Idk if anyone will even read this, but I just wanted to share some writing I have done lately. Yeah, that was the Lamest Blog Post Title Ever, but it works for now. >.< It's another untitled original story idea. I haven't got much, just a few bits and peices from different povs which I wrote to stop them rattling around in my already-muddled-enough brain. =P There are six main povs, which are Ragna, Runfastr, Dusty, Starsky, Ocean, and Flayre. That's a lot I know, but I'm really having fun weaving six characters' tales into one big tapestry. Like good ole Brain Jacques. XD So here are the little bits I've got so far. Enjoy! =) I'll add some of my concept art too. ^^
Ragna pov (younger)Clang! The barred gate slid up, and Ragna walked out onto the sand-covered arena floor, taking a deep breath and scowling fiercely. Whatever was about to happen, she wouldn't be taken by surprise. The audience didn't seem too impressed with a small red-haired vixen, but there was polite clapping and some stomping. When this died down a moment later, they all watched the second gate expectantly. Ragna turned her gaze across the arena, as the big bars lid up with a similar clang. She held her breath a bit, then out of the shadows stepped a leafy-green dragon, nearly twice as tall as herself. He tossed his head and roared as the crowd cheered and applauded. The gates shut noisily behind each of them.
“Fight! Fight! Fight!” yelled the crowd as usual.
The dragon was in a very bad mood, having been caged up for a while, so it did not take much to provoke him. He advanced on Ragna, preparing to unleash his fiery breath on her. Ragna raised her axe defensively, but she didn't want to kill this dragon... she didn't even want to fight him. No one could make her fight him. But yet they were. This horrible thing wouldn't end until either this dragon was dead, or she was. And the crowd evidently had decided it would be the latter. She grew hot with anger and the edges of her vision blurred. They didn't think she had a chance against this dragon, just because of her size. Well if anyone was dying today, it wouldn't be her. She would show them all. She would prove she was not the helpless, useless runt she had always been called. She could defend herself. She could win. She was a warrior!
Just in time, Ragna saw the flames shooting her way, and ducked, bounding off the arena wall and somersaulting to the right of the dragon. She stood, brandishing her axe, then the blur took over and her vision became blood red as she charged straight at her opponent, yelling like she had never yelled before.
A few minutes later, Ragna found herself kneeling in the sand, breathing heavily. As the crimson faded from her eyes like evaporating water, she saw her axe and paws, green with dragon blood. Her snout hurt from a terrible gash across the bridge of her nose. She looked up to see the body of the dragon lying still in front of her, its green blood soaking the sand.
The audience had been shocked into silence when they saw what happened, but now they erupted into wild applause. They could really appreciate a good fighter, along with a lot of blood and gore, which was their main interest. Unsure of what came next, Ragna stood up.
“We have a winner!” yelled the announcer. “And an incredible little one too! What did you say your name was, girl?” Ragna decided to ignore the word “little”. Finally someone saw what a good warrior she was. Finally they all appreciated her.
She lifted her dripping axe high above her head, showing her fangs as she shouted back, “I am Ragna!”
The Champion had arrived.
Ocean povGray-green water sparkled serenely around a school of gray fish, who swam aimlessly as if they had nowhere to go and nothing to do. A lone jellyfish drifted by by slowly. All was calm in this part of the ocean. Suddenly a streak of green scales came hurtling through, scattering the scared fish like a packet of glitter bursting open. The jellyfish didn't react, like most jellyfish.
The young sea dragon swiped away a fish which had slapped him in the face. Only a few more feet! He could hear the shouts and underwater wingbeats of his pursuers. Splash! He broke through the surface into the cold air. Treading air for a moment, he looked around. There was no land nearby, only ocean. Panic rose in Ocean's mind. Where would he go? Then he saw a ship a ways away. He darted toward it just as the dragons chasing him surfaced below. He flew as fast as his young, tired wings would take him towards the ship. At this point, he didn't really care whether the ship was friend or foe, it was his only chance.
“Stop! Stop in the name of the Queen!” yelled a commanding voice behind him. Ocean didn't stop to look around or even answer. Did they really think that was going to work? He dove straight toward the longship.
