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Dream of Legends fie-2

Page 87

by Stephen Zimmer


  His heart started racing, as he felt the tension rippling through the dragon’s body. He had a good idea of what was about to happen, and did not want to think about it at all.

  The Elder’s body rocked backward, just before its rear legs propelled its massive bulk forward in a strong leap, springing the great dragon far from the edge that Wulfstan had so carefully, and timidly, looked over just a short while before. There was a gliding sensation for a couple of moments, before a brief, sharp dip, as the creature’s vast wings stretched out and seized on the air. The sound of the dragon’s wings beating through the air, stirring up a tempest in their own right, filled Wulfstan’s ears. He felt his stomach grow queasy with the unpleasant sensations coming over him, and felt that it would not be much longer before he began to retch.

  As if in reflex, he clutched tightly onto the neck of the Himmeros, which was now lying by his side. As Wulfstan’s hands grabbed fistfuls of its fur, Spirit Wing whined and fidgeted in the darkness of the dragon’s hold. Wulfstan trembled in fear as the dragon’s body alternately rose and fell, doing his best to endure as the creature worked to attain a level of equilibrium in its flight.

  Gradually, the sharp fluctuations of motion steadied significantly, as the dragon settled down into a rhythmic trajectory. Wulfstan was grateful for both the darkness of the talon-enclosure, and for the imminent presence of the sky steed. He could take some succor from Spirit Wing’s company, while not being faced outright with the altitude that they were being carried at.

  He rested his head against the Himmeros, making himself as comfortable as he possibly could, given the circumstances. The sky steed’s coarse fur lay against his right cheek, and the musky scent of it filled his nostrils.

  Wulfstan’s stomach continued churning a little, although the nausea did not advance into an overwhelming degree of sickness. He felt his heart leap, to varying degrees, as the dragon continued bobbing in its flight. Sometimes he felt a sudden, sharp drop, and at other times he felt the dragon abruptly rising up, or sliding quickly to one side or the other, buoyed by the shifting, sudden winds, powerful enough to affect a body as immense as the Elder’s. A cold sweat eventually broke out on Wulfstan’s forehead, and a clammy feeling encompassed him, as he struggled to steel his nerves to the unpredictable lurches.

  After what seemed like an eternity of being buffeted about, there was an extended period where Wulfstan felt the dragon’s wings pumping more furiously. With what little experience he had gained in flying, he recognized the sensation as coming from a steady climb in height. When the dragon leveled out its flight once again, their progress went much smoother than before. As squeamish as Wulfstan was feeling, it was a very welcome development.

  As high as they had been on the floating white mass, where Bevriadak dwelled, Wulfstan could not believe that they had not yet run into the upper firmament; the lofty place where the stars were said to be positioned in the night. The explanation was probably just a simple matter, in that his judgement of spatial distance was rendered ineffective by the unblemished smoothness of the upper firmament. Perhaps there was a much greater distance to it than he had initially fathomed.

  Even so, he knew that they were flying at an altitude that was far, far beyond anything that could be reached by a living creature of the world below. The comprehension of that sobering notion evoked his gratitude once more, over the fact that he and the Himmeros were being conveyed in a state of complete darkness. He was certain that his nerves and mind would not be able to handle the view currently spread out beneath the dragon’s claws.

  It took him well over an hour to wrestle his anxieties down to a point where he stopped worrying about every slight shift in turbulence. The makeshift carriage created by Bevriedak’s closed claw was rough to endure for an extended journey, but Wulfstan was not about to complain.

  After a short while, he noted the dragon climbing up a little higher. He then closed his eyes, resting his weight fully against the Himmeros’ body. The sky steed was now breathing easily, evidently having come to acceptable terms with the manner of their travel. Wulfstan was not nearly as relaxed as the steed, as he still felt tightness in his gut, and a skip in his heartbeat with pronounced movements of the dragon, but he found himself slowly acclimating.

  Though Wulfstan had little way of knowing what time it was outside, or even how much distance they had covered, he knew that he had no major concerns to contend with. For all intents and purposes, it was a miracle that he had even reached Bevriedak. Lightning had struck twice in the same place, as Wulfstan had been successful in securing the dragon’s cooperation.

  It still seemed unbelievable that he was going to Midragard in the willing company of an Elder, a living legend out of story and song. But this was not another instance of his recurring dreams.

  A dream of legends had guided him to a tremendous reality, breathing and living, soaring through the uppermost skies of Ave.

  Wulfstan would soon be able to reach out for help, to come to the aid of his beleaguered homeland, just as his wildest hopes had aspired to do. Against all probability, a chance still existed. It had grown much stronger since the moment that Wulfstan had decided to risk everything, and take to the skies on the back of a Himmeros, holding fast to a dream and trusting his instincts. Already he had achieved a tremendous success, as the great wings of an Elder had lifted him above the impossible, and were carrying him ever closer to the possible.

  FB2 document info

  Document ID: fbd-4d1003-4779-7748-2588-58a0-f737-dc19b1

  Document version: 1

  Document creation date: 17.04.2011

  Created using: Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software

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