The Wyrm Wars

By S. Charles

‘There weren’t always dragons in the valley,’ Evyander thought to himself, his chainmail boots quickly clinging against the cobblestone steps. A distant, thunderous sound came crashing from far off. Likely from behind the snowcapped Beric Mountains that were barely visible due to the grey clouds that stretched out along the northern skyline. When the men of this Keep: Tovar’s Keep, heard the noise, they clattered up the ramparts and into their stations. Crossbows, arrows, catapults, and the likes, all armed by chainmail bound soldiers. Another low pitch bellow threatened once more. That noise was now closing in on their position.

Evyander dashed inside one of the barrack towers, slamming the large door shut behind him. Placing the wooden block onto the metal clasps, he sealed it closed. Smashing his back against the door, Evyander slid down it till he was sprawled out against it and his rear on the cold stone floor. His pale red face puffing for air, helm tossed aside, and sweat gleaming from his brow.

‘Please let these walls hold,’ he pleaded to whatever or whoever would listen to his unspoken words being repeated in his mind, like a final prayer.

A boy of fourteen, Evyander, or, ‘Evy’, as his late father had once called him, had heard the tales of the growing threat of the Dragons and their ever expanding roosts across any mountain top that could hold the flame bellowing beasts.

He shook off the memories of his fathers words, forcing himself back into this dreaded moment. His baby blue eyes scanned the inside of the tower. He saw that the civilians of the Keep shoved themselves behind barrels of food, and golden stacks of freshly delivered hay. Even other soldiers sat at their chairs, or on the stairs that spiraled up to the top. They had the look of dismay, heads practically between their legs, looks glued to the ground. Amongst the gloom, a familiar face arose and approached Evyander. A tanned, muscular arm extended down to him. Evy grabbed the hand, which pulled him up with relative ease. The rather imposing figure of a man handed him his helm, then motioned for him to follow.

Evy looked up at him, surprise still painted on his face. “Jerik, what are you doing here!?” Evy asked, it was unlike him to not be on the ramparts or where the fighting was thickest. Jerik after all had been considered the strongest foot soldier of all Tovar’s Keep, a man that Evy aspired to learn from.

Jerik looked down at him, clearing his throat. “They posted me here, don’t like it too much, but orders are orders kid. Now, we need to get to the top of the Tower and ready the catapults. If that bloody wyrm decides to come our way, we will have to be ready,” his calm, heavy-toned voice reminded Evy of his father.

Evy darted up the stairs, trying to keep up with Jerik, who was already halfway to the top. Evyander could hear the sounds of loud, deep toned rumbles, each time they sounded a little closer.

“Will the walls hold?” Evyander called up to Jerik, who returned his question with a rather fierce, agitated look.

When Evyander caught up to Jerik, near the top of the tower, just beneath the trap door at the wood and brick ceiling of this guard barrack, Jerik grabbed Evy, then pointed down to the sobbing civilians, who sat idly by, nearly fifty feet down below. “Never doubt the walls. For the sake of all the old gods an the new, never show doubt to the people. Our walls could be made of wax and wicks, with exploding barrels of oil at the middle of this bloody keep, we never waver. We show them we are in control, at all times.”

Jerik moved Evy aside and climbed up the wooden staircase, shoving open the trap door. Evyander quickly made his way up, regretting almost immediately that he had followed. Up in the sky he could see what had been causing all the commotion. At the top of the white crested mountains flew about a large black figure with immense wings that stretched over forty feet. The guards and soldiers were preparing the catapult, turning the crank and angling it towards the beast. A man in a leather bound outfit with a spy glass plastered to his right eye and a peculiar type of bronze sextant in the other hand followed every movement of the winged creature. “Keep turning. Load the boulders!” he shouted in a shrill voice.

The men just simply grunting at his orders, carrying large boulders, four people to one rock. Jerik approached the man, saluting him. Evyander walked up behind his bulky, tall friend, “Here to assist, sir,” Jerik said dutifully.

The man put down his spyglass, looking Jerik up and down, then pointing his shriveled, old hand towards the boulders. “You’re a loader. Go!” he commanded, turning his sights to Evyander. He gave him the same once over as Jerik, except with far more scrutiny, bordering on disappointment. “How old are you, kid?” his green eyes filled with doubt.

“I’m fourteen, sir,” Evy replied dutifully, his words coming out from his dry lips rather shakily.

