Dragon Wars Chapter 1

Enjoy. That's all I'm gonna say.

The Trizayn Armed Forces stood poised at the edge of the seashore. Their suits were green and caked in stale blood from the riveting combat they had faced. Among them, a young man by the name of Esthon.

Esthon was a powerful military leader and a strong fighter. But, no, Esthon was no ordinary man. He was the one from the prophecy.

Esthon did not know this, but as he stood on the seashore, something incredible happened.

The Armed Forces heard a rustling noise behind them coming from the thistle. They jerked their swords around, and out of the thistle came three shadowy figures, all armed with midnight black swords. When they approached, their voice hissed.
This voice seemed familiar to Esthon. As they drew nearer, Esthon could make out a small mark on their palm. Esthon  stepped forward and into the moonlight came…..

The Dragonriders.

 

CHAPTER 1

“He died, Tron!” I said, beginning to tear up.

 “No, he’s always with us. He’ll never forget what he did and his friends. C’mon, we got to get to the funeral.” Said Tron, my now only friend.

 My closest friend in the Trizaynian army was Benjamin. He had just been killed by the Dragonriders, the ones who disrupt our peace. They kill many, because the ruler of them, the god of darkness and of supreme power, Thane, wants power over us and wants our flesh and blood, so he can start a new way of life.

 I followed Tron towards the funeral room. I was so used to Benjamin being at my sad, that there was a lonely emptiness in the way I marched.

 Once we reached the funeral room, we lined up to pray for Benjamin. I was first, being his closest friend.

I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. I began sobbing quietly as I looked into Ben’s dead eyes. I set a medal that I had received into his casket. Then, I said a prayer:

Gods of the heavens,

This good man’s will to our country,

Has done so much for us,

Give him his last breath of life,

And may he know I am with him,

For eternity.

May he rest in everlasting peace,

 And dream of the things he’s done for us.

 Lord of the Lords.

 I marched away, sobbing into my hands, looking back just once more before seeing the casket close.

Without answering interrogating guards on why I was leaving, I slowly strode back to camp.

 I plopped onto my bed and slept until morning.

When the church bells chimed three in the morn, I got up, looking for Benjamin, and then realizing he was gone.

I got up at the third chime of the church bell and moseyed out the door, the lonely emptiness following me everywhere I went, for Benjamin was gone.

 My spear in a firm, powerful grip, I was put on watchtower duties with a few soldiers I didn’t know. We stayed focused on our work, and never said a word.

Out of nowhere, I saw people from town rushing to the center of town, where the monument of our king stood.

“Eh buddy, look!” the soldier turned around and so did the other one.  “Oh. My. God.” He said, pausing at each word. “I forgot! Today is Judgment Day! C’mon! We got to tell the General!”

 Judgment day was a scary day for everyone. On the first eclipse of the year, you were told to come to Town Square and let the king judge you on your abilities, and if you were worthy enough to even live. It wasn’t right, and we soldiers knew that, but we had to let it happen, else we would die under our evil king’s power.

  We rushed to the General’s, who was already dealing out men for the job of killing people if they weren’t worthy. I saw the grimaces weave their ways onto the men's faces as they were picked.

 I was picked, too.

I fumbled for my sword at the end of my belt, withdrew it, then set off to Town Square to do my duty.

 This was way too much in two days. Ben dying, now Judgment Day.

I saw the terrified faces of the men, women, and children as we walked by. I knew all the soldiers sent out for Kill Duty weren’t happy either.

When we came to a halt beside the king at Town Square, we stood in two orderly rows on either side of the king. The king, Lennoth, nodded and saluted to us, and we saluted back reluctantly.

 Lennoth stood up, his gold and black cane in his right hand and began, “People of Trizayn! I bring you Judgment Day, the day where you are tested to the limits of your blood. Here stand our loyal soldiers that serve our country. If I decide you are not worthy, their razor-sharp blades shall tear the flesh off of your helpless body! We will now begin our ceremony starting with…” Lennoth scanned a piece of parchment then said, “Hans William! Come forth please!”

 I saw a young boy, about twelve, boldly step away from his parents, suck in a deep breath, then walk towards the king. He bowed low, the stuck out his right arm for the blood to be tested for worthiness.

The soldier from the tower stepped from the crowd with a sword and a canteen. The boy looked away in pain and the soldier reluctantly cut the boy with a sword, spilling three drops of blood into a small canteen. The boy was given a gauze pad to stop the bleeding.

The king drank the blood and cocked his head for a moment, then sat back up. “I’m sorry, but you just aren’t worthy. Your blood says that to me.”

 We soldiers withdrew our swords, laid the boy down as he fussed with our blades, but finally, a soldier got him through the heart. The woman that must have been his mother cried pitifully, as her only son was gone, courtesy of us and Lennoth.

Many others were called, and by sundown, we had lost 100 men, 150 women, and 50 children of Trizayn, totaling 300 people killed in the Judgment.

