Valanandir’s throat spasmed as he tried not to choke. He spat out a salty mouthful of seawater, coughing. The unnatural mixture of air and water burned his throat and lungs. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his stinging eyes. He gripped some nearby rigging one-handed and flung out his other arm for balance as the ship rocked beneath him. His vision slowly came into focus.
The sky was completely dark, as it always was. Most of the ship’s lanterns had gone out. As luck would have it, there were other sources of light available, creating a flickering twilight. Enormous forms swooped overhead on dark wings that beat the air, churning the waters below into a frenzy. Sporadic jets of flame blasted down from above, punctuating the darkness as the serpentine juggernauts made one pass after another, their long necks and tails writhing. Bright, slitted eyes peered out from scaled faces, picking out their next target. They were glaurinu—dragons.
Despite the frigid water soaking him to the bone, Valanandir’s skin felt hot. The ship was on fire. Other vessels, already engulfed in flame, lit up the water like torches.
A shocked numbness washed over him as he stood frozen in place, unnoticed for the time being. He wondered if this was what his parents had felt like before they had been killed in battle. According to the stories, they had gone down fighting against the dark army, but his own attackers were hopelessly out of reach.
Would he be remembered as his parents had been? He had no siblings to carry on his memory. The only blood family he had were his aunt and uncle, who would be devastated when they learned his fate. They had always hoped he would stay with them on Arindaria among the fisherfolk of the isle, but the call to follow in his parents’ footsteps had been too strong.
Now he was out on the waters of the sea under attack by dragons of the dark army—just another doomed skirmish in a war that had been raging since the beginning of time between the creatures of light and darkness.
Screams of panicked agony pierced Valanandir’s awareness. He pushed wet strands of long, silver hair from his eyes, tucking them behind pointed ears with his free hand. Bodies lay strewn about the deck of the ship, bloody, charred, and lifeless. Others floated on the waves.
He could see figures running about the decks of the other ships, haloed in flames. Their cries echoed across the water, only to be cut short as they jumped overboard. Even the sea held no escape. The unnatural waves were too strong, even for the crafty Sea Elves. The wounded shadows soon slipped below the surface.
Valanandir had escaped this fate thus far, somehow unnoticed by the relentless dragons. He remained hidden in the shadows, his dusky skin helping to camouflage him. But this had not saved any of his companions, and soon his ship would be consumed. If he could last long enough, perhaps the dragons would leave and he could try to make his escape.
As the cries of the wounded sailors on the other ships died out, most of the dragons seemed to lose interest and flew off into the darkness. Valanandir held his breath, waiting for the others to leave. The next few moments slid by with agonizing slowness as the looming shadows circled overhead.
Just when he was beginning to hope the nightmare might be over, one of the dragons swooped downward. Valanandir let out his pent up breath in a gasp. The body of the creature was huge, dwarfing the others. Its black scales gleamed dully in the light of the fires. Valanandir nearly gagged on the musky stench that radiated from its body and filled the air each time the creature beat its enormous wings.
Not it—he. Valanandir knew this foul beast. All of Ralvaniar trembled at the mere thought of him. He was Nargaz, lord of the dark dragons. Valanandir heard a mew of terror, and realized it was his own. He clenched his quivering jaw and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing himself somewhere else.
Valanandir heard the roar of flame and felt its heat. His eyes opened in surprise once he realized he had not been consumed. His pupils narrowed to mere pinpricks of shock within silver irises, darting left and right in confusion. The air was silent, save for the crackle of flame, the wingbeats of the dragons overhead, and his own ragged breathing.
A fresh scream ripped through the night air. Valanandir felt tears slide down his hot cheeks. He was torn between relief the victim wasn’t him, and a sympathizing despair. Choking back a sob, he continued to cling to the hempen rigging, its rough surface biting into his sweat-slick hand.
The screaming grew louder. Valanandir turned his head toward its source and saw one of his shipmates staggering toward him, engulfed in flame. His face was a tortured mask of agony, beyond Valanandir’s recognition. He weaved and stumbled, eventually falling to his hands and knees at Valanandir’s feet. Valanandir caught his bottom lip between his teeth, still hoping to remain unnoticed by the remaining dragons.
