A Fairy Tale
A Fairy Tale
Aden Bradshaw
Tillerhoft is a small city in the valley of Fayren. With miles of plains around it, the people of the valley remain unaware of the happenings of the world, and as far as they are concerned, all that exists outside their home is the fields between them and the mountains.
There are only two paths that lead through the valley, meeting at the city. One is a gap in the mountains to the North that leads into the great forest, but it is little-travelled as it contains bandits and other dangerous creatures ranging from vicious goblins to towering trolls. The other entrance lies to the South. This is a small pass through the mountains, almost solely used by the men of the hills to trade their pelts and crafts in the markets of Tillerhoft.
And there the city sits, the Stream of Aled rushing through it from the mountains. A kind lord rests upon his dias in the keep. And while busy, the milling of the townsfolk would remind one of a tranquil river. And all was just so on that fateful day.
The storm clouds billowed over the western range, moving at a greater speed than the swiftest of riders or winged beasts. Low they came between the peaks, a howling wind rushing ahead.
Leoned was in the fields when it began. He ran among the tall grass until he hit the dirt path that led to his home far outside the city walls. Lightning crackled on the edges of the grey sea that now began to block Tillerhoft from the sun. Leoned reached his doorstep after his hard sprint, and from there he watched the scene that would haunt him until the end of his days.
The storm was closer, and the wind stronger. Leoned’s wavy hair was flying behind his head like a tattered, golden banner. Tears sprang from his icy blue eyes and ran down his cheek, for he saw a sight that would make even a mighty warrior weep.
As the roaring thunder began to reach his own home, a deep red glow revealed a terrible shape at the heart of the storm. It had enormous wings that traded feathers for talons at their tips. It’s tail whipped about it with great ferocity as it seemed to stab the air with its deadly, arrow-like end. But worst of all was at the top of it’s long, powerful neck. A mighty maw gaped and set fire to the sky. And from amidst the flames out came a terrible roar that shook the earth and sent tremors through Leoned’s body.
When the noise ceased, the boom of thunder could be heard again, and the shape had gone, shadowed by the clouds. The lightning and wind seemed to bring about an odd moment of peace.
And then it emerged as swiftly as it had left. Only now it was just a few dozen meters above Leoned. And as it flew overhead the might of it’s immeasurably sized wings seemed to uproot the very earth, and Leoned was flung into his own door.
Then it was over. Already sunlight seemed to creep through the cracks that now formed in the gloomy barrier. Leoned began to attempt rising to his feet, when his mother opened the door. She saw the apparent dent in the wood and her son on the ground, and immediately leapt to his aid. “Leoned!”, she cried. “I told you not to go too far!” She held him against her tightly and he groaned with pain. Quickly she realized her mistake, pulled him away, and began to inspect him. “Are you alright? What hurts?”, she said, tearing up. Pulling up his sleeves they discovered some bruises but nothing appeared serious to Leoned. His mother felt differently of course. “We must get you to the apothecary immediately.”
The ride into town wasn’t a long one. His mother sat at the front of the cart holding the reins for Smoke, their horse. Or rather his father’s horse. “What a horrible catastrophe. My heart nearly stopped at that horrible roar! And when I heard it I just knew you had run too far into the fields again on one of your ‘Adventures’. I keep telling you to stay close to home just in case something happens, but you never listen!” His mother continued on like this as she had the whole trip. Looking around from the back of the cart, Leoned wasn’t sure how much of a “catastrophe” it was. Besides some crops thrown around, minor damages to a small multitude of the farms, and livestock that would need wrangling as they ran amuck, clearly terrified, everything seemed generally intact. Especially the city which they were rapidly approaching. Though not much happened in Fayren, he supposed that such an otherworldly event as this could be considered a catastrophe.
Heading inside the walls, Leoned expected nothing less than a full on panic. Though when they entered they were met with nothing. The streets appeared empty. Knocking when they arrived at the apothecary’s door had proved fruitless. One guard was seen patrolling. When asked about the situation, he informed them both that Lord Faeden had called a mass assembly. They left Smoke at the stables and made their way to Faeden’s halls.
Indeed when they arrived at the keep, gathered there was no less than the count of the entire city. A guard at the door addressed his mother. “Looking beautiful as ever Ms.Alice.”
