Wyvern Rider (A story in the Ravenglass Universe) - XIX

An orphan girl and an orphaned wyvern find shared a destiny...

Irina raced through the village, hammering on doors as she ran. “Hunters! More hunters are coming!”

Villagers poked their heads out of doorways, some springing into action.

She could feel Nim, feel his presence growing stronger with every step. But she could also feel his fear, his panic swirling through her, rising up, taking over. She sent waves of love, of comfort, but it was like fighting against a storm.

Hunters appeared at the edge of the village, more of them this time, far more.

She sensed Nim circling the village. But the hunters were after him, their arrows and spears filling the sky.

“Nim, to me!”

The wyvern banked hard, diving towards her.

Irina leapt onto his back and clung tight as Nim soared upwards, the wind whipping at Irina’s face, stinging her eyes.

But there was no time to adjust, no time to find their balance.

The hunters were already storming the village, their numbers overwhelming the meagre defences.

Irina urged Nim into a dive, her dagger flashing in the moonlight as they plunged into the fray. They struck at the attackers, Nim’s claws and teeth rending flesh and bone, Irina’s blade finding gaps in armour.

Around them, the villagers rallied, their own weapons and tools turned to the grim work of battle.

But the hunters were relentless, their numbers seeming to grow with every passing moment.

Irina felt herself tiring, felt the strain of the battle taking its toll. But she pushed on, drawing strength from her bond with Nim, from the fierce, unyielding love flowing between them.

An arrow punched through Nim’s scales, burying itself deep in his flesh.

The wyvern screamed.

She felt his pain, felt it as if the arrow had struck her own body.

Nim faltered, his wings going slack, and then they were falling, plummeting.

Irina clung to him, her mind reaching out, trying desperately to lend him strength, to keep him aloft.

But it was no use.

They hit the ground hard, Irina tumbling from Nim’s back, her own body battered and bruised by the impact.

For a moment, she lay there, stunned, and disoriented.

She forced herself to move, to crawl to Nim’s side.

The wyvern lay still, his breathing shallow and laboured.

The arrow protruded from his chest, blood oozing from his mouth.

Despair clawed at her. But she couldn’t give in, couldn’t let herself fall apart.

With shaking hands, she reached out, her mind brushing against Nim’s. She felt his pain, felt his fear, but she also felt his trust, his unwavering belief in her.

“Hold on, Nim. Just hold on. I’m going to get help.”

Pulling on all her strength, all her reserves, Irina cast her mind out, out beyond the boundaries of her own consciousness, out into the vast, swirling expanse of the mind-web.

She called out, her mental voice a desperate plea, a cry for aid that echoed across the psychic landscape. She called to the wild wyverns.

“Please. Please, we need you. Nim needs you.”

No response came, no sense of acknowledgement. Just a yawning void, a silence that threatened to swallow Irina whole.

But then, she felt it. A response, a rising swell of awareness and intention.

And just as quickly as it came, it disappeared.

Relief flooded through her, a brief moment of hope in the darkness. But it was short-lived, swallowed by the reality of the battle that still raged around her.

The village was in chaos, the hunters pressing their advantage, driving the defenders back.

Irina spotted Rurik and Mat fighting with a desperate fury.

And Nim lay still and broken at her feet, his blood staining the earth beneath him.

Irina felt her own injuries then, felt the pain that lanced through her body with every breath. She had been hurt in the fall, more badly than she had realised.

She slumped to the ground beside Nim, her hand resting on his flank, feeling the faint pulse of his heartbeat beneath his scales.

She wanted to rise, to fight, to stand between her wyvern and the advancing horde.

But her body would not obey, her limbs heavy and unresponsive.

She could only watch, helpless as the battle turned against them, as the hunters closed in.

“Please, let them come. Let them be in time.”

But even as the words left her lips, Irina felt a sinking dread in the pit of her stomach.

Even if the wild wyverns were coming, they would be too far away to make it in time.

Irina closed her eyes, her hand tightening on Nim’s scales.

She sent a pulse of love through their bond.

And then, as the hunters’ shadows fell across them, as the sound of their mocking laughter filled the air, Irina braced herself for the blow that would end it all.

But it never came.

Instead, a sound came like rushing wind, a sound that built and built until it seemed to fill the whole world.

Irina’s eyes flew open.

The sky was full of wyverns.

They came from every direction, their scales glinting in the moonlight, their eyes blazing.

They fell upon the hunters, a force of nature unleashed.

Claws and teeth flashed, wings buffeted, tails lashed.

The hunters scattered, their formations broken.

And at the head of the flock, leading the charge with a roar, was the wyvern queen of the mountains.

The tide of battle seemed to turn, the hunters falling back under the onslaught.

But instead of fleeing, they regrouped, their weapons bristling, their eyes glinting in the torchlight.

The wild wyverns fought with desperate courage, but they lacked discipline and cunning.

The hunters formed a wedge, a spearhead of steel that drove into the heart of the wyvern flock.

They worked in brutal concert, their nets and bolas entangling wings, their blades finding soft underbellies and vulnerable throats.

The wyverns fought back, the queen at their head a whirlwind of destruction.

Around them, the village burned. Cottages went up in flames, their thatched roofs crackling and smoking.

Villagers ran in panic, some cut down by stray arrows.

Even with the wild flock, it wasn't going to be enough. The hunters were too many, too strong.

She looked to Nim, to the broken form of her partner and friend. His chest still rose and fell, but each breath was a laboured, painful thing.

His mind’s light was dimming.

"I'm sorry." Tears tracked through the grime on her face. "I'm so sorry, Nim. I failed you. I failed everyone."