Young Writers Society

Great sloping mountains of sapphire blue ice traveled as far as the eye could see, the thin powdered snow scattered over the peaks, glittering in the shimmering starlight. Not a breath of wind broke the still silence and Zoltar could almost hear the stars singing in the deep cobalt blue skies above. The soft whisper of a breeze ran over Zoltar’s wings, its icy fingers brushing his obsidian black scales. In the far distance behind him he could just pick up the creaking groans of the Lake of Whispering as it froze over.

Zoltar took in a deep breath. The air was as sharp as needles and filled him with a wild sense of freedom. It was starting to get bitterly cold though as they ventured deeper into the frozen wastes. They’d been flying for hours now. In the beginning they’d talked back and forth a bit, but a few hours back he’d lapsed into silence as he began to conserve his energy to fight against the biting cold.

He glanced over at Felistia. She was staring straight ahead into the distance as if she was trying to gaze into the future, her golden eyes seeming to see everything and yet nothing.

Soon the wind began to pick up. The icy gale like millions of thorns speared into his skin, battering his wings and stinging his eyes.

Felistia soared through the blizzard as silent as a ghost. Zoltar had to strain his eyes to keep sight of her and even then sometimes she would disappear from his sight for a few fleeting seconds, before the snow thinned and she became visible again.

He almost jumped out his scales when she popped up next to him again, melting out of the swirling white.

“You need to stick close to me now Zoltar,” he could barley heard Felistia over the shrieking of the blizzard, “It’s easy to get lost in these storms and we’re nearing hostile territory.”

Zoltar nodded, though he wasn’t sure she saw it. For the next half hour or so he tailed, so close he could almost reach out and touch her. She’d reassured him that the storm should soon pass, but to his dismay it seemed to be picking up.

He had no sense of the direction he was flying or even how high up he was. He was completely dependent on Felistia guiding him.

Finally, after battling the howling winds for what seemed like hours, Felistia seemed to begin to drop in height.

“I think we should seek shelter for the night,” she yelled over the roar of the storm as she made a shallow arch downward.

Zoltar breathed a sigh of relief. His wings were beginning to burn like fire and it was all he could do to keep sight of Felistia as they slowly descended.

Before long the dark shape of the chasm streaked ground appeared through the swirling snowflakes. Felistia banked to the right, heading for the opening to a particularly wide ravine. Zoltar followed and was soon swallowed by the deep blue walls of the crevasse.

Almost immediately the wind quelled and the frozen missiles of ice blasting against his scales ceased. Over head the storm raged on as the two dragons landed on a soft bank of snow deep within the gorge.

Zoltar flopped down onto the snow, dragging in a deep sigh of relief. His heart was pounding and only the flame inside him kept him from freezing to death. After the first day in the Ice Talon Kingdom he’d become all too aware of what would happen if he didn’t make it back by the end of the week. If his fire went out, he’d succumb to the biting cold within hours.

“We’ll stay here for the night. Hopefully the storm will have passed by morning,” Felistia said as she curled up, her wings folded over her as a shield from the falling snow.

Zoltar watching, followed her example, spreading his wings over his body. It was a little uncomfortably at first, but he soon grew used to it. It would prove vital through the night as a steady blanket of snow fell from the violent sky above.

“Night Felistia,” he called, “Thank you for coming with me. I’m not sure I’d have gotten this far without you.”

He saw her smile, “No problem Zoltar. It was nice to have someone with me today. Try to get some rest. We’ll reach the palace tomorrow.”

…

Sleep was hard to find that night. Even with his wings folded over him, the bitter cold and constant snowfall was hard to ignore.

He didn’t know how long he’d been drifting in and out of shallow sleep for when a distant howl awoke him from his haze.

He sat up, turning his ears in the directing the echoing call had come from. It seemed to be coming from further down the cavern. He waited, listening for it again, but all was silent. Maybe he’d imagined it; a hallucination caused by his sleepless state.

He was about to lie down again when it came again; a ghost like wail, bouncing through the chasms endless passages.

Felistia sprang to her feet, any trace of drowsiness gone, replaced with a look of utter horror, “We have to go Zoltar. Now!”

“Wait, what? What’s happening,” Zoltar shook his head, trying to make sense of the situation as the baying of the creatures grew louder.

“Those are Drilvers.We have to get out of here before they find us,” Felistia urged, spreading her moon-like wings and lifting into the air.

Zoltar was about to follow suit when out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of silver burst from around a corner.

Time seemed to stand still as Zoltar watched the dragon like creature spring towards his exposed throat, its sabra-like fangs flashing in the pale light. A fireball burned up in his chest, but he knew there wouldn’t be enough time to launch it.

Then Felistia was there, barrelling head first into the Drilver, sending the dappled silver creature flying into the far wall with a load bang.

She barely had enough time to get to her paws when another two Drilvers pounced from the shadows. Zoltar let loose his fire ball. It collided with one of the Drilvers wings, causing it to yelp in pain, but the second one didn’t even flinch. It vaulted across the distance between it and Felistia, landing on her back with a howl of predatory pleasure.

Zoltar knew there wasn’t enough time to fire again and even then he might hurt Felistia. He raced towards her as she bucked and lunged as she tried to knock the Drilver from her back. It clung on with an iron-like grip, ripping and tearing at her neck and wings with its long ice pick claws.

“Get off her!” Zoltar roaring, stabbing out with his barbed tail. The dragon dodged out of his reach, springing from Felistia with a threatening growl. It didn’t attack again, instead howling a long blood curdling call. More snarls echoed from the surrounding tundra, all converging on Zoltar and Felistia’s position.

“We must go now,” Felistia panted, flapping her bleeding wings to gain height, “We’ll never be able to fight them all.”

Nodding, Zoltar followed, soaring out of the cavern. The blizzard was still raging all around him, but through the white out he could see the wolf-like shapes of the Drilvers pounding through the snow towards them.

Guilt racked his mind. Felistia wouldn’t be wounded if she hadn’t saved him. He should have been the one to take the blow. He was the one that hadn’t moved fast enough. He couldn’t think about that now though. Right now he and Felistia needed to concentrate on flying out of sight.

They were almost out of reach. If they could just get a bit higher they could disappear into the night.

“We’re almost there,” Zoltar called to Felistia, who was wavering in the air as the wind battered her from all sides.

With a few more powerful beats of their wings they disappeared into the storm, leaving the pack of dragon snarling and growling on the ground below.