//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1 
// Story: The Dragon Chronicles 
// by Winterfall Silverfrost 
//------------------------------//

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Chapter 1
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"Hey, kid, wake up. Wake up, now, son!"

'Crunch. Crack. Wham!' One fall later and I'm sprawled on the ground, on my back, gasping like a dying fish.

"Sorry. Had ta get you down from up that tree," the voice was growly, possibly old.

"So'kay, th-thanks for the help." My voice was light, somewhat cheery, can't be much older than 18.

I suddenly came to the stunning conclusion to see what my surroundings were like, and to find that out, opening my eyes might be great idea. So I did.

Now what I saw then and there is definitely not what I expected. I expected perhaps an old scraggly guy with an unkempt beard leaning over me. However I did not expect to see complete television static grey and black, but I'd any way.

So my brain did a very reasonable thing to do. It panicked.

And I was rather startled to be shook out of my panic by the old man and allowed myself a moment of calm and tried to focus on the area around me.

I was leaning against a tree at the edge of both a forest and a seemingly large field with an empty ox-drawn cart a few meters away.

the old man him self was dressed in what I assume was travellers clothes, plain and unadorned and a pair of sturdy boots. He had, as I guessed, mattered unkept hair and beard, a long pointed nose, but his eyes, God damn, his eyes! They were bloody huge! Way to big to be properly human. Took up at least forty-five percent of his face! It was… actually kind of impressive.

How did I know all that if I can't see? Good question.

The easiest way to explain it was that I had hearing like a bat. Seriously. I could 'see' with my ears. Not very highly detailed mind you, but still, at the time I thought I could work on that later…

"So, can you tell me were the nearest city or town is, please?" I questioned.

"Over there, keep walkin’ for ‘bout half an hour and you'll see it. I just came from ‘ere myself. Gates are on the north and south sides," said Mr. Stranger gesturing behind to the forest at my back. 

I thanked the fellow and was about to begin my search when the stranger stopped me again. 

“Hey, kid,” I turned to the general direction of his voice. “Friendly warnin’, That city down there is a unicorn city so you better keep those wings of yours hidden.”

Unicorn? Wings?

I mustered my courage and spoke to him one last time, “Why help me, a total stranger?”

“Because, young one, friendliness is hard to come by these days. I try to show kindness to try and make a difference, as little as I can,” he said a sadly.

And with that he departed, with more respect for him then when we met.

With that old man gone I took the time to examine myself without it being overly weird.

From bottom to top, I had a pair of large leather hunting boots that went well above my ankles, almost to my knees and had soles of some foreign material, a uniform sort of pair of belted pants with an assortment of different sized pouches, a long sleeved, button-down shirt of multiple layers with a pair of fingerless gloves. And the best part, a nice, big coat hanging just below the tops of my boots, having a large collar and hood as well as containing many different patterns stitched into the fabric, which I will get to in a moment, and finally, a large sash belt thing going from my right shoulder to the left of another belt down at the waist of the coat, all held by a buckle shaped like an Ankh, the Egyptian symbol for life, and these kinda flap things, for which I assumed was to hid my wings. And yes, I had them, a rather large pair. 

The stitching on the coat’s shoulders was, on the left what of what I presumed to be Yggdrasil, the Norse world tree, and on the right side was circle split in half, one side a moon the other side a sun, with the hems of the coat has covered in old Celtic patterns. Whoever designed my outfit must be big on ancient civilisations, but these felt, I dunno, a little more personal.

And to top off the ensemble, was a ring made to look like an owl on my right hand and an amulet of a wolf’s head etched with old Norse patterns, a small dagger at my belt, as well as my hair of average length being a chaotic mess yet neat in some way. My eyes were also huge, larger than the old man’s.

So that problem sorted I headed toward where I was told this city is, my mind almost immediately beginning to wander to what that old man said. Something about a unicorn population, I think. How odd. An entire population of crazy mythological horses. Seems a bit silly to me.

After that brief thought, I assumed it mould be best to focus on and follow the path.

