Scratch

i started writing a book and so far how much i've done is here:
Chapter 1

Rotan, Dagon, The dragon, Atarus, Castor, Ounan and Arabath.

Rotan
If you had been there that night you may have noticed the moon briefly blocked by huge red wings. And as they sped up, you may have felt their beating bring a welcome breeze upon your face. You may have even seen some drops of red fall like a spring shower. If your eyes were really sharp, you may have noticed the crossbow bolt in the beast’s scales. From below, herding his camels back to the village after a long trip taking them to the oasis, Rotan Garianson, a youth of a mere sixteen years, pushed back his black hair from his eyes and watched with wonder. Some drops of dragon blood landed on his forehead, but Rotan did not notice.

Dagon
Although he had been riding for three hours and was drenched with sweat, Dagon D’urotar felt the adrenalin of the hunt, and pleasure in the kill that was to come. The chief of dragon slayers spurred his horse on, startling the young camel herder as he thundered past.

The beast above was going to be his last target. The dragon’s wings were flapping more wildly as Dagon shot a second bolt. It struck home, making the great creature start to fall, and made it hit the ground sending up sand. He rode towards the site of its crash, took out his hunting horn and blew.


*************
The dragon
The first bolt has left me flapping fast, and the second is making me decend. My hatchlings! The TwoLegs have killed too many dragons that now they cannot be trusted!

I will not let my hatchlings die today. I rise from the crater made by my fall and see twenty TwoLeg RoundEars charge at me from atop horses. I roar and three of the horses lift their legs as if to kick me but throw their riders off and run. Behind the first row of slayers ten archers are firing arrows towards me. Eight find their way through my scales and i roar once more in pain. But this will not stop me.

Then i see a figure above the rest. He wears the leather armor of the slayers but it has ripped on his arms legs and torso. His skin is blood red and his eyes are yellow. Great wings sprout from his back and he decends, then lifts his head up as if to shout. But no voice comes out. Instead a jet of fire flies fifty feet into the sky. He is well muscular with short cropped black hair the color of shadows, the color of his heart.

The TwoLeg RoundEars would use our gift against us! I can see the souls of many dragons trapped within his body. But my hearts blood is still within me-

My Hearts Blood! Its Gone! But these puny humans did not take it. It fell from the bolt and at least none will gain it. The hearts blood contains my soul, and if it were to be drunk i would be trapped within the drinker. My power would go to him. The dragon hunters always take the minds blood if they cannot take the hearts blood, and the hearts blood is only powerfull at my age. My power is not going to them!

The thought gives me strength. This man, Dagon, has many spirits within him. If i could just slay him they would be free-

Dagon flaps his wings and flies towards me, while the slayers fire arrows at me. I fly out of range of the arrows, but not Dagon. but then i see two more HalfFlames, one blue and one green, flying up to my level with Dagon. They attack me in unison, each using tactics and teamwork. The blue skinned one jumps on my back and stabs me with his sword, while the green skinned one is swinging his blade at me. I see Dagon then, as he jumps onto my snout and drives his dragon blood oiled blade through my head and into my brain. I feel no pain but i cast one last spell. VanVara! I yell with my mind. Thirteen eggs erupt from the sand and fly in all directions. My hatchlings will live to see the morning.

Atarus
I scream with my thoughts, Mother? But all is silent. I am but a hatchling, inside an egg. The egg is moving, and moving fast. I can sense the thoughts of my kin, and I had been like that from the moment I was born. I could also feel what they their emotions and what they are feeling. I had the emotion for a few seconds of twenty one beings greed and my mother’s pain. I felt the life slip out of her just after I heard one last message. You will be safe, my hatchling. I cannot cry, I cannot even move. I simply feel. And now I felt misery. How could life go on like this? Seventeen of the thirty brothers and sisters of mine have been slaughtered, their eggs broken for ornaments and armor, sometimes even spoons! Twoleg Roundears have hunted our race to extinction, and now the last female adult dragon is dead! Dead! There were only a few hundred people who cared about the dragon lives, the TwoLeg FlatEars or as the TwoLeg RoundEars call them, the elves. Now they have almost been hunted too!

