FictionPress.com - let the words flow| FictionPress.com - let the words flow |
| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
AN: This story began in 2003 as a collaboration between a friend and I. It was abandoned and never published but I’ve dusted it off and started writing again by myself. He wrote the first chapter, but subsequent chapters are by me. Also note that the formatting for stories on here hates me, which is why this top part is squashed together rather than having some spaces. Hopefully the lines will help.
Orin
The silver dragon went into a nosedive pulling up just above ground level, clipping a knight and tearing him in half with his armor covered wing. Orin jumped from the back of his dragon, falling into a somersault then springing up and drawing his sword. A large man with a battle-axe charged at him screaming. Orin grinned and spun his sword, running at the man. When they came within reaching distance the man swung at Orin’s head with the axe, only to be impaled when Orin ducked and thrust his sword upward.
Pulling it back out he turned to face another man with a sword. The man swung it at him and Orin blocked it with his own sword. Then spinning towards the man he swung and sliced through his waist, thus cutting him in half. Blood spattered up the left side of Orin’s face as he did this, also covering what shown of his white shirt under the dragon scale vest he wore. Then hearing a great roar he looked over to see his silver dragon Serion fall from the air with a spear through his chest.
“Noooooo,” Orin screamed fighting his way through the adversaries in front of him to get to the dragon. Finally, blood soaked and with a slash down his right arm, he made it to where his fallen comrade lay. “Serion!!!” he screamed as he ran toward the silver. “ Serion!!!” he called again. Upon reaching him a tear ran down his face, for he knew is friend, brother, dragon, was dead. “No, Serion, no…” Orin stuttered collapsing on top of the dragon. “ No,” he moaned over and over again fighting the urge to break down and cry. Then he heard a voice.
“What is the matter traitor, your little lizard croak on you did he?” Orin stiffened at these words. “No great loss,” said the voice.
Then Orin felt anger, anger like none he had ever felt before, no pain, and no remorse, just anger. Anger at the whole human race, his own race. How monstrous they could be; they had started this war, and they would suffer for every dragon killed for their selfish fears. Every dragon rider that fell fighting for what was right, even if it meant turning on his or her own race. He would enforce this, or die trying.
Jumping up in rage Orin picked up a discarded sword for his left hand and walked toward the man standing there, the one that had spoken the cruel words against him and his friend.
“Oh going to slay me now, for your dead friend there, well I say try it, and I hope his retched soul suffers in the nether realm for eternity.”
Orin let out a scream of rage as he started running at the man, infuriated to the brink of combustion he ran at him. The man held up his sword readying himself for Orin’s attack. Clash, upon reaching him Orin had swung his sword so hard both swords shattered. The man looked totally horrified. Then he turned around and ran, he ran for his life, as he now knew the fury he had unleashed. Orin stood watching him run for a moment before hurling his sword at the man, watching as it hit him blade first and sliced through cleanly.
Orin spun around to face the next person running at him. Shooting his leg out he kicked the man in the stomach. As the man bent down Orin slammed upward with his knee hitting the man in the face with it. The man fell and Orin picked up the sword and thrust it into its owner’s stomach. From that point on Orin killed with out mercy, slaughtering anyone that came across his path. At one point a hand fell on his shoulder. Spinning around he spun his sword ready to kill the hand’s owner, only to find that is was Wendrith, a female dragon rider who led the nearby dragon rider compound, Jaden Hold.
“Orin?” she asked, “Oh Orin, you look horrible.” Orin wiped the blood from his eyes and looked at her. “ Orin you have to get out of here, you need medical attention, where is Serion?” Slowly looking away he dropped his sword. Wendrith realized what must have happened and closed her eyes momentarily. “I’m sorry Orin, but you must get out of here, we need you.”
“And I need Serion, makes no difference does it,” he replied.
“Orin, I am sorry about Serion but you are the Wingleader over this third of the riding core, you must come back with me, and besides the battle here is almost over. There is nothing more for you here.”
Closing his eyes slowly he nodded and then followed her as she walked over to a couple of dragons, one white, one sky blue. “This is Krugie,” Wendrith said pointing to the sky blue one.
Hello, Krugie said. Orin nodded his hello, starting to get himself back under control.
“Krugie, I need you to fly him back to the compound and make sure he gets to the medical facility, he is known for attempting his own recoveries,” Wendrith said, as Orin walked to the blue and climbed up onto her back and into the saddle.
Ready? Krugie asked.
“ Yes,” Orin replied. Swoosh; she took off into the night sky. The air felt so good to Orin, as it blew through his blood matted spiked silver hair, and on his pale blood soaked face. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew they were back at the base camp landing in the training field, and then that he was being taken by a very pretty woman into the hospital wing. There he was given a sedative and slipped into unconsciousness.