The creatures on the ship, foxes, wolves, and other tough beasts, saw the dragon coming straight for them. They yelled and ran for cover, afraid he was attacking them. Ocean could hear the wingbeats coming closer. They were gaining on him. Any second now, he expected a bolt of electricity to come zapping at him from behind. Why weren't they shooting him? Maybe they didn't have the energy or something. Ocean dove with a splash back beneath the waves, followed by the other dragons. The small green dragon swam under the ship, coming right back up on the other side and landing on the deck, knocking a few shields off the side with his tail.
The creatures yelled and many were still trying to hide, but their captain yelled at them, “What's wrong with ye?! Grab 'im!” Some of the braver ones, the captain included, grabbed nets. Ocean turned as his pursuers flew up behind him.
Their leader growled at the wolf captain, “Leave this young dragon alone! He is not yours!”
“He is now!” The captain grinned nastily. Ocean wasn't prepared for the nets that he suddenly found himself wrapped in. He clawed and flapped, but just got more tangled up. The crew picked up more nets, aiming them at the other sea dragons, who at the sight of this, decided not to take any chances and hurriedly retreated into the sea.
The captain looked disappointed at not capturing them. “Well, at least we got this 'un.” He cackled. Ocean could barely move. He was wrapped in chains now, with a rope tying his snout closed so he couldn't bite. If he could have, all the nearest pirates would have been dead from his venom. For the millionth time in his young life, Ocean wished he could generate electrical shocks like all the other sea dragons. For some reason he had been born without this ability. He struggled a bit more, then lay still, exhausted from the chase.
The captain chuckled, stepping hard on the small dragon's tail. “Ain't no getting' away from me, liddle dragon.” he turned back to his crew. “Let's head back. The jarl will be happy with this 'un.”
Flayre povFootsteps echoed through the dungeon cave. Flayre lifted her head, her ears perking up. It didn't sound like the guard. Maybe it was a new one. A figure appeared at the barred door of her cell. The dungeon was very dimly lit, and all Flayre could see was that this dragon was very small, and wearing a hood that covered its face. She couldn't see whether it was a mountain dragon or one of her kind. She growled.
“Sshh.” whispered the figure. “I'm here to help.” The mystery dragon took a key from a pouch around its neck and unlocked the door, opening it wide. “Follow me.”
Flayre stood, suspicious. “Who are you?”
“No time to explain. Just trust me, please.” the dragon motioned for Flayre to follow. She did, as she didn't have much of a choice, and she definitely didn't want to spend any more time in this stupid dungeon. She decided this must be a fire dragon like herself. Otherwise why would she, (or he, she wasn't sure) help her? The mystery dragon led Flayre not towards the exit of the dungeons, but the opposite direction.
“Where are we going?” demanded Flayre in a low voice. Her strange hooded friend didn't answer, but took her to the end of the hall, where they went into an empty cell at the very end that hadn't been used in a very long time.
“What are you-” Flayre's voice rose indignantly. This mystery dragon was just taking her to another cell, not helping her!
“No wait, look!” the hooded dragon pointed to the floor of the cell hurriedly. There was a dark hole in the rock floor, big enough for a dragon to fit through. “Go through here.” said the dragon. “Please, you have to trust me. I'm risking my life for you.” Her voice was sincere. (Flayre figured it was a girl by now.)
Flayre looked into the hole. It didn't look too promising. “Alright.”
The other dragon started toward the door. “I have to go now, or I'll get in huge trouble. Just follow the tunnel and you'll get out safely. Go, escape and save your people. Good luck, Princess Flayre.” The hooded figure darted down the passage without another word.
Flayre looked at the hole again. Who was that? Why were they helping her? And was this really an escape route, or a trap? Flayre shook her head and jumped into the hole, trying not to give it too much more thought. If this was a trap, at least it was better than sitting around in a dungeon until she got executed. It was pitch dark in the tunnel, so Flayre lit up her horns and wingtips with some flames. The tunnel went down for a long time, finally leveling out a bit after a while. It turned several corners, then Flayre saw a spot of daylight ahead. The young dragon quickened her pace. She squinted in the daylight as she poked her head out cautiously. She hadn't seen daylight in several days. She found she was in the side of a cliff above the sea. She lifted her wings and flapped out after making sure there were no dragons around to see her.
Taking to the air, she saw she was on the side of her home island opposite from the castle. She looked at her former home with a lump in her throat. It didn't look much different, the gloomily dark walls still glowed like lava from the inside, but it felt different. Her family was gone. Everyone she had loved was dead. An enemy sat on her father's throne. It didn't feel like her home anymore. She turned and flew north, fighting back tears. She would come back one day, when she was stronger, and she would kill this murderer and take her rightful place on the throne. But now was not the time. She had to take him by surprise.