I feel a thud as my egg lands on earth and cracks. The cracks crack some more until the egg is broken. White liquid falls out and so do I. I have been in the egg for ninety nine years now, just old enough to survive if the egg breaks. My scales are white against the snow of the mountain top, but they will get color in time. My egg is the size of an ostrich egg, large. Its color is red and its many fragments have made it usable to the humans, who have trouble breaking them. Mine dropped from a high altitude, breaking from the force of the landing. My instincts kick in as I scour the area for food. I must leave this area quickly, for the first RoundEar to find it will surely alert his friends. Then this place will not be safe for me. I lift my head and sniff. Rabbit, with a hint of fox. It seems that this is a competition for the prey. Even if the fox reached it first, I am half the size of a large dog. I could just eat the fox, but bad experiences with other dragons eating foxes told me it would not suffice.

Dragons see things differently to any TwoLeg or animal. Daylight folds in a wave of green beams, while shadows are a mix of grey and white. I focus, concentrate. The rabbit I cannot see, for it seems to look the same as the rest of the earth. But the blood within it I can see clearly, an assortment of veins that glow bright orange. I sneak around, hiding in the bushes while the rabbit chews on a stem of grass. I feel the thrill of the hunt with every step I take. The hare munches unaware of the dragon stalking it. My paws pat softly on the snow and it cushions them, preventing noise. Then I charge.

I pounce, and my teeth meet bone upon its neck. Then I see the fox. It growls weakly and I sense its hunger. Out of pity I rip off three of the rabbit’s feet and toss them towards it. He grabs them and runs off. The rest I eat, and I am satisfied. Now I scour the area.

Now is the time for exploring. Dragon ears are sharper than any creature’s. I listen and hear what appear to be the footsteps of a TwoLeg RoundEar boot. A small set. I Jump round just in time to see a TwoLeg RoundEar child of around fourteen walk out of the bushes. He has smooth black hair and holds a sword, with a bow slung on his back. He freezes when he sees me. Then he looks at the fragments. I realize, as if some unknown part of my consciousness is telling me, that this RoundEar is not a threat. I feel his thoughts. I try to speak, but can only make low grunts. Then I think the words and imagine them going into his mind. Only highly experienced and powerful dragons can mind speak. My mother tells me that none can read minds. But I am an exception. I try to speak them into his head.

Friend.

You can speak to me. His voice has surprise and calm in it at the same time.

Then he thinks of what to reply. It comes into my mind immediately.

I trust you.

I feel this sensation as if I must trust him. I do. And he trusts me.

*************
Castor

Castor was a boy of fourteen years old with uneven black hair. He had been sent hunting thrice a month since winter started and his father named him old enough to hunt. He had hunted there for rabbits every day. But today he found something else.

He followed the same track as always, going up the mountainside until he found the area. There used to be a farm there but it was abandoned for an unknown reason. Whatever the reason, the grass and plants reproduced on their own, so this area was a haven for rabbits. He had hunted three so far and left them near an oak tree to collect later. He walked fifty meters from the ruined farmhouse, now with the window frames smashed by storms. The floorboards were creaking constantly. He found a fragment of a white egg, very large. He tested its toughness, and despite being half a centimeter thin it withstood his most savage blows from the sword. Thus he pocketed the egg fragments, searching for the creature that was once in it. He had not far to look.

The white dragon was seen almost immediately, just before it saw him. Normally in the wild, or so he was told, a dragon would kill everything in a span of fifty meters and mark it as his territory, then expand it as he grew. Yarst the village bard had dismissed this as a rumor, but people would still shoot a dragon on sight with a bow to stop its so called killing spree. But Castor realized that this was a harmless, what did people say a baby dragon was called? A hatchling. Yes, A hatchling.

The hatchling grunted out a series of noises, clearly trying to speak. Then a word echoed in Castor’s head.

Friend.

