He was just about to turn back into the cottage when he heard them; screeching, tearing screams coming from the direction of the bonfire.
He froze, uncertain of what he had just heard, but the street continued to echo with the pained cries.
Suddenly the door behind him slammed open and the Arrels rushed out, swords in hand, closely followed by Edrin, who was brandishing a woodcutting axe.
The Arrels acted so quickly it was as though the whole thing was a rehearsed act; without a sound they flipped their swords to a ready position and spreading out into the shadows of the street, and sped toward the sound, heading off into different side streets so as to come in on the sound from different directions.
Edrin nodded to Tauren.” Go. Get up to the fort. Get the garrison down here.”
Tauren stared at him stupidly.
Edrin headed down the side street that Marlan had taken, turning back to Tauren once.” Go!” He yelled, and disappeared into the shadows.
It took the last yell to break through the feeling of . . . empty fear, that had covered Tauren, and he responded to it by instantly sprinting for the fort towering on the hilltop ahead. Something was wrong; this was his chance, his chance to prove himself.
By calling the soldiers from the fort down to the problem?
It sounded lame, but he knew that it had to be done, he quickly had an image flash through his mind; his grandfather slipping a long, straight bladed sword under the seat of the cart, and he instantly knew where his next destination after alerting the soldiers would be. But why did he feel afraid, what was his training for if he felt so fearful. His heart beat rapidly, thumping in his chest, as he ran, trying not to pay attention to the fear welling up inside him.
But there was no alerting to do; even as he approached the fort he saw the gate swing open on oiled hinges, and a dozen heavily armored Arrels pour out, their armor gleaming in the light of the torches they carried, their red and white cloaks flapping behind them as they ran.
They didn’t even pay any attention to Tauren as he ran toward them, and simply went crashing in a dense formation for the side of the town that glowed with the light of the bonfire and still echoed with the screams.
Tauren rushed by them, into the fort, and into the stables, reaching frantically under the seat of the cart for the sword he had seen earlier. He froze, not sure what to do, he could stay here, he would be safe, he could let the others take care of the problem. No, he told himself, he was better than that. He instantly felt the cold handle of the sword, and whipping it out, turned and rushed back out of the gates, running as hard as he could for the glow and screams.
As he got closer; rushing by the buildings and screaming townspeople running frantically away from the meadow; through the dark shadows of the streets, getting closer by the second to the screams and fire, he began to hear the deep battle cries of the Arrels, and the sound of steel on steel: true terror gripped him, terror that made his knees feel as though they were about to buckle, and his mind screamed at him to run away.
If you fail now, you’ll never succeed, he yelled at himself, and pressed on, forcing himself to run faster, closing his eyes and trying to think of anything that might rid him of this mind – numbing fear that coursed through him.
He was in the former meadow almost before he knew it, and what he saw almost made him lose his resolve. He jerked to a stop and stared: the bonfire seemed to have exploded leaving a blackened smoking crater fifty feet across, the white tents that had been erected for the merry festival where now burning husks, and a dozen houses bordering the meadow already had flames flickering among their boards.
But that wasn’t what scared him; scattered around the field where dozens, if not hundreds, of dark shapes that took him a moment to recognize as bodies, bodies of dead townspeople, and there, in the middle of them was the most fearsome creature he had ever seen.
He had run into a bear in the woods once, it had simply passed him by, not bothering him, but he had caught a glimpse of its three inch fangs and huge claws protruding from its massive feet, it was a creature built to kill.
But this creature was different; he had spoken to his grandfather of the mysterious, terrifying creatures that inhabited Arreland and Halavarde, and, he heard, Netheron as well. And unless he was severely mistaken this was one of them: this was a dragon.
A massive tail, at least forty feet long, trailed down the hillside by the meadow, bristling with spikes; four thick, short legs protruded from its massive green scaled body, each tipped with massive the massive curved talons of a bird of prey; but it’s head was even more fearsome, almost majestic.
