Chronicles From the End of an Age

The No-One Hero - 10Yrs BTA

WARNING: THIS CHRONICLE CONTAINS SOME GORY SCENS

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Nuella sat at the edge of a cliff, wind whipping at her wings, trying to pull her into the sky. Rain splashed against her hazel scales, running off her body in rivets while neon blue lightning flashed, followed by rumbles of thunder. Black clouds rolled overhead lit by the orange and red light of a burning inferno. Heat crossed a large green field that grew into the rocky outcrops outlining a mountain range. The heat seared the very air Nuella breathed, making it dry and rasping. She licked at the water droplets trickling from her snout to soothe her throat.

She gripped at the steel pole she had lain down before her, finding the cool surface soothing against her paw. The weapon was near the length of her tail. A blade occupied the final third, with a sharp tip moving back into a pyramidal shape, weaving seamlessly into the pole at the end. They reminded the dragoness of the spears humans were so fond of, though the blade was far bigger. Dragons had given the weapons the name 'glave'.

She rustled her wings, glancing around to her comrades. Telekinetic dragons with colours ranging from dark brown to a light hazel blanketed the mountain. Each had either a glave or a large circular disk of metal. The glaves lay at their feet or were attached to their side with a clip and harness tucked under their right wing, while the shields stood upward. The drake next to her, who held one of the disks upright with a paw placed on top, looked out over the field with solemn eyes, struggling not to give away any emotion, though his tail tip flicked back and forth with anxious tremors.

"Voren? Are you alright?" the dragoness asked, causing him to flinch out of his stupor.

He looked to her, "That obvious huh?"

She smiled tightly, "A little."

He sighed, looking out over the field to their enemy. A line of red, gold, and yellow. Millions of dragons stretching as far as the eye could see, far outnumbering the telekinetic dragons' own army. But the most frightening part of it was the storm of fire above. Clouds of flame flared and swelled in size as they pushed against the storm clouds above, gradually dissolving the water and wind with its heat. The flaming storm acted as a roof for the army it was protecting below, occasionally lashing out with tendrils into the storm.

"You know," Nuella began, "I used to dream of battle as a hatchling."

"We all did," chuckled Voren.

"But in that, I was the hero," the dragoness continued, "Rushing forward with my glave, slashing with talons and tail and telekinesis. Slaying foe after foe. No one could stand against me in those dreams. But in none of those dreams was I fighting against equilibria, and in none of those dreams was I dwarfed by a storm of fire made by a single dragon."

The drake shuddered at her final words, "Do you really think it's one dragon?"

"That's what the reports say. The firestorm is Queen Athaer."

Voren rumbled slightly, "The storm dragons seem to be holding her back though."

The two of them glanced down the cliff where more dragons sat, concentrating on the sky above. There were several ranks of blue and green coloured dragons, stretched thin along the length of the enemies line. Millions of weather, or storm, dragons all combining their abilities into a single mega typhoon stretching the length of the entire southern side of the nation. In amongst them were larger pale blue dragons, their eyes focused on the no-dragon's land between the armies. From their vantage point on the mountain, Nuella and Voren could see shimmers within the rain, where gravity wells lay as traps. Already there were several crushed bodies of golden and red scales within.