Ash and Bones

Fire, blood and ash. That is all that remains from the war encampments of the unified forces of men,orc,dwarves and elves all consumed by the flame. The once lush green forest which secluded this army is now turned into cinder and stumps. Any survivors that dwell among the encampments are in hiding, terrified by the consistent sounds of the thunderous waves created by the two dragons circling above among the morning sky. The larger of the two dragons begins to descends into the ruins, its black scales gleam now that the sun is rising. The beast lands in the center of the ruined encampment squashing a tent with its mighty sharp claws. The black dragon scans its surroundings, moving its head from left to right watching for any sign of movement. It then raises its head up towards the sky, it opens its mouth letting out a booming roar followed by flames spitting high. It then lowers its head just touching the ground beneath it. The rider sitting on top of the dragon loosens his harness then throws a rope over the side of the beast.

He takes his time climbing down from the dragon's side, as his black armored boots touch the ground small particles of ashes and dirt fling into the air. The rider walks alongside the dragon until he gets to the beast's head, he removes his metal gauntlets and gently pats the black dragon touching its scales.

“Hush now Fovnir.” he soothingly says to the dragon.

The momentary silence is interrupted by the thunderous sounds of the second dragon flying above. Its light blue wings send down any smoke rising towards the sky. The rider on the ground watches the blue dragon flies over then out of site before he proceeds to walk among the encampments. Ashes fill the air floating aimlessly, if it wasn’t known to be summer at first glance some might suspect the ashes to be snow. Bodies of the unified forces are scattered and burned into place, some are under crates while others are holding their loved ones for the last time. As the rider proceeds with his path the sound of dirt shifting catches his attention. The rider quickens his pace walking towards the sounds only to spot a survivor crawling away. A human struggling to crawl for the tree line, his breastplate has melted and fused onto his skin, his hair is crispy falling out as he moves and his face, burns covering a majority of it.

The dragon rider calmly walks in front of the burnt man blocking his path.

“Help me.” the burnt man gargles out as he struggles to look up to the rider.

The dragon rider kneels down in front of him, he takes off his black helmet shaped to appear as a dragon then carefully placing it on the dirt. His long white fair unveils and falls past his shoulders blending into his pale skin.

“Serve me and I Glorandel will save you from this enteral torment.” he promises to the burnt man.

“Yes, please. I will serve you!” the burnt man says reaching out for Glorandel.

Glorandel places his right hand on the burnt man's head, staring into his eyes as the burnt man's begins to tear up.

“Then you will serve.” Glorandel says with a twisted smile.

A swirling green aurora conjures out of Glorandels arm leeching onto the burned man body, it flows all around him until it dives inside slowly sapping the burnt man's life.

Glorandel retracts the green aurora absorbing it back inside of him, he smiles as it hits his body feeling energized. He reaches his helmet and places it back over his head, standing back Glorandel spots something unusual. Between a burnt tree stump and a bunch of stacked crates is a tent which seems to be not affected by the chaos during the night. Its flaps are open and waving around which is odd because there is no wind in the air.

Glorandel approaches the lone tent, he unsheathes his long sword as he slows his pace. The tent is nothing special, a simple tent any peasant could afford. Carefully lifting open the flap with the edge of his blade and slowly peaking inside Glorandel is surprised to see nothing. No bedding, no personal belongings, nothing. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots the shine of a sword swinging down upon him. Quickly he turns and blocks the attacker. He notices that the attacker is wearing a damaged crown.

“The king of men survived, or are you now the king of the ashes?” Glorandel taunts.

The king takes a couple of steps backwards only to thrust forward his sword. Glorandel deflects the attack with ease, he then counters by slashing at the king’s calf making him bend at the knee.

“Curse you.” The king says as he leans on his sword for support.

Glorandel laughs “I already am.”

The king gathers whatever strength he has left to stand up, he swings once again with his sword. As he swings his crown falls off his head rolling into the dirt, his brownish red hair is soaked with sweat it almost appears black. Glorandel continues to take further steps back avoiding the slashing.