Along the way I heard little chittering snatches of bird talk;
"Do you see that stranger? He seems... different from the rest."
"Father! Father! I can fly!"
“Come to me, my sweet, for you shall be mine.”
You know, regular bird talk. Although it is interesting that they can talk.

So for the next good while of walking. Just listening to bird chatter, until 'Smack'. You know, with a wall that big, you'd think I would have noticed it in front of me. Apparently not.

It was a rather large, slightly curved wall too, around twenty five meters in height and being made of some rough stone that occasionally poked out and would make excellent foot and hand holds…

Bearing that in mind, I continued along the wall until I came across a large gate that was at least four times my hight, and judging by the many people outside, I was no slouch in that department.

Also, everyone had really huge eyes, ether like anime or a children's cartoon. Since I ‘saw’ no one with ridiculously over sized weapons, I'm going to go with the latter.

I continued to creep as close to the gate as possible without being suspicious. When felt I had gotten a good distance I pulled my hood up, rolled up my collar and leaned against the wall, looking as casual as I could.

A large amount of people going through were being escorted into a few smaller rooms just inside the wall, which began my first challenge, focusing my super hearing in a specific area over a distance. Simple enough.

No, actually, it wasn't simple. It was hard. Several gruelling hours (they were probably actually minutes) later and I had achieved my goal just as someone had entered the one of the ‘interrogation rooms’. 

A young lady dressed in passable clothing, with a baby, sat down in front of what I assumed to be a guard in full medieval plate armour writing on a sheet of parchment, and thus began a conversation that went a little like this;

“Hello, miss, I be happy to get you into our lovely city as soon as you answer a few questions, alright? Good. Let's get started, what would you and your child's name be and where you came from?”

“I am Honey Wheat and this my son, Golden Wheat,” I promise I tried desperately not to laugh at those names. I just managed. “I have come from the east, from a small town, where we were recently attacked and my husband killed during said attack.”

Both the guard and my interest was caught at the mention of an attack. 

“What were you attacked by, young lady?” 

The woman shuddered briefly before continuing. “Horrible beasts made from bone and rotten flesh, with glowing eye sockets, groaning and carrying weapons of war.” At this point I was really interested.

The guard, being the insolent dickhead he is, just laughed it off as the ramblings of a crazy lady.

“If you say so. Now, final question, what race are you?” Race? What? She isn't human?

“I… I am from the earthen tribe, sir.” Alright there are tribes now? Sure.

After the last question she was let through and I thought I could give this quiz a crack.

Then something occurred to me. A big something. Something I probably should have realised earlier.

Who am I? What is my name? What do I do? How old am I? Where am I? Do I remember anything about myself?

The answer? No. The most surprising part? It didn't seem bad. It felt oddly… normal, for me at least. It seem although a large chunk of me has been absent for so long I had forgotten it was missing, and I'm not just talking about my identity.

Anyhow, with that minor mind confudle not-really sorted I went back along the wall a distance so nobody would see me, and thus began to haul myself up the side of the wall. Which was surprisingly not hard. 

Once I had reached the top I once again used my echolocation watch for incoming patrols along the wall and clambered over the top after I deemed it safe.

Which brought me to my next problem. The other side was a solid drop down, the nearest building being several meters away and the next patrol was almost upon me. With no time to plan I did something incredibly stupid. I jumped.

The rush as I leapt was exhilarating, with the wind whipping through my hair and pushing my hood back while I sailed through the air. 

Then the roof and the jolt of impact as I landed. Surprisingly there was no ‘thud’ as I landed, just a small ‘tap’. 

Surprised as I was continued to leap across the rooftops, in case someone on the gigantic wall spotted me, my boots making barely audible noises.

After I had put a good between the wall and myself, I dropped into an alleyway, occupied only by rats, a cat and someone passed out, probably drunk if the glasses around him were any indication, and oh so valiantly walked out on the the bustling street, which was a mistake, because as soon as I did I was assaulted by a phenomenal amount of noise bouncing off walls and people and the oddest thing.

