A young boy rode on a white magnificent horse with his sword hand raised. A tall keen sword he had, his armor thick and daunty. Battle waged around him, his sword dipped in black blood that dropped itself to the ground from the sword tip. Enemies did not dare to come near him. But he could see all was not well. His armies were slowly retreating. They were outnumbered. Horns were blowing, those of retreat. A man beside him lifted a bugle in answer to the horn calls. But, the young boy stopped him.
He let out a savage war cry, tugging at the mane of his horse. Quietly he whispered, "Go, Radarin, fast and without fear." in his horse's ear. The horse neighed loudly, rushing madly into battle. Hearing the aggressive war cry of their lord, the retreating armies flung themselves into battle.
The young boy soon got the admiration. Many enemy necks he hew, many he killed, stabbing them through his sword and the spear. The horse took care that he did not fall. But his men were dying. Slowly, he knew he had lost the battle. But they would have lost anyway, he reasoned. If they had retreated from the field, they would have been defeated anyways.
His eyes were sharp and still hopeful, but then even those fell in despair. He let out a mournful cry, for he sighted a number of huge birds circling in the azure sky. He looked down on the ground that was stained by blood. The men rallied around him, to protect him from the new danger.
The birds wheeled down even as the enemy shouted words of joy. The enemy closed down upon them, they had formed a huge circle around them. The boy knew they were doomed, but they would fight nonetheless, till their last breath, or until their strength waned to oblivion.
The birds did not seem birds when they neared the ground, they had huge talons, fearsome and strong wings and a huge head with a tongue spitting flames of fire.
"Dragons!" exclaimed the young boy.
"Dragons!" shouted the men in despair.
"Dragons!" a boy shouted, as he got up from his little bed. The boy was warily shocked by what he had seen. Despair was written in his face as if what he had seen was already happening.
"Dragons?" said a matron who looked in her late twenties, with a questioning look on her face. "So you saw dragons in your dreams, have you, little one? Now, do not be afraid. Those dragons cannot reach you here."
"Yes, I saw dragons in my dreams. But it never felt like one. I do not know. It was like I was there. A long battle waged around me and I looked on in despair, unable to save my soldiers. I was older than I am now, but it was I who rode that white horse. There were huge birds that came down on us and we were bested in our hearts."
"Now, it won't do you any good remembering those awful dreams. They come once in a while and you have to sustain them. But now, do not trouble yourselves, see, the sun has risen and it is beginning to hold sway over the fair lands. Come on, boy, get up and run along now. Do your regular chores and be down to breakfast. Your father awaits you. It is my little boy's birthday after all." She smiled as she raised the curtains.
The boy smiled gently, the weariness of the dreams had never gone away from the young mind.
"Okay, Miss Augustus, I will be off now. I have a hard day today I guess."
"Oh yes! I guess you are going to go hunting with Genthor in the evening."
"Yes, I am really looking forward to the hunt. I assure you, Miss Augustus. That I am going to hunt down fourteen bears for you."
The matron laughed. "Sure, young Eothan, now run along quick."
As soon as Eothan had left the room, the matron laid down his bed. "This boy shall do great things. Those dreams were not just dreams, they were a vision of some sort. Maybe the time is near, maybe the prophecy will ring true. If it is so, then I must ensure that this boy becomes what he is ordained for."