“Barely old enough to hold the darn bow on your back. Go fetch arrows from the base of the tower and bring them up here, now!” The man demanded.

Evy saluted then charged back towards the trapdoor. Hurrying down the ladder, he descended the spiraling wooden staircase before the entire guard barracks began to shake violently. A large whooshing, then cracking sound overwhelmed his ears, followed by a high pitched, echoing roar blared through the windows, it was the haunting war cry of the flying fire bearers.

Evyander fell over as the guard post shook, loose rock and wood crumbling from weak crevasses all around him. Babes and women sobbing louder and children shaking behind their scared parents. Even soldiers stationed inside looked about with wide eyes, struck with fear. Evyander remained to the task at hand, running down the steps till he reached the base. He shuffled around, searching for the bale of arrows. He found a cluster of arrows, tied up in a leather bundle. He grabbed as many as he could hold in his arms and then made his way back up the stairs. Another shrieking sound came, followed by a pair of loud, crashing wings. Evy looked through the window, and now clearer than ever he could see the beast for what it was.

Humungous would not even begin to explain it. A torso that must have weighed tons, a black, shimmering scaled body, each one glinted whenever the sun snuck through the grey clouds and its rays glimmered off of the beast. Cruel black and yellow eyes and a permanent snarl showcasing dagger like teeth. Those forty foot wings helped the dragon slowly descend till it hovered effortlessly beside a wooden archers post just outside the Keep. It inhaled deeply, a clear fluid forming from the holes in its parted, serpent like tongue. Its chest expanded wide, showing a scaled yellow stomach that the archers desperately fired at, but to no avail. The flames spewed out from a closed mouth till finally the fire came shooting from its now wide open jaws, blasting the outpost into a singed, standing pile of blackened sticks. Then, after its chaotic destruction, it dropped down slowly onto the ground. When its large, clawed feet touched down, the earth itself rumbled, as if groaning under the weight of the thing. Its wings tucked back inside its body, like a black armored knight sheathing their weapon. It turned towards the front gate of the keep, arrows flying down at it, merely bouncing off its body.

Evyander collected himself, forcing his eyes from the window. He clamored up the stairs, scurrying past soldiers who were heading in the opposite direction. The sound of the catapults whipping stones gave Evyander a brief sense of hope. Looking out the next window, he watched the boulders hail down towards the dragon. Most of the barrage would fall short, but some came crashing against it, causing it to stumble back, yet it did not bleed. It took another deep breath, then began spitting balls of fire at each rooftop of the keep, a volley came barreling towards the guard posts. The sounds of men screaming in agony caused Evyander to nearly vomit. He found his composure and made his way to the trapdoor, but before he could ascend the ladder, the door flew open and Jerik came crashing down, along with the man with the scope.

Jerik’s arm was bloody and slightly burned, all the while the other man remained unharmed. Jerik had likely been a human shield for this person, whoever he was. “Get down to the base, go!” Jerik forced himself down the stairs, clinging onto the guard rail while Evy and the man with the sextant followed right behind.

“Rid yourself of those arrows for the sake of all gods!” Jerik shouted between his frantic stumbles down the steps. Evyander quickly chucked them aside, rushing over to Jerik and trying to assist him down the steps faster, to which Jerik shook his head, “Look after the scholarly looking guy. My gut tells me he is our priority,” Pointing behind him to the man.

The older man brushed off hi leathers, frustration boiling on his weathered, hardened face. “I can look after myself just fine. I don’t need a half baked man and a boy to look after me,” He grumbled, now taking the lead ahead of Jerik, all while muttering under his breath about the two as he gained speed.

The entire building shook once more, this time to the sound of an even higher pitch cry. The gusts of wind being slashed by another pair of vast wings, moving more rapidly than the first Evy had heard. “Another!?” The man fell over onto the last step, his eyes searching around in desperation. He scurried over to the window at the base of the barrack.

Both Jerik and Evy followed behind, taking one slow, dreadful step after another. It was there they could see another dragon, taking up the eastern side of the Fortress, while the previous dragon was still rumbling, now to the west, clawing its way at the stone walls. This one had a thirty foot wing span, and a much longer, skinnier, murky grey body. Its claws were long, retractable like talons, shimmering like fresh forged steel. The beasts claws even had a reflection, unfortunate for those caught in it. Men quivered at the top of the other wooden tower as the grey scaled, long clawed beast sliced through the several inches of thick logs with ease, like a scalding, long dagger through warmed butter. The screams of the men at the tower were muffled fast by the sound of more hacking, slashing, biting and swallowing, and then the pleas stopped, permanently. Those screams would stay with Evy. He closed his eyes to try and block out the sound, but something far more horrifying would pry his watery eyes open.