Flayre flew on. Her wings were feeling much better, after all that time cooped up in a cell with nowhere to fly. They needed a good stretch. Lost in thought, Flayre didn't notice an approaching ship until a bola flew past her, barely missing her right wing. She looked down, startled. The crew of the longship had bola launchers, all aimed at her. She dodged as another flew past, but found herself in the path of another. This one wrapped its ropes around her left hind ankle, throwing her off balance. Another one hit her left wing. Flames flared up on her leg and wing, burning the ropes, but as soon as she did this, she was hit by a blizzard of bolas. One hit her wing painfully, and she tumbled out out the air with a scream, hitting the water.
Being a fire dragon, Flayre wasn't a very good swimmer, especially with bolas wrapped around her that she couldn't burn off now that she was in the water. The crew threw nets over, snaring her and dragging her aboard. She roared and thrashed around as much as she could, but they threw chains around her wings, legs, and snout. Soon she could barely move. She lay there, breathing heavily and puffing smoke out her nostrils, glaring death glares at her captors.
“Another dragon? An' a fire one? Can you believe our luck today?” the captain was very happy with this. Flayre saw a small green sea dragon laying in the stern of the longship. He was chained up similarly to her. “Better put this 'un in the nets behind the ship.” said the captain. “Don't want her dryin' out an' setting my lovely ship afire.”
His crew obediently put the young red dragon in a net in the water, which bobbed along behind the ship. This would keep her wet so she couldn't set herself on fire. Only her head stuck out of the water, so she could breath. She growled at them for several minutes, but couldn't say anything. Finally she went still, tired out from her struggling. Then she began to wonder who these captors were, and where they were taking her.
Starsky pov“Yes, father?” Starsky stood before King Ferocious, her legs trembling a little. By the tone of the messenger's voice and the look on her father's face, he was not happy with her. And she was pretty sure she knew why. But how had he found out?
The large dragon king reclined on his stoney throne, looking sternly down at his daughter. “Where were you early this morning?”
Starsky gulped. “In- in my room...” she lied, looking at the floor.
“Look at me!” he said sharply, and she obeyed. “Don't lie to me, Starsky!” he hissed. Rising, he drew something out from behind him and held it up. “This is yours, is it not?”
Starsky's heart skipped a beat as he saw what he was holding. A dark blue hood, trimmed with gold. “Y-yes.” she admitted, wilting under his cold gaze.
“One of the prison guards reports he saw a mysterious figure sneaking out of the dungeon.” the king continued. “This dragon did not stop even when ordered to by the guard, and ran away, but the guard managed to grab this hood. He didn't see who it was. Later this morning our most important prisoner was found to be gone. The entire dungeon was searched, but all they found was a dragon-sized tunnel in the far cell. What do you know about this?” His dangerously quiet voice made it obvious he knew exactly who had done it. Starsky did not answer, only dropped her gaze.
“Starsky!” he snarled.
She looked up, her eyes filling with tears. “I'm sorry, father! I just couldn't...” her voice failed her.
“Why would my own daughter betray me like this?” Ferocious growled, his voice rising. “Tell me, why would you betray me?!”
“I- I couldn't let you just kill her!” Starsky cried. “She hadn't done anything wrong! She could have been my friend, if she didn't hate me for being the daughter of the dragon who killed her family!” She poured out more of her thoughts than she meant to. “Yes, I helped her escape! I didn't want to watch another innocent dragon killed cruelly!” The tears were running freely down her scales now.
This confession only made King Ferocious angrier. “How dare you! She is a fire dragon, one of our enemies! And a member of their royal family! She must die!” His face grew even harder. “Guards! Take this little traitor to the dungeons!” he roared. “We'll see if anyone comes to help you escape! No fire dragon would be willing to help you!” He was standing now, his wings spread menacingly.
“No!” Starsky choked, taking a shocked step backward. Her heart pounded. She could hardly believe her father would actually throw her in the dungeon. He was cruel, yes, but his own daughter? The tears started afresh. The guards advanced. She turned as they approached her. Right then she made up her mind to do the craziest thing she'd ever done.
She ran. She was not going to end up in a dungeon, no matter what her father did or said. She would not spend another minute in this palace if she could help it.
