Young Writers Society

Hikaron, the Obsidian Omen

Bolstering laughter echoed through the dining hall. The smell of hard-working farms-men and slightly rancid pickling salt perked up the nose every time a toast to the success of the day occurred. Nothing warmed this giant's belly like the sweet smile of Tally, the barmaid, though, the cinnamon pastries were a close rival.

Tally, with a quick nudge and a wink, placed a few orders of roast and beets on the table. It was a busy night, no time to talk. He knew that it was better this way. War has no time for lucritivities. A deep whiff of dinner and down the hatch it went, and went, and went. How else was a man of his stature to sustain strength? He was the town's officer. A giant, literally, once captured and tortured, but proved useful in combat.

Hikaron was part of something bigger than just a miserable cavern tribe. Giants are known for two things, killing, and slaving. Once broken, they were obedient for life, but that was a whole other task. Their strength is unrivaled to those of a human or even most supernatural. Luckily their brains were exceptionally lacking. Something inside of him yearned to be a part of something bigger, but how? This was how. Protect everyone.

Moonlight trickled through the old drapery laced with broken seams and insect holes. It brought a calming aura in such a chaotic place. Hikaron's teeth ravaged the last few bites of his meal and signaled for more. Some looked over repulsed, others laughed and cheered him.

Who does he protect them from? Rebels? The throne? Not the throne, the throne gave him meaning, gave him life. How could he ever repay that debt? The constant sieges and interceptions at checkpoints were enough to make anyone fill with irritation. War is tiring, exhausting, yet, a small part of ecstasy. The smell of the enemies' blood splattered across the wasted lands was invigorating. No, that's not Hikaron, that's the monster inside thinking. He is the protector, the savior, an omen to those who dare cross into his path.

Errrrrrk

Tally pulled out the chair across the table and slammed her feet up onto the table like a three-hundred-pound brute. She started picking at the plate in her other hand as if she was disgusted by it somehow. Hikaron rose a brow and motioned for the plate, she obligated and handed it over after picking a strip of the roast.

Her dainty hands made his cheeks blush. The way her apron tightly fastened around her thick waist was almost as appetizing as the meals she prepared.

The area was lush with produce, but the meat wasn't common. Her little inn surrounded by dense wheat fields and long stalks of sugar. The amber sunset would twinkly between, casting oblong shadows through the streets and on the sides of the cottages. The locals were a higher class than most. The royalty of the land had a sweet tooth for baked goods and their trades were perfect for a high fetched bargain. That didn't come without its own issues. High taxes and drought trashed the farmhands and slaves. Water was collected from the rain and stationed wells helped as much as they could, but with the needy crops, the little extra coin collected was gambled away or spent on maintenance.

Tally's mother was the head barmaid and father long passed from illness. Her childhood was filled with the stench of drunk men and abuse. Nothing disgusted her more than their gluttony of flesh, of mammal or women. The town had been not small nor large enough to sustain a large number of whores, but it had its locals. Silta ventured her way through the crowded hearth and slithered her body over the ranks.

She had nothing against her personally. It was hard for her to understand the thinking for a choice of work. A bit of pity always stung her heart when Silta left in the arms. A half-hearted corner smile motioned to her as she passed. 'Aron's plate silently scooted in her direction. The giant's insatiability was always amazing to her. Less repulsive, so to speak, compared to his counterparts. Maybe it was because of the race difference, and sheer size of 'Aron that made his appetite bearable. He made her wallet nice and hefty after a long journey away. She suspects he must live in the area but came home to visit a family or some sort.

A belch echoed the room and then an eruption of cheering and laughter. Hikraon now leaning back to examining the remnants of his latest defeated dish. His stone hardened handed rubbing his enlarged gut, scantily held in by the straps of his leather. The giant's eyes wandered to her small emerald eyes, large, bright and in shock that such a sound could come. Her lips grew into a grin and then her deep, clement laughter joined the other men's encouraging cheers.

It faded quickly and filled with horror, her face draining of color as her eyes became void of anything but pure fear. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her lips trembling, unable to utter a sound.

A gust of wind licked the candlelight and rolled in the reaping of smoke. Chokes and coughs surged through, causing mass panic. High pitched screams and the battering of furniture overwhelmed Tally. It wasn't until 'Aron's sweaty hands clasped her shoulders snug. Brought his face to hers, his eyes, giving commands without words. Everyone rushed out the now flimsy door, busted off the hinges.