“Why thank you, Adol.”, she replied slightly blushing. Adol had been a friend of his father and was always quite helpful to his mother in times of need. But beautiful was something he had never considered his mother. Though, people had always made nice comments on his hair and eyes, and he had gotten both from her. And age had not yet crept its way into any form of wrinkle or sign of weariness in her and would not for some years. “What exactly is going on here?”, she questioned.
“They’re trying to decide how to handle the beast,” he replied. Adol was in fact showing signs of age, though fear had replaced weariness in his old, kind eyes.
“So it’s true? I half thought my son was spinning his own tales again.” The same fear seemed to make its way into her voice. Leoned walked past them to listen in on the people who had experienced the tale his mother was now coming to grips with. Entering the keep, he faced what he had expected when he arrived at Tillerhoft’s gates, sheer panic.
“What are we to do when it returns? Do you have the means to protect us?”
“What means could the knights possibly have against that demon? We’re doomed!”
“We need to kill that thing before it kills us!”
“And how are you gonna do that? You’re a blacksmith, Haavin!”
“And you’re just an apothecary, Fletil!”
“ORDER!”, came a cry from the end of the dining hall. The voice held no malice, but it wielded the commanding tone of the great kings of old. The man that held such power brought all eyes to him. His wear was of fine silk, but simple design. On his belt was a sword, and atop his head sat a small silver crown nearly covered by black locks of hair that went to his shoulders. His expression was now stern, but his lean face and high cheekbones gave him the look of a friend. There were seven men and women on each side of him, heavily armored, each bearing a unique crest. The Knights of Tillerhoft were wardens of the land, and were known as figures of hope and justice. “I will have order in my hall!”, commanded Lord Faeden. “My people! This is not the first crisis we have faced. When Tillerhoft was left on its own, bandits seized their opportunity and raided our farms. It was then the nobles shed their previous titles and led our people as the first knights of Tillerhoft, driving the bandits from our valley. And since then a gate has been built, and a peaceful watch has remained on the outside world. When a plague hit our land, we cared for our own, sharing all we could, and with the aid of our apothecary overcame our hardship,” he said, waving his hand towards Fletil. “We will persevere now as we always have.”
“My lord,” said a woman, approaching humbly, “This is no plague or bandit, but a legend from another age. One we simple folk do not have the power to combat.”
“Aye!”, cried an old, crotchety man. “But we could find it. According to the very same legend, we are not far from the final resting place of the great hunter! Whose weapon, that has slain many a great beast, lies with him!” One of the knights stepped forward, the head of their order.
“My lord.”, he says, “I cannot spare any of my knights for a quest at a time such as this. Especially one with such little hope.” Lord Faeden stood silently, apparently deep in thought.
“I will go.” All eyes turn to Leoned, who now stood only a few feet from Faeden. Leoned never thought he would speak to the great lord who resided in the castle, let alone to accept a quest. Though he had dreamed of this very moment many times.
“My boy,” replied Faeden, “ your bravery is highly commendable. But I cannot in good conscience send one of my citizens to what is near certain death.” Leoned’s heart sank. He did not expect this is how his dream would play out. “Do not fret.” Faeden continued. “Your heart is strong. And should it continue on this way you have nothing to fear. Leave this dreary hall without worry, and may lady luck smile on you in these dark days to come.”
Leoned’s face lit up. While walking out it was all he could do not to leap with joy. He understood now. Lord Faeden could not send him on this quest. But with his courageous heart there was nothing stopping him from undertaking it.
He found smoke in the stable. The horse nuzzled him, it’s usual warm greeting. Leoned laughed and scratched Smoke’s nose. This was a ritual both had come to love. Leoned mounted him, and rode for the North gate. When he hit the road Leoned howled with glee. He was ready for his first adventure.
It was nearly night when he passed through the forest gate. The trees seemed to lean in over the road. Their branches like twisted fingers grasping and searching for anyone who dared enter. Smoke stirred, and Leoned felt doubt. But he could not turn back now. He urged Smoke onward and entered the woods.
After he was sure that he would not be followed by any search party, Leoned stopped after a few hours to make camp. He had taken a few supplies from the cart before he left, and began sharing some rations with smoke. He had no current plan other than to find the woodmen who supposedly lived in the forest. He hoped they could give him some direction.
