P.S. As always, tell me what I should fix in it. Like if there seems to be too much talking.
“Three hundred men from the Northern Reach, my lord!” A man shouted up at the newly crowned king of Dagor. The army marched past.
“One hundred and fifty from the Western mountains!”
“Five hundred from the North-East caverns!”
Cedrik squirmed. How many hours would this last?
“One thousand from the Eastern Wild!”
He straightened. That was the largest group yet.
“You know, Cedrik, you could at least acknowledge the generals.” Ben whispered telepathically to him. Cedrik jumped. “I’m not used to this, Ben. It’s only the second day since I’ve become king. I’m glad that you’re my prime advisor, or I’d get everything wrong.”
“Unfortunately, that is probably true.” Ben smirked.
“Are you getting tired, Grere?” Cedrik asked.
“Not really. But all this gathering is getting on my nerves. Especially the nerves that tell me we need to do something.”
“How many so far, Sir…” Cedrik asked while looking over at the other dragon. Was it John?
“Jones, sire. And there are…” He fiddled with his paper and pen. He looked up with dread in his eyes. “Three thousand nine hundred.”
We’re not going to survive tonight. Cedrik thought. He could see Grere shift his head uncomfortably.
“We may not. But if we cannot survive, let us make a last stand that is worthy of remembrance.” Greer growled.
“Ben, what about the country of Nahor? Would they help us?”
“No, not if they could help it. Although, there is a small chance…”
Cedrik straightened. “What?”
“I was wondering if my friend in Nimunel’s army was still alive.”
“The country of moving islands. They would help us. They fear us because they betrayed Dagor in the war between continents.”
“Why would they help us, if they betrayed us?”
“Because they swore an oath to help us when the king of Dagor called, but they vanished along with their islands, when your father called. They are somewhere out there, in the sea. Going to the ends of the earth to avoid us.”
“How far is the ends of the earth?”
“I don’t know. They would be our only hope. My friend was small in rank, but he may have advanced by now. He would help Dagor.”
“I’m going. Now. Take over, you do better than me at this ‘king’ stuff anyway.”
He smiled, and turned to Jones.
“Jones? I’m calling for aid.”
“To who, sire?” he asked suspiciously. He shifted in his seat.
“An old friend. He would be our only hope now.” He looked to the east. The sea.
Grere landed and Cedrik slid off. He ran to his room, which was now in the palace. He went to the only empty corner, grabbed his sword and strapped it onto his shoulder. After a second of hesitation, he picked up his new dagger that was worn by all the previous kings of Dagor. He grimaced as he remembered that he had promised Jones to wear it hidden wherever he went, as a protection from assassin attempts.
He saw a bow and a sheath of arrows on the wall, hanging. He reached up and pulled it down. He didn’t know how to use these, but he’d have to learn eventually. He plucked the bow string experimentally.
“Cedrik, hurry up! We don’t have that much time to go and get back fast enough.” Grere interrupted.
“Sure. Hey, you don’t know how far it is!”
He took the sheath of arrows, and put it over his shoulder.
“No. But at the rate you are taking to get things, it will take forever!
“Are you hungry?”
“I can eat on the way.”
“What will you eat?
“Fish. Hurry up!”
He found his small pack, filled it with dried meat and some gray bread that was the staple in Dagor. What was it called? Oh yeah, Kyitin.
He sprinted outside, and found a dark green mound of scales on the cobblestone. “Grere,” he sighed, “get up!”
Grere yawned. “I was just taking a nap. You were taking so long.” He stumbled to his claws and Cedrik climbed up. “You really want to be prepared, don’t you?” He said as he craned his neck and looked over Cedrik’s gear.
“Yeah, sure. Let’s get going already!”
He launched into the clear cold air, and set his course for east, in general. Cedrik fell asleep within two hours.
“Cedrik. Wake up. I found something.”
Cedrik clawed at his eyes, forcing himself to wake up. When he opened them, he saw
the ocean, and small desert island, with a hill. It was moving towards them, against the current.
“What in Dagor is that?”
“Possibly what we are looking for.”
Grere landed on it, let Cedrik get off, and collapsed to the ground. Cedrik set up camp for the night, while Grere rested. Night came on A flash of lightning announced a coming downpour. Cedrik instinctively cringed. He started a fire, and leaned against a rock.
“Don’t look, but there are a couple people behind you. I saw them when the lightning flashed behind them.
The hairs on his neck stood up. Suddenly there was a point in his back. It felt like an arrow.
“Stand up slowly, and we might not kill you.” A young voice told him.
He stood up. Grere watched him.
“Oh, and if you think your dragon can save you, think again. Turn around.”
He turned around, and stepped back. “Come into the light.” He said questioningly, not daring to move a muscle. A blonde haired girl about fourteen years old came out of the brush, dressed like an agile archer complete with bow and dozens of arrows. A boy Cedrik’s age came out of the sage brush, also dressed like an archer.
“What on earth are you doing here?” The boy asked. He was dressed in brown and tan, probably meant to camouflage with the desert.
“I could say the same for you two.”
They circled him, obviously checking for weapons. They in turn told him things like, “Put down your sword,” or “give me your bow.” This went on for several minutes, and Grere was just sitting in the same spot. Giving Cedrik advice, silently.
“Stare at them. Act bigger than you are, but not that much. Make them fear you.”
“You know, if one of them wasn’t a girl, I’d like you to roast them alive.”
“I would have already done so. You want me to try roasting the boy?”
Cedrik looked at the arrows in the bows. Just waiting to be fired.
“I don’t think that would be wise.”
There seemed to be a signal that passed between the three, and the blonde girl flipped up onto Grere’s neck, stretched her bow, and pointed it at Grere’s head.
“One wrong move and he is dead.” She said confidently.
“She’s gaining ground. Don’t let her have it. She is the superior of the two. She cares for the boy. The boy has a trigger finger. Use that to your advantage. Show them what you’ve got. Use your blade Jones gave you.”
Cedrik looked around coolly. In a quick moment, he dived to the ground, yanked out his dagger from it’s boot sheath, flipped it around, all while rolling towards the boy. He was dimly aware that the boy and girl were shooting arrow after arrow into the sand, where he was less than a second ago. He leapt to his feet behind the boy and put the sharp edge of his dagger in front of his neck.
“One wrong move and he is dead.”
“Stalemate. Very nicely played, kid.” The boy said.
“Show some respect to your king!” Cedrik told him.
“King of what? You’d have to be king of Dagor to be over us.”
Cedrik was about to say, “I am,” but before he could, Grere told him not to. Save it for later, he said.
“Grere, she is looking at me. Use the advantage before she focuses on you again.”
The green dragon’s head snaked around to get her off his back. He succeeded, but only for half a second. She jumped over the dragon’s neck and resumed her stance of getting ready to kill him.
“Take me to your leader, and I’ll let him go.”
She hesitated a couple seconds, and said;