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beforeyoufall-bk · 2 years ago

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Into The Bright Sky — Act II: Born Into Slavery

Act II: Born Into Slavery

Act II: Born Into Slavery

The woman’s scream echoed throughout the misty forest.

For a brief moment, Eigyys raised his head in alarm, tracking the distance from his location. He was duty bound to investigate the sounds of struggle that technically lay within his protected zone. Letting out an annoyed snort, he silently wondered if he would ever have a peaceful lunch in this cursed forest.

He had already devoured three wolfsteins and one very large orc, the commander of a poaching band that had the misfortune to stumble upon Eigyys’ territory. A very fortuitous find for an elderdrake of the Bright Sky.

It was rare that such a clumsy band would be brave or foolish enough to pillage Autfaer Forest. Only once or twice a year would a band of orcs, wolfensteins, or trolls take on the heart of the forest, where most of the dragon boons and whelps were to be found. Furthermore, tales of exaggerated dangers lurking within the forest were spread all across Lilephar. All of dragonkind made sure of that.

By the time Eigyys gulped down the final bite of his meal, the shouts of panic and clashes of steel-on-steel could now be heard within a two-league radius. Stretching out with his two front claws, he let out a long yawn that ended in a belch.

It is a good thing dragons are not easily embarrassed, he grinned to himself, as he debated delaying longer for takeoff.

A small boy’s squeal followed by more shouts snapped Eigyys out of his lethargic reverie. He shuddered as his mind idly speculated on what sorts of fools would bring a family into such a dreadful place.

“The greed for riches far outweighs the intelligence of these cursed creatures of Lilephar…” he growled under his breath, taking one last stretch before launching into the sky.

When he arrived, the battle was nearly over. Human carcasses littered the ground with two kobolds also slain. But three particularly menacing kobolds remained, hemming in the remaining survivors against a giant tree trunk.

Their prey was a large man brandishing a broadsword in protection of a crying boy, no more than 4 years of age. Eigyys instantly determined that the warrior was already a dead man walking, bleeding heavily from a vicious wound on his side.

But the boy had no understanding that his protector was already beyond hope, and jumped in front of the man with an unintelligible scream of fury and sadness.

The warrior quickly snagged the boy by the scruff of his neck and pulled him back as the trio of kobolds moved in for the kill.

One kobold came at them from the left while the other two flanked right. In a flash, the man flicked the tip of his blade and skewered the charging beast to his left, surprising another on his right with a hastily thrown dagger from his boot. But the third kobold pounced, taking advantage of the man’s imbalanced pose, and shoved his dagger straight into the man’s throat.

Eigyys expected the boy to crumble, but instead the little one swiftly plucked the dagger from his protector’s throat and lunged toward the kobold, striking him in the thigh. He had never seen such fire in a human so young.

The kobold cried out in pain, backhanding the child who went flying, air exploding from his lungs as he slammed to the ground.

Eigyys had seen enough. Without warning, he slammed down with full force pinning the remaining two kobolds underneath his foreclaws. Frozen in place, he patiently waited for their muffled death rattles to fade out. Once satisfied that all threats had been permanently silenced, he looked down curiously at the small boy.

The human was small, even for his kind. But he stood tall, almost defiant. There was something different about him, something Eigyys could only describe as… holy.

This one might be worth saving.

“What is your name, little one?” Eigyys asked softly.

“J-J-Jahréim… Jahréim Greihart.”

“You did a brave thing, lad.”

“B… b-b-but… Pa-”

“I witnessed all. We must let go of dark deeds that no longer exist. Evil has taken enough lives this day. Do not let it inflict pain on another like yourself.”

Jahréim tried to get his emotions under control, but failed. The ragged breaths between sobs continued to fall, echoing throughout the dark glade.

“Hush now. Hush, Jarhe… Jahah… Jayhe…” Eigyys snorted in frustration as his forked tongue struggled to repeat the child’s accented name.

Finally, he decided to just rename the boy. “James,” he finished.

Eigyys’ discomfort calmed the boy enough to regain control and he began staring up intently, waiting for what might happen next. Bringing his head down to the forest floor, Eigyys looked him deep in the eyes until James met his gaze.

“There is only one thing to fear and that is not being true to yourself and your feelings. Fearing anything else, besides the war you must wage upon your own self every day, is a waste of time and energy. That is the way of the Bright Sky.”

“The… Bllight Skai?”

“Bright, yes. My thunder. My brethren.”

