The Dragons of the Mountain, Chapter 2: The Clash
Now the story is going to get to the heart of the matter! Hope you enjoy!
As usual, i'd like to thank :iconHildale: for his help: this time he took care of the whole translation, allowing me to dedicate myself entirely to the writing!
(If you notice any comprehension problem due to translation mistakes, please let me know; I will fix it! ;-)
The Dragons of the Mountain
CHAPTER 2 - The Clash
Not a long time after, the group flew over a rocky valley scattered with hills, woods and moors. The mountainside rimmed it for a half, forming a sort of natural barrier rich in clefts, caverns and caves: inside those shelters the Moonfang had built their dwellings. Other stone constructions were scattered all around, like the one the chief lived in. There was also a large, grossly-paved square where they used to meet periodically to discuss common decisions. Many dragons of all ages filled up that place: most of them were females, because males were busy elsewhere in that moment of the day.
The four landed on the square's threshold.
"Go find Xavor" ordered Hazarkan immediately, with curt tone.
They didn't take long to find their chief. Xavor was a burly middle-aged dragon, whose only sign of his age was the opaque, grey nuance on his cobalt blue hide. He had some scars on his arms and chest, proving all the battles he had fought. As a rule, their chief was elected after the predecessor's death on the basis of the valor proved, not so much by inheritance. Xavor had a name for being elected when he was very young, just slightly older than Blizzard. Unlike Hazarkan, Xavor believed in honor: defeat opponents without killing them, so that they could keep the memory of the battle alive.
The chief listened carefully to Hazarkan's report, with his arms crossed.
"They won't get away with this. What they've done to us is unforgivable, and their accusation is insane. Go spread this news: tomorrow, we'll fly to the river and repel the Fieryclaw!" he decided with his resounding voice, made hoarse by his teeth jutting out from his jaw.
"At your orders" assented the battle master.
"How did the boy behave?" asked Xavor then, pointing at Blizzard with his chin. The young dragon's tail began to oscillate slightly rubbing on the ground, as a sign of tension. Like Hazarkan, Xavor was not a person to be trifled with as regards discipline.
Blizzard and the master looked in each other's eyes for an instant. "I'm satisfied. He sometimes tends to divert his attention, but I'm sure he'll be careful when it's time to get serious" was Hazarkan's minimalist answer. Blizzard suspected that Hazarkan's unusual kindness had to do with the understanding he demonstrated before, when they were still by the canyon. Maybe he hoped to motivate him.
"Tomorrow, you'll keep an eye on him and make sure he won't be in danger. I have a feeling that he will become a strong fighter, besides... there's someone who needs him" added Xavor.
Hazarkan hesitated, but finally he answered: "Definitely".
"Thank you, chief" felt duty bound to murmur Blizzard.
"You don't have to thank me, boy" he replied, calm but without showing sentimentalisms. "Go now".
They separated, each one in a different direction, to warn everyone about the following day which was preannounced. Blizzard flew towards the mountain, in a peripheral area where trees were thicker; there, hidden by an enormous natural monolith emerging from the ground, was the entry of his cavern.
When he was in front of the familiar semidarkness of his shelter he heard a rustle coming from the interior, then a youthful female voice said: "Who's here? If you're Nyort, please go away. I've already told you that..."
"That's me, Eileen" answered Blizzard.
"Oh, thank goodness... I couldn't have endured him any longer" added the voice relieved, then a dragoness came out from the semidarkness. She was fifteen-year-old teenager of short height, but with a very nice body. Her cerulean hide was so smooth that it appeared velvety, and her dorsal crest and horns were smaller that Blizzard's. Like all the females, the color difference between back and chest was negligible, and her profile was rather sinuous. Her hips were narrow, a feature that males found very attractive.
"I thought you'd have took longer to come back. Does it mean that everything went as anticipated?" asked Eileen while they entered their dwelling.
He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, Hazarkan isn't the funniest company to travel with, but after all it wasn't a pleasure trip. But you, why did you think I was Nyort?"
