Winged Warrior fl-7

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “Do I look like a horse?” snarled the dragon. “My back was not designed for the comforts of humans. Forget it. I am going back to my nap.”

  “You can’t,” pleaded Rejji. “Marak is counting on your help. He will be here any minute.”

  “Perhaps I should stay and eat him when he arrives,” mused Myka. “That would teach you a lesson. I am not your pet, nor am I a trained animal to do your bidding. I am a dragon, and I am to be feared and respected.”

  “You are already feared and respected,” came a new voice as Emperor Marak exited the forest trail and walked towards Myka and Rejji. “I saw your dive as I was leaving the city. It was most impressive. All of the citizens scattered and fled for their lives.”

  “Except for you?” snapped Myka as her eyes bored into the Emperor. “Why is it that you do not fear and respect me?”

  Marak walked right up to the dragon’s snout and bowed low before Myka.

  “How could I not respect the Queen of the Dragons?” asked Emperor Marak. “It is said that you are the oldest and wisest species in the world. The old tales state that you were around at the beginning of time.”

  “Finally,” huffed Myka, “someone who appreciates me. But what about the fear, warrior? Why are you not trembling in your boots?”

  “I hide my fear better than most men,” declared Marak. “When half the world wants to kill you on sight, it is best that you do not tremble at all.”

  One of Myka’s eyes closed while the other peered intensely at the warrior. She could not make up her mind if she liked him or not. He was certainly different than the others.

  “So you wanted to meet me,” Myka said condescendingly. “Well, you have met me. Now, I will return to my nap.”

  “Please,” Emperor Marak said softly. “I have wanted to meet you for some time now, but many people depend upon me. I just haven’t been able to find the time. I need your help today. That is why I have come to see you.”

  “Honest to a fault,” shrugged Myka, “but that earns you no points in my book. My services are not available to strangers. Go find a swift horse.”

  “A horse?” echoed Marak. “To fly across the ocean?”

  “Then take a boat,” snapped Myka. “I do not give rides.”

  “There is no time for a ship,” Marak replied stubbornly. “I must get to the elves and back quickly. The Time of Cleansing has begun.”

  “Elves?” echoed Myka with sudden interest. “Rejji knows an elf, although she claims that she is not one. What was the name of the baby maker?”

  “We used to call her Mistake,” Rejji answered.

  “She is now known as Princess Alahara,” added Marak. “Her father is King Avalar, and it is who I must speak to.”

  “Mistake is a princess?” chuckled Myka. “Now that is rich. We must have pity on the poor elves, if any still exist.”

  “The elves still exist,” insisted Marak. “When we get to Elvangar, you will see for yourself.”

  “You presume a great deal, friend of Rejji’s,” retorted the dragon. “We are not going to Elvangar or anywhere else. I am returning to my nap.”

  Myka was preparing to take off when Rejji responded, “He is more than my friend. He is the Torak and should be treated with respect, the same as you demand.”

  Myka’s head swiveled around, and she gazed at Marak again. Slowly she turned around to face the humans.

  “The Torak?” she asked. “By what right do you take this name?”

  “It is the name given to me by Kaltara,” declared Marak. “You have heard of it?”

  “Kaltara is the elven god,” the dragon said suspiciously. “You are not an elf.”

  “Kaltara is everyone’s god,” corrected Marak. “Perhaps the elves did not lose faith in Kaltara as the humans did, but we are relearning that faith. Don’t you believe in Kaltara?”

  “What a foolish question,” replied Myka. “You already acknowledged that the dragons have been around forever. How could we not believe in Kaltara?”

  “We?” questioned the Torak. “Are there more dragons still alive?”

  “I would hope so,” mused Myka, “but I have not seen another in many years. Someday I will go looking for them, but not today.”

  “Perhaps we will find some on the way to Elvangar,” smiled Marak. “That would be exciting.”

  “That would be exciting,” nodded Myka before catching herself. “You are tricky, Torak, but you have not fooled me. There are no dragons in Elvangar. You are trying to trick me into helping you.”

