The Child Wyrmwood

95 years after “The Assumption” of the Dragon-King Volundoor, Wyrmwood Forest, Eastern Jik in the realm of Vrosk

The midday sunlight glittered off the ancient dragon’s crystal scales. The dragon was far from any semblance of a lair, soaring high above the Wyrmwood. The dark pine trees grew high below him and bright colored birds sang and twittered alongside him. The creatures from below would look up and see a glorious translucent white that seemed to draw light inward and spread it all over the dark trees.

The great dragon, Endarthriin, who lived far from here soared above, hunting. His eyes gleamed as he caught sight of a very healthy looking elk. He began a slow dive, trying not to alert the animal, but a ray of light refracted through his transparent wing, shining on and frightening the animal. His dive became steep, to the point of being almost vertical. The elk began a harsh dash, springing through the forest. As the large dragon entered the forest, he tucked his wings in, passing through a gap between two large trees, then flared them out again, catching the wind before he hit the pinecone littered ground. Although the elk had a head start, Endarthriin was an agile flier. He weaved and bobbed through the trees, quickly gaining on the animal, small in comparison.

Instead of snapping up the back of the elk in his jaws, he waited patiently, flying behind the herbivore until they entered a clearing. He flew up and over the animal, his translucent body hardly casting a shadow. The elk attempted to stop, but the dragon had already landed with a heavy thud. The ancient dragons' large, scaly maw opened to swallow the elk whole.

CRUNCH. Red dripped off the dragon's chin and plipped into the dirt. The scent of copper filled the air. Endarthriin sighed in content, filled.

That’s when he heard it, a soft cry from the forest, like that of an animal’s child. He lifted off, his large wings creating a dust cloud. He flew into the forest, following the sounds of distress, until he came upon the source, but what he found was interesting. It was a small human, presumably a toddler, bundled in blankets. It sat there, pouting and crying for its mother. As the toddler saw the giant dragon, it strangely stopped crying and looked up at him with big eyes full of wonder. The dragon angled his head and the child did the same before being thrown into a fit of giggles and coos.

Endarthriin lifted a single talon towards the child and gently touched its forehead. A brilliant flash of golden light surrounded the behemoth creature and the tiny humanoid as the dragon called upon an innate magic. The dragon's bright white eyes turned a bright gold as visions began to fill his mind. Images from the child’s life, flashing before him.

He saw a young boy, training day in and day out with a sword. He saw the same boy lift a rock from 30 feet away.

Then he saw a man, with a brown beard and a well muscled body. Bodies and warriors dotted the battlefield around him. He had a sword at his hip, which he drew now and shouted out, “We need not fight! These dracons are our brothers and sisters.” His sword made a clanging noise as he threw it to the ground, continuing on saying “Too much blood has been shed. We were once a great nation, until one ruler wanted too much power. Now we are as divided as our gods. Elegy 1:1:2 says, ‘Forged out of chaos and painted with beauty.’ If we stop this chaotic war now, we can paint a new nation out of beauty, kindness and compassion.” The speech continued on, but the magic began to fade and Endarthriin returned to the present tense.

He looked down to the toddler to see it was sucking on his talon. Endarthriin smiled warmly and picked up the child’s blankets with his teeth. His wings flapped and he lifted off the ground, buffeting the nearby trees with gusts of wind. Take comfort in this, young child, Endarthriin thought, speaking telepathically to the boy. You will do great things one day, and I will protect you until then.

— — — — —

100 years after “The Assumption”

Wyrmling! Endarthriin roared mentally. Come here RIGHT NOW! Endarthriin was flying around the central spire of his lair, looking for the cursed child that he had taken under his wing. It was time to feed the vile boy who had decided to hide from the dragon. The ancient dragon had already combed through the exterior spires of the lair, as well as having searched the promenade area. He even checked the interior columns to see if the child had curled up around any of them.

He thought he had checked everywhere, when he finally found the boy sitting on the edge of the bridge made of ice that led out of the lair. The boy's legs dangled over the thousand foot drop to the mountain base. He seemed to be looking at the glorious sunset that fell over the Dragontail mountains, showering the sky with hues of light blue, yellow and pink. The Dragontail mountains, given their name due to their unusual formation, seemed to tear apart the sky, creating rips and slices wherever their peaks touched. The beautiful scene was blanketed by the fall of snow which was not unusual, considering the time of year. Some sort of dracon flew across the sky, but it was too far away to be seen clearly. The Wyrmwood forest stretched out below the large mountain-lair, and with every gust of wind came the sharp and sweet smell of pine needles. The wind made the boy’s hair ripple, and the dragon’s wings rustled slightly. A songbird called its last melody of the day, as it tucked in for the night in the forest below.