"Isn't that obvious?" she said with a half-smile. "He's been harassing me for most of the morning, knowing that you weren't here. He's getting so insistent... I've told him again that there's nothing doing, that I won't change my mind, and to get out of the way".
"If he returns while I'm not here, tell him that I'll smash his snout as soon as I see him" said Blizzard rough-and-ready.
Eileen giggled. "I hope this is enough to convince him to leave me in peace. And he isn't the only one..."
"Don't worry. I'm with you" concluded Blizzard, caressing her head.
His sister was everything of his family he had left: she was only seven years old when their parents disappeared, therefore her memories of them were a lot vaguer. The two had been attended by others until Blizzard had grown enough and he decided to take care of Eileen personally. He was extremely protective towards her, especially lately: her rare beauty had already started to kindle the insistent interest of many older males, but Blizzard kept repeating obstinate that she was still too young. However, she wasn't lacking in character strenght: incredibly acute and stubborn, she was capable of persuading most of her interlocutors, including her brother. She was intelligent and beautiful, a dangerous combination.
The two brothers have always got along very well, in spite of their rather different personalities: he was quiet and dreamer, she was headstrong and enterprising. Blizzard couldn't imagine how Eileen would have been within a few years. Or maybe he didn't want to.
The dragon set down on a wooden bench. That place, sober but reassuring, was lit up by some braziers inside some niches on the rocky walls, emanating an orange glow.
That brief moment of happiness ended very soon. "I have to go out again. There's not much time, and Xavor has assigned another task to me" he murmured.
"There will be a battle at the river tomorrow, won't it? And you'll be there too" said Eileen with atonic voice, stopping in front of him.
"Yes. It's obvious that our chief wouldn't have accepted this matter. I'll do my part, as is only right; it's time for me to show my valor" answered Blizzard looking in her eyes.
"Something doesn't quite fit, however" she added. "For instance, this matter of the Fieryclaw who come out after years with a clearly absurd accusation. Haven't anybody ever thought about it? Are they all too busy sharpening their claws to find this situation suspicious?"
"So it seems..."
"Maybe it's a bait, hence a trap. We didn't want anything but an opportunity to pick a quarrel with them again and we took the bait! And I have to stay quiet here, hoping that you'll be fine, without being able to do anything to help you" she protested, shaking her head.
Blizzard stood up and came near her. He knew her well enough to understand her feelings immediately, even though she was expert at concealing them: she was angry, but also very scared.
"I'll be careful" he assured her, leaning his hands on her thin shoulders. "Or don't you have faith in my abilities? If this can make you feel better, there will be somebody keeping an eye on me" he said ironically, smiling at her. He tried to sound light-hearted and self-confident, but it was clear that his words didn't convince her.
"Stupid!" whispered Eileen, turning her head sideways. "I'd do anything to find a solution. Maybe, if somebody had thought about this before, our father and our mother would have been still here".
Blizzard tightened slightly his hold on her shoulders. Nobody else in that village had had the family ruined so unexpectedly and seriously, therefore it was understandable that Eileen's opinion were against the current like Blizzard's. However, there were duties they couldn't shirk.
"I'd better go now. I have to warn the others for tomorrow, and I don't want Hazarkan to catch me doing what he calls laze around" he sighed, then he left her to go out again.
"I'm coming with you" she decided immediately. "I'll help you".
"Okay" he accepted willingly.
Toward evening, a moltitude of blue and azure dragons crowded the central square of the village. A cold and monotonous rain made their hide sparkle like precious stones.
With a short speech, chief Xavor encouraged his people. More years than before had passed since the last battle, but that outrage had not to remain unpunished. The strongest elements of the tribe and volunteers would have left the following day at dawn and would have headed toward the canyon. Everybody was enthusiastic.
Blizzard and Eileen stayed under the rain for a bit, while people around them was dispersing through sky and land.
"It seems they like thinking about wounds and swellings" said Eileen, gritting her teeth and gazing at Xavor's back in the distance.
"Who knows, maybe I'll like that too after a real fight" supposed Blizzard. Migorn waved at them, passing in front of them but without stopping. Eileen ignored him: he was one of her suitors as well, but she found him too presumptuous.
