FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Sunset.

It had always been his favourite part of the day. A sunset could turn even the darkest day into something wonderful for him. Orange and red, pink and purple, sometimes even blue and green, all mixed into an extravagant painting in the sky until the floating orb that gave life and warmth to the world disappeared into its tomb below the horizon once more. The sunset could change the icy wasteland in which he lived into one of the deserts he had been told lay in the southern lands. White and grey transformed by the golden rays into a paradise of colour. He was often afraid that the sun would not come back up to begin its arc above the world in the morning, and equally often dreamed that, if he tried hard enough, he could reach that fiery ball floating in celestial space. Such were the aspirations of a young hatchling.

Zaros the hatchling. Named partially after his father, Zara, the young ice dragon sat alone in the tundra he could have once called home. The dragon's black scales were uncommon enough in ice dragons, most tending to have white, grey or blue scales, but the purple plates that ran along his chest and belly were almost never seen. While black scales were found from time to time on the glacial dragons, purple scales were only associated with dragons that used what the elders in his clan called magikk. Zaros did not understand what this magikk was, only that it was extremely dangerous. Even so, he did not expect to meet any magikkal dragons any time soon, having lived in the icy northern lands for all of his short, twenty year life, while those that practised magikk dwelt in the swampy marshes to the west.

Being a keen learner, Zaros had learned a lot in his short time. He had already been taught the art of healing, how to hunt effectively, how to make use of his natural agility, and how to govern over a clan, should he ever form his own in the future. He had had to make use of his knowledge over the previous weeks, as the pleasant life that the dragon had lived had all but ended.

~-~

It had been a late night of celebration in the dragons' main gathering grounds. The liquor that had been stolen, traded or bargained for almost literally flowed in rivers as the dragons gave the clan's newest couple their congratulations. Zaros was forced to stay in his parents' cave, being told that the party would be "no place for hatchlings", as his parents had put it. He couldn't help but feel left out as the other dragons drank themselves into a stupor, but he eventually fell into a deep slumber despite his frustration. It was not until he heard the cries that he woke up again.

A band of would-be heroes, in reality no more than dragonslayers, had attacked the clan in the dead of night, immediately attacking the first dragon that lay in their path, its underside swollen as if gravid. The roars of pain from the young female were the only things that had woken the other dragons up as her belly and flanks were slashed and split with sword and war-axe alike, almost certainly destroying the eggs that lay inside her as she was slowly killed. Even though the humans were outnumbered slightly by the much larger dragons, it was difficult for the clan to launch a counter attack, since most of the dragons were either drunk or hung over. As soon as the first dragon fell, two more hit the ground with crossbow bolts embedded in their necks, their life pouring from the massive wounds. The other dragons managed to make some sort of defence, killing two of the warriors, both of which had been the first to attack the dead female. In the mêlée, however, three of the defending males had suffered large gashes across their snouts, chests and legs, soaking their scales and the snow that lay on the ground below them.

Zaros woke up to the sound of the fighting in the valley below the cave he shared with his parents, the dragon swivelling his head in fear as he realized that the two dragons he had been raised by were not with him. He gasped as he looked down from the heights, noticing three large bodies in the snow, the red snow around them lit by the torches held by the attacking humans. Suddenly, two dragons leapt up from the fight towards his cave, the young drake soon recognizing them as his parents. His father was relatively unharmed despite the violence below them, but his mother had gashes over her body, one hindleg bent in a strange angle from where a spear had been thrust through flesh and thick scales.

The young dragon squeezed his eyes shut as he was picked up by his mother's forelegs, suddenly feeling helpless as he was carried away from the slaughter. He could hear his mother's heart racing against him, feel her muscles work as she beat her wings. After a moment, Zaros opened his eyes slowly, and immediately regretted the decision. No sooner than he had opened his eyes, the hatchling watched as his father, who had been flying in front of the small group, was struck in the chest with a bolt. The steel did not bury itself deep, but it was enough to set the dragon off balance for a second. Zaros let his muzzle form into a silent scream as his father was hit again, this time in on his wing joints, and again, directly under the large male's chin.