Talking. Animals.

Donkeys and mules and cows and horses were all wondering amongst the crowd, walking in and out of shops, eating at restaurants and generally being normal members of society, as well as their being, I kid you not, minotaurs, unicorns, satyrs and a very small amount of wyverns amongst others. 

Pretty amazing actually.

Also many of the human people had large pointed appendages on their heads. Like unicorn horns… 

And off on an adventure I go, to gather intel!

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Apparently this city is called ‘Tarlon’, chiefly a unicorn city, in the country of ‘Azrath’. Sounds evil, I know.

Oh, and the unicorns,(being both the crazy horse and those humans with the horns) were absolute arseholes. Think they have owner ship over everything, even the people. All of it made my blood boil.

And to them I did something I rather didn't expect myself to do; any I found being a jerk, I relived them a dozen odd looking coins. I was quite good, I think.

And then came my third and final challenge of the day.

Two noblemen were accosting an elderly couple in the street, with a few bodyguards warding of every in the street.

I felt disappointment, both for the noble men's actions and everyone else who refused to do anything about them. I also tried to feel angry but doing that was like trying to hold onto mercury, it just wasn't there.

I marched right up towards them and said, “Are you really that pathetic that you would abuse people that have done nothing to harm you in any way, other to amuse yourselves?” With a good listen my accent sounded a bit mangled, like a few were mashed together.

Also that was the wrong thing to say. One of the ’noblemen’ laughed while the other pointed at the bodyguards, then me.

I sized up the tree bodyguards. The one on the left grinned and around to his back, where a cutlasses was hanging. Relaxed, overconfident. The one on the right sighed while pulling a shiv from his pocket, also too relaxed. The one directly in front was more wary, cautious, surveying the area behind me no doubt wondering why and adolescent was challenging several experienced adults by himself. 

“Please, mate,” number three said, “just walk away.” When I refused to move pulled out metal knuckle dusters and took a swing.

But I was anticipating that and dodged the left, punched him in the back and sent him sprawling, with number two tried to jab me in the back with the shiv, with one quick movement I whipped out my dagger, spun around and parried, sending him off balance before sweeping my leg and knocking him face first in the cobblestones.

I turned too number one just as he brought his sword over his head. With another dodge I spun around to his back, turned around kicked him in his family jewels. 

With number one on the ground, groaning and number two clutching his now bleeding nose, number three was still the only one in the fight and tried talking to me.

“Please, mate, stop this. You gotta understand we are just bein’ paid for this here work. You gotta understand that our contract won't let us stop ‘till we drop on the floor.” 

My only response was “I'm sorry,” before turning to the now terrified noblemen on the ground. 

I pulled them to their knees and made some threats and relived them of their purses before dropped them, turn to catch three’s hand and proceeded to punch him in the jaw. 

I next quite calmly walked over to the elderly couple, now shivering in terror, and tried to speak with them. 

“Are you injured? Were does it hurt? How can I help?” What I said had no affect as they scrambled up and ran away as fast as their old legs could carry them. I sighed.

I thought about my brief battle and how I moved, almost like someone was gently tugging on various parts of my body, like this ghost was suggesting what I should do.

Then a hand landed on my shoulder and shook me out of my funk. I whipped around on whoever managed to sneak up on me, expecting one of the bodyguards again or perhaps another assailant.

It was not any of those it was a soft, gentle face of a man who likely spent his life as a baker, all with a small smile on his face.

“Thank you, young man, for lending your assistance. Say, I haven't seen you around before, what is your name?”

Oh no. Bullshit, activate! “Ainur.” Eh, good enough.

“Well, Aye-ner, do you have a place to stay?”

On the last sentence I was instantly suspicious yet curious but still responded with a “No.” 

“Then mayhap you come with me? After all, your services must be shown their appreciation. Please, follow me.” 

After a few moments my curiosity overrode my caution and a followed the man only pausing to look back at the groaning bodyguards.

I wonder where this will go? I thought before jogging to catch up to the man who asked me to follow.