Tal’on was being assaulted from
all sides on the battlefield. Sandcor troops surrounded him. They were doing
their best to overwhelm the young dragon with numbers, because it was obvious their
weapons were of little use to them. The ground shook beneath the dragon’s feet
with the explosions of their extensive arsenal. Smoke and dirt was thick enough
in the air it made it difficult to breathe.
Tal’on was fighting one of the
most violent battles of his short career with the Valdare. The Sandcor were
making a final stand in the valley before the canyon, which led into their capital.
They were determined to stop the monster once and for all. They charged at Tal’on
as he fought tooth and claw against them. A swipe of his paw and three men fell
before him. A sweep of his wing and several more challengers were knocked to
the ground. He was relentless as the Sandcor continued to pile up on him. They
had formed a battle line against the Valdare, so they could not assist their ‘number
one’ weapon, Tal’on.
Tal’on readied his fire glands,
but the Sandcor had met him in battle before. They knew about his fire
breathing ability and they were ready this time. They launched several heavy
metal nets at his head. One fell short, one Tal’on swiped out of the air, but
the third, from behind him, fell over his head. Brave Sandcor soldiers rushed
forward and grabbed the lines from the net pulling Tal’on’s head down. Before
he could resist his muzzle was wrapped and sealed shut.
As hard as Tal’on fought there
were too many of the Sandcor. They swarmed over him like ants over a dead carcass.
Lines were thrown over him and the ends staked down, pinning him to the ground.
It was at this point that Graf’tal,
Ere’lee, Bel’lar, Cras’mul and Haf’nad appeared at the edge of the battlefield.
The five dragons were all old enough, and well traveled enough, to know what
humans were and recognize what was happening.
They saw what they could hardly
recognize as Tal’on in the middle of the field. Over his long absence from his
kin he had not only experienced stasis, he had also matured into a full grown
dragon. But, he was a dragon in trouble.
The five older dragons did not
know the difference between Valdare and Sandcor. They only knew they had
finally found Tal’on and they intended to take him home. With fire, claws and
teeth they barged into the battle to free the young dragon. They killed
everyone who came between the youngling and them.
Tal’on saw his fellow dragons and
would have called to them except his muzzle was sealed shut with the net
tightly wrapped around it. His eyes filled with grateful tears as he saw Graf’tal
level a path to his side. His huge paws and wings took out lines of both
Valdare and Sandcor troops as he bullied his way to his youngling’s side.
Graf’tal was the first to reach
Tal’on. His massive claws sliced through the ropes that held Tal’on to the
ground. He plowed through the Sandcor hanging from the lines holding the net in
place over the young dragon’s head. He freed his head of the net with
strategically placed tooth and claw. Graf’tal did not know the collar Tal’on wore
was not part of the enemy’s restraint, so he took his massive, wickedly sharp
claws, hooked them under the collar and slit it in two. Tal’on had not even
tried to do this for fear of it exploding or the Prime taking vengeance on
Delevy if he tried. Now it was done in a moment with no turning back.
“We must go,” Graf’tal called to
Tal’on. “We will jump with you.” Graf’tal roared to the other dragons to
follow. “Jump.”
Tal’on shook his head even as he
reached out to kill yet another Sandcor who still chose battle over retreat.
“I can’t,” he told his Great. “There
is someone here I must see safely free first.”
“Where are they?” Graf’tal asked,
as he stood among the many dead and dying troops.
The other dragons had wreaked
havoc while Graf’tal freed his youngling. The battlefield ran red with the
blood of both Valdare and Sandcor.
“Not far,” Tal’on said. “We can
fly there in less time than it would take to get from the nest site to the
shore at home.
“Then we can jump even quicker,”
Graf’tal answered. “We are leaving,” he called to the other dragons. “Tal’on
will lead.”
“I haven’t jumped since I saw you
last,” Tal’on said hesitantly. “I am not sure I can.”
“Of course you can,” Graf’tal
scoffed. “You were one of my best jumping students.”
He placed a reassuring wing over
Tal’on’s battered scales. The youngling was a mess even though he wore some
type of protective gear over his torso.
“Think of the place where you
want to be,” he coached. “Picture it and we will follow.”
“I don’t want to get lost again.”
Tal’on could almost hear the fear
in his own voice. He finally had his Great once more at his side. He was going
to go home. He was going to be able to leave this wretched place. He didn’t
want to misstep.
“I won’t let you, my son,” Graf’tal
said. “I am here, at your side. Nothing will separate us again.”
Tal’on swallowed the lump in his
throat. He pictured the courtyard at the top of the steps which led to the cell
below holding Delevy and he jumped.
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