“It’s beautiful,” the wyrmling whispered. He didn’t shiver in the cold air, thanks to some magical blessings Endarthriin had gifted the boy. The large dragon’s frustrations melted away as he curled up alongside the boy, almost catlike. The boy leaned up against the large creature's shoulder and they sat there for a long period of time.

Are you ready for dinner yet? he asked, calmly and patiently.

“Just a little longer.”

As Endarthriin walked back to the lair, the only thought he had was painted with beauty.

— — — — —

103 years after “The Assumption”

Again. Endarthriin mentally commanded the boy (of whom he had decided to name Brody Wyrmwood, Brody as his favorite human name, and the last name after where the boy was found). Brody had tripped, again, while practicing his sword routine.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, almost sassily. The ancient dragon raised a large scaled eyebrow and Brody corrected it to a “Sorry,” before repeating the routine.

“Thrust, block, slash, block, block, spin-” he said out loud as his wooden sword clumsily went through the motions, but this time as he spun, his right foot hooked behind his left due to the slippery ice and he fell face first with a thud. He quickly and frustratedly got up to his feet and began yelling at the dragon as he threw the sword down, it clattering on the ice.

“I don’t even know why I’m doing this! It’s not like I’m going to fight anyone someday, living separated from the world!”

Endarthriin breathed out a long sigh before thinking to Brody, it is always good to know how to defend yourself. But Brody, know this. Never initiate a fight, and never continue one that is pointless. Now. Again. Brody sighed before picking up his sword once again.

— — — — —

One of Brody’s favorite pastimes was sitting out on the ice bridge and practicing his magic. He especially enjoyed the meditation part, where he got to sit and enjoy nature's gifts.

One day, during the routine meditation, Brody asked Endarthriin, “Why don’t you teach me any hurtful magic?”

Responding mentally, the dragon replied. Because hurtful magic can’t defend you. I teach you sword fighting so that you may defend yourself. I teach you magic so that you may broaden your mind. Brody nodded in response. Now, lift that stone I have placed there.

So Brody did. Chanting in draconic, he traced symbols in the air, and they appeared as gold lines. The rock slowly began to levitate, twirling in the air.

Very good, Endarthriin responded, nodding slowly.

— — — — —

113 years after “The Assumption”

The ancient wyrm, Endarthriin, flew through the sky, shooting streams of light at the army below, his radiant breath weapon burning the warriors. He was protecting the army he fought for, and he was doing it well.

Leading said army was a man clad in dragonscale armor wielding a long metal sword. Brody. He fought courageously, taking down humanoid and dracon alike.

Before the fight, Brody had approached the adult dragon and asked why Endarthriin was letting him commit acts of violence, to which Endarthriin responded with to defend our home.

Those four words rang through Brody with every blow he dealt. He was doing this for a reason. He had a purpose.

Bodies lay strewn about the open field, and the scent of copper filled the air. As he dueled a particularly skilled half-dragon, Brody heard the sound of massive wingbeats from overhead, too big to be Endarthriin’s. He cut down the half-dragon, and looked up to see a massive red dragon fly at Endarthriin, and the both went down in a jumble of talons and fangs. The two dragons hit the ground hard enough that it made a crater in the earth. A gout of flame blasted the crystal dragon in the face, and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air.

Brody let out a guttural cry of despair and fought the hoard until he kneeled at his mentor's side. The red dragon had flown off, leaving the two of them alone.

As the sounds of battle rang from around them, Endarthriin’s beautiful maw opened as he whispered, “Forged out of chaos…” Brody shed tears for the dragon, who was his only family as far as he was concerned. The dragon continued, saying “I have lived for thousands of years, wyrmling, but in the past few, I have felt more joy and more purpose than I have in a long time. I knew this time would come, and I accept it willingly. This war must not go on Brody, and you can usher forth an era of peace. I have trained you for this day of which I glimpsed when I first met you, and now, my final words will be that I care for you deeply, and that I know you can do this. Do what I could not.” And with those words, Brody’s only family breathed his last breath.

Standing up, Brody ran to a raised ledge in the earth, where all who fought could see him. Using a magical trick he had learned, he made his voice sound large enough that the dragons battling in the sky would hear him.

He wiped away tears and his voice boomed as he yelled “STOP!”

Anyone fighting immediately ceased, and dracons of all varieties looked at him with curiosity. “We need not fight! These dracons are our brothers and sisters. Too much blood has been shed. We were once a great nation until one ruler wanted too much power.”

As he threw down his sword, warriors of all kinds did the same.

— — — — —

Dracon: a creature that is draconi in nature (dracons pl.)