Two more heart sinking, gooseflesh forming, deep bellowing roars came from the distance. Like the threats of a storm from the clashing of clouds, two gigantic sized dark silhouettes emerged from the skies, slashing through the clouds till they burst into nothingness. They came swooping down, each one flying through all of the archer towers along the roads outside the Keep. The calls for help by the soldiers outside the walls would be silenced by the dragon fire in mere seconds.

“We have to leave this place,” The man cried out between the dragons roars. He reached for his sextant but paused when all four dragons began their deafening screams. The foundation of the barrack shook from the tremendous force. Evy’s ears began to bleed from the abhorrent sound.

Jerik unbarred the door, looking towards the villagers who were still hiding. ‘Barr these doors when we leave. Only open them when it is-”

A smash came from the top of the Barrack tower, interrupting Jerik. That long, grey scaled dragon arm ripped through the ceiling and began stabbing blindly into the tower, ripping apart the staircase and any that stood in its path. That’s when its mouth forced its way into the now opened top of the tower. The brick began crumbling to the sheer weight and power of the grey monster. Evy saw that clear, liquid begin to form and bubble from the hole in its parted, snake like tongue, then the flames began to drip down like saliva on a starved wild bear.

“Everyone get out now!” Jerik called, shoving out the man and Evy, but his call fell on ears that listened too little too late, as the flames came flooding down, fire like magma coursing from its mouth and sliding onto those at the back of the tower. The scalding heat taking their lives before the fiery, thick substance ever touched them.

The tower that had stood tall for generations began to sink into a hole that had been created from the unfathomably hot ‘fire’ made by the grey dragon, which slowly eroded into the earth, the stones crashing into the pools of flame, burning until there was only dirt and ash. Outside, the guards that remained had huddled around their Commander, Lord Tovar, the Keeper of the Keep. He was as battle hardened and fierce as ever.

“Get yourselves in order. I want every bloody arrow and bolt poisoned and rigged to explode. Aim for the eyes. Hell, aim for anything. Just hit the oversized gnats out of the sky. Don’t let them on these walls!” He called out, running to the top of the rampart where the black dragon was slowly trotting towards the west most wall, that toothy snarl ready to greet anyone in its way with a grim end.

Lord Tovar withdrew his silver sword and his massive shield. It shimmered when the suns light touched it, much like the glinting of the dragons scales. The center of Lord Tovar’s bulwark looked exactly like glass, casting a clear reflection of any who were on the attacking side of it. Truly a magnificent piece of equipment to the young eyes of Evy.

Atop the rampart, Tovar smashed the broadside of his sword against the shield, calling the black dragon over to him with profanities and insults that not even Evy had heard from even the most drunken of soldiers.

“Bring it you bloody beast. I’ll cut this gnat open myself. On my command, you whimpering lot better plunge your arrows and bolts into this overgrown, flying bloody salamander!” He called back to his men, who nodded proudly, saluting their Lord Commander.

The black dragon stomped its massive being over to the walls, standing on its back legs, it stood up straight, before lurching forward, its front claws clashing against the wall. Tovar swung his blade at its eye, missing narrowly, but cracking some of the scales just beneath its black and tarnished yellow left eye. It began to inhale, the same routine as before, a liquid bubbling inside its mouth, the center of its stomach, expanding and now, a faint glow came from its throat.

“Look out!” Evy cried out frantically.

“Just watch, kid,” Jerik said, his eyes plastered to the fight, all while the burns on his arm began to drip with blood.

The flames came crashing down against the Lord Commander of the hold, but he met the flames with unbreakable focus, raising his shield and tucking himself behind it. The shield began to glow orange at the center, yet the Commander did not even drip a single bead of sweat. Instead, he began pushing the shield closer into the fire till his feet were at the edge of the rampart.

“How? How did his shield not melt, or him?” Evy gasped in astonishment, mouth ajar.

“That, boy, that is a weapon of legend. Passed down through generations of his family,” The man with the sextant explained. Jerik turned to face the two, looking explicitly at the older man.