You can speak to me. Castor replied that in voice, the realized it could read his thoughts. He felt a sensation that he should trust this dragon. He sent a mental message back.

I trust you.

Castor approached the hatchling that in turn jumped into his arms. He was half the size of a large dog but Castor managed to pick him up. He carried the hatchling to the ruined barn. Castor was expected to camp in the mountain for three days in order to get the most prey. He had time. This was still day one.
He went to the oak tree where he left two rabbits and picked them up. He took them to the farm and skinned them, long tire full work which took up most of his energy and three hours of his time. When he was done he tied the fur together and made a small hammock, positioning wrecked furniture as steps so the dragon could climb up to the farm. Nobody but Castor visited the farm, so it was safe. The hatchling climbed up them and got into the Hammock. He seemed to smile and a mental message came to Castor.

Thank you.

What is your name? Asked Castor.

The dragon thought for a moment. Name me, it said.

Castor looked into the scales of the dragon, seeing himself in a reflection.

I name you Atarus, he said. The looking glass.

Atarus gave a purr of satisfaction and appeared to smile.

Atarus, the dragon repeated in his mind.

Castor stayed in the farm for two more days, hanging more fur over the windows and cracks in the door to keep out the cold, and cut away a small section and reattached it with string to create a flap. Atarus would survive.

Castor arived at his home village of Guriun with a sack of only eight rabbits at around eight in the evening. He walked across the village roads until he reached a farmhouse on the far side of Guriun. The sign above it read: UtrasSon Farm. His father had been a farmer, son of Utras and everyone respected him for without Utras the village would starve. His fields covered up one fifth of Guriun yet he fed half the village with those crops.

Castor walked through the door to find his elder brother Ounan waiting for him. He smiled a warm welcoming smile. Ounan had black hair that came down to his shoulders, a strong muscular body and helped out at the farm. He was nineteen, five years older than Castor and he did his hunting in the forest for deer. Well, the mighty hunter returns! He joked. Castor passed him the sack. Castor walked up the stairs and saw his bed, a large heap of straw covered in a casing. He leaped up onto it and fell to sleep almost instantly.

Castor never knew his mother. It was said that she died at his birth, and his father had to look after both Ounan and him. He had a fairly normal life of any farmer, where at the age of seven you begin farmwork and at the age of thirteen you start hunting for your family. Guriun was a vast nest of traders who came in and out, each bringing goods and leaving with goods. Guriun was a fairly normal village.

The next morning Castor went to the village bard Yurst. He found Yurst at the tavern, where they made polite introductions to each other. Yurst was a man in his fourties, slender and athletic with a mop of black hair that rested upon his head and stopped at the back of the neck. What do you know about dragons? Castor asked. Its not safe to talk here, he said, gesturing to a group of people on the corner table. Castor had barely noticed them, but their faces were hidden and they wore completely black. Follow me. Yurst exited his table, leaving a full pitch of mead upon the table, handed the barman some money and walked out.

Castor followed Yurst to his house in the middle of the village. Inside Yurst bolted the door and made sure that the curtains were drawn, then lit a candle. Who were those men at the tavern? Castor couldn't stop himself asking. Dragon slayers, Yurst said grimly. Now what was it you wanted to know? I will start with three simple topics. Where do the dragons come from, why they are hunted, and what makes them so strong. I will start with the third.

Dragons are supposed to grow at a full mature hight of a small hill, but they never stop growing. They can breathe fire at eight months old, and take at least two thousand years to mature, although they grow fast in the first ten years. They know how to cast a spell without uttering a word. The first gods were Dragons! A dragon that is at least thirty thousand years old will go into a deep sleep, awakening once every thousand years to feed. These ones are known as High Dragons. A high dragon can mimic a mountain or, if it is waking, an erupting volcano. A high dragon of five hundred thousand years is said to be the continent of Khrun. The longer a high dragon has lived, the longer it sleeps. They say that our own continent is a high dragon! They can also speak in peoples minds, placing words or even thoughts and ideas into a person's head. The goddess Urat was originaly the high dragon that makes up our continent, who wispered in peoples minds seeing all that was happening in this land.
Now for the second i named. Yurst took a sip of a cup of tea. Why are you telling me all this? Castor broke the silence. Because i have watched you in the mountains, said Yurst. You and the hatchling Atarus. He is very dear to you, is he not?