Young hatchling and mother alike watched in horrified dismay as Zara fell from the sky, blood flying from the wounds in his body as the dragon tumbled through the air, landing on the sharp rocks below with a sickening crunch. His mother whispered soothing words into his ear as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to blank out the image of his father's death. Even then, he could feel the remarkably cool blood of his mother run over his scales, yet he did not understand the seriousness of the injuries she had suffered. To him, she was his only saviour, the young dragon barely able to hold himself up on his own wings, never mind fly long distances in panic. To him, nothing was more important than getting out of the mountains alive.

~-~

After what had felt like hours, yet had only been several minutes in reality, Zaros' mother slowly began to tire, her life escaping her as crimson ran down her icy white scales. Flying as low to the ground as she could manage, the dragoness tried to land safely, but quickly realised that she was moving far too quickly, especially with a badly injured and possibly broken leg. Tilting her body to the side to protect the hatchling she was carrying, she slammed into the cold earth with a thud, the thick snow only slightly softening the impact as she heard, and certainly felt, bones snapping like twigs inside her body. She let out a fierce howl of pain, looking down at her body to see that some of her flesh had been entirely ripped away by a bone, the shards of which stuck out of her body like splintered wood.

Letting go of her child, she clawed at the ground as she watched the whiteness around her slowly change to a deep red, knowing that her time had come to an end. She had never believed in any other life, but suddenly she found herself wishing that it was the case, wishing that she could see her mate once again. She knew that the humans that lived in the foothills of the mountain she called home mostly believed in some sort of afterlife, and often wondered why they wished to live in this world to begin with, if they thought there was a much better life after they died. She had even thought that they would welcome death, seeing as humans tried so hard to kill off her kind. Now, however, she wished that she had their beliefs, the dragoness breathing heavily as her blood pooled below her, soaking into the snow on which she lay.

Looking down at Zaros, who stood in front of her with wide, terrified eyes, the young dragon not knowing what was happening to his mother, the dragoness let out a soft whimper as she realized that she would never see him again. Shuddering almost violently, she opened her mouth to speak to her hatchling with no more than a soft whisper.

"G... go, Zaros... I'll... be all right, just go on... try to reach the... plains south of here... I'll catch up with you..." Suddenly, shouting could be heard from behind one of the hills that they had found themselves between, the dragoness knowing that it would not be long before the humans arrived. "Go, my love... go!"

Zaros darted away in an instant, the young male seemingly oblivious to the sound of the approaching humans. His scales blended into the darkening night and he was soon out of sight, though the sound of his paws crunching through the snow could still be heard. The dragoness let out a deep breath as she watched her son vanish into what she had hoped was safety, knowing that the humans would not take long in arriving to where she had hit the ground.

A few minutes after she had let the hatchling go, the female began to notice points of light coming over one of the nearby hills, the voices floating on the air before them signalling to her that the dragonslayers had found her, not that there was much slaying to be done with her. The dragoness tried to lift her head to look at the approaching humans, but found that pain and weakness made it impossible to move. She let out a mournful roar, the sad sound quickly trailing off into nothing more than a soft whine. At the sound, the lights rushed towards her faster than before, the sound of crunching snow returning to her soon enough, but from the opposite direction to which Zaros had went.

Out of the darkness, six men appeared, only two of which carried torches, while there were still at least ten more flames dancing in the night, the dragoness finally realizing the sheer number of men that had attacked her clan. Five of the six were dressed in chain mail, the steel rings glittering in the light of the torches they held, while they held bloody swords in their free hands, the crimson that had stained the blades no doubt from the dragons she had called family. One of the soldiers held a cracked horn in one hand, white scales clinging onto the thick base, while blood had trailed over the entire length. The sixth soldier, standing in the middle of the group, had been clad in plate armour, a dragon head engraved into the plate that covered his chest. In his hands, he held a massive two-handed axe, the large blade of which seemed to glow a bright orange from the light of the torches. It was also surprising clean, as if he had waited to use it until he found her.

Two of the attacker ran forward to seize the dragoness' hindlegs, pulling them apart with a fierce scream for the defenceless female. One of the other soldiers approached and thrust a torch at her to see better, the flames licking at the scales around her nethers as she let out a loud hiss. The man called back to what must have been his commander, from the formal "Sir, it's a female!". The soldier in the steel plate came forward, hefting his axe over a shoulder as he walked. The whimpering dragoness looked up at him defiantly, knowing that she would die, be it by his hands or nature. She let out a soft snarl, before speaking softly to the commander of the dragonslayers.

"Why? We have done you no harm... so, why do you hunt us so? Pleasure? Pride? What?"

