The Awakening: A Short Story

Oren squinted his right eye, his good eye, focusing on the wiggling worm trying to escape his grasp. The worm was pinched between his thick, calloused right thumb and forefinger, performing a chaotic dance to avoid the hook that threatened to skewer him. Feeling a sharp stick in his right thumb Oren cursed softly under his breath. Between his one good eye, his insensitive sausage-like fingers, the gentle rock of the boat and the dim light, he had stuck himself four times trying to thread this little worm on the hook. Sighing, Oren looked up at the front of the small wooden rowboat to see his grandson Yolsen staring intently at the tip of the cane pole gripped tightly in his six-year-old hands. Yolsen's short dark hair was matted to his scalp with sweat because the night was so hot. In fact, his shirt was rolled up in a ball and tucked under the wooden bench that he sat upon in the bow of the little boat. Lance, the family hound was stretched out on the floor of the boat "guarding" the bucket of worms they had dug up earlier this afternoon. He was a good dog, and Oren related to him a little too much. They were both near the end stage of life, where Lance was almost fifteen years of age, and Oren, well into his seventies. Both walked with a limp, both had worked hard in life, and both welcomed the chance to sleep whenever they could. But Oren wasn't sleeping tonight. Tonight was a rare occasion where he was going to teach his grandson Yolsen what it was like to catch Iron Fin.

The twin moons rested full and high in the clear sky tonight. No clouds threatened to obscure either of the twins, and no breeze offered respite from the oppressive heat. This was a rare occurrence that only presented itself every couple of years. Yes, tonight would be a good night to fish for Iron Fin. Especially here in this small reservoir. A stone quarry bordered most of the small body of water, save for a small section of Oren's wheat fields that reached down to touch the basin. With the stone quarry forming most of the reservoir's perimeter, the Iron Fin flourished. They liked to nest in the large rock formations from what Oren could tell. And usually, they were very difficult to catch. But not tonight. Something about the twin moons in the sky makes Iron Fins go crazy. The moons cast enough light that Oren and the boy had chosen not to use a lantern on the bow of the boat. Over his many years, Oren has become convinced that this is part of the key to successful fishing.

The boat lurched as Yolsen gave a quick yank on his cane pole and its tip arched down towards the water dancing erratically. Oren's grin widened despite the new hook finding purchase in his thumb again from the sudden movement in the boat.

"That's it boy! Keep your tip up! Don't let him spit it out!" he instructed with his gravelly voice as he quickly ripped the hook from his flesh.

"Pa... it's too strong.. I don't think I...."

"Non-sense Yolsen! You've got him. Sit your butt back. Pull with your body."

The young boy gripped the pole with his left hand and wrapped his right arm around the shaft of the pole pulling it tight to his body. Putting a muddy bare foot up on the railing, he arched back on his wooden seat pulling with all of his might. Oren's eyes were wide with excitement watching the young boy wrangle his first Iron Fin.

Amid the excitement, Lance looked up and gave a low growl. But not towards the boy or the pole or action. Instead, the old dog was looking over towards the bank. Oren almost didn't notice caught up in his grandson's first catch, that is until Lance let out a short low-pitched bark. This was rare for Lance and something he only did when he felt threatened. Oren glanced at the shoreline briefly but didn't see anything. But then he heard it.. Galloping and yelling in the distance.

A single rider on horseback raced across the hilltop of Oren's wheat field. The twin moons illuminated the rider well enough for Oren to see with his good eye. The rider was leaning low, hugging tightly to the horse who was galloping at tremendous speed. The silhouette of the rider's cloak fluttered in cadence with the horse's smooth stride. In a blink, the rider had streaked across Oren's hilltop and disappeared behind a rock mound.

Oren could hear the thunder of many hooves now. MANY hooves! In just a few short moments at least 20 men on horses crested the hillside and paused to consider which way the rider may have gone. At that moment, the water around the boat swelled so much that both Oren and Yolsen had to grip the sides of their boat for fear of tipping into the lake. Yolsen's cane pole zipped into the air and plunged into the water as the wave moved towards the bank near the riders at an incredible speed. And then it happened! A massive shape exploded out of the water and landed firmly between the rock pile that the rider had gone behind and the group that pursued.