“Who trespasses in my woods?” Leoned gave a start and looked about him. Smoke was clearly nervous.
“I did not mean to impose!”, Leoned shouted into the night. He could not place where the voice was coming from until he looked up. In the middle of a clearing resided a tree much larger than the others and reached far higher. Up in it’s branches stared two large, glowing, yellow eyes.
“And yet, here you rest not but a few meters from my home.” The voice was raspy and booming. The eyes began to move down the tree and Leoned searched for the accompanying body. About half way down the moonlight revealed it’s horrid shape. The great serpent was wrapped around the entire trunk of the tree and stretched all the way to the top. Leoned was nearly frozen with fear.
“I did not realize that anyone lived here. I apologize.”
“Why are you here, boy?” It had reached the base of the tree and began to move slowly towards him. Though this was not what he had hoped for, Leoned needed direction.
“I am searching for the final resting place of the Great Hunter.” The snake froze for a moment, then continued.
“I could show you, boy. But you must trust me.” The serpent sounded slightly amused. Leoned did not trust this creature, nor could he. As it slithered towards him, now only a meter away, a spear landed between them and shook from the impact. The serpent recoiled and not a moment later a man leapt down from the trees. Leoned could not see his face for he wore a cloak as green as the leaves.
“Have you not an agreement with the druids, Agmolion?” asked Leoned’s savior. Agmolion’s forked tongue flickered.
“He is not of the woodmen.” said the snake.
“Your agreement does not specify that lineage is a factor in determining who is spared of your evil intentions, serpent.” The man seemed to spit out the last word like it had a foul taste. Agmolion made a wretched noise that seemed akin to an exasperation of anger, and he slithered away. The man’s grip on his spear loosened. “Come,” he said to Leoned. “There are many more foul things than the likes of him in these woods. I will guide you.” Leoned quickly obliged and packed his things.
“Are you a woodman?” asked Leoned.
“No. And I will be the first to ask questions. Why are you searching for The Great Hunter?” The man walked with complete confidence in where he was going, apparently using some internal compass.
“I live in the Valley of Fayren. A great beast terrorized our land earlier today. I seek the weapon of The Great Hunter in order to protect my people.”
“You mean the dragon that has awoken.” Leoned was surprised. He thought this news would have shocked the man. “Do you intend to slay it yourself?” Leoned hadn’t actually thought about it.
“If that is what I must do.”, he replied. He expected some sort of retort about his age or size. “Do you doubt that I could?”
“You have already shown you have great courage by venturing into this wood alone. I do not doubt your heart. But you are clearly not a warrior.”, said the man.
“Will you show me how to be?”, he asked. The man paused.
“Yes. But for now, we rest.” After a few more steps he gestured to a clearing with a small spring that poured beautifully clear water into a small pond.
“You have nothing to fear here. You may ask more questions in the morning. I will keep watch.” And with that Leoned slept peacefully for the rest of the night.
Leoned awoke to the smell of smoke. The man was roasting a hare he had caught over a makeshift spit. “I only left you alone for a moment to catch our breakfast. It should be ready in just a moment.” Leoned walked over to the spring to have a drink.
“You said I could ask you questions in the morning.” ,Leoned reminded him. The man nodded and motioned for him to continue. “What is your name?”
“Eorl,” he said. Leoned realized that with the help of the daylight this was the first time he could see Eorl’s face. He was fairly young. He had red hair and a short beard, and his eyes appeared as deep pools of dark green.
“If you’re not a woodman, then who are you?”, Leoned continued.
“I am from a long line of warriors. We no longer speak the name of our order, for it is the name of The Great Hunter. We were his followers and aided him against many quarries,” explained Eorl. Leoned stared in awe. “Are you going to sit there until all the water slowly drips from your fingers?” Leoned looked down and realized he indeed was losing all the water in his cupped hands. He drank it. And then the water in the pond began to swirl. Slowly at first, but it picked up in speed and became a powerful torrent that forced Leoned back. And from the middle slowly rose a beautiful woman clad in white robes. Her golden hair reached her feet which levitated a few feet from the ground. Her eyes opened and they glowed blue as the sky. Though Leoned backed away, it was not out of fear, but respect. He felt graced by this woman's presence. For her smile was kind and the light that emanated from her seemed to brighten even the day.
