The Redwoods Rise and Fall

by Ross Turner

  Its size and strength obviously paling in comparison to the colossal creature now restraining it, the black dragon struggled desperately as it was slowly dragged up from the floor. Huge rushing winds gushed in through the ravine in the ceiling as the creature above flapped its enormous wings, and dragged Vivian’s attacker out the way it had come.

  In its panic, blinded by fear, the black dragon lashed out at Vivian with its long, flicking tail, knocking her feeble frame aside with ease, sending her sprawling painfully to the ground.

  Weak and dizzied and dazed, she didn’t have chance to prevent or evade what happened next.

  In a final desperate attempt to seize its prize, the black dragon lunged forwards, beating its wings for momentum with a cry of pain as the claws around its body sunk yet even deeper. But its efforts weren’t wasted, and it wrapped its talons around the wounded Vivian, scooping her up from the ground and slicing its claws into her as it did so, drawing fresh blood and prompting a terrified scream.

  The sounds of her cries reached the scaly ears of the great red dragon above: the beast that had come to her aid.

  Upon hearing her distressed screams the red dragon’s heart quickened, and he feared for Vivian’s life, having of course no way of knowing that the black dragon had her within its talons.

  A powerful beat of his wings sent him soaring upwards, dragging the black dragon flailing along up with him, and in turn also dragging Vivian up and out of Featherstone Keep, and high away into the now midday sky.

  Vivian slipped in and out of consciousness, losing torrents of blood now, the thick droplets coursed down her arms and legs and trickled between her fingers, before dropping away below her and cascading down towards the ground so far away, lost amidst the red ocean of treetops below them.

  Her stomach churned and Vivian caught brief, fleeting images of Featherstone Keep and the battle still raging within its grounds, as she was whirled and spun through the thin, cold air.

  Thankfully though, even in the brief glimpses and glances that she did manage to catch, it seemed that her plan had worked, and the united might of the Redwoods and all of its inhabitants had overwhelmed the darkness and evil of the Greystone plague. Only a bare few still remained, for it seemed that eventually, against all odds, with the right guidance and direction, good had at last won out over evil.

  One that did still remain however, barely clinging to life, still clutched the young Featherstone in its grasp.

  Even now though, she could feel the great black dragon’s grip on her loosening, as death hurried to claim it. Its great claws sliced through her body, like a hot knife through butter, scratching and raking at her bones and her insides, spurting fresh blood and new pain with every passing second. Until finally, after what felt like a lifetime, there was no more blood to be had, and no more pain to be felt.

  The more its grip loosened, the further she sunk through its claws, and the deeper they cut through her, slicing her open with ease.

  Craning her head and twisting urgently this way and that, Vivian tried desperately to look up and get the red dragon’s attention.

  But it was of no use.

  The great red monster that had rescued her finally drained the life from the plague infected black dragon: its wounds far too great to carry on.

  Then it happened.

  The beast’s head dropped, the last of the Greystone’s evil finally falling beneath the combined might of the Redwoods, and, in turn, its grip failed completely.

  There was a brief second of fresh pain again as the tips of the monster’s claws caught on Vivian’s ribs, and then she was free falling, plummeting down towards the ground, with nothing between her and certain death, far, far below.

  Those moments, seconds, minutes, however long Vivian fell for, she had no idea, passed by in a blur. Her eyes flitted open and closed as she passed in and out of consciousness, catching brief glimpses of the deep blue sky and the vast seas of red, and even occasionally her Keep.

  Flailing wildly, she couldn’t feel her arms or her legs as she spun and tumbled and plummeted, either through shock or loss of blood, or both.

  Eventually, midway through her fall, Vivian passed out completely, her body beaten and battered, and simply unable to take any more punishment.

  Everything went black.

  She didn’t see the colossal red dragon drop his prize and tuck himself into a plummeting dive, dashing desperately after Vivian, panic in his eyes as their saviour plummeted to her death.

  23

  When Vivian awoke, her first thought was that surely she was dead, for there was not a sound to be heard all around.

  She had dropped from the black dragon’s grasp, passed out, hit the ground, and died.

  That would undoubtedly have been the most simple, and indeed easiest option: to never have to wake up again.

  The thought was blissful.

  Unable to move, or even muster the strength to open her eyes, Vivian just lay there and listened.

  Nothing. Not a sound, not even a breath to be heard.

  Surely this must be it. She was dead. It was all over.

  But it was not to be.

  Yet again, somehow, she had cheated certain death, even though, not for the first time, she had welcomed it so freely, and with such open arms.

  Finally cracking her eyes open, mustering all the strength she could find, she saw the sky above was dark, a very deep and rich blue, dotted with a million stars. It was as if someone had laid out a sheet of rich velvet and stretched it across the great expanses above her, spatting it with glitter in the process.

  The moonlit and endless dark of night had finally descended upon her, only this time it would stay with her forever.

  All around her sat the animals of the forest that she had summoned to battle: to defend their homes. They were silent, blood stained, and some badly injured from the struggle. Nonetheless though, they watched and waited patiently, all eyes on their saviour.