He is, said Castor. Then i will tell no one. But i will tell you this. Ten years ago a traveling shaman told me a prophecy. It is your legacy to bear it.

Thirteen mages upon Thirteen dragons.
Twelve upon life, one upon death.
Ten to return, two to be lost.
One of white and one of black,
each the mirror of the other.
Fear to brave, hope to desire,
The mirror will shatter.
The lost to be found,
The found to be lost.
The life drinker and the life seer,
each the opposite of the other.
Three to see death, one to see none.
To fire or ice the world will fall,
to death or life the world will rise.

I know not what this means, said Yurst, but i believe that you are one of the thirteen. But i am no mage or wizard! Castor protested. In time you may become one. Now may i continue? Yurst asked. Certainly, replied Castor.

The dragons are hunted because people believe them to be savage murdering beasts. This is not true. Even a high dragon would not harm a human bieng or human property. And now for the first.

Dragons are as old as time itself. They are they only creatures native to this land. They are supposed to have come when a high dragon came here and trapped its spirit within itself, appearing dead but not bieng able to move, yet still influence the land. This high dragon is the goddess Urat, who created the mountains with magic and grew trees with magic. She released her own blood to create rivers and streams. Then she called to the other dragons with her mind, and the many races as well as animals from all over the world. They came and she had hoped that the land she made from her own body would make peace between the races. Alas it was not to be, and the goddess cannot pass on to the afterlife before we forget our diffirences with the dragons.
Now should you not have been sent on hunting duty?

Castor remembered suddenly. Thanks Yurst! He shouted and ran to the mountains with sword and bow.

Ounan
Ounan had tried to disguise what had happened in the forest that day when he went out hunting as well, and believed he had succeeded. It had happened six days ago, when he was sent hunting. He was sent in periods of Six days unlike his brother Castor who only hunted for three.
Ounan had seen the black egg fragment only after an hour from hearing the tremour and seeing the black stone fall from the sky. He had tried to track it, and soon arived at the sight of the crash. Animals were seen running from that area. Ounan had come with a sword drawn, alert for whatever might have been in it.
Was it sorcery? A stone does not drop out of the sky like that. But when he came near he saw a black figure, one with small wings half the size of a dog. It was covered in scales and was eating a rabbit. It had a small black tail with a spike on the end and two grey horns upom his head, curved like those of a ram. Its teeth were cruelly sharp and its talons were also as cruel. Ounan did not know what this was.
The creature turned its head towards him to show black glass like eyes. Ounan heard a message in his mind.
Who are you RoundEar? It spoke in a deep voice.
I feel as though i know you, trust you, but i cannot be sure. Your kind killed my mother father and seventeen of my brothers and sisters.
Ounan realised it could speak in his mind, so he sent a message back.
I am Ounan UtrasSon, son of Utras and Marian. I saw a black stone fall from the sky.
You saw me.
I also feel as though i should trust you. Why?
It was fate. Fate decided it.