  “Perhaps,” shrugged the Torak. “I have never been to Elvangar, so I honestly do not know if dragons live there or not. Do you know?”

  “I don’t,” admitted Myka. “And if there are no dragons, the trip will be boring and a waste of time.”

  “And if there are,” countered Marak, “and you don’t make the trip, you will never meet them. Dragons live for many years, Myka. I am asking for only one day. Where is your sense of adventure?”

  “Adventure?” echoed the dragon. “Flying with a human on my back is supposed to be adventure?”

  “Can you imagine swooping down on an elven city?” grinned Rejji. “And with a human on your back to boot? That would stir some excitement in Elvangar. There has not been a human there in thousands of years.”

  “There haven’t been any humans in Elvangar?” Myka asked suspiciously. “Will we be attacked when I carry the Torak there?”

  “No,” answered Marak. “I have spoken to King Avalar about the journey. He is quite excited to meet one of the ancient winged warriors.”

  “Winged warriors,” grinned Myka. “Now there is a term that I have not heard in a long time. The elves always knew how to respect dragons. This King Avalar sounds wise indeed.”

  “Then you will take me?” smiled Marak.

  “Climb on before I change my mind, Torak,” snorted Myka. “I hope you have a good sense of balance. The winds are quite strong today.”

  “She will dive unexpectedly,” Rejji whispered to Marak as Myka turned her back. “It is to scare you, but she will not let you fall.”

  Marak nodded and scampered up Myka’s back. Before Marak could get situated, Myka launched off the ground. Marak grabbed a scale and hung on as the dragon soared into the air. He did not move until the dragon leveled out high in the sky.

  “Do you know where Elvangar is?” shouted Marak as he removed a knife from his belt and began carving a slit in one of the large scales.

  “Of course I know the way,” replied Myka. “I am a dragon after all.”

  When Myka did not react to the knife, Marak dug deeper until the blade was firmly entrenched in the scale. He held onto the knife with both hands.

  Myka had soared high in the air before leveling out, and Marak now looked down. The ocean spread out in a seemingly endless blanket of blue. He turned and looked back and saw the landmass of Fakara. The ancient city of Angragar was sparkling white and appeared very small as it faded behind them.

  Unexpectedly, Myka dove towards the water. Marak tightened his grip on the knife and hung on as the wind began to rush past him. His body felt as if it was floating freely as the sea rushed up to meet him. Tears flowed out of his eyes and were instantly swept away. He shut them tightly as began to feel lightheaded. He could hear the dragon cackling, but he kept his mouth tightly closed so that he didn’t accidentally bite his tongue. Just as suddenly as it began, Myka leveled out again. Marak’s body slammed against the scales of the dragon, and his arms felt like they were being torn from his body as he kept a tight grip on the knife. When he opened his eyes, he saw the waves not more than ten paces below him. The dragon was laughing hard.

  “I hear no screams back there,” Myka said as her head turned to look at Marak. “Ah, so you are still with me. I was not sure.”

  “Your flying skills are phenomenal,” complimented the Torak. “Have you ever misjudged and ended up in the sea?”

  “Of course not,” replied the dragon. “Why did you n
ot scream? Were you not afraid?”

  “Fear is in each of us all the time,” answered the Torak, “but that does not mean that we must always acknowledge it.”

  “You are a strange human,” grumbled Myka as she soared into the sky again. “How am I to have any fun if you do not show your fear?”

  “Fun?” echoed the Torak. “I cannot imagine you not having fun just flying around. What an exhilarating feeling to be so high in the sky. I bet you take it for granted, don’t you?”

  “Flying?” frowned the dragon. “Of course I do. I am a dragon. What good would it be to be a dragon and not fly?”

  “What does it feel like?” asked the Torak.

  The dragon was silent for a moment and Marak looked around again. Fakara was barely visible in the distance, and another land mass appeared far to the right.