Oren's mouth gaped as he took in the scene, and Yolsen dropped to the floor of the boat lifting his head just enough to peer over the rails at the incredible beast. This creature was at least five horses tall! It stood back on its haunches and spread a set of leathery wings from its shoulders. Smooth silver scales glistened in the twin moonlight and a long slinder tail whipped back and forth. The beast was beautiful, terrifying and imposing! A long thick neck led to a sleek head with a powerful maw. Oren could see what looked like horns almost as long as a man is tall protruding from the top of the creature's head.

The group of riders' horses reared in protest at the sight, but the riders were obviously well trained and subdued their mounts. Oren could see many of them had spears which were now squarely leveled with the creature.

"You .. may .. not .. have her!!!" the beast roared in a deep and powerful but smooth voice, as the horns on its head flattened to the back of its skull. Its forearms landed on the ground with a crash, and the shake of the ground sent ripples into the lake.

"Run it through!" the riders' leader shouted. With that, the front half of riders spurred their mounts and charged the beast with spears pointed at its chest. The rear group had drawn bows and begun to loose arrows.

In an instant, the beast lowered its head and shot a torrent of water from its jaws at the oncoming spearmen. The water hit them so hard, so fast, that Oren could see limbs of men and horses sever from their bodies as the horizon filled with pink-tinged mist! The riders' screams were cut short as the beast immediately charged into the spearmen - the remaining spears snapping as they hit its hide. For such a large creature, it moved with blinding speed! The spearmen's bodies were ravaged in just a few seconds, but that was long enough for the bowmen in the rear to recognize the futility of their situation and they quickly retreated back over the hillside.

With the sound of hooves racing away in the distance, the creature looked out onto the water and fixed its gaze on the small boat. Oren felt his blood chill, terrified beyond the capacity to move or think. The beast turned to look at the boat and then to the rock mound to its side. Turning it walked beside the rock mound and then lowered its great head to the ground. A cloaked figure stepped from behind the mound carrying a small bundle. The figure raised a hand and stroked the beast gently. Then with a fluid motion, the figure hoisted itself onto the shoulders of the giant creature. The beast stood again and stretched its great wings. With a single leap and powerful flap, it jumped into the air with its rider holding securely to its back. The gust of wind from the ascent washed over the small boat blowing a refreshing mist from the water into Oren's squinted eyes. In just a few moments, the creature and its rider had disappeared into the night sky and the world fell still and silent around Oren's tiny vessel.

"Pa? What was that?" Yolsen asked softly.

Oren turned to see the boy shaking with tears in his eyes. He was still crouched low in the boat with one arm holding the railing and the other hugging tightly to Lance.

"Almighty above!" Oren said. "I think it was a dragon boy."

"A dragon? But I thought they were all dead."

"They were supposed to be Yolsen. They were supposed to be. If they're here though, then nothing good can come of it. Hand me those oars son." he gestured for the oars lying sidelong in the boat.

"We best get back to the house. If dragons are among us again, then the prophecy has come true and magic is returning to the land." Almighty above, Oren listened to the words coming out of his mouth and could hardly believe them. Magic had been extinguished from the lands almost three hundred years ago as the last of the dragons were slain in the Eldritch Wars. And yet, they just saw it. What else could it have been? The first to be seen in centuries. This was not good. Not good at all. War would be coming. A war that Oren wanted to keep his family as far from as possible. Oren gripped the oars with trembling hands and began rowing to shore.

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Hello Steemit! I thought I'd try my hand at writing a small short story. Please let me know what you think in the comments below. This was imagined to be the prologue or intro to a larger tale that I've been churning for a few years. Let me know if you'd like to see more

Find the Prequel to this story here: Birth of the Chosen of for another perspective on this story click here: The Protector's Call
Image licensed CC0 from pxhere.com