pain wasn’t circulating as fierce anymore. Bad sign.
Helpless. He couldn’t do anything. Kylar started crying, he was just a little kid. Everything just hurt so bad.
A noise in the distance.When once more tried to open his good eye once again, everything was dizzy, flouting with tears. Then he saw someone landing a few meters away, walking towards him.
“Hush, come now, little one,” a dragon said over him. “Everything’s going to be fine. Such a brave boy you are.”
The voice sounded familiar, reassuring, comforting, calming. Kylar was sure, he knew this dragon. But he couldn’t answer, he didn’t even manage to stop crying.
“Ok, I’m going to pick you up now. Calm down, little one. Everything’s going to be fine. We will get you home. Hush, hush. This is probably going to hurt. Hush, boy. Here we go...”
Kylar was certain. This was a familiar voice, a familiar dragon. But, he just wasn’t able to remember, who it was...
The other dragon pickt him up, and Kylar promptly passed out.
When he woke, he was in a cave.He could tell someone had given him medicine for the pain, because he felt far too good. Kylar tried to look around, saw the world swim once again, and then recognized it. The infirmary! He was at Aztec’s place! This was home!
Tears run down his face. A feeling of relief washed over him. Safety. He’s going to be safe.
“Kylar?” Aztec asked. He was standing next to him, looking terribly concerned. “Can you hear me?”
“Hmm,” he said. Speaking was just too hard right now. Kylar could hear the familiar voices of his parents at the entrance. They must have rushed over as soon as they’d heard about their son. Nervous, agitated calls. It was too much. Kylar closed his eyes and went back into the calm arms of unconsciousness.
“No!” Kylar shouted.
Aztec just looked at him, then turned away, as if he was unable to bear the horror in the eyes of the young dragon.
Kylar was weeping. Not from the pain, though everything was pain now. He had lost everything. There was no playing with the kites anymore. No playing tag in the air with all the other hatchlings. No feeling of the wind beneath his wings. No jumping in the air and flying off.
He would never be one with the sky ever again.
He looked down, horrified, tears dripping down his face, unable to stop, unable to hide. Aztec came over, laid his right talon on Kylar's shoulder to comfort him. The young dragon started crying harder. He’d wanted to be one with the wind. Wanted to be able to fly just as good as any other dragon blessed by the Windsinger. He always wanted to be like the deity and his flock. And he’d failed them.
He took a towel, covered his head and the tears. Someone put an arm around him, and Kylar saw his father.
“Father,” Kylar said, sniffing. “I ... if I hadn’t ... if I only haven’t ... I should have ...”
“Kylar...”
“I have lost my wings,” Kylar said, not daring to look out under the towel over his head.
“Yes, son.” Eleison said. “Aztec and everyone did their very best, but the damage was quite severe. The Raptorik have damaged not only your leather wings beyond any healing possibility, the fall also torned some of your wing bones. I’m sorry, Kylar. You will never be able to fly again.”
He knew it, it had been impossible from the start. Wing injuries like that didn’t heal. He had been lucky his other injuries were easy to tend to.
The young dragon imagined his friends and all the other dragons standing proud at the Mistral Jamboree festival as fully fledged adults, having accomplished their Trial in the Vortex. Kylar suddenly felt the gulf between him and them intensely. Outsider, loner, alien. They were all he would never be again. And it was all his fault.
“Father?” he asked, more composed than before. “I’ll never be allowed to take my Ascent and Vortex trials like the others...”
“I’m sorry, but that is impossible.”
Honest. His father wasn’t trying to spare him from the bitter truth; and Kylar was thankful for that. But the bitterness still wrapped his heart and a deep coldness took hold of his very soul. Tears began to spill again from his helpless eyes In that moment the sure knowledge that life would go on without him, that the most important thing of a dragon's life was only taken from him, undid Kylar completely.
The grief came in waves and threatened to consume him entirely, for now. He was at the mercy of his own dark thoughts and only time would be able to close some of the holes in the young dragons heart.
Story written by myself