  “I don’t know how to explain it,” Myka finally answered. “How would you describe the sensation of walking? Flying in itself is nothing, but maneuvering is everything. When you soar and dive, it is a feeling of being alive. An energy races through your body, and when your path calls for precision, that becomes exciting.”

  “Is that the Island of Darkness to our right?” shouted Emperor Marak.

  “It is an island,” answered Myka, “a very large island. I have heard it called Motanga, but I do not know the name Island of Darkness. Look far ahead of us. You will see little bumps on the horizon. Those are the Barrier Islands. They separate Elvangar from the human lands.”

  Marak shook his head. He had felt lightheaded during the dive, and the feeling had suddenly returned. He also noticed that he was breathing heavily, almost as if there was not enough air to breath. As he started thinking about how he was feeling, he realized that his body was chilled. He removed his hands from the knife and rubbed them to warm them.

  “So you have finally decided to trust my flying skills?” quipped the dragon.

  Marak suddenly realized that the dragon must have felt him burying his knife in the scale. He felt embarrassed.

  “I apologize,” replied the Torak. “I did not mean to cause you pain. I thought you could not feel it.”

  “It is not painful,” shrugged Myka, “but I can feel it. How did you know that I would dive?”

  “Rejji warned me,” admitted Marak. “It really was scary. I just try not to show my fear. Showing fear gives an advantage to your opponent.”

  “And you consider me an opponent?” asked Myka.

  “No,” answered Marak. “I consider you a magnificent flying creature. I know that you do not like people riding on your back, but I love it up here. To me, flying is new and exciting. It also allows me to see the world in a way that I could never imagine. I really feel bad that the thrill of flying is gone for you. If I had your capabilities, I would fly every day.”

  The dragon was silent for a long time. The Barrier Islands passed beneath them, and another landmass appeared before them. Unlike the desolation of Fakara, the new landmass was a vibrant green.

  “Going down,” announced Myka. “Grab your knife.”

  Marak quickly grabbed the knife as Myka headed downward. The rate of descent was not as harsh as before, but Marak eye’s still watered freely. When the dragon leveled off again, the Torak could see the Gates of Elvangar before them. Huge massive cliffs ran across the face of the island, and a tiny narrow gap ran straight down to the water. Tiny figures appeared atop the tall cliffs, and sparkling white buildings were visible beyond.

  “Thank you for the warning,” Marak said to the dragon.

  “You have shown your resourcefulness,” quipped Myka, “I do not need another hole in my scales.”

  “I am sorry for the hole,” apologized Marak. “Can I make it up to you somehow?”

  “You will,” grinned the dragon. “Just make sure that you always use the same hole. I don’t want every one of my scales perforated.”

  “I will never use the knife again,” promised the Torak. “I now know that you would feel me falling and save me. I will have no need of the knife on the way back.”

  “You will use the knife again, Torak,” replied Myka. “Just make sure that it is the same scale.”

  Marak frowned as he tried to decipher the dragon’s words. He wondered if she planned a wild ride for the trip back, but he did not pursue it.

  “Elvangar,” announced Myka as she soared over the Gates of Elvangar. “Where do I land?”

  “I was told to land near the Royal Tree,” replied Marak as he saw men on top of the Gates of Elvangar holding their swords high and pointing at the dragon. “They said that we would recognize it.”

  “And so we do,” replied Myka as she banked slightly and changed course. “That huge tree in the center of the city must be the Royal Tree.”

  “Are you going to swoop down and scare the elves?” asked Marak.

  “The elves do not fear dragons,” replied Myka. “In fact, they revere us. You could learn a great deal from the elves, Torak. Spend your time with them wisely, and listen carefully. They are wiser than even they know.”

  Marak let the dragon’s words roll around in his head, but the sights of the elven city soon distracted him. Morada was neatly laid out with green parks scattered throughout the city. He saw wooden buildings in some of the tall trees, and others on the ground made out of stone. The elven people all stopped what they were doing and pointed at the dragon. Those with swords raised their blades high, while those without weapons raised an empty hand. Marak turned and saw the elves running after the dragon.