"I hope you are sarcastic" she replied, addressing her brother again.
"Not so much" answered Blizzard evasive. "If we conformed with all the others, we would surely have less problems".
"Indeed, it's a pity we can't do that by our command. And I am sarcastic" she grumbled.
The following morning revealed a cold and foggy weather, humid because of the night rain. Blizzard looked out of his cavern while his sister was still sleeping; he perceived something unusual in the air, a peculiar frenzy in the flight of the dragons he saw above him. He breathed in deeply and stood still for some seconds; he couldn't say he passed a serene night, nevertheless he felt strange: it was like his fear had abandoned his mind leaving a positive excitement. Despite his doubts, the opportunity of proving himself seemed more and more inviting.
For a moment he thought of going away without waking Eileen, to do her a favor; but probably she would have got angry, so he went to the bed where she was sleeping and woke her up delicately.
In an instant, she was wide awake. "And so, it's time" she murmured in a low voice.
Blizzard nodded. "Perhaps I won't be away long. I might be back by this evening" he said to comfort her.
"Promise you will return. Run away, if things are looking black for you. To hell with honor and all the rest! I want my brother, not a hero" she exclaimed, then she gave him a big hug.
"I'll be back. I promise" he promised with decisive tone. "I could never leave you alone".
"That's right, you can't. Now I knock it off... My whimpering isn't helpful to you".
"And it's not like you" he smiled at her.
They went to the square without hesitation; Eileen insisted on accompaning him. With Xavor's, Hazarkan's and the other masters' guidance, a squad composed of about fifty dragons was formed. They were especially veterans but also many young people, predominantly males. Many acquaintances of Blizzard greeted him, more or less happily. Those who wouldn't have left were waiting all around, and Eileen had to stay there. There was a continuous background noise of claws rubbing on the ground, of flapping wings, of voices making recommendations. The chief said a few words while the last latecomers were arriving.
Finally, the dragons took off like a single entity, darkening the cloudy sky with their sky-blue silhouettes. Blizzard, while gaining altitude, turned back and saw Eileen looking at him. The only way he had to keep his promise was to do his duty.
After having left the inhabited valley they flew over the dark pinewoods surrounding the mountain, heading towards the irregular mountainous landscape. The fog made the visibility poor, but it would have got better as soon as the sun was higher in the sky.
The Moonfang didn't talk each other during the trip, if not to exchange a few words. Blizzard was asking himself what circumstances they would have met the Fieryclaw in. Would they have succeeded in catching the Fieryclaw unawares? Would some sentries have alarmed their companions? How many opponents were they going to fight with?
The big, muscular Hazarkan came abreast of Blizzard. "You are one of the youngest here, boy. This is not necessarily a disadvantage, just to be clear. Follow out my orders and you'll manage to come out unharmed" he said.
Blizzard remembered Xavor's order. "I won't hamper you, master" he replied.
"I know it" concluded Hazarkan.
The young dragon remembered that place well: he passed through it just the day before. He recognized the ridge of sharp rocks where there was a natural twisted path, plunged into mist.
"They are not the type to let themselves get caught unprepared; like us, after all. Especially now that they know they have to expect an attack" explained Hazarkan.
The canyon's outline appeared in front of them, initially merged into the hills; Xavor ordered to land by the boundary.
They settled everywhere, like a migratory swarm looking for rest from the exhaustion of the journey. Blizzard landed on a log jutting over the river and startled.
A moltitude of well visible Fieryclaw were lurking on the other side of the river, scattered. It was difficult to estimate their amount, because others were appearing continuously to swell the ranks: they had probably been alerted not long before.
"Finally, after all these years" Blizzard heard Hazarkan whispering. "I started being afraid that I was weakening". Some companions next to him murmured approving.
Blizzard saw the Fieryclaw hastening to position themselves strategically. He would have done anything in order to be able to speak peacefully with one of them... but it was impossible, and after the battle had begun, even just trying to would have been unthinkable.
"So, let's not waste any more time! Attack!" shouted Xavor. The order was passed on quickly, and the dragons went down in the canyon; the Fieryclaw did the same immediately.