“After her!” The king roared. The guards obeyed, pursuing the runaway princess. Starsky ran straight for the nearest window, which she leaped right out of, taking off into the cold air. She flew as she had never flown before. She was not going to let them catch her. Now she was afraid of what might happen to her if she was caught. Her punishment might be even worse! This terrifying thought seemed to give her wings energy she hadn't known she had. Without glancing behind her, the princess knew the guards were on her tail. She flapped harder, crying as she went. How would she escape them? She couldn't fly forever! Having no idea where to go, she took off over the ocean. When her wings failed her, if she could not find a place to hide, at least falling into the sea and drowning would be better, she thought. She might as well die.
Starsky was young and small, but she was fast. The guards didn't seem to be gaining yet, though they might anytime now. Starsky was beginning to run out of breath. She looked around desperately. On the horizon she saw the sail of a ship. If she could make it there, maybe they would be friendly and help her. There was a very small chance of this, as dragons and two-legs didn't get along together, but she was willing to risk it. She headed for it. The small dragon dodged to the left, frightened, as a stream of fire shot past her.
“Again!” she heard one of her pursuers call. “”Maker her turn around!” She realized they weren't trying to hit her, just direct her away from the ship. Well that wasn't going to work. As another blast of fire came very close to her right wing, she dove down instead of to the side. Nearly skimming over the water now, she didn't dare go any lower. She couldn't swim very well and didn't want to end up hit by a wave. The ship was so close now she could see the crew. They looked very surprised to see several mountain dragons hurtling toward them.
“She's going for the ship!” called one of the dragons behind her. “Stop her!” But there wasn't much they could do to stop her now.
The crew of the ship, thinking Starsky was attacking them, drew their weapons, shaking them at her and yelling. They didn't look so friendly now. Starsky swooped up above the ship, landing on the yardarm. The ship tipped to one side a bit, the crew all flying against the starboard bulwark. A few were shoved overboard.
“I'm not attacking you!” Starsky yelled down to them. “I need your help!”
The creatures below looked suspiciously up at her, but the captain called, “Cummon down 'ere, and maybe we can help ye!”
“Princess, what are you doing?” the dragons stopped a ways away from the ship, hovering above the sea. Starsky hopped down to the deck of the ship, balancing it out again.
“I need to get away from them.” she told the captain, indicating the dragons chasing her. “Please help me, sir!” She was panting for breath.
The captain grinned. “No problem, lassie. We sure can help ye!” he called to the crew, “Fire!” Bolas were shot at the dragon guards, who dodged them.
“Let's go now!” one of them called to the rest. “We can't do anything more here!” They retreated, bolas flying after them.
When they were finally only small figures way off in the gray sky, Starsky turned back to the captain. “Oh thank you, sir! How could I ever thank you enough?” She still gasped for air. Her legs were about to collapse under her. Her wings ached.
The captain's smile widened. “Well, maybe by not fightin' back too much. I'd hate ta hurt ya.”
“What?” Starsky was confused, until a second later a net dropped over her. Before she could do anything about it, she found herself wrapped and tangled in nets. She struggled. “Why are you doing this?” she cried.
“Sorry, lass, it's me job.” the captain shrugged. Starsky couldn't say anything more, as they wrapped her in several chains, with one around her snout. They shoved her to the stern of the longship.
“Aye, she'll do nicely.” the captain strode off, looking very pleased with himself.
Starsky laid her head on the deck, the tears starting afresh. Where were they taking her? What would happen to her? She was shivering now. The small dragon closed her eyes, and before she knew it, she drifted off, lulled to sleep by the rocking of the ship on the waves.
Only a small shaft of sunlight shone through a crack in the curtains across the window, dimly illuminating the otherwise dark room. The only other light was from a couple of candles, by which the seer sat, her hooded face emotionless, eyes closed.
Bjornulf stood silently by the window, leaning against the wall. The wolf king watched the seer with piercing yellow-green eyes, his paw resting on the hilt of his wicked-looking sword. He sighed in impatience, but still the snowy white hare did not move.
Unable to bear the wait any longer, Bjornulf straightened, saying with a slight growl in his voice, “Well, Gunnvor? Do you see nothing yet? Why does this take you so long? Out with it!” He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer.
A few minutes later, he finally got a response. Gunnvor opened her eyes and lifted her head. Her dark eyes seemed to bore into Bjornulf's, who glared back with difficulty. Seers could be truly unnerving, but so was he, the King of the Northlands.
