Stephen Zimmer - Dream of Legends

The dragon lifted up its front right claw, and slowly extended it forward. As it set its clawed foot downward, the dragon rotated it so that the underside of the foot faced upward, to enable Wulfstan and his steed to climb up to its surface.

Wulfstan turned towards the Himmeros, which had remained at his side throughout the verbal exchange. He had not thought of the steed during the conversation, though his clenched hand was still taut upon its tether.

In some ways, he was very surprised that the brawny steed had not tried to bolt away. Perhaps Spirit Wing had sensed the dragon’s non-threatening intentions from the beginning, on a level that Wulfstan had not initially perceived. It was the only reason that he could think of why Spirit Wing had not made for the edge, and dragged him along in its wake.

Whether or not the Himmeros had been reassured, at least enough not to try and run away, Spirit Wing still exhibited great trepidation regarding the notion of approaching the dragon. Defiantly, it dug its paws firmly into the white, spongy surfacing, locking its legs as Wulfstan tried to coax the nervous creature towards the opened, offered underside of the dragon’s claws. He could not entirely blame the Himmeros for its reluctance, as the Elder’s sharp talons looked far more deadly than any sword or axe ever forged upon a skilled blacksmith’s anvil.

Wulfstan then turned his head back up and around, as he heard the sonorous voice of the dragon calling out again. This time, the sounds coming from the dragon’s mouth were unintelligible, though from their timbre and pattern Wulfstan guessed them to be some manner of words. He knew at once that the words were not intended for him, in any way. His eyes narrowed, and his brows furrowed in confusion, as the dragon continued to speak in the strange, unknown tongue. The language was harmonious and flowing in its cadence, and it made the dragon’s voice lighten even further from the deep, imposing tone that it had used to address Wulfstan.

The Saxan’s attention was diverted once more, as the rigid tether holding the Himmeros close to him suddenly slackened. Inexplicably, Spirit Wing brushed right by him towards the open, extended claws, showing not one sign of its former apprehension.

In a few moments, the Himmeros was tugging Wulfstan forcibly towards the claw. With a stronger yank, Spirit Wind lifted him off of his feet, and pulled him a couple of steps forward, bringing him out of his momentary stupor.

“The language of the First Age, spoken by the servants of the All-Father,” the Elder dragon explained to Wulfstan, resuming the Saxan speech once again. “I will speak to you later of it as well. But know that it is a tongue good for speaking to all manner of creatures brought into this world by the All-Father.”

With some effort, Wulfstan was able to find footholds and handholds in the leathery roughness of the dragon’s skin. The grips that he was afforded enabled him to clamber up onto the surface of the upturned claw. He strode to the middle of the great claw, where the Himmeros now stood in a relaxed manner. He flinched slightly, as the giant talons of the dragon closed in slowly, to fully encase their bodies.

The dragon brought its claws together delicately, until Wulfstan and the Himmeros were held relatively snugly near the center. Wulfstan then shifted and rotated, as he felt the dragon carefully turning its clenched talons over, while keeping its right foreleg lifted up off the ground.

A moment later, he was jostled abruptly, as the great bulk of the creature lurched forward. The dragon stepped forward somewhat awkwardly on its three unencumbered feet. After a few more paces, Wulfstan felt the dragon come to a halt. He knew that they were on the outermost edge of the floating snow-land, at the very cusp of the dizzying, plunging fall to the distant ground.

His heart started racing, as he felt the tension rippling through the dragon’s body. He had a good idea of what was about to happen, and did not want to think about it at all.

The Elder’s body rocked backward, just before its rear legs propelled its massive bulk forward in a strong leap, springing the great dragon far from the edge that Wulfstan had so carefully, and timidly, looked over just a short while before. There was a gliding sensation for a couple of moments, before a brief, sharp dip, as the creature’s vast wings stretched out and seized on the air. The sound of the dragon’s wings beating through the air, stirring up a tempest in their own right, filled Wulfstan’s ears. He felt his stomach grow queasy with the unpleasant sensations coming over him, and felt that it would not be much longer before he began to retch.

As if in reflex, he clutched tightly onto the neck of the Himmeros, which was now lying by his side. As Wulfstan’s hands grabbed fistfuls of its fur, Spirit Wing whined and fidgeted in the darkness of the dragon’s hold. Wulfstan trembled in fear as the dragon’s body alternately rose and fell, doing his best to endure as the creature worked to attain a level of equilibrium in its flight.

Gradually, the sharp fluctuations of motion steadied significantly, as the dragon settled down into a rhythmic trajectory. Wulfstan was grateful for both the darkness of the talon-enclosure, and for the imminent presence of the sky steed. He could take some succor from Spirit Wing’s company, while not being faced outright with the altitude that they were being carried at.

He rested his head against the Himmeros, making himself as comfortable as he possibly could, given the circumstances. The sky steed’s coarse fur lay against his right cheek, and the musky scent of it filled his nostrils.

Wulfstan’s stomach continued churning a little, although the nausea did not advance into an overwhelming degree of sickness. He felt his heart leap, to varying degrees, as the dragon continued bobbing in its flight. Sometimes he felt a sudden, sharp drop, and at other times he felt the dragon abruptly rising up, or sliding quickly to one side or the other, buoyed by the shifting, sudden winds, powerful enough to affect a body as immense as the Elder’s. A cold sweat eventually broke out on Wulfstan’s forehead, and a clammy feeling encompassed him, as he struggled to steel his nerves to the unpredictable lurches.

After what seemed like an eternity of being buffeted about, there was an extended period where Wulfstan felt the dragon’s wings pumping more furiously. With what little experience he had gained in flying, he recognized the sensation as coming from a steady climb in height. When the dragon leveled out its flight once again, their progress went much smoother than before. As squeamish as Wulfstan was feeling, it was a very welcome development.

As high as they had been on the floating white mass, where Bevriadak dwelled, Wulfstan could not believe that they had not yet run into the upper firmament; the lofty place where the stars were said to be positioned in the night. The explanation was probably just a simple matter, in that his judgement of spatial distance was rendered ineffective by the unblemished smoothness of the upper firmament. Perhaps there was a much greater distance to it than he had initially fathomed.

Even so, he knew that they were flying at an altitude that was far, far beyond anything that could be reached by a living creature of the world below. The comprehension of that sobering notion evoked his gratitude once more, over the fact that he and the Himmeros were being conveyed in a state of complete darkness. He was certain that his nerves and mind would not be able to handle the view currently spread out beneath the dragon’s claws.

It took him well over an hour to wrestle his anxieties down to a point where he stopped worrying about every slight shift in turbulence. The makeshift carriage created by Bevriedak’s closed claw was rough to endure for an extended journey, but Wulfstan was not about to complain.