Adjoining its huge, thick, spiked neck; frilled with a bony crest; and covered in thick scales of such a dark green they seemed black in the dim, flickering, light. But worst of all where it’s eyes, they were sky blue cats’ eyes, eyes with an intelligence that one would expect on nothing other than a human, but eyes so filled with a lust to kill they struck fear into even the bravest hearts.
Then of course was the fact that it was trying to kill everything in sight, that wasn’t encouraging.
The Arrels had spread out and where charging in at lightning fast speeds, slamming their swords practically uselessly against its thick scales whenever they could, but the dragon was faster than was physically possible for something its size.
Even as he watched it almost snapped Marlan in two as he leaped away from it after having slamming it in the shoulder with his sword, he leaped nimbly out of the way, his eyes flickering in the light, making him look mad himself.
Then he leaped forward, faster than sight could follow, and slammed his sword against a foreleg.
Tauren instantly knew that this fight wasn’t going well, he already saw that three of the Arrels where missing from the group that was attacking the dragon, and it only took him a moment to see their bodies lying a few yards away from the it, mauled, lying in widening pools of blood that was staining the grass and soil red.
In the end chances where, that sheer numbers and drawn out hacking would take it down . . . but that would take time, there might be more of the beasts in the area, and they definitely couldn’t take down two of these things.
The Arrels had always loomed large in Taurens life, he looked up to them in awe, they were his role models for life, and any creature that could kill three of them and pose a deadly threat to 25 others . . .
He saw Edrin spin out of the shadows, swinging the old woodcutting axe and a short sword with an experts speed and skill.
Tauren felt he wouldn’t be needed, this wasn’t his time, and he lowered the sword, content to watch the fight from a safe distance, content to let this particular fight pass him by.
But it was not to be, the dragon roared all of a sudden, the sound echoing into the surrounding forest; and rearing backwards spewed a column of writhing green tinged flame straight at a group of the Arrels, a heat waved blasted into him and Tauren thought they were done for, for sure, but fast as the fire moved, the Arrels where faster, and with surprising ease they sidestepped it and moved in to attack again.
Taking his chance, Marlan leaped in and with a cry swung his long sword full force for the base of the creatures’ neck, but he had forgotten one important factor; its forepaw slammed forward, pinning him to the charred grass and sending his sword flying from his grasp.
Two of the Arrels closest to him ran forward to help him, but the creature roared and its tail swept across the field, knocking half a dozen of them over, and out of reach of their commander.
It raised its head, roaring in triumph. It reached forward to snap Marlan in two, but a moment before it sunk its glistening white fangs into his helpless body a dark form sped forward from behind a burning tent a few yards away, and with a cry slammed an old woodcutting into the side of its 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. . .” He gestured futilely into the darkness.
Marlan listened silently, and then he reached forward and grasped Taurens shoulders and shook him softly, his eyes glinting with a soft burning anger.” I’m sorry Tauren. I’d tell you, I would! But this is your quest, you have to find out anything you want to know on your own. Anything about your parents, your grandfather, your quest, or about you. You must write your own fate; this is one spot where I’m not allowed to interfere. Let it suffice for me to say . . . the world isn’t what it seems.” He reached down and took Taurens hand, his voice softening.” I’m sorry. Go to the fort, get a horse, and leave. Don’t look back.”
The man that Tauren had known for most his life turned his back to him, leaving in his clenched hand a small pouch of gold. Tauren stared after him as he walked away, confused, with no idea what to do. The grief was gone, replaced by emptiness and a bit of anger.
Something his grandfather had told him years before flashed across his mind, if you feel unsure of what to do, simply act, simply do something and then let it flow.
With a gulp he turned, picked up the sword he had dropped, and then began running for the fort, not looking back, and glad he didn’t; he didn’t want Marlan or any of his former friends to see the tears in his eyes.
Okay, I'm promising to not make any comments on grammar, or else I feel you'll begin to hate me. 
But I did notice it was a little better. That being said, I have only one bit of feedback. 
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