Valanandir was unsure whether the unfortunate soul writhing on the deck had seen him until he looked up, his eyes filled with an unspoken plea. Valanandir knew it was too late to save him. Yet if he did nothing and somehow survived, this moment would haunt him for the rest of his life. He could not in good conscience watch a fellow elf burn alive without trying to save him or put him out of his misery.
Valanandir sighed and released the rigging to bend down to the figure at his feet. He braced himself before scooping him into his arms. The elf cried out once before sagging in relief. Valanandir’s wet skin and clothing would protect him for only a few moments from the flames that licked the dying elf’s body.
He would have to be quick.
Nargaz continued to swoop overhead, circling closer to watch his victim’s death throes. Valanandir spared a glance upward to meet glowing, red eyes. The eyes narrowed as they caught sight of Valanandir.
Valanandir was momentarily frozen in fear, his feet rooted to the deck of the ship. His legs compensated for the roiling waves out of long-ingrained habit, enabling him to keep his balance. Nargaz circled even lower, drawing breath to attack once more. His fiery gaze pinned Valanandir in place.
A raw pain in his chest and arms and the stench of burning flesh shook Valanandir from his trance. With a startled curse, he realized his burden was burning him. He forced himself to keep his gaze on his destination, ignoring the eager death that hovered above.
Valanandir ran across the slippery deck as fast as he dared. A jet of flame roared behind him, singeing the back of his legs. The ship rocked from the impact and Valanandir skidded, landing hard against the side. He lost his grip on his burden, and the elf went overboard, falling through the air in a blaze. Valanandir gripped the side and looked over, but the other elf disappeared into the watery darkness. Valanandir had done what he could for him. Perhaps the elf would survive. Now he had to try to save his own skin.
Valanandir batted at the flames on his tunic sleeves and chest in an attempt to smother them. He looked up. Nargaz was flying closer, preparing one last attack. Valanandir could either continue to try his chances on the ship, which would eventually be burned to a cinder, or throw himself at the mercy of the unruly sea. Like any Sea Elf, he was a strong swimmer, but he was also far from land. It wasn’t much of a choice. The fire on the ship was spreading quickly, and there was nowhere left to run.
Strangely, Valanandir found himself thinking of his best friend, Numril. He was the shipwright who had designed the vessel and been in charge of its creation. It had always been a gift of his, and the ship had been a beautiful craft. Numril would sorrow to learn it had been destroyed. Still, he would not want Valanandir to go down with the ship when there was another chance at survival.
Valanandir’s thoughts passed in the blink of an eye. Nargaz was directly overhead now. Valanandir could hear the beast fill his massive lungs for one last attack.
Valanandir hoisted himself onto the side and launched into a dive as the blast hit. The wind whistled past his ears as he plummeted. The air around him crackled with the heat of Nargaz’s attack. Valanandir’s legs were on fire. He bit back a cry of pain as his flesh began to burn. Once he was in the water, he would need all the breath he had.
The churning waves rushed to meet him. He heard a roar of frustration from above. It was cut short by bubbling silence as he plunged into the dark waters.
After the initial shock of cold, there was blessed relief as the flames on Valanandir’s body and clothing were quenched. He opened his eyes, but it made little difference. Moving shadows and darkness were all he could see. Valanandir swam toward the surface, his burned legs kicking painfully. As he got closer, the light increased and the water became more restless. The flames from the burning ships glimmered from above in crazed fragments.
Valanandir would need to surface soon, but he remembered the last sound he had heard before hitting the water. Nargaz would be waiting. He swam a bit closer to try to make out the dragon’s form from the undulating shadows above. He was rocked back by a sudden impact. The waters immediately above him filled with a blinding light for several seconds before fading. Valanandir squeezed his eyes shut until it passed. An unnatural heat warmed the waters around him.
Nargaz had seen him.
