Rise Of Orthros

Chapter One

The heavy oak doors of the Dragon Guild's meeting hall swung open as Ruvean Oakenheel strode in, clutching a scroll embossed with the seal of their elven lord, Ragnar. The whispers of his comrades faded momentarily upon his entrance, eager eyes shifting toward their leader.

“Good morning, everyone,” he began, his voice steady as he stepped to the center of the room. The hall was a warm blend of familiarity and camaraderie, sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns across the stone floor. "We have a new mission from Lord Ragnar."

Ruvean glanced around, while handing out the information, as he did, he noticed what everyone was doing. Cyrelle was sharping her knife that Peregrin had made for her, Samuel leaned against a wall with his arms crossed, and Peregrin was fidgeting with a trinket he’d likely scavenged. But his focus settled on Aesthra, seated at the long table. She seemed lost in thought, her emerald robe glistening, contrasting against the dark wood around her.

“This mission,” he continued, unfurling the scroll, “comes at a time when we’ve barely grasped the aftermath of our last one. We won’t make the same mistakes.”

Everyone nodded before looking briefly at the mission that was laid out before them, Aesthra’s eyes widened as she read it, before her eyes flicked to Ruvean, who noticed a stable tightening in her posture as everyone read the details.

"It seems, the village of Gandor has had a dragon attacking them. It started off with just livestock going missing and now it seems the dragon has turned to the villages," Ruvean spoke.

"What’s different about it?” Cyrelle asked, her curiosity tinged with concern.

Ruvean looked back down at the scroll, then met Aesthra’s gaze. “It appears this dragon has been driven by something—fear or perhaps a threat. Aesthra?”

“Oh.” Aesthra’s voice was barely above a whisper as she leaned forward, her fingers brushing the hilt of her sword. “Dragons don’t typically attack without reason. It’s almost always a response to danger.” Her brows furrowed as she considered. “Perhaps something is instigating this behavior in Gandor.”

“And we should listen to you, because?” Erasto interjected, his dark purple eyes glinting with skepticism as he crossed his arms.

The room crackled with tension. Aesthra's jaw tightened, but she masked her anger with steely resolve. “I've never swen a dragon attack someone without reasoning, has your dragon attacked someone? I think not.”

“Oh, please.” He laughed, a hard, rasping sound. “You mean delusional.”

Ruvean felt his muscles tense, he shot Erasto a stern look, the air suddenly thick with the weight of his authority. “Enough.” The single word echoed in the hall, silencing all murmurs.

Erasto shrugged, uninterested in Ruvean's reprimand. “If this dragon’s attacking, it’s probably for a good reason. I don’t trust your kind, Aesthra. Maybe the attacks are warranted.”

Ruvean turned back to his team, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “We’ll fly to Gandor, investigate the situation, and determine what’s truly happening. Every detail matters. We need to be united for this mission.”

Aesthra’s eyes softened, gratitude flickering behind their vibrant hues. “Thank you, Ruvean. We need to hear the villagers’ account, let them explain why this is happening. We—”

“Why do they deserve our help?” Samuel cut her off, an edge to his tone. “They’ve likely done something to provoke the dragon. Just like they did nothing to protect my home when the raiders struck. We should be focusing on something that actually matters.”

Peregrin waved his arms dramatically, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. “How about we unleash a massive fireball to show them who’s boss? We could roast marshmallows later!”

The corners of Ruvean’s mouth tugged upward. “Not quite the approach we’ll be taking, Peregrin.”

“Why not?” Peregrin bounced on the balls of his feet, grinning. “It’d make a great story!”

Cyrelle smirked, but Ruvean's voice cut through with authority once again. “We’ll approach this with strategy, not reckless enthusiasm. Dragons are not our enemies. They’re complex creatures.”

Ruvean took a step closer to him, the room suddenly feeling smaller. “Then let’s get to work.” He cleared the tension that had thickened the air. “Prepare your dragons and gather your gear. We leave at dawn.”

As the meeting started to dissolve into preparations, Aesthra stood, her mind swirling with thoughts heavy as the air outside the hall.

****

The stables were a labyrinth of earthy smells—a rich blend of hay and dragon scales, all alive with the quiet hum of dragons. As she rounded a corner, Aesthra's heart raced. The sight of Ethiopia, her dragon with the afternoon sky-colored gemlike scales, calmed her. The dragon’s eyes, pools of wisdom, narrowed as Aesthra approached.

“Hey, girl,” she whispered, extending a hand to stroke Ethiopia’s snout. “We have a mission, and I need you with me.”

Ethiopia let out a soft rumble, a sound akin to distant thunder, and the vibrations resonated against Aesthra's skin. Aesthra's fingers crept to the amulet around her neck, the tear from Ethiopia’s first shed scale sparkling in the dim light.

“It’s okay. I can feel your unease.” Aesthra cooed, placing her palm firmly against the sleek scales. “Shhh, everything will be all right.”

Ethiopia emitted a low, soothing hum, rich with comfort and assurance. The dragon tilted her massive head, nuzzling Aesthra tenderly. A warm smile broke across Aesthra’s face, easing her nerves.

The dragon let out a melodic whine, and Aesthra couldn't help but chuckle softly. It was a sound almost akin to laughter—a sound filled with trust. Outside, commotion swirled as the rest of the guild prepared. Samuel's deep laugh reached her ears, and Cyrelle probed Peregrin for a recipe for travel snacks, his eyes alight with mischief.

Aesthra took a deep breath, the vision of the menacing dragon combined with her guildmates' laughter, swirling in her mind.