Songs of the Dragons Vol #1 Promenade of Fear Chapter 1
The world of Rheasa is in grave danger a darkness is awakening from the depths of the world, and only the Draghnarok the half blood can find the way to to allow the dark dragon to slumber once again. However fate may has other things in store for the young hero, and he maybe forced to chose between the light and the darkness, he had venture into the land of the eight kingdoms and find the ancient songs that had been forged by the first dragon to ever exist, Rayzock had written eight beautiful songs that contained a magic spell within them that would compel the darkness of Obsidian into a deep slumber that would last forever, however if the songs aren't sung before the the dark dragon was to awaken the last resort is the Dragon's Stone which may conceal the fate of the last remaining dragons of the world. Can the Draghnarok find the courage to seek the missing songs? Or will Obsidian succeed in swallowing the sun?
Chapter One - Unfortunate News
All was still upon the mountain peak. Mist had drifted from the sea nearby and was clinging to the mountains below. The only sound to be heard was of the wind which was screaming and howling breaking the calm silence and caused the freshly fallen snow to drift.
"The wind, it is strangely sour tonight," The elder dragon said. "Odd,"
When the old dragon emerged from the gaping mouth of his cave he looked gloomily upon the sky. The cold winter weather had always made his joints sore.
"Athkor?" The sound of a familiar voice caused the Emerald dragon to turn his mighty head to where it had come from, his ears erect as he looked about in the stormy darkness. "Ah, there you are!"
The voice belonged to Stricks. A young white owl whose talons were gripped tightly upon an empty dead branch of the old cherry tree that was now in a deep wintery slumber.
"What is it Stricks what news you bring from the world below?" Athkor inquired, his eyes looking towards the owl, although the whipping of the wind made it mere impossible to see the owl, but that didn't bother the dragon for even in his old age he had the best eye sight.
'The Beings down below my lord are arguing over a new ruler since the old King had died," Stricks responded ruffling his feathers as he clicked his tongue in a nerviness.
"Terrible times indeed," Said Athkor sighing slightly. His emerald scales glowed brilliantly in the darkened night, the clouds above began to show signs of snow, which explained why his limbs were sore.
"Weather moving in owl, what other news do you bring me from the world beneath?"
"Well, there is rumors...rumors of most terrible things," Stricks sighed slightly.
"What rumors?" Athkor inquired looking at the owl with a curious expression upon his muzzle.
"There are those whom believe that he is awakening,"
There was a moment of silence which fell between the owl and the dragon. The dragon's large wings spread open and gently swopped over each other like two large Japanese fans causing a gust of wind to hurtle the snow beneath him.
"Lies, that is not true Stricks," The dragon said in an angered tone. "He who lives beneath cannot escape his prison unless he has awoken,"
Calming himself down, the dragon folded his large wings and sighed and said apologetically "I am sorry,"
"It is alright Athkor, but it is true, Obsidian is rising and the gate is shattering, we have sixteen months before he is released,"
"Are you positive, sixteen months?" Athkor asked, his body rising and falling with deep breaths of pure panic.
"It is time," The elder's voice said taking a deep breath. "Time to reunite," There was a moment of silence which fell between them. "Send the message,"
"Right master," Stricks said trilling slightly as he then opened his wings allowing the wind to catch him. He lifted up into the air and began to fly silently through the air. He turned his head back and saw that the large dragon had disappeared into the cave.
Athkor sighed slightly. The candles which had been lit in his cave flickered back and forth due to the draft that somehow found its way into the cave.
"Bad times indeed," The dragon said walking towards a wooden desk where piles of books and rolled up parchment resided.
"If Obsidian is to awaken, I fear the worst for me and my brothers," The dragon took his large claws and gently opened one of the scrolls and upon the parchment were sketches of eight mighty monoliths that resided within the land
"If the songs aren't sung to appease Obsidian, I fear the worst for the world below," The dragon sighed and gently glided his claw upon the old parchment, feeling its texture as he sighed.
"But alas only the Draghnarok can find the songs of old, the songs in which my father and his kin had sung the mighty Obsidian to sleep,"
The dragon then sighed again and sat upon his haunches, the candle light flickering back and forth, casting his shadow upon the cave wall.
"I fear the worst for both our worlds, what am I to do father, what is to come?"
"He will emerge from the shadows, he will emerge from the light, keep fate my son for the Draghnarok is coming, and only he can stop Obsidian from swallowing the sun," A deep voice echoed in the wind, the voice of his father, the first dragon to ever have existed.
***
Owls have always been messengers of the dragons for as long as Stricks could remember, his great grandmother had even served Lord Ryzock the very first dragon born in this realm. All dragons contained at least one owl messenger that would fly into the skies to deliver their messages.
When an owl had to send a message to all the dragons his task was simple, find the closest dragon that was near their master and relay their message to the dragon's messenger, and then that messenger will give the message to the other dragon's owl and so on and so forth until the message is delivered to all ten dragons.
The owl's wings were now straightened out and Stricks was now flying smoothly through the gale which howled and screamed like an elusive banshee. The owl grunted slightly as he pushed himself through the harsh snow, his eyes fixated upon the destined course.
His wings were beginning to freeze over his feathers as they flapped a few times to break the ice that was forming upon them.
Stricks continued through his perilous journey when suddenly he felt something hit him, which caused him to begin to crash down towards the ground at a rapid rate. Whatever it was it hit hard and he wouldn't' be surprised if he would be paralyzed.
He soon found himself crashing to the ground, letting out a yelp of pain as one of his wings is sprained under the pressure of the impact. Stricks tried to get himself up for fear of a wolf or other dominate predator was to come and try and eat him, he knew all too well of the dangers to the world for an owl.
He looked about him, but the blowing snow made it difficult for him to see. He grunted slightly lifting up his wing and winced in pain falling to the ground once again and soon found himself falling into a deep and uneasy sleep.