At last she spoke. “Bjornulf, I do not think you want to hear what I have seen for you.”
The silver wolf gripped the hilt of his sword as if to draw it any second. “That's King Bjornulf. I am King now, and you will address me as the King. And I do want to hear your prophecy dream! Why else would I ask you for one? I could have just killed you along with the rest!”
Wisely, the Seer did not pursue the issue of his being the king any longer. She sighed, making the flames on the candles dance. “My prophecy is one for you, but I do not think you will be happy to hear it.”
“You do not know what I want!” Gunnvor saw Bjornulf was really beginning to lose his temper now. “You will tell me the dream! Then maybe I will not have you thrown off a cliff!”
The Seer gave a slight shrug. “Alright. But do not blame me for what I say. I do not make the future, I only give glimpses of what may happen.”
“Just! Tell! Me!” the king growled through clenched teeth.
“Patience!” said Gunnvor. “Patience is not the ability to wait, but the ability to keep a good attitude while waiting.” Bjornulf was obviously not going to wait any longer, so she immediately began to tell the dream she had seen.
“I saw you. You stood in this very room, at that same window. You looked worried. Then a small one with golden fur ran in the door. He looked just like Thialfi, and may have been him. He was followed by two others, who I could not see clearly, but they appeared to be small as well. I could not see the faces of any of these three much at all, but I saw the Thrallskar on each of their heads. Then the scene changed and I saw Thialfi, wearing his crown, but he looked very young. That is all.”
As she finished, the candles flickered, almost going out. She dropped her eyes to the floor, as if the words had drained her of her energy.
Bjornulf fought back the worry in his voice. “What- what does that mean? And how dare you mention Thialfi?!”
“I do not know.” answered Gunnvor. “I told you only what I saw. I cannot tell what a prophecy means, I can only deliver it. You must find out for yourself what it means.” Bjornulf didn't like the sound of the dream one bit. Thialfi?! But he was dead! He had killed the lemming himself! His eyes landed on an object in the corner of the room. It couldn't be. “Is that all?” he burst out, crossing the room and grabbing the seer by the front of her robes. “That can't be it! There has to be something more! Or maybe you are lying to me! Tell the truth!”
Unmoved, Gunnvor looked the wolf steadily in the eyes. “That is all I saw. And it is nothing but the truth. Why would I lie?” That was the wrong thing to ask.
“Because you are still loyal to Thialfi!” snarled Bjornulf. “You are trying to get revenge on me with your words! Well, it won't work!”
“I said nothing but the truth.” insisted the seer calmly.
But Bjornulf was still talking. “I am done with prophecies! I am done with seers! I am done with you!” he dropped Gunnvor to the floor, drawing his sword.
Still the old hare remained calm. “Whatever you do, Bjornulf, do not forget what I have told you. Do not ignore this prophecy, or you will greatly regret it.”
Before she could say anything more, the outraged wolf ran her through. The seer's body collapsed and the candles mysteriously went out, but Bjornulf didn't care. Wiping his weapon on her robe, he sheathed it, kicking over the candles in his anger. He threw the curtains open and called out the door for someone to get rid of the body.
When this had been done, Bjornulf slammed the door, muttering to himself. He was sick of seers. He wouldn't let any stupid prophecy tell him what he would do. Deep in his heart, the wolf king knew the seer hadn't lied. The prophecy was a real one. But he wouldn't let it come true. He walked over to the cradle in the corner. The tiny figure was sound asleep, wrapped in blankets. Bjornulf wondered why he hadn't killed this one. It was the most dangerous one of all. His eyes hardened as he drew a dagger from the back of his belt. He raised it, and hesitated for a long time. Why could he not bring himself to do this? As long as this one was alive, his reign and his life would be in danger. But he couldn't just kill him like this.
Bjornulf was glad he was alone in the room. No one would know of his soft-heartedness. He slid the dagger back into its sheath, a new plan forming in his mind. If he couldn't kill him, maybe there was another way he would prevent this prophecy from coming true. Not that he believed in the prophecy, he told himself. That was just a bunch of dragon dung. But, just to be safe, he had a plan for this enemy of his. He looked into the cradle, his eyes glinting cruelly as a triumphant, fangy smile spread across his face.
“No one will know.” he said in a low voice. “Not even you.”