James crunched up his face in thought, “More like you? Can I be like you? Strong to help protect?”

“Hush James… I shall return you to safety, to your brethren so that you may put this all behind you.” Eigyys promised.

“But I have no where… no one else… sir.”

“I’m sure there are others of your kind who will help.”

“No sir. No others to go. I’m alone.” James said, bowing his head.

From what the dragon knew of humans, the boy spoke true. They were not likely to take in nor care for this small one. He would be a slave at best, a tool for dark deeds at worst.

The dragon once again noticed something different about the boy. James did not plead, did not cower. He waited. Then and there Eigyys made up his mind. He would care for the boy.

“Very well,” Eigyys said aloud, “I will look after you.” James’ head shot up, his puffy eyes glimmering fearful with hope.

Heimlock watched the dragon and boy from the shadows, his wings held close to his back.

This was it. He could not have asked for a better trap to be set.

For Heimlock, the scene exhibited the most prominent weaknesses of all Thunderborn: Empathy. Charity. Compassion. And of course, the only weakness that mattered in the eyes of him and all his brethren: Hypocrisy.

Each Thunderborn whelp quickly buried any deficiencies deep under their scales in embarrassment, like unplanned whelp eggs ready to burst. Eventually, they would hatch and give birth to centuries of pain and failure. And because of that shame of imperfection, their weaknesses would only continue to multiply.

In contrast, the moment a Dark One hatched they would focus solely on their weaknesses. They labored to understand and accept them. And because of this, they would never feel ashamed to use them to their advantage.

On all fours, Heimlock gently pushed himself backwards from the scene on his outstretched talons. He could not wait to inform all Dark Ones of this most precipitous event.

From the beginning, the Dark Ones thrived in shadow. Watching, waiting, and seeking out weaknesses to exploit. Unparalleled grifters. Professional murderers.

It all began when the war on dragons had reached its peak of anarchy. For what seemed an eternity, dragonkind ruled over all land and sea and the smaller, lesser races had had enough.

Lilephar’s war of all wars lasted over 700 years: The Dilatory Wars. After almost eight centuries, the dragons realized that if the war continued, all life on Liliphar would cease to exist. So, a thundercry was made for a truce.

The negotiations were long and bitter. In the end, the lesser races would accept only one avenue for peace: sacrifice. Each mating season one whelp, the first whelp hatched, would be caged and presented to each race that managed to preserve order through seven centuries of strife: The humans, the dwarves, the elves, the kobolds, the orcs, and the giants.

Over centuries, hundreds of drakes were chained, muzzled, and treated as slaves or playthings by a bitter aristocracy. After three hundred years, the pact was finally abolished, and peace without sacrifice once again reigned across Lilephar. They had hoped that once all dragon slaves perished, an imperfect fellowship would spread throughout the land. But all it accomplished was the birth of a greater threat to peace: the Dark Ones.

With generations of pent-up wrath pushing him onward, Heimlock swiftly made his way back towards the bowels of Mount Geokeiss. To his secret home.

To all in Lilephar, Mount Geokeiss was a barren place that even the toughest of dragonkin believed uninhabitable. But the first dragon to survive and escape slavery had no choice but to moot deep within its core.

Acrid toxic fumes permeated every inch of its caverns, ensuring only the strongest and most stubborn dragons would survive to call Geokeiss their home. Over time, its fully populated caverns had become an intimidating underworld fortress none knew existed, allowing them to plan and operate in stealth.

Upon Heimlock’s return to Geokeiss, hissing wails of joy echoed throughout the dark catacombs as he gave news of an elderdrake adopting a young boy into the Bright Sky. As word spread the celebration grew louder and louder, shaking the bedchamber where M’atraav, Heimlock’s birthmother, resided.

Shimmering copper scales twitched as she awoke from deep slumber. She raised her head in irritation, until she came to recognize the future implications of what her son had discovered. Grinning to herself, she sank her teeth back into the folds of her lover’s bosom, allowing sweet rest to return.

As sleep again overtook her, the sacred words echoed in her mind as she dreamt of the battles and triumphs quickly approaching.

Finallime vedui mín liwo gar-tan tur ilya Lúggwaith. Na gujat yallume, vedui ammen gar-tan min fuin-mornië

“At last we shall lay bare our dominion over all dragonkind. At long last, we shall have our revenge.”

BK’s responses will be delayed from November 18th-30th. He is roaming around Japan on vacation.

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