When the Judgment ended, we headed back to camp and settled down for the night.

 I didn’t sleep as peacefully as I would have hoped. The sound of clanking metal was at the battlefield, which put me in a state of worry, for those out fighting, and for us, that we wouldn’t die.

When I woke up, it was 3 o’ clock in the morning and I got up and noticed that many of the other soldiers were already gone.

I darted outside, worried. I found the body of Fargo, a boy from my cabin on the ground, an arrow piercing his shoulder. I saw George, another boy from my cabin, that cold, dead look in his eyes.

 I thought what could have done this, then it hit me like a pound of rocks�"The Dragonriders had invaded again.

 I was darn lucky to find Tron injured, but alive. I immediately put him on a stretcher and carried him over to the Hospital Bay with the General’s help.

 The doctors there quickly fixed him up with a quick surgery on his arm. I was relieved when he woke up from anesthesia. When he woke up and felt he was ready to leave, we set off to our cabin and talked until we had to report for duty.

 The General stopped me dead in my tracks first thing when I walked out the door.

 “Son, I want to talk to you,” he barked.

I shivered. The icy tone in his voice horrified me. What had I done?

On our way to his office, I didn’t hear him clink the knife.

 I sat down tentatively. I gulped in horror as he began to speak.

 “Well, from what villagers are saying, you are the one from the prophecy.”

 I gasped. The prophecy stated that in time of trouble, a savior would be born on the 13^th of October, with a single image engraved in his mind�"peace.

 Indeed, I was born on the 13^th of October, and I dreamed of a peaceful land. Could it be?

 “No! I am not the one!” I snapped. I was dead scared of being a savior.

 “But you are, and I don’t like it! You must serve in our forces and fight for peace, not be some godly savior, Esthon!” he boomed. That’s when the pocket knife clicked in between his fingers, and he stabbed my shoulder, making a deep cut.  The last thing I saw was a masked man point a spear at the General.

 While I was unconscious, the masked man fought the General and killed him, then motioned for two other masked men to carry me to the Hospital Bay.

 They had a bandage with them that they put on my shoulder. It clogged almost instantly.

 When they reached the Hospital Bay, they sprinted inside, and tapped the doctor on the shoulder.

 “Oh my! Thank you for bringing him in, gentlemen,” the surgeon said. The masked men bowed and saluted, then waited outside for me to be healed.

The surgeons quickly got to work. They stitched up the cut and gave me painkiller for it after I woke up. I was groggy, but I was alive.

 After a week or so, I was released from the Hospital Bay. I found the masked men waiting by the door.

 “You saved my life,” I said.

“No need to thank the Guardians of Trizayn, son. We are just protecting you from danger so you can save Trizayn.”

 “So all this, ‘I’m the savior’ junk is true?”

  “It is true, and we have been summoned by the god of light and of peace, Jayne, to guide and train you before you are sent to battle the Dragonriders.”

 “Oh, god.”

 “Come, let us go.”

As the masked men lead me through a deep forest and across an unstable path of stones across a flooding river, they spoke in a different language to each other. I had never heard the language, even though I had conversed with many different nationalities of people.

 When we reached the edge of the forest, I smelled smoke, and I heard dancing and the different language being yelled.

Then, I saw it. The most glorious thing I had seen in many years.

I saw happiness.

 Many masked men enjoyed mango juices and laughed and talked in the language I had never heard. I bonfire raged in the center of them, creating a beautiful scene. Their axes, maces, swords, and spears where laid down in peace.

 I stood, shocked. I had never seen peace between men since the Dragonriders invaded.

 One of the masked men spoke in that different language to what reminded me of a chieftain.

 He turned around and said, “Boy, meet Alagusta Sinladen. He is the head of the Guardians of Trizayn.”

 “Greetings, Man of Might.”

 Alagusta shook my hand with a powerful grip. He saluted, then whistled loudly and two men wearing bird-like white and gold masks came out.

 “Omar, Saber, meet the savior of Trizayn, Esthon.”

  “Greetings, Young One,” said Omar.

 “Pleasure to meet you, Man of Might,” said Saber.

“These two are the Exceeded Guardians of Trizayn, or the EGT. They have mastered the art of being a Guardian for many, many years, and have graduated into being one of the most dangerous warriors on Earth, even more treacherous than the army. They have traveled great distances to find you, and are ready to train you in the art of Saviorship. They are your bodyguards and personal trainers.”

 “Okay….”

“We shall teach you the ways of a savior. Come.”

 I followed, saluting all the masked men I saw. They did a strange sign, what I assumed meant “walk in peace.” They put their hand to their mouth bent their middle finger, then turned their hand upside down.

 As the EGT led me down a maze of paths to one, single log cabin deep in the woods, they spoke to me about their way of life, the do’s and don’ts basically.

They led me inside the dimly lit log cabin. I gazed around in awe. Swords, armor, maces, lances, axes, specialty swords, spears, war hammers, and even a helm from the great military leader, Caran.