While he was nose-diving, Blizzard thought back to the countless exercises Hazarkan had subjected him to during the years. His master was certainly not one who went easy on his apprentices, and when he trained Blizzard with other young dragons he demanded that they acted exactly as against a real opponent: Blizzard sometimes came out of those trainings badly. But now that iron discipline would have come in handy.
Being in a such numerous group made him feel strange: all his inhibitions were easing and his senses were strenghtening, allowing him to focus only on his target. It was a heady feeling, which dominated him.
The vanguards clashed and started to do battle furiously mid-air. They tried to overbalance their opponents with claws, fangs, punches, kicks and tail hits, in a total pandemonium.
"Don't isolate yourselves from the others!" shouted someone near Blizzard. He was certainly not very strong, but he had agility on his side: a hand-to-hand combat with a Fieryclaw could put him at a disadvantage, but he could confuse the opponents making the job for his allies easier.
He dashed towards a orange-colored dragon below him. It was the first time he saw them so closely: they had stripes of darker color on their arms and legs, their horns were slightly shorter but thicker and black, their snouts were less tapered and more rounded; however, the most evident feature was that they had no dorsal crests between their horns, but a ruffled mane of hair covering their head and spine up to the joint of their wings. Their ears were different as well: they were not like crests, but of flesh and pointed. Blizzard, who was used to his own kind since always, found the Fieryclaw odd. And those circumstances were absolutely not ideal for personal considerations.
Blizzard dodged a punch thrown by that dragon and hit him at his nape with his tail while overtaking him.
"Bring it on!" grunted that one, wrathful, turning towards Blizzard. He attacked again, this time just missing Blizzard's hip. Blizzard ventured to counter-attack and managed to deal him a hard blow at the middle of his chest, overbalancing him.
They kept on doing so for awhile; Blizzard's higher speed made his opponent furious, but on the other hand he had already received a couple of rather painful punches. They were getting closer to the rock face; the young dragon, in an attempt to avoid a close-range fight, was about to have his back to the wall.
"You can't run away forever, kid!" said the Fieryclaw furious. Blizzard thought what to do quickly, when suddenly a very fast figure appeared behind the enemy and struck him hard on his head. Unconscious, the red dragon fell a considerable height and crashed to one of the many jutting rocks of the canyon.
"Not bad, boy" commented Hazarkan smugly. He looked at the immobile dragon below them. "He's surely not dead. I'd remedy, but Xavor ordered to kill only if necessary. He thinks this will make them willing to cooperate... pathetic, in my opinion" he added scornful. "However, let's not fool around. Avoid hand-to-hand fights if you're not sure you can manage on your own, act with someone else and everything will be easier" he said before leaving again.
"At least this is a good start" thought Blizzard, then he went giving support to his allies. Notwithstanding defeated fighters were equivalent from both factions, nobody was going to give up. Soon the bulk of the battle moved to the ground, especially by the shadowy vicinity of the river, which probably were flooded when the river overflowed the banks. Blizzard joined forces with one of his slightly older companions, who was strong but lacking in speed, and they defeated two opponents with little difficulty, sending them on the ground unconscious.
There were several incapacitated dragons on the ground. Many of them showed bleeding wounds, others were senseless or moving weakly. Blizzard noticed that it would have been easy for anyone to give them the coup de grace, but all fighters were ignoring them: clearly they had been ordered to spare the losers' lives too.
"Who knows, perhaps when everyone will have got exhausted they will decide to try through diplomatic channels. I hope I'll extend to seeing that" he said to himself, landing near the river along with his ally where the fight was going on fiercely. The mist was thin but hindering.
"Look out!" shouted Blizzard's ally alarmed.
All of a sudden, a very hard blow struck Blizzard between his wings, hurling him at a boulder. He felt a sharp pain in one wing, but the damage didn't look invalidating at a first glance. He looked up and saw a burly Fieryclaw towering over him, sneering.
"Kids like you should learn not to interfere on a fight. I'll think about it, no sweat!" he said, then he flew at Blizzard.
