Silver Tears
Rowyn's loss
They were so close. The pass was so close. They only had to make it a little farther and they’d be safe. Rowyn leaned over Kharag’s scaly back, urging him onwards. She could feel the exhaustion in the uneven beat of his wings, and her heart broke for him. He was too young to be flying so far and resting so little. But with the huntsmen at their backs, she couldn’t sacrifice precious time to change mounts to one of the other three dragons.
Losara, Ryku, and Zefena trailed behind, fighting valiantly against the brewing gale. If they could crest the mountains that loomed before them, they could hunker down on the farside of the range and let the storm pass over, hopefully losing their pursuers in the process.
Rowyn glanced back. The girls were farther now, their smaller wingspans unable to keep up with their brothers.
“Come on,” she yelled, the wind carrying her voice. “You’ve got this!”
Zefena, the smallest, looked up at her with glacial-blue eyes, and the dragon’s efforts redoubled as she overtook her sister.
“We’re so close!” Rowyn whispered.
A bolt of red fire cut through the clouds, slamming into Zefena’s body and ripping Losara’s wing to shreds. The huntsmen had found them, and there was no show of mercy.
Losara roared as her sister tumbled into her torn wing, Zefena hideously limp.
Rowyn screamed, helpless as the dragon plunged into the fog wreathing the mountainside.
They plunged over the summit, and the storm broke.
About the Creator
M. A. Mehan
"It simply isn't an adventure worth telling if there aren't any dragons." ~ J. R. R. Tolkien
storyteller // vampire // drink goblin // arizona desert rat
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