“Greetings,” she said. Her voice was smooth and motherly, and as it washed over them Leoned felt warm and uplifted. “What brings you to my doorstep?” Eorl bowed.
“We did not mean to disturb you my lady. We merely sought shelter after an encounter with Agmolion the Serpent,” he explained.
“There is no need for apologies. I welcome the company,” she said, still showing her radiant smile. “And you Leoned. I am most pleased to speak with you.”
“How do you know my name?”, Leoned asked.
“Such things will come to light in due time. But I must speak with you about your quest,” she said.
“Of course, my lady,” Leoned said, following suit with Eorl as he did not know what else to call her.
“What you seek is an artifact that’s importance is beyond your comprehension. It’s power channeled through you alone would be so great that the dragon you intend to hunt will know of it’s revival the moment you obtain it. It will lash out in anger against not only you but upon the forest and your home,” the woman explained.
“Am I to expect no such thing will happen if I do nothing?” ,Leoned asked.
“No,” she said flatly. “Now that the dragon has awoken, it is impossible to know what troubles it will bring. It undoubtedly will bring terror somewhere in the world. If you do nothing, it will continue to bring down its wrath, but you may yet avoid it’s fire and spare your town.” Leoned was distraught.
“So I either risk my home and those I love, or condemn others to this fate?” , he asked.
“Indeed,” she answered. “You must decide who you are Leoned, and what you will become.” Leoned cast down his eyes. “I am sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, sweet Leoned. It is a decision you should not have to make yet in your life, let alone one so drastic.”
“Thank you for your guidance, my lady,” said Leoned. She smiled again, once again blessing the pair with it’s radiance.
“You are welcome. Farewell.” And with that she receded back into the pond, and the water was still. Eorl grabbed his shoulder.
“Let’s move. You can ask questions on the way and I will show you some techniques as well,” Eorl’s voice was comforting. Leoned appreciated that.
“Who was she?”, asked Leoned. They had been walking for about half an hour. And Leoned was twirling Eorl’s spear as the warrior instructed.
“The woodmen call them ‘White Ladies’. They are spirits from beyond our world that reside in springs, trees, rivers, and many other natural formations. They have been on this earth almost as long as it has existed and have attained a great wealth of wisdom in their years here. They are known to give guidance to those that seek it, or are considered by them to be needing it. The latter being our case.”, Eorl explained. He seemed to have an enormously extensive knowledge of the world for a warrior. And Leoned intended to take advantage of this.
Together they travelled for three days. Leoned was learning more and more. Not just about how to wield a weapon but about the world beyond the valley. Apparently, Eorl’s travels were not limited to the great forest. At the center of the known land was a lake so large that those who live on it’s shores call it The Sea of Afulin. The kingdom that Tillerhoft was once a part of still stood but was fractured and it’s power was divided among five barons. But most importantly, Eorl was teaching him how to survive on his return journey. “Goblins are an ever present threat.” , he said. “Though small, they roam in large packs. But their weakness is their cowardice. If you can manage to fight off two or three they will realize you are not an easy target and retreat. Bandits are similarly dealt with, but unlike goblins they are crafty. Watch the road for various traps they may have laid.”
“What about trolls?”, Leoned asked. “How should I slay a troll?”
“Trolls are another matter entirely,” began Eorl. Suddenly, there was pounding. The sound of large footsteps approached and Eorl motioned for Leoned to hide with him behind a tree. Leoned attempted to calm Smoke.
“What do you mean?”, Leoned whispered.
“You don’t slay them.” And moments after Eorl’s answer the tree that sheltered them was ripped from its roots and held in the air. Leoned could not hold onto Smoke, and the horse bolted. In front of them was a humanoid shape that stood high above them, and was as wide as it was tall. Thick fur covered it except on its face and huge, monstrous hands. It’s bottom jaw stuck out and from it two huge tusks protruded. And it roared with anger. “RUN LEONED!”cried Eorl as he drove his spear into the creature's chest. Leoned did as he was asked while the troll lashed out with fury, though it seemed Eorl may be too quick for it. Branches cut across Leoned’s face as he sprinted through the trees. And he stopped suddenly, barely able to keep his balance as he teetered on the edge of a cliff that had appeared in his path. He looked behind him and saw a tree sailing through the air. The troll apparently did not appreciate his absence. The tree crashed into its kin and they toppled under it. Leoned could not dodge them in time and was thrown off the edge. He tumbled. And all went black.