“Just who are you?” he asked slowly, his voice almost a whisper. The man muttered something in Jeriks’ ear, but the sound of rumbling and another crash against the southern wall stopped Evy from successfully eavesdropping.

The Lord Commander called out for his men to reign a volley down on the black dragon, but before he could, a searing burst of flame from the southern wall engulfed the center of the Keep, catching everyone in its way in a flash flame death. Jerik, Evy and the old man ran towards a turned over horse wagon. Each of them crawled underneath, watching as now the black dragon on the northern wall, the grey dragon on the southern wall, and now a red dragon, of equal proportions to the black dragon to the west, all stood taller than ever, their long necks extending well past the walls and looking down at those who survived, throats glowing, liquid already formed in their semi shut, long, sharp toothed mouths.

The end of the Keep was inevitable, yet still, Tovar faced the black dragon with unrelenting will and courage. He waited till the beast lowered itself at him, then he stabbed his blade into its eye, causing it to fall back, spewing flames blindly.

Just when Tovar gained the advantage, another dragon slowly descended down to the eastern wall. It was larger than all of them, a wing span far surpassing sixty feet. A golden scaled body that was enormous, more massive tons than any of the other three put together. It squatted rather than stood, for it had no need to extend its body to look over at the wall. It looked curiously at Tovar, tilting its head, then speaking in a tongue that Evy had never heard before, yet its voice had a low resonating, almost human tone to it. A hauntingly deep growl with each syllable that slipped from its parted, red tongue. Even the Commander took exception to the new dragons unfamiliar words, turning for a brief moment before the black dragon swept him up and into its claws. It lifted Tovar far up into the air, gripping tight, his cries turned to a pathetic, yet pain staking squeak from a throat that was now almost entirely deprived of air. He wriggled, fighting with what little life he had left. His shield dropped to the ground, along with his blade. He was now entirely at the mercy of a beast that was unfamiliar with the notion.

It opened its mouth wide, lifting the Commander slowly towards its long jaw of sharp, jagged teeth. Evy, Jerik and the man all looked away, before listening to the mouth snap shut, and then, as they looked up, they saw a slumped Tovar get thrown aside, into a nearby lake outside the wall. Then, each of the Dragons began to inhale, in perfect, harrowing harmony.

First, the golden dragon began to spew out a purple, horrid smelling liquid into the Keep from over the walls, those caught in it began to cough, collapse, skin burning, then, the others began to unleash their dragon flame, which caused the purple bile that littered the keep to explode, causing a toxic purple air to form. The man ripped a piece of his shirt off, then covered his face, quickly he began shoving the two, pointing at the rip in his shirt, trying to inform them to do the same as he, to which they both did quickly. Holding their ripped pieces of clothing to their faces, they held their breath, watching the horror take place in front of them.

Noxious clouds lingered all around the fallen Keep. The three struggled to breathe as the purple clouds of poison threatened them with every gasp of air their parched throats grasped for. The heat was now unbearable, as skin began to turn red and blister wherever it was exposed. Coughs were muffled behind their face coverings. A loud conch blew in the distance, causing the four dragons that dismayed a Fortress that stood tall and unharmed no more than an hour ago, to take flight. This was their chance to escape. They struggled to squeeze out from beneath the cart, till they were back on solid ground. All around them was scorched earth. Towers toppled over and walls that bore the marks of the dragons claws, gashed along the stone, leaving behind chilling scars.

“If we find an opening I saw earlier in the southern wall, there is a forest beyond it. We need it for cover. We are fish in a barrel right now,” Jerik suggested, his voice muffled by the piece of torn clothing. The older man pointed to a breach in the south east corner, scurrying over without hesitation.

Forcing themselves through the break in the walls, they managed to push out of the Keep and into dangerous open land. The forest was right in front of them, perhaps a half mile off, but their eyes were glued to the skies, watching for the four flying beasts.

‘Eyes to the sky.’ Evy thought to himself as he sprinted as hard as he could towards the distant tree line.

The sound of a war horn stopped the three dead in there tracks, each of them ducked down behind the tall grass around them. There, at the hilltop far north stood over a thousand men, clad in black armor with green and purple flags. Another bellow from the horn that sounded like a dragons low groan echoed around the area. Then they made their descent down on horseback to the fallen Tovar Keep.

