I was introduced to the worlds of science fiction and fantasy in 2001. An interesting conversation with a very talented artist sparked an idea for a story. Thus the birth of Vizin. Unfortunately, numerous life changes have drastically delayed the completion of Vizin’s story. He still lives in my heart and mind, and hopefully will find his way through my fingers some day soon.
He lay motionless between the bushes and the base of the tree, trying to hold back his panting breath. His long tail tucked close to his body, and his glistening eyes closed. He could hear them getting closer, and with each approaching sound his heart beat harder. Not sure if the small bushes would hide him, but knowing it was too late to move now.
Their foreign cries sent arcs of fear through his blood. He had no need to comprehend their speech, torches and swords described their intent well enough. His only escape was the fading sun. If he could make it until dark, he could get back to the mountain crevices.
The humans got closer, and he heard their beasts howling, running straight for him. Not wanting to lose his kill, he leaped from his shelter and led them away. As the beasts chased him, the humans followed. He ran, ducking between trees and bounding over ravines with far more grace and speed than his pursuers were capable of. There were too many beasts, they would injure him badly before he could take them all. The humans were far too great in number, he would be killed if they got to him.
He ran toward the river, where the water pounded over the boulders. He carefully leaped across the wet stones, his tail flailing for balance. By the time the humans reached the river bank, night had set, and they called back their beasts. He had fled death once again.
He was known in his clan as Srcenn, fathered by Srcarr, hatched from the egg of Aarcenn. His parents were both killed by the humans, as well as most of the clan. He had joined with Lsaa, and recently hatched their first offspring, Srcaa. Srcaa was his purpose now, his reason for survival, while he was her only hope for survival.
Srcenn went back to the tree and picked up the carcass he had left there. This male was nearly too big for his jaws to hold. So many of the humans were moving away, or keeping their young hidden from the hunting dragons. Srcenn had been going earlier in the day each time, trying to find a small human outside of their shelters and out of reach of the fire and swords that multiplied with every kill. Tired and bruised, he made it to the crevices and served his catch to his companion and hatchling.
Lsaa had helped him hunt in the past, leaving their unhatched egg with elders. But she lost her footing in a chase one night, and the beasts had destroyed her leg. She cared for the few elder and injured dragons that were left. The humans did not dare to approach the crevices where the dragons dwelled. This was their territory, their land to rule.
The only hunters left were Srcenn, his cousins Rhasr and Ccaan, and their father, Ccasr. Ccasr was the lord of the clan, whom ordinarily did not venture away to hunt. But Ccasr knew his clan was in need of him as long as he was able to provide. The days of noble status were long gone. These days were of struggle and fortitude.
Srcaa was the last offspring of the clan. Unless a mate could be found for her, she would be the last of their kind. There were no other females to lay in the clan, and no young males to father for her. When he was not hunting, Srcenn had been searching the mountains and across the plains for another clan. When he did find signs of other dragons, his tracking led him to dwellings of bones and rotted hides.
The humans had captured most of the game animals from the woods and kept them hidden along with their young. At times, the hunters would go out together to take down one or two of the adult humans, tearing their carcasses to carry back to the crevices. Srcenn had even tried gathering fish from the rivers, but his attempts did not suffice for his clan.
... full story included in Words Ago.
~ S.S. White