Prologue- or so they say 6

Enter the dragon knight. The raid continues.

When Balthazar next stops even he is gasping into the frigid, sodden air just like the others. Skye shows up at his side another minute later, falling to the brambles and moss of the forest, desperately choking in any oxygen he can. His frail sister, now conscious and sitting on a raised tree root, coughs a couple of times against her shoulder, and manages to mumble, “We have t-” the sentence drops out, incomplete.

Thunder, they first assume. However, the sound isn't quite right as it reverberates through them. There is an animalistic quality to it, and Phsy recognizes it for what it really is, refusing to make a further attempt at speaking should it hear them. Nina prepares a wail, knowing something is terribly off, and lets her mouth draw wide only to have her father's hand clap over it in hurried tension. Phsy locks gazes with the immense elvan man and begins a fidgety gnawing at her bottom lip. Skye spies her behavior and instantly knows something wicked is about to happen. He scours the treetops for whatever might have emitted such a demented sound. 

A bird-like shadow, dulled out by the clouds, passes overhead; it seems small, but so do all things high up in the atmosphere. Phsy catches her little brother's entranced gaze and turns her own eyes up to see what he does- sick grayness blankets her skin. The further the phantom drops through the clouds, the clearer becomes the silhouette of what it truly is: long spindled tail, drawn, feathery wings, and a scale-shimmered body so colossal titans are put to shame.

With a beat of its wings, the dragon shoots up far beyond the cloud layer, vanishing instantaneously. If this thing is anything like predatory birds, Skye recognizes, it's about to dive. By the pinprick pupils of Phsy's eyes, his belief is confirmed. The clouds rotate slowly, and from the center of a new-formed spiral plunges the pearlescent beast's form- wings wrapped around it's careening frame so tightly the speck of a rider on it's back , smothered into its mane, is nearly invisible. 

Blathazar prods Skye towards the river, snapping through bared teeth, “To the ocean-” Nina and Phsy are shoved behind him. The man flails himself in the opposite direction, arms waving wide, unsteady arcs to try and catch it's gaze. The beast continues its burning descent, pawing the air. Adjusting its course. Aiming for them at such a sharp angle it will be impossible to pull out of. The beast's intent is clear. 

Nina tears for the river, shrieking unrelenting, languageless things, the other two close behind. The dragon fails to deviate from it's course, talons extended toward the fleeing elves. All of a sudden frantic words, a male's voice, roar out at the beast and the dragon's expression bursts from murderous intent to terror. Too close to the canopy to fly back up the creature releases its wings in a flurry of effort, buoying itself for a mere second before it careens to the earth. Air currents warp around it, throwing everyone to the ground in the earthquake of its crude landing.

Dragons are proud beasts. What had the voice told it? The dragon let itself smash to the earth, completely undignified, and at the risk of its own death. Before Phsy's eyes can blink to process this concept, a whip tail sails just inches from her face and flips the miniscule redheaded Nina into the river. The girl is rendered instantly unconscious. Balthazar suffers a similar fate from the thrashing of the creature's bone-plated head as he tries to reach his daughter. Skye rolls to his side, vying to see the whole of the beast snapping at the air about them now- it's caught precariously among a copse of splintered trees. It will be free within the next breath. Being large as it is, it would seem the forest will slow the pearlescent, cloud-white dragon. Time warps in around the beast, the shimmering of it's scales amidst snowflakes and evergreens easing the universe into a stillness and slow motion. . .

It lunges through the tree barricade, it's rider swaying as if the motion is second-nature, quick and precise, it's ivory-tainted claws shattering all before it. The path to the river has vanished. Skye can see Balthazar's splayed body at the river's edge just before Phsy jerks him over a tree trunk. He doesn't look back again- there isn't a need to. One blink and the dragon is upon them. Second blink, and they're snatched up by the dragon's hands and hurled into a clearing. By the third blink Phsy and Skye are on their backs watching pearly blue scales encircle them. A roar into their faces and the elves are paralyzed. 

Phsy fumbles with Skye's hand, ears hissing a steady 'zeen', universe spiraling and colliding into itself...she's standing before she even realizes it, swaying with every pulse of nausea through her body. Skye's hand- she can't even feel it. The child is snapping his sights from one potential escape route to another until he sees the look of fatigue across his sister's face. They're going to die.

The dragon shifts it's tail to completely block off their potential exits as they begin to recover. It studies them through massive silver eyes- pupils mere star-shaped pinpricks set therein. Upon its shoulders, a black-armored dragon knight gets to his feet, swinging himself off the saddle and onto his beast's outstretched 'hand'. The knight jumps to the icy, forest floor, freezing rain pelting across his armor with one -ting- after another. Skye's eyes widen and he finds his fists clenched full of the yellow fabric of Phsy's dress. Their murderer. This dragon knight. Hand always on the pommel of his sword, waiting for either to dare and make a move.

The siblings stare the knight down as he guardedly stalks a wide circle about them. He puts extra weight on his left leg. Damaged in his dragon's landing, Phsy observes...she also observes how intensely the man looks at them through the visor of his helmet. Studying. Deciding. He's tall- taller even than Balthazar. The black armor that adorns him is edged in white and gold. Expensive, stylish, and well-fitting. High ranking. He stops the circle to peer at them head-on, gloved fingertips tracing tiny swirls on the inlaid gems of his sword hilt. Skye feels the pressure of his sister's hand overtop his own -the man takes a step. Her two hands slip up against his back, immediately followed a shove forceful enough to send the little elvan boy careening towards the dragon's tail. He manages an awkward grappling at the "fur" across the top side of the beast's hind end as it tries to shake him back into the ring its created. Phsy sprints to try and follow, heaving him over the writhing scales of the dragon. Knight and dragon are quick to respond.