The young dragon shifted himself just on time: the Fieryclaw's punch struck the boulder where a second before there was Blizzard's head. He dodged again from seated, still too dazed due to the blow to manage to get up.
"Spare me? This guy is going to pull me to pieces!" thought Blizzard frantically. He watched his companion out of the corner of his eye, who was fighting against another opponent. He couldn't always rely on other people's help; if he wanted to emerge the victor, he would have had to use his wits.
The red dragon's clawed paw grazed his hip. Taking advantage of the moment and ignoring the pain, Blizzard gave a low kick at his opponent's leg, making him lose his balance. That one was about to fall on Blizzard; he slid next to him and dealt him a blow at his neck, making him faint.
"You should be grateful to me" panted Blizzard while a scarlet trickle was dripping down his hip. He tried to move his aching wing: at the very least, he had lost the possibility of flying for long distances for quite a while.
"However, I'm still able to stand up" he thought ironically.
An indefinable lapse of time passed. There were moments during which Blizzard was about to get overwhelmed, alternating with brief truces. Fortunately, Hazarkan came to his aid along with Niktohal, the young coetaneous Blizzard had trained with the day before.
"It seems that only a few fighters are still able to continue" murmured the master at last. Besides some scratches, he looked unharmed. Seeing him fighting with a perfect combination of tecnique, speed and strenght was a captivating experience for Blizzard. Hazarkan had defeated two opponents at once almost without getting touched.
The battle was going to reach a conclusion: there were just some sporadic fights, but the still conscious ones were retiring from the battlefield.
Hazarkan addressed Blizzard: "Go take a look upriver, boy. Do you feel up to it? I have to find Xavor, I believe he wants to have a chat with the chief of this scum... Do you want Niktohal to come with you?"
"Ahem..." hesitated Blizzard, looking at the person concerned sidelong. "If he agrees" he suggested. He hoped Niktohal refused, so that maybe Hazarkan would have assigned that task to someone else. Blizzard would have liked to attend the dialogue between the two chiefs, he would have been able to learn lots of things about the Fieryclaw. But he had to show himself willing.
"Of course I agree" answered Niktohal impatiently; he was bleeding from beneath one eye and from one ear, but he looked he wasn't paying attention to that.
The master thought it over. "All right, then. If you meet someone of ours, tell them to head to the valley. But if you notice something suspicious, even the most insignificant danger, I want you to come back immediately. As always, don't do anything on your own initiative. Did I make myself clear?"
The two young dragons nodded and set off. Niktohal wanted to avoid flying because he had some bruises on his wings as well, so they walked along the foggy bank of the river.
Nobody was in those parts and that place was quiet, except for the continuous rumble of the water. An ancient landslide from the rock face limited the passage; the whole canyon was becoming narrow in that zone, while the high slopes were casting gloomy shadows.
"It looks deserted" commented Niktohal, stopping to look around. There were several alcoves, recesses and cracks in the rock, and mounds of boulders which constituted potential hiding places.
"Disappointed?" replied Blizzard.
"A bit. Although you are the master's pet, I didn't expect him to assign you the easiest tasks necessarily".
His tone annoyed Blizzard. "What are you talking about? If this is what you think, so you've understood absolutely nothing" he grumbled. It was clear that Niktohal, who had an impulsive disposition and was still engrossed in the battle, wasn't completely lucid. Maybe he had hoped for more fights to show his ability.
"And then, what the hell are you trying to insinuate? I'm not Hazarkan's pet more than you are" he clarified.
"You say so" answered back Niktohal. "I've seen how he looks at you... and how he addresses you".
"Tell me, have you received a blow at your head? Let's check around here, instead" cut short Blizzard before the discussion could degenerate pointlessly. Hazarkan had no preferences, he was just giving proof - even if against every expectation - of his sensitivity towards the familiar situation of others. Was that so difficult to understand?
"We have already seen that there's nobody here. Let's come back, we can do something more useful" said Niktohal sulky, without moving.
Blizzard looked at him. "Go, then. I don't leave jobs half done" he said with resolute tone.
"I don't need to be told twice. See you later" concluded Niktohal simply. He retraced his steps and disappeared behind the landslide.