  Amongst those creatures, naturally, was the colossal red dragon that had saved Vivian’s life, or at least attempted to with every fibre of its being.

  The beast was much larger than the black dragon had been, with a longer neck and snout, flushed red scales, thick forearms, and very broad shoulders.

  Folded onto its back were its enormous wings, which clearly had seen much use, and were ripped and torn in places.

  Even from that single glance, Vivian could somehow tell that this creature was much older and more powerful than the black dragon had been; regardless of its size, this was a monster that had seen many, many moons, and clearly more than a few of those moons had been stained red.

  “Vivian…” The colossal beast spoke then, uttering that single word as if countless years, decades and millennia had all hung upon it.

  His voice was ancient, but not worn, instead embedded with a great and grave wisdom, gained only through endless difficulty and acceptance.

  The dragon’s scaly lips and mouth moved in a way that seemed impossible, forming each syllable and sound with its reptilian snout in a manner that was most unnerving, much like the great red bears had always done. Hot upon Vivian’s cold, drained body, the beast’s breath warmed her to her very core.

  Renewed somewhat simply by the sound of his voice, Vivian forced her useless limbs into action, dragging her heavy, ruined body to sit up, propping her weight as best she could on her wounded arms, turning to face the dragon directly.

  “Are they all dead?” Vivian asked first, though the words were heavy in her heart and she grimaced at the sound, and even as she heard them leave her lips they stung at her. She had never wanted to harm anything of the mysterious Redwood Forest, but sadly she had been left no choice.

  It had been the only way to save the woodlands.

  Victory, it seems, like sacrifice, even if meant for good, is always double-edged, and often causes the most pain.

  “Yes, Vivian.” The great dragon replied, speaking softly in his rich, deep voice, sensing her tor
ment and anguish. “I’m afraid so.”

  Vivian looked at the colossal beast inquisitively then, seeing that what he had just done pained him just as much as it did her, if not even more.

  “What’s your name?” She asked of him then, and the great dragon locked his eyes onto her for a moment, taking a deep breath, instinctively knowing what her next question would be, and bracing himself for the harsh truth he would have to deliver.

  “Orion.” He replied simply. “My name is Orion.”

  “And what about the bla…” Vivian began, but Orion cut her off before she had time to finish.

  “Euan.” He said, his voice brimming uncontrollably with sorrow. “His name was Euan. He was my son.”

  Hit then by a vast, fresh surge of guilt, Vivian’s breath was stolen from her, and her body seemed to seize, locking her within her own torment. It may not have been directly her fault, for she hadn’t created the plague in the first place, but it certainly had been her doing that had pitted father against son.

  How many innocent families had she ripped apart?

  She dared not imagine.

  The thought was unbearable.

  A mournful silence followed then for a moment or two, for Orion looked lost in thought, swallowed by his memories, and Vivian was drowning in guilt, unable to live with herself. The decisions she’d made had driven her to this terrible place in her life, and no longer could she live with herself.

  She couldn’t stand it for another second.

  Orion seemed to sense her decision and awoke from his wandering thoughts, casting his gaze yet again back over the young Featherstone he had sworn so unfalteringly to protect, even to the point of taking his own son’s life.

  He glanced over Vivian’s body. It was in absolute tatters, and his examination drew her gaze too, and she looked herself over.

  Her leg and arm and shoulder were still clearly ruined, though she had patched them back together enough to keep them in one piece. Her back was peppered along its full length with shards of stone and glass, which dug deeper and twisted further every time she moved. The scars that had knocked her spine still bled in horizontal streaks, and finally, as if that wasn’t enough, her entire torso and the tops of her thighs had been sliced to shreds by Euan’s claws, as he had desperately clung to her in his dying moments.

  It was safe to say that young Vivian was in a sorry state. Her wounds no longer bled, for she had no more blood to lose, and the pain had almost entirely subsided, replaced by an empty numbness that she was growing evermore familiar with.

  “The only thing keeping you alive is your power.” Orion explained then.

  Vivian remembered the sword through her ribs long ago, and how her body had simply continued doing as she instructed, even though it had been beyond saving, supposedly.

  She still bore the scars as a reminder.

  She nodded slowly in agreement. It was certainly not the first time she’d been beyond repair.

  Glancing all around her briefly, Vivian scanned what she could see of the courtyard that bordered the Keep. The battle had clearly been hard fought, and she didn’t like what she saw, for both sides had suffered terribly.

  “I can’t sense them any more…” She said then, almost as if she was thinking aloud.

  “The plague?” Orion questioned.

  “Yes.” Vivian replied, nodding her head in response. “It’s gone.”

  “That it is.” The great dragon agreed. “I’ve been watching them ever since you killed the Grey.” He began to explain. “Trying to kill them, or at least keep them in check.”

  “What happened?” Vivian asked.

  “They hid themselves away from you. They knew you would surely come after them, and their power was no match for yours. But they’ve been biding their time. I tried, but their numbers grew too fast…” Orion explained, but this time Vivian cut him off.

  “No.” She interjected, shaking her head slowly. Orion had misunderstood her meaning. “What happened to Euan?”

