Somewhere near the Drakenfell Mountains on the Ratan border…
“Papa, how many sheep do we have?”
A shepherd sat on a high rock. The seat was worn smooth from generations of shepherd’s backsides. He opened his eyes and look at his five year old daughter picking wild flowers on the plains. Their scent help cover the sheep’s odor. “Violet, we have fifty-six sheep.”
“One, two, three-”
“It’s fine Vi, you don’t need to count them. We’ll do that at the end of the day. Just watch and let me know if you see any wander off.” He closed his eyes enjoying the sun’s warmth and the cool air’s breeze.
In the distance a thunder clap echoed across the plains.
“Is it going to rain, Papa?”
Opening his eyes and looking upward said, “No, there aren’t any clouds.” He closed them again. A few moments later, he heard his daughter giggling, which brought him a smile.
“Papa, a big bird is doing funny tricks in the air.”
Opening his eyes the shepherd saw a winged creature in the far distance to the south. It rose and fell, tipping its wing to one side then to another. It was like it was performing a dance in the air. “The nine hells, that’s a dragon.”
“What’s a dragon?”
“They are magnificent creatures. They rarely come out. In fact, I was fortunate enough to see one when I was about your age towards the end of the Rirorni War. Prior to that, my father told me his grandfather said he once saw a dragon too. We are extremely lucky to see one. It must be a good omen. I can’t wait to tell your mother. Your older brothers will be jealous.”
The pair watched the dragon’s dance for several minutes and then it turned back south and out of sight within the Drakenfell mountains.
“I want to see another dragon. I want to see them dance in the air. Can we go where they live?”
“The Drakenfell mountains, no. We can never go there. However, I want to see another dragon too Vi, but what we saw today was a rare treat. Remember this. You probably won’t see another dragon in your lifetime.”
Closing his eyes, and settling back down, the shepherd said, “Now, let me know if you see any sheep wander off.” A short time later, he heard his daughter again.
“One, two, three.”
“Vi Vi, you don’t need to count the sheep.”
“Silly Papa, I’m counting dragons.”
“What?” Opening his eyes the shepherd saw three dragons in the distance they were flying around each other in unison, rising and falling as one. They mirrored each other’s movements.
“Unbelievable, a Wing of Dragons.”
“What’s a wing of dragons?”
“It’s a grouping of two to four dragons, sweetie. Something like this hasn’t been seen in an age. I can’t wait to tell the boys at the pub. They won’t believe it.”
“What are they doing Papa?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a mating ceremony?”
“What’s mating?”
“Um, well, like Mama and Papa, when you love someone you get married. I think the dragons are doing a ritual.”
“To get married?”
“Possibly or performing another type of formality.”
After a short while, the three dragons flew back southward out of sight into the mountains. The two continued to comb the sky for the next hour, but the dragons didn’t return. Father and daughter chatted the afternoon away about the wonderful dance of the dragons. They each played and mimicked their favorite moves with arms spread wide, as they laughed and giggled. What a wonderful day and something the two would surely remember the rest of their lives.
Thunder rumbled again in the distance. The echoing claps occurred more frequently, along with the sheep’s baas.
“It does sound like a storm is coming. Violet, let’s start moving the sheep back to the pins closer to home. They’ll have protection from the rain.”
“Papa?”
“Yes, sweetie.”
“What do you call ten dragons?”
“Sweetie, there hasn’t been that many dragons since the purge of the Folstrom over a thousand years ago.” The shepherd turned and saw a dragon formation advancing towards them in the distance from the Drakenfell mountains, flying fast. Father and daughter were in the middle of the open plains stretching for leagues in all directions. There was no place to hide and no point running. He snatched his daughter and took her behind the high rock. He held her tight, covering her. He bent to become the smallest ball he could muster. He reflected to the first time holding Violet as a baby and the upset, but adorable cries when she was first born. He remembered the joy he and his wife felt looking at each other at the birth of their only daughter. All he knew and cared about was about to be taken from him.
“I love you so much Violet. Close your eyes.”
The dragons grew closer. Their wing flaps resonated. The sheep scattered in panic. The rumbling of an unstoppable, massive storm approached. The rocks on the ground shook. The sound was deafening, like Ghea itself was wrenching itself apart. Violet covered her ears and screamed. The boulder they hid behind cracked and loosened at its foundation. It threatened fall on top of them. A wave of heat washed over their bodies. Ahringol, the god of the dead was here!
The dragons flew overhead. Father and daughter were exposed on the ground. Looking up, the creatures were twenty to fifty feet in length, with a wingspan twice their length. Most had a golden sheen, but a couple were green in color. The largest among them, with silver patterns, snatched one of their sheep and ate it whole, like a wolf eating a field mouse. They then magnetically turned northward towards the Rirorni Plains.
“A Thunder of Dragons,” the shepherd murmured in terror and disbelief.
“Papa, I’m scared! I never want to see a dragon again!” Violet cried, uncovering her ears, and hugged her dad close.
“By the great mother, Gheal. It’s the beginning of Armageddon.”
“What’s armageddon?