Crawling through the tall grass, they inched their way toward the tree line. The urge to just stand up and make for the woods was a temptation that Evy fought inside his bones, his legs shaking at the thought. Jerik grunted with every squirm, his arm grazing against stone and rock, the image of his friends wounds getting worse and worse made Evy cringe with discomfort. “Jerik, we need to make a break for it,” The boy whispered like a whimper to his comrade.

Jerik simply shook his head in disagreement pointing behind them. When Evy looked, he could see a dozen of the black iron clad men on horseback, trotting out from the Keep, heading their way towards the three slowly, likely ignorant of their position. Evy’s heart raced as he wriggled even faster between the tall green blades, ignoring the stings of prickled weeds and rocks. Yet with every desperate movement, a single horse and its rider moved closer and closer until the clopping horseshoes of the grey warhorse were only a dozen paces away.

The three laid there perfectly still, barely camouflaged by the long stalks of green and brown grass that whipped about by the violent gusts being swept in from the overhead storm clouds. The smell of rain became nearly as pungent as the smells of black smoke and the now distant, intoxicating gas that had burst from the mouth of the golden dragon. Even the black iron clad rider took notice of the darkening skies, his horned, iron helm staring skyward till his head dropped down.

Evyanders’ eyes meeting the darkened slits of the riders helmet. Evy froze with panic, his eyes refusing to avert from the foes eyeless gaze. ‘He spotted me. We are going to die like the rest!’ his mind stirred with paranoid hysteria.

His body was paralyzed from fear, stapled in the dirt, his brain reeling with images of this unknown assailant dismounting and plunging their jagged tipped halberd into Evy and his companions, ultimately finishing the job the dragons had started.

The rider slowly backed the palm of their right hand across their mid-drift, towards something on their leather belt. ‘A knife, a spare sword?’ Evys imagination picturing only the worst of situations.

Carefully this unknown rider pulled out a battle horn, then slowly trotted backwards, their eyes never averting from the direction of Evy and his friends. The bursting crack of thunder came crashing down, followed by the few taps of rainfall that clinked off the armored man, who stood there un-phased. The deluge became heavier and faster, as did the riders backwards trot from the three. Evy managed to avert his eyes, his crushing fear relaxing its grip on him with the armored man at a larger distance.

Desperately, his eyes now searching for Jerik, looking for some level of reassurance, but Jeriks eyes were wide, and his glare slowly rolled over to Evy, mouthing the words; ‘Run.’

Evy, Jerik, and the old man sprung up as the rider raised the horn to his lips and blew into the ivy conch. Evy refused to look behind him. “The horses breath could be on my back, I will not turn. I will not turn!” he said to himself, panting as he made for the trees that were closing in, but not fast enough.

Sounds of whistling became nearer till a dark cloud funneled towards them. It was a volley of steel arrows hissing down, cracking into tree bark and thudding into the dirt around them. One flung into Jeriks shoulder, nearly knocking him down.

Evy yanked Jerik aside from more inbound arrows. Grabbing him by the arm and sprinting through the thicket of fallen branches, thistle brush, and tall oak trees that nearly skimmed the clouds. A beautiful scenery slaughtered by the oncoming downpour of flying steel, and the sounds of horses behind the men, screeching as they trampled towards the forests edge. Jerik flung himself behind a small, moss covered breach between the land with a steady moving stream in the middle. Ducking into the muck, huddled and shivering behind the rocks, their feet now submerged into the cold water. All they could do is wait. Seconds of waiting felt like purgatory till an all too familiar sound came reverberating through the brush. That low, deathly tone from the same horn that had retracted the four dragons from the ruins of Tovar’s keep came back to the tune of its hallowed, destructive note.

Evy’s stomach churned, his fading sense of adrenaline and survival had now been snuffed out when he heard an all too familiar cry. Loud crashes came clobbering through the woods, trees toppling over, snapping and popping. Then the snarl. That low, rumbling growl that came from above. A black, serpent like face with a long, heavy breathing snout, and jagged rows of teeth dropped down right in front of Evy and the others. Had he had been just a few inches forward, he’d be inside the beasts ajar, foul smelling mouth. He kept his mouth closed, looking up at the fresh, deep wound that had once been its eye, now looking right down at him, scales rattling with the hard winds. Accepting his likely fate, Evy closed his eyes, not breathing or moving, just simply waiting. His thoughts took hold of him once more.

‘There weren’t always dragons in the valley, but now there are, and we will soon bend to them.’