  The enormous dragon sighed deeply, exhaling his sorrow all too obviously on his warm breath.

  “Euan had once been a part of the Redwoods.” He began. “Just as all those others infected by the Greystone’s plague had too.”

  Orion thought for a moment, looking around at his fellow creatures sat listening to the words he spoke.

  “Euan was young, and brave, but foolish. He believed he could stop the plague from spreading. He didn’t know the extent of its reach.”

  Orion sighed deeply, but continued nonetheless.

  “Eventually, the more he fought those that were already infected by it, the more he succumbed to it. Finally, after a few years, he was so full of hate and twisted longing to kill you that he simply couldn’t hide away any longer.”

  The great red dragon’s words were heavy like lead, and they weighed down on Vivian and Orion terribly.

  “But just as all the others once were…” Orion continued. “Euan had once been a part of the Redwoods, and so, when you summoned us, myself included, for you have so much power, we had no choice but to obey.”

  Vivian nodded slowly, understanding what Orion was saying, but unable to speak on it.

  He inhaled deeply, sorrow filling his enormous lungs, and pressed on.

  “And so now, because of your bravery, the Redwood Forest is finally safe once again.” He concluded, bowing his head in acknowledgement to Vivian.

  But this time Vivian found her tongue in an instant, and scorned at the great dragon’s words.

  “Bravery?” She scoffed. “I’ve shown no bravery today.”

  “Yes, Vivian, you have.” Orion said then, his tone growing somehow even more serious. “I have seen none braver. Not even your great ancestor, William Featherstone, who changed the blood of the forests and of the animals, had the courage that you possess.

  Vivian realised then that she was only the second Featherstone that Orion had ever revealed himself to, and that this was truly the most momentous of occasions.

  “Thank you Orion.” Vivian replied, her gratitude genuine. But her words were followed by a deep and weary sigh. “But I am so very sorry.”

  “Sorry?” The great dragon questioned, confused.

  “Yes.” Vivian admitted, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry that you’ll never have the chance to meet another Featherstone. I’m sorry that there will never again be another descendant of my family. I’m sorry for all the harm I’ve caused.” Tears welled in Vivian’s eyes as she spoke now. “I never meant for anything but good to come of what I’ve done.”

  “Your power is weakened, Vivian, but it is vast!” Orion exclaimed. “I can feel it! You need only heal your injuries!”

  But Vivian only shook her head.

  “There isn’t enough power in the whole world to heal the wounds I’ve suffered.” She said then, her voice ominous. “They have been so great and so numerous that I’ve numbed myself from them, and from everything else.”

  Orion looked on, helpless in his dreadful realisation of what Vivian was saying.

  “I don’t want numbness any more, Orion.” Vivian continued. “All that I feel besides that is the lust to kill, and that’s more painful than any wound I could possibly suffer.”

  And then, as if to emphasise her point, Vivian looked down at her ravaged body, barely held together by thin shreds of skin.

  “I’ve learned that from experience.”

  “But the Redwoods need you Vivian! Virtus needs you! The Redwoods Empire has always needed the Featherstones!”

  Vivian just shook her head in disagreement.

  “The Featherstones were only ever needed to balance out the Greystone’s evil.” Vivian explained to Orion, somehow gaining an understanding of such a complicated thing in the simplest of terms. “The people of Virtus saved themselves, and now they’re thriving with purpose. The Greystones are gone: they don’t need me anymore.”

  “But what about the Redwoods!?” Orion immediately asked, but again he was met only wi
th disappointment.

  “I summoned the creatures of the Redwoods…” Vivian continued. “But they fought the battle. You fought the battle!!” She exclaimed, her voice rising and falling dramatically.

  As Vivian spoke she looked around again at all the creatures still surrounding her, looking on imploringly. They bore the scars of battle, but held their heads high with the pride of victory, their freedom now won.

  Even Orion bled from his clash with Euan, for his powerful back legs shimmered with fresh blood oozing from puncture wounds where son had struggled and fought against father.

  “And you’ve all succeeded!!” She suddenly revelled then. “You’ve won! And now you’re free and safe to live in the knowledge of your victory!”

  “But Vivian…” Orion attempted one last time, but he was silenced by Vivian’s raised hand.

  “The Greystones, and anything that remained of their evil, is gone now.” She concluded ominously. “I’m no longer needed. The Featherstones are no longer needed. There is no more evil for us to fight. Our purpose is fulfilled.”

  At first there was only silence, bellowing without a sound at Vivian’s prophetic words. It rippled through the ranks gathered all around like an invisible shockwave, stirring them all, but at the same time immobilising them.

  Orion didn’t reply at first, and his fellow kin all around looked on imploringly.

  He had lived long enough however, known enough enemies, fought enough battles, and learned enough lessons, to know that Vivian’s mind was set, and that, in fact, considering everything, probably more than he would ever know, she was right.

  Vivian clambered slowly to her feet, willing her ruined body into motion once again. It obeyed her commands robotically, entirely ignorant of the fact that without her power urging it on, it simply would not be able to function.