Leoned awoke again to the smell of smoke. He half expected to see Eorl there, once again cooking their morning meal. Instead he saw a most peculiar sight. An old man dressed in brown traveling robes covered in dirt and grass stains. He had a grey beard that reached down to his collar and a strange hat with flaps on the side that seemed to be meant for covering his ears, but were now pointed up due to the warm weather. And last but not least, he smoked a wooden pipe. As he gained his bearings, Leoned realized it was night. And then he remembered everything. Looking down at his legs he was sure to find bones protruding from them. Or at least some cracked ribs. His shirt was off. He had a few bruises with ointment on them, but that was all. He was in wonder how he had not sustained more injury. “You would be dead had I not saved you,” said the man, appearing to have read his thoughts.
“And how did you save me?” The man did not answer Leoned’s question, but instead gave a hearty laugh. This traveller was peculiar indeed. “Where is my friend? Is he safe as well?” The man took a few more puffs from his pipe.
“I do not know.” Leoned’s heart sank. “What I do know is that I have not yet received my thanks,” said the old man. Leoned was slightly frustrated with his new companions' lack of care for Eorl’s well being, but he supposed he did owe the man thanks. Another puff, and the old wanderer raised his eyebrow expectantly.
“Thank you for saving my life,” said Leoned. The man scoffed.
“I can detect the lack of sincerity in your words, but what little gratitude you have is appreciated.” And with that the man leaned back against a tree behind where he sat.
“Who are you?”, Leoned asked. Another puff.
“I go by many names,” he said. “As of this moment, to you I am both savior and friend, and you will know me as such.” This was a confusing answer. “Have you pondered the white lady’s words?” Leoned wanted to ask ‘Friend’ how he knew about the white lady, for he had a sneaking suspicion he was the reason the spirit had known his name. But he realized that trying to get a straight answer from this man would gain him nothing. So he simply answered.
“Nearly every moment of my travels,” he said. Friend laughed again.
“The question was not meant to torment your soul, Leoned. It was supposed to bring to your realization the potential you possessed,” he said. Leoned was confused again. His face must have shown it because Friend continued. “Leoned, you stood in front of all of Tillerhoft to proclaim that you will risk your life for it. When Lord Faeden turned down your offer, you took his kind words that he gave to you and used them as fuel for your quest. And even after you were faced with the words of the white lady, did you halt your journey? Did you stop and think about who you are? About who you would become? No. You continued on because in your heart you already knew. We all knew. That is what the spirit had intended for you to realize.” Friend leaned back once again after his lecture and continued to smoke his pipe. Leoned pondered the man's words.
“You’re saying this is my destiny?” , asked Lenoed.
“No,” Friend said. “This is the path you have forged.” Leoned began to understand. “And if that has not lifted your hopes, then perhaps this will.” Leoned looked into the direction the man was staring. He could hear the clopping of hooves and a faint call.
“Leoned!”, said Eorl’s voice, far out in the trees. Leoned turned back to the old man. The fire was doused and no shape was seen. His friend was gone.
Eorl lay sleeping as Leoned cooked their breakfast. The hare he had caught was smaller than the game Eorl usually caught for their meals. But it would be enough to fill their stomachs for a few hours. Eorl stirred and his eyes fluttered open. He put his hand to his head as he rose. Leoned had tended to the man’s wounds last night. Smoke had carried him into the campsite, and when Eorl had found Leoned relief filled his weary face, and he had immediately collapsed and had not moved until now. Leoned was thrilled to see him awake. “I made a brace for your broken leg out of some ripped cloth and wood. It will not last long but I believe I have a right to be proud of my work,” said Leoned. “I also found a sturdy branch to serve as a walking stick.” Eorl found the stick and hobbled over to Leoned, hardly concealing his pride in his pupil.
“And I see you’ve found our breakfast,” said Eorl cheerily. “How did you manage that.?”