More smoke seared their lungs. Tally burying her face in his back, choking and holding on with her nimble hands.

Horses reared at the flames coming closer and closer, unable to escape without their owners unleashing them. Children scrambling to find their parents who had been working in the fields. Tally motioned for them to follow her. She was well known and they clung to her skirt. Hikraon is leading them through the chaos. The outer square of the town was untouched yet from the wreckage.

"Stay, and I will come," his voice bolstered, unafraid. He brushed soot and hair from Tally's grieving face. The handful of children now struggling to breathe, snot dripping from their noses. An older child, pulling their shirt over their mouth, and showing the others to do the same.

"No!" Tally stammered as she pulled back on his jerkin. Their town was lost to the flames. There wasn't enough water with the recent drought to remedy even the minor fires of the stock houses. It was reckless to leave them, she thought. She didn't know what to do, her mind drawing blanks on an outcome.

More tears drizzled down her face, almost persuading him to stay. With one last tossel of her hair and a long wanting look, he was gone.

The thick stone echoing the thunderous sprint, Hikaron pushed his way through the remaining crowd of people. Flames shooting from windows as their wooden hay roofs caved in. Oddly, no one still evacuating from buildings. The deeper his trot into the town, the more horror he ran into. His home was burning. The star-streaked sky now shadowed by the flames of destruction. Shrieks of terror reverberating in the distance.

A putrid smell attacked him, making a full stop to clench his mouth and stomach before retching. It brought him to his knees. The sulfurous smell scalding his nostrils. Crisped bodies dangling from fence lines. It couldn't be. It can't be he thought. Bodies from the casualties of fire don't burn like this. They were pure charcoal, bones visible, crumbling against its own weight. Massed together, as if taken in one swoop.

Obsidian whelplings.

The shrills he was hearing weren't those of humans, but the cries of excited drakes feasting on the havoc. Chunks of mauled limbs dripping from their fangs; blood-splattered and clotting into their scales as they hissed threats at the others. More of them began to slither from the darkness, ignoring the herculean buckled over the body. Veritable things were not known to stagger a giant's might.

The dew of the blood made the crystalline scales glimmer against the coals of ruin that surrounded them. The cobblestone darkened with evil intent. Everything was slow motion, and the earth shook. It shook from the trembles of a giant's fear. Armed with a broadsword and decorative light armor, Hikaron was gambling.

Wiping the sweat from his brow and a deep breath, he picked himself from the ashed street and took his stance. This was his home and he had to protect what little was and would be left of it. The collapsing buildings of sacrifice and sweat earned through laborious work. One by one, shifting into bonfires, clouds of ash hazed the air that had once been sweetened by sugarcane.

The faces of the jollied farmers bringing their wagons stocked with fresh harvest flashed in his mind. Next was the children galloping in the streets, weaving between busy maidens at their stalls, shooing them off.

Clank

Fear took over. The memories of the men trampling each other like animals.

Memories of flames scorching and licking at the night sky.

Tally's empty eyes and a flushed face. The warm sound of her voice, now distant.

Clank

Blurred motion, rumbles of the hulk and whelps tussling in the streets mingled with leather scraps littering the field. No matter how hard he swung his sword, no blow penetrated the obsidian mounds protecting the drakes. Hikaron held the hilt of his sword so tightly his knuckles grew pale and began to almost burst and split.

A familiar streak of pain drug across his back, removing strings of thick fatty meat. They reminded him of the lashings he received when he was first brought to Aurna. The whelps squealing victory cry continued their rampage on his trunk. With every jabbing flux, chunks of silver splintered off his sword, with still no avail to penetrate their armor. One launched to gnaw on his shoulder, while another nipped at his calf. The heathens hacking the remnants of a corpse in their jaws.

The pain sweltered throughout his torso, and desperation filled every inch of his soul. The last thing that could be done was making borrowed time for the others to escape and venture to the neighboring militia outpost to the west.

Unconsciousness must have had him seduced. The darkness was deeper than any night he'd ever experienced on a hunt. Where was he? His mind? There was no sense of feeling as if he no longer had limbs or a body. Unsure if the words he thought were even his own.

