WarTorn | Teen Ink

WarTorn

April 4, 2012
By MrPuffin BRONZE, Park City, Utah
MrPuffin BRONZE, Park City, Utah
3 articles 0 photos 35 comments

Favorite Quote:
&ldquo;Write to be understood, speak to be heard, read to grow...&rdquo;<br /> (By LCP)<br /> <br /> &quot;Promise me you&#039;ll always remember: You are braver then you believe, stronger then you seem, and smarter then you think.&quot;<br /> (Christiphor Robin to Pooh)


Prologue


I ran far and fast. Away from the bandits pursuing me. Through the busy, crowded street, I stumbled and almost fell. A merchant got in my face, saying “Vould zou lak to bah som chickens?”

I punched him in the gut and he doubled over, people around him laughing, “So, Omar, since when could a sixteen year old beat ya?”

I continued running, cold sweat streaming into my eyes. I dodged and weaved through the steamy market. I heard bandits panting behind me. One even had the guts to yell, “Hey, girly, slow down so we can steal yer food!”

I started crying as I ran. I was terrified, only being a sixteen year old. Or, at least, I pretended to be. I led them into the forest and knew that my plan was succeeding. Soon, DarkStorm would be able to eat at last. My dragon, DarkStorm, was starting to starve due to my lack of money. However, when I led the Bandits to her, she swiftly had some unsuspecting guests for dinner.
Chapter 1: War


Everything was dark. Not surprising, due to the fact things had been this way since the K’Well Decade. That was when the Dark Riders had taken over. Now, I was forced to fight for my life and for my people.

My name is Lilly. I’m a 16 year old girl, turning 17 this Krymoth. I live in the DRW, and I have a few “friends.” One of these friends is Dean. Dean is about my age, give or take a few months. He had dark hair and eyes, and skin the color of honey. He could be my brother, but my skin is a deep tan. Dean swore he would stand by me in everything I did. He even said that he would fight in the war with me.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Lilly?” He asks me.

I answer, “I’m positive.”

After training for a few months with other volunteers, I feel prepared. My sword, a thin, light, flexible model, is well balanced. Dean’s sword is heavier, stronger, and stiffer. I finger my dagger. Each of us is allowed to bring an additional weapon. Dean chose his cedar and aspen infusion bow from the jungle of Skulls. I chose my dagger. It’s a beautiful, red copper blade. The handle is made from ivory and has swirls of molten dragon scales in the sides. It’s about six inches long, and super light for its size.

The only other resources that we’ll have in the war is each other and our Dragons. Dean and I are part of the SkyLeague. The SkyLeague is the only section of the militia that gets dragons. Our dragons specialize in one of four groups: Speed, Strength, Flexibility, or Stealth. My dragon, DarkStorm, was trained in Flexibility. DarkStorm is s grey-ish blue dragon with long, viper like fangs, fire breathing, and blade-like talons. She’s small for a dragon, only about the size of a limousine. Her wings, though, have a span of fifteen feet and are a brilliant bright blue with green flecks.

I stroke her shiny scales and polish her armor. DarkStorm is my only living family, and I cherish her amazingly. If someone was to hurt her, they would have to go through me first. I carefully attach her WingBlades, which are like huge swords that attach to her wings. After that, I add her claw and teeth guards. They're sharp, golden extensions of her actual appendages.

It’s finally time for battle. The GroundLeague are mostly on foot. Some lucky soldiers are given the privilege to ride on a Drake. A Drake is pretty much a wingless dragon.

The GroundLeague has lances, shields, swords, and even bows as their weapon of choice. After hundreds of GroundLeague soldiers march to the Field of Vines where we’ll be fighting, the Magikalls follow. The Magikalls are mostly griffens and sorcerers. They have only armor, no weapons. The Magikalls each have a power or an element. There are four main elements: Earth, Wind, Water, and Fyre. However, there are many more elements branching off of these four. A mixture between water and wind would be ice. Fire mixed with water would be Shadow. Earth and wind is a SandStorm.

The Magikalls are the main offensive creatures. They have at least 20 dragons without riders circling and protecting them.

“Lilly...” whispers Dean, “Good luck.’’
My eyes tear up and threaten to overflow as my dragon takes me to our assigned position, on the opposite side of the battlefield as Dean. I whisper soothing words of encouragement to my young dragon. She is perched on one of the cliffs by with all the other dragons from our section, but this is her first battle and she’s terrified.