Metallic click, chink, and a whirr past their faces. Sword. The knight's sword. He threw it. Over the tail and racing for the river. A white wall of scales and teeth flies into sight. Divert paths again. They keep running. A falling tree tapers off towards the river as the dragon slams itself up against a line of pines just beyond. Phsy shoves her brother up the angled carcass of the tree; unquestioningly he sprints on, diving to dance about a branch ahead. No time to check what's behind him. The old pine shatters against the forest floor, Skye's body is flung into the river- hitting the water as if it were concrete. Her heart flutters in the brief moment it takes the pale child to surface. At the sight of his gasping features all of her effort transfers to keeping her leg muscles moving for that water. With the dragon momentarily held off, this might be their only chance.

Jaws snap somewhere to her left; she trips as she attempts a backwards glance and finds herself caught around the waist by the black knight's arm. A gauntleted hand grips her neck before a cry can even form on her lips. Thighs and calves burning, she flails her legs in the air- without much success- and winds up smeared against a tree to prevent further attempts. Immediately the forest stills. In her peripheral vision she spies both the dragon -now watching her and its master- and her brother...the latter quickly vanishing amidst sleet and river currents. Throwing her head back, she knocks the man's helmet off. The grip on her throat seizes, "Stop it." Low voice. Smooth tone. Elvan words, but the accent is strange. The knight doesn't make further promises not to hurt her, nor try to force himself upon her; instead he chooses to loosen his hold on her coppery neck. She sputters and gags, wheezing through the inferno in her lungs... he knows he has the upper hand.

Snapping her right hand up as hard as she can she rakes her nails over the human's eye. The knight utters a mix of a growl and a hiss, prying her arms back down to her sides. Both share a series of pained  breaths for about a minute, neither sure what more to do with their situation. Phsy's body heaves with coughs and a few more choking gasps; through it all she can feel the man fidget a few times to adjust the way his  knees have her legs pinned up against the tree. Is he stalling? Why not kill her now?  

The river is just on the other side of the tree. Skye is in the river. Skye is likely near to drowning. Her body is going to give out. The knight can out run her, overpower her, and kill both her and her brother. The dragon...well- the dragon is a dragon. The elvan woman huffs as her body's aching catches up with her. Now. She has to act now. Before the knight does. Whipping her head back again she hits the man square in the nose- the 'crack' renews her nausea. The brief moment of alarm this activates is enough to distract the man's senses as Phsy flips herself away from him, wheeling backwards into the river.

In between rapids and gasping she makes out a variety of shrill voices screaming commands, dragon wingbeats, and the steady roar of ice and rain mixed with peels of thunder. Phsy cannot swim well... and in her current state it makes it all the more impossible. Every time the river sucks her under its numbing waters she knows the tingling in her brain is the last thing she will ever feel. Flashes of the white dragon pass every few breaths she takes- the black-armored knight's silhouette sprints close by the riverbanks for a time, but seems to vanish as her body begins to stiffen. Something latches on to her- hands- she thrashes and tries to pull away. The freezing hands press against her face. Skye. Its Skye. Relief.

The siblings huddle as the river hurtles them towards the ocean. Skye, face paler than Phsy's ever seen it, tugs at her waist, gradually drawing them to a boulder jutting off from the shore. He wastes no time thereafter in dragging her barely moving form up beside him on the granite. Lightning bursts through the clouds; the thunder feels as if just overtop of them. She coughs. Again. And again. Shivering through and through, Skye hopes the mixed clamor about them will drown out Phsy's struggles to breathe. At least he found her...but they hardly qualify as safe, or hidden. Coercing himself into a sitting position he feels shudders of cold roll over him. Balthazar and Nina are no where to be seen, and Phsy is mostly unresponsive, which leaves them with no plan of action. Get to the river. That was all that was said in their frenzy to escape- and the dragon. Where is the dragon? Searching for a flying form amidst the slushy pieces of snow is a task within itself. They're freezing to death, and then they're going to be eaten alive before the day is out, he's certain.

What diverts his attention, he isn't sure, but what he sees fifty feet off on the opposite bank, silently watching them, will ingrain itself in his  memory for years. The knight, wiping blood from his face, stares the elves down with a sinister fierceness encompassed in the pure, cold elegance about his features. Even in the shadows of clouds and trees Skye can detect the man's skin is a coppery-tone like his sister's. Skye starts to stand up now, halting when the human concentrates his glare. Dark waves of hair- sloppily tied off- frame eyes that bore holes through his skull. Eyes that see everything at once that there ever was, or is, to see. Eyes like captured, crystalized pieces of the sea itself.

"Phsy." She doesn't respond. "Phsy-" hand outstretched for his older sister's arm -  his limbs lock up in response to the movement of a blur on the edges of his sight. The knight whirls to peer into the depths of the forest, reacting to dozens of male voices yelling back where he and his dragon crash landed. 

Skye gets one long, hesitant back-glance before the steely-eyed man jumps off his perch and sprints away toward the voices. The child slips back down next to his sister and breathes. Slowly. While he still can. His breath melts snowflakes. It's snowing? Another breath. The knight won't be gone for long...he's aware that his prey is rapidly losing the race. But they have to try. 

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Author's Note

1st draft of this chapter, so it may go through some drastic changes soon.