The Netheron Chronicles, Joseph Black [e book reader for pc .TXT] 📗

head.
Fear gripped Tauren, his grandfather had trained in the use of weapons for half of his life, why wasn’t he doing something; this was his chance to prove himself to the Arrels . . . and Edrin, the people in his life to whom proving himself was most important.
But his legs where frozen to the ground, and as he struggled with himself he was forced to watch the hopeless fight before him unfold.
Edrin stood before the dragon, his axe in one hand, his sword in the other, slamming them both into the gigantic creature as fast and hard as he could, his long grey hair flying about his face, his old eyes sparkling with a light that Tauren had never seen before, but nothing seemed to happen, the weapons simply deflected off of its thick scales. . .
Then something went wrong, a glitch in Edrins dodging, a change in the dragons rhythm; but all of a sudden, before anyone had time to react, the dragons tail whistled out of the darkness and slammed into the old man, sending him flying fifty feet before he slammed into the side of a burning house.
“.NOOOOOOOOOOO!” Tauren cried, finally jerking himself out of his trance and charging forward; the sword readied, his eyes blazing with anger.
The dragon seemed to lose interest in Marlan when he saw Tauren charging for him, and flicking the lieutenant to one side, turned to face him, its intelligent face now wary, its eyes hungry.
Now Tauren saw something he hadn’t noticed earlier, rising behind the dragon, huge and black, blotting out the stars above, where two gigantic wings; it could fly.
With a single bound, aided by its wings, the huge beast leapt over the ground between them, batting any Arrels who got in the way, out of the way.
The instant it landed in front of him; its tail came whistling in from the side, whooshing over the grass, bristling with spikes, and flattening anything in the way as though it weren’t there.
Tauren did the only thing he could; without a thought he leaped straight up, as high as he could, releasing the sword for a downward swing underneath him, hoping to catch the dragons’ tail with the two weapons combined speed and power.
The sword caught flesh and the dragon wailed in pain for the first time now. Tauren landed easily, wind buffeting him from the dragons wings, his previous anger overtaken by a bit of care, the years of training he had now kicking in.
Fire flew now, lighting the night for miles, twisting toward him. But time seemed to slow down for Tauren, and he simply jumped forward under the dragons head slamming the sword into its foreleg with every ounce of force he had as he did so.
The blade sunk in only a few inches, but the flames stopped abruptly, replaced by another wail of pain.
Just them he heard a resounding series of metallic crashes, and war cries, and knew that the Arrels where lending their hand from behind, he yelped and leaped to the side, almost flattened by a forepaw. You can’t let anything distract you in a fight, his grandfather had told him, if you do, you die.
Tauren didn’t waste a second, gripping the wire wrapped hilt of the sword, he slammed upwards as hard as he could, forcing himself upward with his legs, and sinking the sword a foot and a half into the dragons chest, right at the base of its ribs.
That should do it, he thought to himself grimly.
The creature wailed, the sound echoing into the night, but this time it was a weak wail. It tried to take off, but it didn’t have the start it needed, and it tottered on its short legs, its wings flapping feebly.
Tauren turned and ran now, knowing that he had finally given a killing stroke, just in time too; for, with a slow crash, the dragon fell on its side, shaking the earth.
He stopped, turning to look back, the dragons massive eye blinked slowly, the anger in them slowly dying and being replaced by a look he didn’t understand . . . fear? Sorrow? Pity? He didn’t know.
And then, with a final shuddering breath, it closed its eyes for the last time, and there was silence once again in the meadow; but for the crackling of the flames.
Edrin!
Tauren turned and ran for the dark shape by the side of the house. He dropped to his knees, tossing the sword onto the charred grass, and looked down at his grandfather.
It took him only a glance to know that the old man didn’t have much time; fear gripped him, true fear; fear of living in a world without the guiding hand of the most eminent personage of his short life.
His chest was crushed from the side, his legs where bent at angles that made him sure they were both broken, he took a deep breath, taking in the knowledge, quelling his fear, and choking down a sob.
“. Tauren,” A weak voice sighed, and he glanced down at Edrin, and saw, to his amazement that the old man’s brown eyes where open, fixed intently on his face.
“. Grandpa” He cried.” You’re alive.” He felt hope surge back into him, maybe all wasn’t lost yet.