"What a fool" grumbled Blizzard, shaking his head; in any case, how Hazarkan would have reacted was none of his business.
He proceeded alone alongside the river a little longer, and after having verified the absence of both allies and enemies he decided to come back.
He didn't notice immediately that the fog, at first thin, was getting thicker; the visibility was getting poorer and poorer and the atmosphere more muffled.
"This damned fog isn't of help" thought the young dragon, focusing on keeping his calm and walking quickly. The battle was over, and he would have rejoined his companions within a few minutes. What was the problem?
A draconic silhouette came out of the fog ahead. For an istant Blizzard thought it was Niktohal, but he had to change his mind when he discerned the light red color of his hide, which shaded off into orange on his broad chest.
The Fieryclaw stopped in front of Blizzard, cutting across his path. He couldn't avoid him even by flying, because his damaged wing wouldn't have stood a pursuit. A few steps were separating them.
Blizzard peered at him and noticed that he was way bigger than him, but probably not much older: two, at the most three years older. His mane of hair was the color of mahogany wood; although it was dirty with dust and blood, it was longer than those Blizzard had seen before and some wisps were falling on his forehead and temples, through his black horns. He had a sparkling colorless earring at his right ear; he wore two black leather bangles above his biceps and a necklace of coarse string with a fang-shaped pendant at his neck. Like everyone, he had several reddish scratches and wounds.
"Fancy that!" he commenced with a powerful and low-pitched voice, better suited to an adult. "I wasn't sure it was worth venturing in this vicinity, but it seems I was wrong. I hope you are a worthy opponent!"
Blizzard was dumbfounded. "Didn't you... didn't you see anybody while coming here?" he asked with hesitant voice.
That one took a steep forward. "Nobody. Did you expect someone to come to your help?" he jeered at him.
Blizzard's mind was working frantically. How could it be possible that he hadn't met Niktohal? They were on the same bank of the river, and Niktohal had asserted he was unable to fly!
"The battle is over" he attempted. "We must come back to our outposts, there's no reason to keep fighting".
The red dragon's expression hardened. "You're wrong. In my opinion, there is a reason to keep fighting until there is at least one opponent standing! Or maybe you are a coward?"
"Not at all" replied Blizzard resigning. If his interlocutor didn't seem to be willing to think correctly, the solution was always the same. And if he had got the worst of it, he hoped he would have succeded in dealing him enough damage to make him remember that fight worthily.
"Excellent. Show me what you can do!" said the Fieryclaw satisfied; he bent his knees, preparing to attack.
Blizzard assumed a cautious pose, intended to predict the movements of his opponent and responding consequently. Few seconds later, however, something distracted him. And indefinite profile, confused with the fog, appeared briefly from one of the canyon's many alcoves on the opposite side. Blizzard was unable to identify it clearly, but it seemed that it was making apparently meaningless gestures.
"Who is that guy? What is he doing?" thought Blizzard excited. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted because the red dragon had his back turned on the mysterious figure and couldn't have seen it.
The point where that character was standing suddenly lit up with a blinding red light. Under Blizzard's astonished gaze, rays of light similar to lightning bolts came out from the alcove and rent the air, crackling.
"Hey! Look out!" shouted the young dragon to his opponent; the Fieryclaw turned back, surprised.
The lightning bolts struck the rock everywhere with deafening noise, while the ground started to shake. The rocky structures collapsed causing a rain of stones; deep cracks opened around the two dragons and the river flooded them, swirling.
"We must get away from here!" shouted Blizzard trying to be heard by the other over the noise of the landslides and the rumble of the river's rough water. Huge boulders were falling like meteors. It was as if the whole mountain was shaken from its basis.
The Fieryclaw nodded, but a lightning struck the ground between them and a blinding explosion threw them in the air.
Blizzard fell into the river; the whirling and ice-cold water swept him away. The dragon was so stunned and weakened that he was hardly able to keep his head out of the water. He tried to hold onto something but he was at the end of his tether. He realized that he was about to lose consciousness: he tried to resist but in vain. The waves submerged him, and everything turned black.