Instead of replying to her questions, the man simply stood before her, a sneer on his lips as he gripped his large war axe tightly with his hands. The dragoness' eyes went wide as she watched the sharp blade swing down towards her neck, letting out a loud grunt as the steel hit her scales, before her vision went black, the female's life slipping from her grasp.

~-~

The young dragon felt tears well in his eyes as he focused his attention on the glowing ball of light that slowly fell through the sky, knowing that he could not linger where he was for much longer. While his mother had insisted that she would meet up with him soon, the hatchling could not mistake the sounds that he had heard as he ran through the previous night. He had heard a desperate cry and a deep roar, the young male knowing enough to know that it was his mother's death that he had heard. He knew that he could not go back to help her; he doubted that whatever had killed his mother would spare him simply because he was a hatchling. He was helpless, with only his mother's advice to go into the southern plains to help him.

The dragon broke into a run as tears began to run down his cheeks, his paws connecting with the thin layer of snow with a dull crunch as he ran. The hatchling had made a lot of ground through the previous day, having already reached the foothills of the mountains in which he had lived. He had made sure to avoid any human settlements, but had almost found himself being spotted a number of times as he had ran into a mounted patrol. Slowly, throughout his journey, the snow began to thin and grass became more abundant, the hilly terrain beautiful in the early spring. Nearer to the human dwellings, however, the sky and landscape was greyer than the surrounding countryside, partially blackened by the seeds of industry that had taken root in the towns and cities. Smoke from countless cook fires rose into the air, while large towers pumped soot from the furnaces and forges that lay beneath them.

The young drake sniffed as he tried to stop himself from breaking down into tears once more, having already collapsed on the hard ground before to simply cry. He had to make it into the plains soon, as he knew that there were other dragons there, though he was not sure of what they were like, or whether they would take him in as one of them. He could only hope that they would, as he was not likely to find any great love from the humans that lived in the towns around him. He would be lucky if he wasn't simply killed for being what he was.

Shifting his wings slightly, the hatchling began to head, once again, towards the flatlands beyond the hills. It would not be long until he reached them, he could tell, the young dragon having made so much ground that he could see the plains whenever he topped one of the rolling hills. If he was to live, however, he would need to keep to the shadows through the night, his onyx scales not being very useful if they reflected the light of the moon. He did not know whether the humans set patrols during the night, but he knew that he should expect the worst, so he planned to keep to the shadows as much as possible.

As dusk slowly drew in and the day grey darker, the young male began to walk along the valleys between the hills instead of heading straight towards the plains, the lower ground giving him more shelter from the bright moonlight. In the dark, he could see flickering lights in this distance, no doubt campfires of men or the torches of guardsmen. He kept away from the lights as much as possible, but throughout his journey, he found himself getting quite close to them, enough to smell the horses on which the guards were mounted. Whenever he thought the guards may have spotted him, he stood perfectly still for a moment before backing away, each time the dragon finding that he was in the clear.

When the drake finally found himself too tired to continue his relentless pace, he looked around to find a place to lay down, deciding upon a large bush in the shadow of a steep hill. He slowly eased himself under the branches and leaves, hissing slightly as a few branches dug into his scales. Though the young dragon was exhausted from an entire day of running, he found himself restless for a while from thoughts of what had happened the night before, and worries of what could happen in the days to come. Even so, he soon found himself drifting off, and after a short while drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

~-~

Over the days after he had fled from the oncoming dragonslayers, the going was tough but not eventful. Each day, Zaros walked from dusk until dawn as he gradually left the hills behind and went out into the vast plains. They were lands that the humans had not yet found a use for, other than an occasional fishing settlement near one of the many lakes that dotted the flowing landscape. He had not met very many creatures either, and those he had met were soon his prey, the dragon making sure that he fed himself quite well. It was tough, but he found it easier when he reminded himself that he would find, eventually, other dragons out in the plains, though he was not sure of where he would find them.

Despite his confidence, Zaros had yet to find any sign that there were others living in these plains. He had not seen any dragons, either close or in the horizon. He had not seen any caves that may have been lived in. He did not even see any sign of animals that had been killed by a dragon. After three days in the plains, the young male's hopes began to falter, having not seen any sign of life that whole day. Suddenly, he heard the beating of wings above him, and looked up to see the sight that he had been hoping for, and one that he had feared at the same time.

A dragon.