But the old man’s next words cut the thought off.” I don’t have much time left.” He held out a weak hand, a hand that grasped a small leather bag, a simple thing that Tauren had seen hanging at his belt for . . . for as long as he could remember.” I’ve carried this for 70 years.” He sighed weakly. “And now, at my death, I pass it on, to you; Tauren Netharu.”
Tauren shook his head, tears forming in his eyes now.” You’re not going to die.”
Edrins eyes searched weakly for Taurens.” Tauren, you’ve been my best friend, my companion, and my grandson, for all of your life. Now do me a favor.” His eyes softened.” Let me go.”
Tauren was speechless, and the old man continued.” In this is to be the answer to all of our problems.” He glanced over Taurens shoulder, and Tauren noticed that the Arrels where standing around them, watching respectfully, the old man’s eyes caught Marlans, and he nodded solemnly to him.” Take it to Lord Jaden Clasheron of Arreland; he’ll know what to do.”
Suddenly, with a surge of strength, the dying man dropped the leather bag and grasping Tauren by his shirt pulled himself forward, and whispered, in one last final effort.” Don’t, trust, anyone!”
And then Edrin Netharu fell back, and closed his eyes for the last time.
Tears fell shamelessly from Taurens cheeks as he stood; he looked around the former meadow, now burning, scarred, and disfigured by the body of the huge, dead dragon. Slowly he reached down and picked up the leather bag, it was light, and felt empty; slowly he opened it and looked inside. There was nothing in it.
Angrily he stuffed it into his pocket and turned to the Arrels.
Marlan nodded to him slowly and sadly, his own clothing covered in blood, mostly his own, and his sword hanging limply by his side, covered in blood as well. The others looked no better. Then slowly he grasped his sword, and drew it, raising it over his head and cried into the night.” All hail, Edrin Netharu.”
The other Arrels raised their swords in salute as well, echoing the cry, Tauren reached down and picked up the sword he had dropped and did too.
Tauren turned back to the body one more time, and just as he was about to turn away, he froze. It was glowing with a blue aura, seeming to sparkle and shine, he turned to Marlan, who was looking at it grimly, and was about to ask what was going on when there was a flash of blinding blue light behind him and when he turned back to the body, there was nothing there, not even a shred of clothing.
Almost as one the Arrels bowed solemnly, and Tauren followed their example, though not knowing why.
“.What was that?” He asked, turning to Marlan in amazement as he stood his voice choking.
Marlan nodded to his men, and they dispersed into the clearing, beginning to clean up the mess and tend to their wounds.” That was the Protector honoring your grandfather with us.”
“. The Protector?” Tauren asked, not understanding.
Marlan didn’t answer; he stepped forward and clasped Taurens hands, looking him intently in the eyes, his own searching in Taurens.” Tauren, I don’t know what your grandfather just gave you, but I suspect something. You need to leave Carmenton, now. Do whatever he told you too. But never return to this spot.” He looked almost nervously into the starless, smoky night sky, his black eyes glinting.
“. What?.” Tauren asked incredulous, tears in his eyes.” I have questions, I can’t leave now. What are you going to do? What just happened?” He gestured to the spot where his grandfather had lain only a minute before.” What was that?” He gestured to the hulking dead body of the dragon.
Marlan was silent for a moment, looking solemn, but respectful.” That was a Durwing, a Halavarde war dragon. I’ve fought them before on Arreland. I killed one with my bare hands when I was hardly any older than you. As to me; I’m staying here with my men, the people must be protected, if one Durwing can make it by, then worse things can too. I’ll do what I can to help you, but it won’t be much I’m afraid.”
Tauren felt confused by the speed of events, his grandfather had given him an empty leather bag and told him to go to a whole other land and give it to their king, one of the people he trusted most in the world was telling him to leave immediately and that he wouldn’t be able to do much to help him on a journey that would take months . . . if not years to make. . .
Then something popped into his mind.” You killed one of these with your bare hands?” He asked, incredulous, certain he had heard wrong.
But Marlan simply nodded.
Tauren shook his head.” Please, explain things to me.” He cried into the night, tears streaming down his face, grief and hopelessness gripping him.” My grandfather disappears in a flash of light. You talk about a Protector that I’ve never even heard of. We, me and you, are so different from everyone else, stronger, faster . . . You say you killed something with your bare hands that you almost lost twenty – five men trying to take down a moment ago. . .”