Kingdoms of Ohm: The Lonely Dragon #1 ✓

Submission

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It was fear that awakened my soul that dark and despicable night. The fear of a dream.

A dream of romance and sacrifice. Of dragon blood and tears.

A dream of promises. A dream of sorrow.

And a dream of the love of my life, Nayre.

I remember sharing it with her, because it felt far more real than a token memory. Precious and fruitful, it became the single sign that our lives were all so clear. For a time it seemed too good of a reason to celebrate over.

I just never imagined it would turn into a nightmare.

Now, most of you, fair readers, would consider your memories sacred. Each one tells a different story, and drives your lives into worlds you could only dream of. Likewise, the memory I carry of that speckled morning was the first of many conversations over our struggles against loyalty. But, in more ways than one, it was a drive into the life we could share together, that is, when our time runs short. An age when dragonets aplenty ran wild around us, listening to our stories, sharing their secrets together, hunting as a family, and loving one another.

Oh how I miss it...

But now that wonderful future of ours is all gone. Because I wasn't strong enough to fight when Az'hark needed me most.

Because I died... right in front of her...

Now I was here... though I didn't know where 'here' was.

The first thing I noticed was the stiffness of my body. Aside from the cold undergrowth of this massive forest, massive green vines now curled around every limb -- claws, hindlegs, tail, even my snout. The tightened knots at their base kept me locked upon the earth, no matter how hard I struggled to move.

What is this?

I snarled, straining to open my jaws, only for them to slam shut instantly. My tail could only bend from right to left, the spear-tip trapped around a string of green tied to the wooden base of a fallen pine.

I then noticed something else -- my gear was missing. I had been stripped clean to the bare flesh, and the dented armor that made me knightly was now lying on the far right end of a dark clearing, tucked away under the misted shadows of this nightmarish place.

And, speaking of this place...

Jorryn, as I now recognized it to be (due to the undeniable scent of pinewood) was far scarier on the ground than from the skies above. It was so deathly quiet here, and still. Had I really tried, my thoughts alone could garner an echo here. Nothing rustled. Nothing breathed. Nothing spoke for all time sake. For just a second I believed that every cricket in the world had perished, too, or, perhaps, gained the knowledge to shy away from a ripe opportunity to seek a mate. The trees didn't rustle either, and, like black torches, they pointed the sharpest tips of their ragged spears toward the stars, awaiting a much-needed impalement.

Despite the ability to seek prey in the dark, I wasn't able to see any further than the nearest line of trees to my right and left. Below, soft wisps of ancient fog gathered beneath the hazy claws of barren branches, offering an sinister ambience across the meadow-like clearing. Even the moon itself, now a half halo stuck in the sky, managed to do so little for the sake of both eyes, just enough to illuminate the edges of every fragment of nature now on display. It looked to be the beginning of a nightmare.

It only worsened the second those mammals began approaching me from all sides.

Their sour, musky scent was undeniable to that of any hair-bearing creature, though the dark yellow glimmer in their eyes made my stomach writhe with fear. They were massive, nearly two-thirds the size of my body, and their furry black spines arched upward to display their fearlessness to me. My heart quaked as these wolf-like creatures made their way to me, hissing and snarling as they inhaled my scent and investigated me with interest.