Chapter 2: Torn

“It’s gonna be okay, girl,” I whisper soothingly.
I get a rewarding “Huuuuurrrrrr” in response, but DarkStorm’s still shivering beneath her heavy layer of silver armor. I shift my own armor and remove my helmet. I wonder what our competition will look like. It won’t be long before I find out.

I was still sitting on DarkStorm’s back when I saw a wave of blackness come over the crest of a nearby hill. I was astounded as I heard the trumpet that signals the call-to-arms. DarkStorm is shaking like a leaf, but despite this, my weight, and her own heavy armor, she manages to launch herself into the sky. She soars through the air, on the outer-left corner of the diamond shaped swarm of dragons and their riders.

“DarkStorm,” I whisper into her ear, ‘be careful!’
I hear a screech of pain from my left and see a beautiful scarlet dragon battling with a huge, iron grey dragon.

“It’s an IronBelly!” I scream. “Watch out!”

My dragon veers to the left sharply. Good thing, too. A scythe-like claw just missed DarkStorm as the dying beast lashes out one final time. I see the scarlet dragon, his rider, and the IronBelly plummeting to earth.

“Are you OK?” I ask DarkStorm. I hear a wavering “Gruuuuuuuuuuuunnnnn” from her and know that she’ll be alright.

“Time to go on the offensive,” I whisper to her. She flexes her claws and shows her massive teeth. We fly to the outside of the flock, where grey, black, and white dragons are merging with our multicolored ones. I hear screams and groans from human and dragon alike and I feel DarkStorm stiffen beneath me. She has seem a group of riderless dark dragons teaming up on a single, riderless green one.

“GO!” I scream.
DarkStorm pumps her wings and streams towards the dragons at breathtaking speed. I feel her stiffening her backbone and I see her moving her head into position to headbutt the dark dragons with her golden armor. I hold tightly to my leather saddle and hold out my sword. I hear a screeching, ripping noise as DarkStorm’s head armor collides with the tough scales of one of the dragons. I hear ribs and wing bones crack. The dragon plummets from the air and hits the floor hard. DarkStorm spins in a tight circle, fortified claws and fangs opening bloody gashes in other dragon’s wings. As they all fall, she catches the panicky green dragon by the tail just as he’s knocked unconscious by another dragon’s flailing wing.

We swing him onto a ledge and DarkStorm lands on top of him, shielding him from Fyre and dragons.

Unexpectedly, a huge IronBelly lands on the ledge with us. He must hear the groan of the rock as he lands on it, because a fanged smile shows off more of his mouth then I wish I’ve seen.

DarkStorm crouches atop the green dragon, showing her fangs. I leap off of her and unsheathe my sword.

“Get away from my dragon!” I snarl.

There’s ferocity in my voice that I’ve never heard in myself before. I open a small gash in the IronBelly’s stomach, and he hissed, spitting black, acidic sludge at me. I shield my eyes with my armored forearm, but the sludge burned right through my armor.

I screamed and dropped to the floor, paralyzed in pain. I heard a cry of alarm from DarkStorm, but then I heard nothing but silence. I managed to raise my head in time to see her wing being wrenched from her socket. DarkStorm was now unconscious on top of the green dragon, and I was lying on the rocky cliff, paralyzed. I closed my eyes and held my breath, waiting for death, but all that came was...Dean! He flew in on his huge, strong, violet and green dragon, spearing the IronBelly through the back of the head. Dean took one look at me and jumped off his dragon, sprinting to my side.

“Krypton,” He called to his dragon, “fix DarkStorm’s wing while I help Lilly.

I looked up into Dean’s eyes as he got a long needle from his medical kit. He rubbed the tip of it with a mysterious powder from the kit. As he injected it into my arm, I felt myself slipping away...



Chapter 3: Returning



I awoke in a white, crisp sheeted bed. I blinked drowsily and surveyed my surroundings. Apparently, I was in a hospital of some sort. A hospital right by my home. A glass of clear liquid was on a folding stool next to me. Good. I was parched. I grabbed it. As it slid down my throat, I felt rejuvenated almost instantly. Dean walked up to me and asked me how I was doing. “Fine.” I answered.

Later that day, Dean gave me a ride home on his dragon. DarkStorm’s wing was still too sore to fly on.

When I reached my shack on the edge of the woods, I finally felt truly at home. But home’s not home without a friend to share it with. I chose Dean.


The author's comments:
I originally wrote this short story as an entry in a writing contest. I hope you enjoy it! ;)

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