Dante's Awakening Chapter 1
#1 of Dante's Awakening
This was a Commission done by RuthOfPern, based off of a story I wrote months ago, which failed miserably. He has done a fantastic dob rewriting it and there is the possibility of him continuing as well. But that's a matter for another time. Here's Chapter 1.
The cool morning dawned bright, just a few lazy clouds hanging around like tufts of used cotton in the colour washed blue of the clearing atmosphere. Dante soared elegantly, wings caressing the gentle thermals that arose from the foothills below as the golden orb of life crept between the two snow dusted peaks to the right of him. The lances of light glanced of his obsidian scales which absorbed the heat, while reflecting away the rays in a shimmering mass of rainbows where condensation had formed from the effects of the altitude upon his body. A whim came upon him then; and with stronger beats of his muscular wings he tore through the air to face the bringer of life head on, as he was embraced by its comfort, and the promise of the day ahead.
'Yes,' he mused, 'He was a dragon in every sense of the word. Lover of fire, forged from the heat of his parent's loins, reveller in the freedom of the skies. And lonely...The only member of his proud race for several leagues...Life was cruel to him...' he thought as his mood swung quicker than the muscles in his shoulders. He had the whole mountain range that stretched before him to himself, and yet no-one to share it with.
A twinge of hunger clawed at his belly, the feeling temporarily overriding his sudden funk as the memories of the failed hunt on the previous day stabbed at his body in a rude reminder of his mortality. His emerald eyes filtered the strong light as he started a sweep of the mist strewn landscape below, in search of his next potential meal. It didn't take long, his ocular ability far outstripping that of lesser aerial predators like the hawks...in fact they were rather tasty when caught unaware. He chuckled to himself, bony as hell though!
A young farmer, looked to be a goat, was perched precariously upon a well fed, if exhausted stallion...The horse's flanks were heaving with effort as it rested in an attempt to regain its wind, sweat streaks marring the smooth chestnut hair as billows of hot breath plumed from its nose with each strained breath. They might as well have lit a campfire, for no smoke could have given them away clearer to one overhead.
A slight adjustment of his wings, and Dante began the stoop that would end a bare quarter league from where he started with the death of one or both parties in the grip of his talons... meat was meat after all. He had no idea there was a second source of breathe lying in wait for its target, or for that matter that the target was not the same one...
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Rena silently lay in wait for her prey. She had muzzled her nose with a cotton handkerchief so that no betraying breaths would condense into the frost laden air from where she crouched, concealed inside a lightening hollowed tree. It had not been easy tracking down this particular prey... after all, it usually preyed on the peoples like her...but she was resourceful. A copper here, a penny-bit there, and a flagon of ale in the right taverns, loosened the right jaws. All of which had led her to the village in the valley around three leagues away. She had no idea of course if the black dragon that had been seen circling the peaks was the one she was after, but after laying eyes upon it, she was as sure as she could be.
You would think the villagers would want someone to hunt the beast, therefore ridding them of a pest that depleted their herds, game reserves...and population on occasions...but no. They knew that if she failed, well attention would be drawn to them, which was not something they wanted. She couldn't really give a fuck to be honest about the village...if she succeeded today, well they would be living in peace until the next threat came along... and would be happy knowing that her master's killing had been avenged. If she failed...well she would be joining her master wherever he was, and the villagers would just have to live or die by the consequences...they meant nothing to her.
The bait for example...She knew that dragons were intelligent, spoke the language of the peoples, but did not live with them due to well...the impracticalities of being at least twice the size of anyone else. As a general rule, they did not attack the people, but hunger, evil or madness drove them to it on occasions...they did help themselves to flocks and herds though...occasionally leaving payment, but more often than not, not. The stallion 'Charles' was her own, the boy sitting astride him, a quarter-wit she didn't even know the name of who had received a good kick to the head by a mare in heat a few years back. A burden to the family, he had recovered just enough to stand, but nothing else...Two silvers had all it had taken for his parents to 'Forget' where he was so she could collect him from the barn and tie him to the saddle. She had then ridden hard, covering three or four times the distance required to ensure that Charles was winded enough to provide a plume big enough for a blind granny to see.
Patiently, she crouched still in her uncomfortable perch until she spotted the bastard she was hunting three hundred yards away in the glare of the dawn. Slowly she brought up her yew longbow, reaching back to her full quiver for an arrow. Taking her time, she nocked the fine ash shaft to her string, not wanting to rush herself as she aligned the barbed steel tip with her target carefully. She drew upon her body's internal reserve of energy, before pouring most of it into the scale ripping steel. Pulling back on the bowstring, she sighted, and with her breath held for steadiness, released her grip on it and watched as it began to close the distance. 250 yards...200 yards...100...50... Just as the arrow struck the unsuspecting dragon, Rena spoke the words to activate her spell, causing the pent up energy inside the steel to ignite with the destructive force of a careless alchemist on a bad day. The effect was greater than she had hoped for. For a moment, the only thing visible was a flaming tornado of fire spiralling around the very surprised dragon. Before it could so much as cry out in pain, her prey fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.
The last thing Dante saw before unconsciousness claimed him was a female anthro-wolf drop from a tree, before walking towards him as his vision sunk into darkness, and he knew no more.