  “What a difference between this city and Angragar,” commented Marak. “The elves are chasing you.”

  “They will converge at the Royal Tree when I land,” declared the dragon with a grin. “The elves love me. I hope they have something to eat.”

  Marak laughed and shook his head as Myka dropped lower. The Torak gripped his knife as the land sped up to meet them, but Myka’s landing was smooth and gentle. She landed on the grass underneath the Royal Tree.

  King Avalar and the two princesses were there to greet the dragon. A beautiful elven woman wearing a simple golden crown was with them. Marak assumed that she was the queen. As Marak pulled his knife free and slid down the back of the dragon, he saw the Royal Family bowing slightly to the dragon.

  “Welcome Winged Warrior,” greeted King Avalar. “It has been a long time since one of you has visited us. How are you called?”

  “I am Myka,” answered the dragon. “I come bearing the Torak.”

  “We thank you for bringing the Torak to Elvangar, Myka,” nodded King Avalar. “We shall have a feast in honor of this historic visit.”

  “I am honored by your gesture, King of the Elves,” replied the dragon.

  Marak noticed that the area where the dragon had landed was ringed by thousands of elves. They stared at the dragon with emotionless eyes, but many a smile dotted their faces. There was no fear among them. Marak walked around the dragon and bowed to King Avalar.

  “Welcome to Elvangar, Torak,” smiled King Avalar. “Allow me to introduce my wife, Queen Alycia.”

  Marak and Alycia bowed to each other. Her broad smile was genuine and Marak yearned to hear what happened after Avalar’s return from the Island of Darkness.

  “I have assembled a party of people to join us for the discussion about the elven participation in the coming war,” declared King Avalar. “Come join us in the throne room while the workers set up for the feast.”

  Avalar was about to say something to Myka about the feast when Princess Alahara moved forward and stood nose to snout with the dragon.

  “Don’t even think about eating any of my people,” Princess Alahara whispered to the dragon, her face a mask of seriousness.

  Myka’s tongue lashed out of her mouth and just barely touched Princess Alahara’s chest.

  “I am pleased that the baby maker has found a new home,” Myka said with a grin. “This means that my mountain will not be crawling with thousands of tiny elves.”

 
; While the words had not been heard by anyone other than Alahara and Myka, King Avalar hurried forward and gently grabbed Alahara’s arm.

  “What are you saying?” he asked. “The dragon is an honored guest in this land. Do not abuse her.”

  “I have taken no offense,” Myka said softly. “You are fortunate to have Mistake for a daughter. She has the courage to lead the elven people some day. Teach her the ways of the Winged Warriors. She will learn.”

  “Mistake?” frowned King Avalar. “You have known Princess Alahara before?”

  “Indeed, we have met before,” replied Myka. “She will tell you about it. She was on her way to see the Sage of the Mountain for help in finding her family. It is well that she succeeded.”

  “With your help,” Princess Alahara grudgingly added.

  “With my help,” nodded Myka. “Be well elven princess. We shall talk later after the feast.”

  Princess Alahara frowned, but she nodded and allowed her father to lead her away from the dragon.

  “She won’t eat any elves?” Princess Alahara asked her father.

  “She would never do such a thing,” answered Avalar. “You have much to learn about your people. Come with us to the throne room. Your input will be most welcomed.”

  The Royal Family and the Torak walked to the lift and rose up into the Royal Tree. Marak gazed about with interest at everything he saw.

  “I wish there was time to show you everything,” stated King Avalar, “but time is something that we are running out of. You are the first human to set foot in Elvangar in two thousand years. Coming in on the back of a winged warrior will mean much to the elven people. It will reinforce the fact that the elves are destined to be involved in this war.”

  “Why?” asked Marak.

  “Until now,” explained Avalar, “the elven people have only heard speeches about the human war. There has been a fear of humans coming here for thousands of year, and now you arrive. You did not arrive as a conqueror, or as a thief. You arrived as a warrior capable of riding a dragon.”