Dyrrfold Eternal

There weren't always dragons in the valley. In Dýrrfold, a once peaceful land now ravaged in war between the humanoid creatures of Elves and Dwarves and the terrors of the Draugrverǫld, an ancient cursed land pushing for dominion over the Dýrrfold and the lands within its gaze, Doral and Solphia, a Dwarf and Elf were walking across the once thick green field of Ráðland a place for communion between the royalty of the races, but now a blood soaked battlefield, the smell of death both friend and foe linger within the air, a morbid reminder of what has been lost in recent years.

The two weary from battle were making their way to their Kings, Destren Stormhead the mighty king of the Dwarves, Ralnor Dakath the strategic and cunning leader of the elves and Solara Arora the wise and just Queen of the Fairies. As they near halfway across, a cyclops is seen out the corner of Doral's eye angrily making its way towards the two, “Look out!” Doral screams, dropping his shield down defensively. As the cyclops nears the warriors it picks up a large tree and swings it hard into Dorals Shield.

Solphia braces herself a pace or two behind Doral, ready to strike when the time is right, but it never came for when the tree connected with the shield it is neither hindered nor slowed by it, following through sending the dwarf brute hurtling collecting Solphia on his way, through the trees and into the forest beside them, landing only to fall into a cavern.

The fall itself felt like a lifetime with no end in sight as it seemed to get darker and darker the further down they fell, the air around them however at first cold started to get warmer with even the wind rushing past them going from the impending feeling of frostbite to the warm sensation of a campfire. Before much longer they suddenly land, hard... Yet soft? The two look around in confusion, they should be dead after a fall like that, or are they and they just don't know it yet? Whatever happened, it was like they landed on a pile of wool wrapped in silk, as they felt around the surrounding environment they noticed what they were sitting on while bumpy and rigid, was also smooth, too smooth in fact that when they moved slightly Doral and Solphia slid off it and found the col..... warm hard ground.

Before the two could say anything a light started emitting from behind them, hearing what could only be described as a horrifying and deafening roar. “What in Valhalla is that?” Doral asked Solphia, gripping his shield tighter, the reality of their situation sinking in along with his heart. He gulps in fear.

“I have no clue, but I can tell you one thing, in my entire life I have never heard anything that can sound like that nor seen anything that can make the room light up the way this thing has.” Solphia responds reaching for her sword but finds nothing but an empty sheath, instead she grabs her bow and readys to nock an arrow. “Ready?” She asks hesitantly.

“No but I guess we're doing this anyway right?” Doral responds as he mentally prepares himself and braces to turn around.

Solphia nods and within a split-second launches into the air at the same time Doral spins shield in front ready for another battle, Solph landing behind him nocking an arrow, drawing her bow and aiming. But what they come face to face with is nothing they could have imagined. They had turned around to see something that was beyond the comprehension of their world, a winged giant, titanic in size, its skin infused with a bluish hue, its head the size of a cottage, blue fire luminating from its mouth and looked none too happy to see them both standing there, It was an immense and incredible mythical creature… A Dragon!?

In a deep and deafening roar the mythical creature sends a blaze soaring through the high tops of the cavern, lighting up and showing the sheer size of it and the cavern, then in a deep low and dark voice, “If you think that puny elven bow and old dwarven shield is going to do anything, you would be sorely mistaken. Let us see what your intentions are, make it through my fire and prove yourself worthy of speaking with me” the beast lifts off the ground and flies around the cavern, lighting up everything except a small circle around the two.

Solphia and Doral look at each other then look around for several moments, fear flooding their faces, Doral is the first to speak, “What do you think we should do? I can't see anyway out except through the flames, but the flames would mean Valhalla.”

“Then I guess Valhalla it is, not unless you want to stay here with this thing and potentially get eaten, then it would mean Hel, not Valhalla.” Doral nervously chuckles softly and nods in agreement.

Solphia decides to go first, shakingly she nears her arm towards the fire, the heat is unlike anything she had ever encountered, it at first felt like it could melt even the strongest of metals, but the closer she got the cooler it felt. She musters enough courage and quickly waves her hand through the fire, pulling it out she sees there is not a mark on her. surprised she tries it again, and again not a single mark, she looks to Doral, “Look at this. Nothing happened, I'm perfectly fine.”

Doral, “No way! That's impossible,” bewildered by Solphia’s claims he too waves his hand through the fire, and he too was not burnt.

Now with a newfound confidence they both step into the fire and walk toward the dragon. Within a few metres they end up at this creature's feet looking up at this thing and feeling so small in comparison, Doral is the first to speak, “We made it through your fire, now what happens?”

“Firstly, you shall speak of who you are and how you came to be here?” The dragon brings its giant blue head closer to the pair.

“We are unsure as to how we got here, we were about to fight a Cyclops when it sent us flying through the forest. As for how we got down here, that is a mystery the three of us share.” Solphia responds, looking around the cavern for her sword. “As for who we are, I am Solphia Macilrauko of the Elves and this is Doral Redbelly of the Dwarfs, what may we call you?”

“Tysorie, Guardian of Dragons, is my name in the common tongue. Now then Solphia Macilrauko of the Elves and Doral Redbelly of the Dwarves, which one of you keeps throwing bodies down here, and calling my world, eilífligr myrk?” Tysorie questions the 2 taking a big breath in emitting the light Doral and Solphia saw before from the dragon's mouth.