 “Whoa,” I said.

 “No time, no time to gaze. Come, Young One. You have much to learn and little time to learn it,” barked Omar.

 We passed many rooms full to the brim with potential saviors and Trizayn Guardians.

Finally, we reached a secluded room in the back of the cabin. Saber open the door and motioned me inside.

 When I stepped through that door, a sudden pang of emptiness and loneliness hit me like a ton of rocks. My whole life seemed shift backwards to a painful, sorrowful time in my life.

It was when I was born.

The way the room was set up, the loneliness, the emptiness, the pain, the sorrow, the fright, and the tension, reminded me that I was orphaned when I was young I was left on the side of a river, floating in a basket until I reached Trizayn. Days later, a young sorcerer found me. She cared for me until I was called for the army. It was a hard time for her, and she died a mysterious death the day after I left.

I shook the thought clear of my mind and strode to Omar where he held a black spear with spikes at the end, and emeralds lining the body.

 “This,” he began “is a sacred spear passed down from generation to generation of saviors.  It is a tradition that the next savior of Trizayn must walk in its pride.”

 I nodded.

“Are you ready to learn the ways of the scared spear?” he asked.

 “I am,” I replied sternly, turning my gaze to the floor.

 “Superb. Let us go.”

 We began training then and there. Omar did most of the training, but Saber added a few additional comments on my form and usage of the spear.

 I was drenched half way through the lesson. I got no break, and that resolved in me breathing hard, and almost fainting many times.

At the end, Saber mumbled something to Omar then looked back at me and said, “If one is to bear the ancient sacred spear, they must bear the ancient mark of the sacred sword. Come close, Man of Might.”

 I stepped forward. Saber fiddled with my jacket for a minute, then took out a small knife. A burst of adrenaline shot through me, and fright began to blossom throughout my body.

 “What the damn hell do you think you’re doing?!” I cursed.

 “I am creating the Sacred Spear mark. It is a painful procedure, but it is worth it.”

 I cringed as I felt a the knife etching a shape into my chest. Cold, sweet blood dripped down my chest.

The agony must have lasted at least twenty minutes before Saber had finished etching the shape into my chest, and I had stopped crying.

I looked down to see a scar in the shape of a twisting flame with a line through it. My chest hurt terribly, but I resisted telling Saber and Omar.

“Perfection, my friend” said Omar jovially. They saluted and turned back to me, drenched in sweat, blood trickling down my chest and down my jacket.

 “You okay, good man?” Omar asked cheerfully.

 “I guess…” I trailed off.

 They dismissed me and showed me to my cabin. They told me the rules that I was to follow in training, and after they left me to my business, I fell into a deep sleep.

 While I slept, I dreamed something horrific. I dreamed that somehow, someway, I would die or be permanently injured from the Dragonriders and their cruel ways.

When I awoke, it was not yet time for lessons, nor a day for them since it was raining. I got dressed in a uniform that laid on the edge of my bed, shaved, then strode outside into the pouring rain.

 The rain ceased half way through my walk through town, but lessons were still called off.

 Once I reached the edge of town and I walked a little further, maybe a mile, I came to something quite strange.

It was a cave, with a rusted, metal gate. Two lion statues stood on either side, their paint cracked and rusted.

 The gate was easy to open, with just s slight push, it made a loud, ear-piercing screech and creaked open.

I cautiously gazed around the cavern. It was lit by oil lamps burning above my head. The path was narrow and slim, with a low ceiling.

As soon as I stepped inside the cavern, I was amazed. The cavern had the bodies of dead soldiers buried in this cave.

 In the back of the cave, there was a statue of God, and a pedestal was below it, with a red book. It had a black piece of ribbon as a marker. I opened the book to the marked page and began reading:

August 23, 1615

The time has come.

My son is to be born in minutes and he shall save Trizayn, he shall relieve us of our fears.

 But we cannot afford to keep him, for if the king found out that the savior had been found, by two thieves, he would whip us to a painful death and leave the baby to die and he would train his dear son, Narath, in Saviorship.

The name of the boy will be Esthon-

I scanned the page again, eyes wide. Esthon? 1615? 1615 was the date I was born, and Esthon was my name.

I kept reading, my heart pounding in my ears:

We hope Esthon will live a long, happy life after he fights off the Dragonriders. But one thing we do not hope, is that since he is Elven, that someone will break into his mind and kill him.

                                      -Jerald Hawthorne

I was an elf? My head was spinning fast; me an elf, my parents thieves.

 Finally, I shook my head clear of the thoughts and ran back to my cabin as quickly as possibly could.

 Little did I know, the facts I had just found out were about to take their toll.

Author's Note

Ignore all grammar as usual, and give me constructive criticism, and tell me what I could improve on with plot structure, character creation, word usage, and stuff like that.

Reviews

[TheElfPrincess]

A good opening to an interesting tale. The characters you have are well developed and described well. A good story, of which I'm curious to see how it goes on.