“I will be the first to ask questions,” said Leoned. Eorl laughed at his call back to their first meeting. “What happened with the troll?” Eorl’s face quickly went sour.
“I slayed it,” he said sitting down. Leoned didn’t understand his mood.
“Isn’t that good?”, he asked. “You can claim it as a mighty trophy! Gain renown for your prowess in battle!” Leoned was giddy.
“No,” Eorl barked. Leoned’s expression now changed as well. “There is a reason you have not heard of my people. That no one knows of our aid to The Great Hunter. We did not keep our secret due to humbleness or pride. There is no renown in such things.”
“What do you mean?” Leoned pressed.
“Death is not easily given, Leoned,” he said. “We do not carry pride after our job is complete. Only guilt.” Leoned met Eorl’s eyes. It was then Leoned understood their beauty. Those deep pools of green were filled with sorrow. “You will understand soon enough.”
After a day of recovery came one more of travel. It was then they arrived at their destination. On the outer ring of the mountains that encircled the valley of Fayren, there was a path that led high up to the peaks. Leoned and Eorl stood in front of it now. Eorl dismounted Smoke, who had carried him there. “He will have to stay here. The pass becomes far too narrow for him,” Eorl said.
“Can you make the climb?”, asked Leoned, quite concerned for his friend.
“I will manage.” Eorl took his stick with surprising spring in his step. It seemed nothing could stop the warrior. They climbed until the sun was beginning to set. It was then they reached the entry to the tomb. The doorway stood but a few meters from the peak of the mountain, and the wind howled above the minimal barrier of stone that surrounded a small garden in front of the entrance. They entered. Leoned was surprised to find the air in the tomb was quite refreshing. Perhaps some sort of spell was placed over it. It was not long before they reached the main chamber. It was not overly ornate. A well carved stone casket was on a short platform, and a hole in the ceiling allowed the sunlight to bathe over it. Eorl motioned for Leoned to approach it. There was some sort of script on the top, written in a language Leoned could not read. He hesitated, but there was only one step left. Leoned pushed on the stone lid of the casket, and it fell off with a ‘BOOM’. And there lay The Great Hunter, in fine green robes, and a spear on his chest. Leoned touched the blade. It appeared to be made of glass. But as he ran his fingers across the surface, ripples were sent out like upon the surface of a pool. When he pressed his fingertips into it he thought they might break. The material was stronger than any that Leoned had ever felt. When he removed it from its former master's grip, a small spark of white light appeared in the center of it’s blade. He waved it around, and began to perform techniques Eorl had shown him. The sound of thunder claps rang throughout the burial chamber as the spear seemed to cut through the very air itself. Leoned stared at Eorl.
“You must take it.” he said, stretching out his arms to hand it to Eorl.
“What do you mean?”, Eorl asked. He seemed almost insulted.
“I am not worthy of this. It belonged to the master of your order, to a warrior, it should go to you.” Leoned stepped closer to him. Eorl took the shaft of the spear, and pressed it against Leoned. Then kneeling down, Eorl took his shoulder and said,
“On behalf of the order, I Eorl, bestow upon you the title of knighthood in service of the Great Hunter.” Tears sprang into Leoned’s eyes. “May his name be revealed to you, and bless the path you forge in his honor.” And as his lips began to form the word, the mountain trembled. And Leoned was sucked back into the nightmare, hearing the same roar. A shadow covered the light that had shone over the casket. The spark in the spear was all that allowed them to see. Another tremble and the tomb began to collapse. “RUN!” cried Eorl. They began to bolt for the exit. Rocks the size of full grown men rained down on them. And Eorl’s wounds were slowing him down. He couldn’t avoid the one that crushed his legs. He screamed in pain and Leoned dropped the spear and ran to his aid. As the weapon clattered on the stone floor, the shaking stopped. The sound of great wings slowly faded, and sunlight flooded the chamber once more.
“Eorl! Quickly we have to push!” Leoned threw his body fruitlessly against the boulder lying on top of his friend. The stone wouldn’t budge. Tears streamed down Leoned’s face as his body fell in a heap next to Eorl. He felt a touch against the hands that covered his eyes. Eorl was holding them. He brought Leoned in close, and as Eorl whispered the word into his ear a calming breeze somehow flowed through the cave tousling their hair, seemingly in response to it being spoken. With that Leoned lifted his head and looked down upon his friend.