The king's calf gives out and once again he is forced to kneel in the dirt. The king manages to looks up to Glorandel.

“I hope the hells torture you.” he says with a sense of defeat in his voice.

“I don’t plan on going to find out.” Glorandel answers.

The king stares into the dark red eyes of Glorandel.

“Do it.” he says. Glorandel lets out a sense of confusion.

“Do it!” the king roars his final command.

Glorandel raises his arm up high then whistles out loud. For a moment after there is nothing but silence until the loud stomping sounds of earth breaking interrupts it. The black dragon Fovnir approaches out of the smoke behind Glorandel, hovering its head over its rider. The beast stares down the broken king and proceeds to widen its mouth, embers start to emerge from the back of its throat. The king is powerless, he sits and watches as the dragon flame appears, Fovnir lets out a thunderous roar then proceeds to bath the king in flames turning him into nothing but ash.

Glorandel walks over to the ashes of the king, he bends down and scoops some of the dead king's ashes placing them into a small pouch which he ties up. The damaged crown is in the dirt, Glorandel picks it up and studies the once prized possession. As he does so the second dragon returns into sight, it quickly makes a decent landing a couple of meters behind Glorandel. The blue dragon lets out a mighty roar to which Fovnir joins in. The blue dragon's rider quickly descends from her dragon, she plants her boots on the ground then turns to look at Glorandel.

“A new trinket for your collection?” she asks as she approaches Glorandel.

“No, not this one. I have another idea for this Ilvala.” Glorandel answers.

“I’m sure it will be interesting; however, we best be on our way.” She insists, as the two dragon riders proceed to walk towards their dragons, they both hear the cry from what sounds like a small child. Glorandel takes point, slowly walking in the direction of the crying.

He walks past what appears to be the remnants of an camp fire, the crying is sounding closer. Glorandel observes the area around him, he spots log where the source of the crying seems to be coming from. Glorandel signals to Ilvala waving to get her attention then points to the log, she walks over and kneels down to have a peek inside spotting an elvish male toddler whimpering. She removes her helmet and places it besides her, her silver hair is tied up back in a long ponytail.

“We won't hurt you child.” she calmy says.

The toddler doesn’t reply to her, he just continues to sob.

Ilvala reaches into log with her right-hand gesturing to boy that its safe

“We can help you.” she comforts.

The toddler stops sobbing momentary. “Help me find my mum?” he asks.

“I can try.” she says, the toddler crawls towards her taking her hand, as he exits the log Ilvala takes a hold of him wrapping her arm around his shoulder.

“This is Glorandel, my brother we are going to take you back to our home.” Ilvala introduces.

“Is my mum there?” the elvish toddler asks. “We will look for her once you are safe.” Glorandel says.

The toddler wipes away his tear with his hand, as he is looking at Glorandel the child doesn’t notice Ilvala conjuring a spell slowly putting the boy to sleep.

“He will make a good cup bearer.” Ilvala suggests as she catches the child as he falls towards the ground.

“We don’t need him with us, but if you insist to keep the boy then be my guest.” Glorandel says. Ilvala slings the child over her shoulder then turns around to where the two dragons are sitting. “You have your trinkets I have my workers, it's a fair deal. The boy's mother is most likely dead anyway we nearly burnt this whole forest down I'd wager only a handful of survivors made it out.” Ilvala says. Glorandel raises his arm up high then whistles loudly, the two dragons both emerge from the smoke and stand over their riders.

“We can look for the survivors later, right now I need a rest. Let's make this interesting, first one back to the fortress gets to decide were the boy works.” Glorandel smirks.

“If I win that crown is mine then.” Ilvala replies.

“Deal.” Glorandel says as he races to his dragon climbing up the rope. Ilvala not too far behind him climbing her dragon one handed with the elvish boy on her shoulder. The two get to their seats at the same time then with a whip of the reins both dragons ascend into the sky flying south away from the death and decay of the forest.