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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1530393-Dragonscout
by Norby
Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #1530393
My first creative writing in 25 years. Feedback greatfully accepted.
Malafi landed on his Dragonflyers arm, exhausted after the long scout.  He nestled into his rest spot between the great wings of his guardian.  The warmth radiating from the guardian's hide began the job of re-engergising him, assisted by the glowing coals offered him by his Dragonflyer.  Feeling the tentative appeal sent, Malafi opened his mind so as to share the results of his scout with the clan leaders.  During these dangerous times, with the sly ones on the move, the clan needed all the information their scouts could provide.

The sly ones were renegade warriors.  They would revel in chaos and delight in disaster.  Not for them was the security of the clan, the feeling of oneness.  Throw backs to the ancient days when the wyvern were no better than the other beasts of the land.  The sly ones had rejected the purity of telepathic unity, the peace of enlightened living, preferring instead to take the path of solitary anarchy.  The sly ones did not agree with the clans unity with their human dragonflyers.  They wanted the clan to assert their dominance over humankind and revert back to hunting humans for game.  When it was discovered that the sly ones were using the clans knowledge of humans to devour future Dragonflyers, they were ousted.  Now it was the responsibility of the clan  to limit the chaos.

Malafi did understand the sly ones actions.  There was beauty in the unity of the clan. There was always a voice to give advice, an ear to listen to problems, a laugh when you had a good joke to share.  All you had to do was send an invitation to the collective thoughts and someone would answer.  There was no intrusion, every wyvern had their own personal shield that was only ever broached during a clan alert.  What distressed Malafi most was the sly ones attitude to the Dragonflyers and their breed.  He cared deeply for his flyer. The humans were hampered by a tragically short life and the limitations of mundane verbality, but were caring and capable of great acts of bravery.  Malafi remembered the Dragonflyer who threw herself in front of a sly ones fire dart to protect her scout.  This was the race the sly ones wanted exterminated.  Malafi swore he would give his life to prevent this.

Pulling himself out of his musings, Malafi prepared himself for his next scout.  Sending a word of thanks to his guardian, he scampered lightly onto his Dragonflyers hand.  Before flight, he rubbed his head affectionately against the protective glove of his flyer.  A small gesture, but Malafi knew how important touch was to a race denied the freedom of telepathy. 

Flight!  The welcome feeling of freedom brushed Malafi's senses as his wings cut through the air.  He sank through the deep cloud layer, stretching in delight as the moisture dampened his dry, taut hide.  Flying by instinct, Malafi located and immersed himself in the warm northern wind channel, which would carry him swiftly along his scout route without taxing his energy.  Gliding along the currents, alert, yet relaxed, scanning for trouble.  A glow in the distance.  Malafi headed for the source.  Fire darts, surrounding a human village.  The flames from the darts would not spread, but were so intense that vegetation would wither and water sources evaporate.  The humans would have the moisture sucked slowly from their bodies and die a slow and excruciating death.  Malafi sent a message for the Goliaths, the massive dragons of the underground.  The Goliaths had no love for the humans, not really classing them as a species, yet respected the humans right to exist.  The fire darts gave the Goliaths energy and was a precursor to their mating.  Malafi had been privileged to watch a courtship dance from a distance.  The giants of the underworld became graceful, dancing with indescribable beauty, it was a sight he would never forget. 

"Prepare to die, Runt!"

The air reverberated with the roar of a sly one.  Malafi was buffeted by the sound waves, tossed through the air like a feather in a storm.  Reacting quickly, Malafi folded his wings and allowed himself to be tossed, knowing that the sly one would not be able to target him in the turbulence.  Stretching his mind, Malafi screamed the signal  "ALERT, attack". 

The sly one had the battle experience of a seasoned warrior.  Malafi knew his only chance was using his speed and agility to outmanouvre his pursuer, until help from the clan arrived.  He could not outrun the killer, it would never cease in pursuit.  Feeling the anger of his pursuer Malafi fought his instincts, he must not allow this creature to anticipate his actions.  The sly one had trained with Scouts, teaching fighting skills.  With the effects of the blast lessening, Malafi tensed himself for flight.  As he was tumbled in the direction of home, he opened his wings and dove.  Spiraling, seemingly out of control, he plummeted towards the ground.  Using his long tail as a rudder, he changed direction, using the impetus of his dive to drive him high into the clouds.  Ignoring the warm currents that would conserve his strength, Malafi flew into the cold oncoming winds.  If he was to die, he wanted the beast hunting him weakened.  Battling the currents, swooping, diving, gliding.  Body tense, yet supple, cutting though the air.  The passing of time slowed, a single second lasted an eternity.  A tremor of fear rippled through his body, he did not want to die at the mercy of a creature who represented all Malafi deplored.  The voices of the clan echoed at the edge of Malafis conciousness, supporting and strengthening.  Sensing the approach of the warriors, Malafi turned to flee in their direction.  Every ounce of his energy bought forth to strain his pursuer.  Drawing on his inner reserves, swooping, spiralling and soaring, till at last he saw them.  Warriors.

Heart chilled and heavy, Malafi fought against the gathering blackness.  No longer could he hear the clans' supportive voices.  A feeling of emptyness encompassed him, the enemy would be beaten by the warriors, but he would not live to see it.  Cold and alone Malafi folded his wings for his final dive into eternity.  Malafi felt the impact on the edges of his senses.  It was softer and gentler than he expected.  Opening his eyes for a final glimpse, Malafi looked deeply into the protective face of his dragonflyer.




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