“When you face your quarry, say his name.” A single tear ran down Eorl’s face. But once again Leoned saw it beaming with pride. And as the beautiful sorrow left the deep pools of green, leaving them empty, such was the face Leoned would forever remember his friend by. And he wept.
Leoned exited the tomb, still burdened with grief. The garden was in ruins. And as Leoned took in the devastation, he was reminded of his quest. A knight would not allow such tragedy to get in the way of his duties. He sprinted down the mountain pass and found Smoke still there. There was no horse as loyal as he. Leoned mounted Smoke. Peering into the night he could see orange light illuminating smoke all over the forest. With a “HYAA!”, he stirred Smoke into a full gallop. His heart pounded. With two spears of his fallen brothers in arms strapped to his back, he had never felt such righteous fury. Heading straight for the roaring fires that were lit deep in the woods, Leoned followed the signs that would lead to his quarry.
Five more days passed. Leoned found himself once again at the gate where he began his journey. It’s charred remains still smoldered. He was close. Urging Smoke onward, he could hear it’s roar again coming down from the mountains. But he was not afraid this time. He could see its shape on the horizon as the morning sun rose. No smoke lifted yet from Tillerhoft. But bells of alarm tolled and could be heard across the valley. Leoned had to reach the city before the beast. He rode harder now more than he ever had. But the dragon’s great wings lent it great speed. Faster than any winged beast or the very swiftest of riders. Leoned could not make it.
It was nearly midday when Leoned reached the city. The dragon had beaten him by little more than half an hour. Fires were blazing, and he could see massive claws wrapped around one of the towers of the keep. He had little time. Entering the North gate, Leoned dismounted and ran to the top of one of the highest towers along the wall. Smoke hung over the city and Leoned could not see anything below. He had only one move left to make.
“RHOVIN!” The name of The Great Hunter rang out. Some form of magic amplified his Leoned’s speech as the name boomed, seeming just as loud as the creature’s roar. Slowly, out of the smoke rose it’s head, covered in green scales with two horns protruding from them. Its neck and body followed. It spread its wings, which seemed to span much wider than the castle. And with a WHOOSH it began to rise into the air. One flap and all the smoke cleared. Quickly Leoned observed that fire would not be his only issue. The dragon had four legs, and at the tips of each of its fingers it had long, sharp talons. As it faced Leoned it once again let out its roar and swooped towards the tower, crashing into it and causing it to collapse. Leoned leapt from the window and grabbed the beast's tail as it soared by. It landed in the market square and whipped Leoned into one of the stands. Leoned rose holding his side, only to see the dragon preparing to burn him alive. As the flames roared Leoned brought forth his new weapon. When he opened his eyes he was unharmed. Scorch marks singed the stone around him forming a triangle, and at it’s tip was where Leoned had thrown the spear in front of him. The spark of light in it’s blade seemed to hum with life. Leoned smiled and pointed the spear towards his quarry. One legend facing the other. The beast roared with fury and lashed out with its claws. Leoned, twirling the spear, batted them away. The dragon recoiled at his defense. Leoned pressed his advantage and charged. The dragon’s large maw lunged forth. Leoned rolled forward narrowly dodging its rows of fangs. Now below his enemy he thrusted the spear upward into its belly. The beast shrieked and agony, and Leoned had to run to void being crushed as it collapsed.
Leoned waved away at the screen of dust, coughing. When it cleared, he could not believe his eyes. The dragon lay there, pools of blooded streaming from its underside. Its eyes were closed and it breathed heavily. Leoned approached it. Standing next to its head, Leoned could not help but feel saddened by the sight of a creature so great brought so low. Its eye opened. It peered at Leoned. But he could no longer detect any malice in its gaze. Only sorrow. But now he saw it in deep pools of gold. He held out his hand, and rested it against its smooth scales as the creature continued with its labored breathing. Its eye shut once more. And with its final breath, it heaved a great sigh that sounded full of relief. And to Leoneds amazement, the creature began to evaporate into a flurry of sparks that rose lazily into the air like the seeds of a dandelion, and then quickly turned into a black powder. And as the flakes of ashes fell Leoned understood Eorl’s words. And once again, he wept.