He was stuck in a limbo of life and eternal slumber. The light of coals quivering under his eyelids, dancing back and forth, as if being stoked and then smothered out. Back to the pitch darkness and all loss of senses.

Tepid wetness blanketed the gargantuan frame that now lay crippled under the clearing sky. His mind still trapped in its own sanitarium of sounds. Stertorous gurgles from beasts in the distance, or so he thought. Giant's meat must not be savory for them to have left him here on a thread.

A thread of life so thin a spider might have weaved a trap. Almost resembling the stray hairs that stuck to Tally's face after stoking the hearth in the inn, or a stitch fraying under stress in her sleeve. Worn and mistreated from long hours catering to the people of the town. The light flicked to her fiery locks of hair, the ribbons of curls pinned behind each ear with long brass clips. A piercing wail shook the eclipse of oblivion from Hikaron. Eyes taunt wide as he witnessed figures thrashing along the horizon. The images thralled closer and closer, but still dusked by the lowlight. Another squeal spurted, cracking the simple silence surrounding the mania.

Expanding his lungs for a deep breath, Hikaron mustered the numbness of his chassis and pulled himself along the boulevard. Clawing each raised stone to pull himself adjacent to the scene. Stumbling through the darkness, the unrecognizable figure collapsed on him. The small white face that once was, was gone and blackened by the flash flare that left it broiling with a vaporous stench.

                                                                 Tally.

Tears welled in his eyes as pieces of her once thick, lush hair turned black crumbled away; the brass clip, disfigured and melted down the side of her scalp. Her bright eyes now clouded over with redness and no longer showing signs of their once shimmering cerulean tint. Fluids leaked out from the raw cracks in the charred tissue.

He wanted to scream her name with all his might, but a tightness had him silenced. The pain of her body wriggling and convulsing shattered his soul. Without hesitation, he rose, scooping Tally's fragile state in arm's twice her size. Her clothes tattered from talons and blood thickening with soot. Surveying the surrounding area, some of the tyrants fled, two challenging the fresh meat of his love, and one lay slain with splintered off broom handle piercing down its mouth, through its innards. She must have come to help when he was gone for too long. The thought repeated in his head. It was his fault she lay mutilated in his grasp.

A brave snap from the beasts brought him back to reality. Without hesitation, his boot came crashing down on the whelps neck, causing it to growl and rattle under his newfound strength. Tally moaned in agony with the movement, but if he put her down, she would surely become a target. His dry, peeling lips pressed against her head as another tear streaked down his cheek. The blood in his veins ran ice-cold and made his limbs tingle like electricity. The pain was becoming a faint illusion and a past thought. With a final stroke of Tally's hair, Hikaron nestled her against a straw wagon who had not become victim to the flames yet. The whelp that was wedged under his boot recovered and persisted to try spitting fire in his direction. Flames scorched the hairs of his arm as his bolder like hands clutched the dragon's open mouth. Pin needle-like teeth dug deep into the palms of his hands slicing open his flesh to the bone. In an instant, the thunderous shrieking of the beast was silent as the jaws of his enemy were squeezed to a pulposus mess.

The might of his rage didn't stop with its silence, he pulled the two pieces until bones splintered and snapped. Scales popped off like broken beads of a necklace. If the beasts could not be penetrated through their armor, then he would rip them apart as they had done to his friends and neighbors. Next chick lunged for his calf, clutching taut. Hirakon fell to his knee, the pain was fighting back at him. The needled teeth bore deep, over and over. With what he had left for a hand, Aron balled up his fist and smashed the drakes head into the stone street. It persisted through many blows. He could feel the meat of his leg being carved off into strips by the whelp. There wasn't enough grip left in him to dismantle this one so violently. In the last effort, with the stumps of his fingers, he dug them straight for the eyes. The whelpling hissed and writhed within his grasp. Sunlight began to paint their silhouettes.

His strength was no more. The blood loss and waves of pain diminished his body to a slumping mass in the morning dusk. In the corner of the giant's eyes, the remaining creatures retreated down the dirt roads and into the fields of grain. Waking in between realities and blackness the only thing to bring him back was the grit of a voice before the world collapsed into darkness.

                                                  "Good morning Captain."