The Wings Of A Dragon

Chapter One

Lainathion gazed at the rolling waves of the dark sea. Captivated by their beauty, the young Elven male deeply inhaled the aroma of salty water mixed with the fresh night air. He closed his eyes. Allowing all the concerns and worries to slip out of mind, he savored the serenity of the moment. After a spell, he slowly opened his eyes. Dusk was falling fast. The light of a full moon beamed radiantly upon the earth. Lainathion sighed. The secluded walk had helped to ease his troubled mind, but alas, the moment had come to an end. The memories of what Lainathion had seen in the villages earlier flooded abruptly back into his mind. His father had told the young soldier not to allow himself to be troubled by this, but Lainathion could not wrench the feeling of uneasiness he sensed when he thought about it. How is this possible? He continuously asked himself. Are men so self absorbed and oblivious to realize they are killing an entire race of creatures? Or do they not care? Lainathion had asked himself these questions for hours, but still no answer came to him. He finally shook his head and turned away. The matter was hard for him to comprehend and he felt frustrated when he tried. He started his descent back to the Elven Kingdom of Starlight Vale. As he neared, he heard the sound of beautiful Elven voices harmoniously singing. Usually the sound captivated him, but this night he listened despairingly to the happy voices. For the first time in his life, he thought remorsefully of how foolish they seemed. He held his head high, but in his heart he felt downcast as he entered into the cheerful home of the Starlight Elves and went into his room. 

Lainathion slowly opened his bright eyes. The room was dark but Lainathion could see traces of light peeking out from the shade covering a large window. Standing up, he walked across the room and lifted the shade. Rays of sunlight poured into the large room. Lainathion blinked and looked outside. The day was warm and pleasant. Young Elven maidens ran gracefully about and Elven soldiers strode through the streets of the kingdom. Even the animals were in harmony with the world. A gentle breeze floated into the room, lifting Lainathion's dark hair from his fair face. Lainathion delighted in the sight of his tranquil home, and smiled as he continued to look upon the world. He was renewed after the soothing night's sleep and felt determined that he would be able to make a difference in the world.                                                                                                      

Stepping away from the window, he quickly dressed in the traditional attire of his people. Striding out of his room, he walked down the halls of the kingdom. Beautiful paintings and elegantly carved ornaments hung from either side of the wondrously illustrated walls, but Lainathion did not pay regard to them today. As he made his way to a large dining room at the end of the long hallway, he thought about all the had happened the previous day.                                  

Lainathion finally arrived at a large room. Same as the the other rooms, this one was passionately adorned with gorgeous furnishings. He made his way into the room and took a seat at the large wooden table next to his father. Lainathion absentmindedly traced the carvings on the primeval table as he listened to the others converse around him. His finger suddenly stopped on a sculpture of a curious creature. Leaning forward, Lainathion peered at it closer. This carving was unlike one he had seen before. He had spent many hours observing the ancient carvings on the tablet, for every single one told a different story, although he had not perceived this one until now. It portrayed a young lad, not more than his age, holding an open hand to a dragon, than another carving showed him sitting on a dragon's back. It was carved in astounding detail- each characteristic of the sculpture was so vivid it appeared to be real. Lainathion peered at it with disbelief. The dragon was not chained or bound, as he had seen done in the villages of men, rather it was free. It did not appear fierce or savage, but seemed gentle and benevolent. Although he found it fascinating, this was not the part that astonished him the most. The part he found most profound was the lad represented in the carving. Although he had envisioned men on the backs of dragons before, he deemed it a fantasy and not conceivable. He had never seen a depiction of such an image before. Still in disbelief, he took a deep breath. If it were not possible to tame such a beast, why would it be in such a magnificent carving? He wondered to himself.

Suddenly, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Turning around quickly, he saw his father. 

Vehiron spoke. "You are not in your usually spirit this morning. Do you continue to be troubled?" His father asked. 

Lainathion contemplated how he should answer. "In a way." He simply said. 

Vehiron shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. He finally opened them and spoke. "As I have told you, do not trouble yourself with such matters. Although we may not always agree with the actions of men, enslaving the dragons is their choice. We will not take action over a matter such as this." 

Lainathion looked troubled and spoke with a hint of frustration in his voice. "The dragons are dying! Their race is diminishing and before long, they will be no more than a memory!" 

His father sighed. "Although you may wish the race of dragons to be existent, you must understand there are others that do not share the same emotions. The dragons have not troubled us in the refuge of our Valley, although many villages of men have been destroyed by dragon-fire." 

Lainathion looked down. His father continued. "You are still young, do not fear, you will understand some day. For now, let us appreciate this day and the meal before us!" Vehiron turned away. 

Lainathion closed his eyes and took heed of what his father had said. The sound of the Elves joyful feast became oblivious to him as he sat quietly- deep in thought. Lainathion peered at the carving one last time. He shook his head. If these beasts are threatening and treacherous, then why is there an explicit depiction of a gentle one on an ancient Elven monument?

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