Realising the danger they are in, they both yell in sync and dropping their armaments, “We've never heard of anything called eilífligr myrk, that must be what the orcs, goblins and cyclops have named it, they must use it when they kill our kin and the fairies. Not us! We didn’t even know this place existed. This land has been used as the main battleground for many years now, many wins and losses for both sides.”

The flame in the dragon's mouth subsides as it leans closer towards the pair, tilting its head, “That is an interesting story you have made up, but why should I believe you? You may have passed my flames of saðr, but you may yet still hold hostility to my realm.”

Doral perks up, “If we had of known of this realm, do you think we would have been stupid enough to fall down here in the first place? I mean eternal dark doesn’t really stick to me as something I would normally want to fall into.”

Tysorie lightheartedly chuckles “You have a point Doral Redbelly. Well unless you have the ability to fly, it seems you may be stuck down here.” The dragon looks to them, “There is a trial you may go through, if you pass you are able to stay here. If you’d like I shall speak with the elders?”

Again in sync they claim, “We don't want to be a part of your domain. Sorry.” Then Solphia continues, “We just want to get back to our own world and stop the fighting for good, we have been at war for decades. Our people have slowly started opening up and sharing our knowledge, but we are fearing it may be too late, our kinds have dwindled greatly. Please we beg you, help us get back to the surface.” Solphia and Doral now kneeling, heads low showing their urgency and sincerefulness.

Tysorie remains silent for a few moments, thinking to herself before responding “It has come to my attention that this war could not only affect the surface world, but also my own if it was ever revealed, but first I would have to speak with the elders and get their acceptance and approval to go on this mission.”

Solphia steps forward, gratefulness filling her eyes, “All we wish is for help to get to the surface, we could never ask for you to meddle in our affairs.”

Doral puts his shield down and bends one knee. “I am in agreeance with Solphia, we do not come here to bring war or take things from you or your homeworld. That's not who we are.”

With a big flap of her wings Tysorie softly roars, “If it is revealed that our world exists, it would not make a difference, and if this war has anything to do with Draugrverǫld, my domain would never be safe if they were to take over the Dýrrfold.”

Tysorie soars off into the distance knocking Doral and Solphia back more than a few paces and onto a rock closely behind them, Solphia landing on Doral. With a groan Doral pushes Solphia off, “Get off me your heavier than you look you know.”

“At least it wasn't your Dwarven ass landing on me, between you and your shield I’d have been flattened like an open field after a jötunn race.” She giggles and helps Doral up.

Some time passes, how long, they could not tell as they talk about their lives before they met, their childhood, their beliefs and their hopes for the future after the war. They hear Tysorie approaching, but as she comes back in the wind from her monstrous wings send them both back into the same rock they had landed on before.

Doral, groaning, looks to Solphia, “If this is going to become a common thing between us with our new friend here, I'm gonna need better armour.”

Tysorie looks to them both “I have spoken with the elders, and they share my worries. They have granted me permission to fly you back to the surface and help you however I may to stop the war before our world is put at risk.” The two realise that what the dragon speaks is truth and nod their heads in agreement. Tysorie puts her wing down on an angle and moves her scales to make a climbing path for the two. “Climb on and hold on, unless you want to see what happens when my wings aren’t there to catch you.”

Doral and Solphia climb on without question and grip their tightest to Tysorie, Solphia leans towards Tysorie’s ear and whispers most gratefully, “Thank you.” Tysorie bows her head in retort, then with all the gracefulness of a god flies into the air and within seconds they are back to the surface, breaking past the opening to the cavern, soaring high into the air the kin of the surface dwellers looking like ants, they were circled around something. It was around the same place the cyclops knocked them into the trees, “There they are that’s our kin, take us there please.” Doral calls out.

The dragon flies them down and lands behind the group, the pair run to their people, both yelling to get their attention. The group turns to see Doral and Solphia running with the dragon behind them and immediately raises arms, “What in the high heavens? DORAL, SOLPHIA GET DOWN!” The elven king screams out.

“It’s alright everyone, it’s friendly, she’s on our side!” Solphia calls out.

Destren, Ralnor and Solara all grip their weapons even tighter, watching, waiting for this possible yet impossible fight with a creature of which they have never seen. Tysorie makes her way closer before speaking up “I have heard you guys would like to bring peace to your lands, I am here to help. My name is Tysorie, guardian of the Dragons. It is an honour to meet everyone.”

Solara is the first to speak, slowly lowering her weapon she flies up to meet Tysorie, “You did bring our kin home safely, so I will give you the benefit of the doubt. But why do you want to stop our wars, I’d imagine you have your own world to protect?”

“After Solphia and Doral fell into my domain, it became clear that we were not as secure as we once thought we were, and after a discussion with the dragon elders we agreed we cannot afford your wars interrupting our way of life, our world has been at peace for many years now, but most of it still unhealed by the wars before us.” Tysorie lowers her head, sadness now fills her voice “The cost of war with the Draugrverǫld tends to leave one with an emptiness that can never be filled again.”

All of them bend the knee and in unison, “We cannot thank you enough for what you are offering.”

Destren stands, “I think I might have a place for you to stay if you would like, it would be a great honour to have you in my kingdom.”

Ralnor Dakath stands beside Destren, “And if your place can’t house Tysorie, I can make room in my kingdom for her.”

Tysorie nods, “Thank you both kindly, It has been many eons since my kind has seen the beauty of the Dýrrfold.”

Together for the first time within their lifetimes the Dwarves, Elves, Fairies and the Dragons allied together against a common enemy, as they stand side by side preparing to head back to the kingdom of the Dwarves.