Arabath
I feel my mothers pain as my egg flies into the sky. I am a dragon not yet twelve months but i feel my mothers pain. The RoundEars! My black form within the egg floats in the Yolk, and i crash. My egg hits the ground and makes my head slam against it.
When i am next contious i wake up, seeing the colours of the day for the first time. My instincts take over, and i walk around, finding a rabbit burrow and dive into it. I grab the rabbit below by its teeth, then drag it up. I eat, but my meal is disturbed by a TwoLeg RoundEar. I know that only a few dragons can MindSpeak, but i try anyway.
I speak with my mind.
Who are you RoundEar? I feel as though i know you, trust you, but i cannot be sure. Your kind killed my mother father and seventeen of my brothers and sisters.
The TwoLeg sent messages back.
I am Ounan UtrasSon, son of Utras and Marian. I saw a black stone fall from the sky.
You saw me.
I also feel as though i should trust you. Why?
It was fate. Fate decided it.
I feel this instinct as though i can trust him. The TwoLeg Ounan picks me up and carries me towards a cave. He leaves me outside and goes in first. I scent something, an animal. A sleeping hunter. I try to warn Ounan but he does not listen. So i go in with him.
I feel a link to the cave, and realise why. Since i was born i could feel the life force of everything around me. The TwoLeg RoundEars were going to break my egg but when i realised it instinctively i focused on their life fource. I felt powerful then, and the RoundEars life force i felt getting weaker. I realised what i was doing and released them a few seconds after i started, but i believe that i removed at least half a year from their lives.
Ounan sees the bear and foolishly charges at it with his sword. Despite it just waking up, the bear is strong. It rises onto its hind legs and is about to slay Ounan. I do the only thing i can. I focus on the life of the bear.
Weeks of hibernation supplies burn up in seconds. The bear collapses and Ounan finishes it off. This is a large catch. He turns to me and sends a mental message.
You did that, did you not?
Yes.
Thank you.

Ounan
Ounan started to skin the cave bear. It took him four days in which time with the dragon by his side he hunted several other creatures to feed his family.
The fur of the bear he hung over the cave, and made a bed for the dragon. He also made pillows out of rabbit fur stuffed with leaves and positioned the corpse of the cave bear for the dragon to eat. He felt a close bond to the beast, as if he had lived with it his whole life and not just a few days.
He named the dragon Arabath after a while, as Arabath meant LifeBound in the forgotten language. Soon in the six days he had established a food supply for the dragon, a bed and the bear fur curtain on the door to keep out the cold. For the next few days every time he went hunting the result was that he would bring more and more, the life drinking powers of Arabath taking effect and aiding him. He returned home with a catch larger than he could carry.

Castor
Castor went back up to the farm upon the hill straight away. He was wondering what had happened to Atarus, and hoped that he had survived. When he got there he saw Atarus sleeping, with a rabbit skeleton on the floor of the farm.
Atarus had grown a full foot longer and a third of a foot higher. So what Yurst had said about dragons growing was true, Castor said to himself.
Atarus had woken up as if feeling his presance.
Castor.
Castor greeted Atarus and told him about the prophecy.
I am the white, i know it now. Atarus's voice boomed within Castor's head. You are a chosen rider, chosen by me. I saw, yes i remember. I saw when i was still within the egg, at least six months ago, all in the world. Every living creature, and i chose you. I chose you by instinct.
But why me? Castor asked.
Because i felt the magic within you. Magic is not learned, you are born with it or you are not. For you to speak in my mind you need great magical energy.
So why have i not noticed it before?
It takes a spark to light the fuse. The fuse must be lit for it to burn. Me coming to you was the trigger. Try it. Say to that stone Sator Rotas Yiesa.
Castor attempted it on the pebble he was shown.
Sator Rotas Yiesa! He said. Nothing happened.
Lift your palm, your left palm and point it at the stone, boomed the voice of Atarus. Also speak clearly. One word wrong and you could send yourself uncontious.
Castor attempted it again.
Sator Rotas Yiesa! Castor said, positioning authority in his voice.
The stone hovered.
You spoke the language of magic, said Atarus. You said the words, I command you to lift stone. Do not use Sator on a spirit, for they do not like to be commanded. You can instead say Umunat, which means Request not command. But i must warn you, too much magic will kill you. Magic saps the user of their energy to accomplish deeds which may not be done normally as easily. It feels to you as if you have picked the stone up yourself.
I want to learn more, said Castor, eager now. Very well. They continutd the lesson until dark.
Castor learned many spells from Atarus, such as how to break something without touching it and how to heal the wounds of a creature. Then suddenly outside, when castor just destroyed a branch with the words Sator Inivist Haiun-Dahm as Atarus froze.


The entries will go here http://www.thethirteenriders.blogspot.com/