Kingdoms of Ohm: The Lonely Dragon #1 ✓

Welcome To Heil

The journey to their 'grotto' wasn't a tedious trip.

For a human, of course, that would be an overstatement. The grizzly forests of Jorryn were as enchanting as they were confusing to map, leading lost explorers indefinitely in all directions.

But, from above, the world had toiled its labyrinth into a blanket of foliage. From here, you could spot the divide between both forest and mountain, when the grounds indented or pitched, and where the sea began -- just a shallow cloudy haze in the distance. The silver torches of evergreens sprouted from the skin of the earth, each tower racing to touch the stars. Some brushed the underside of my belly for amusement, sending a tickling warmth through my soul just for a dragon to chortle over. And further beneath Jorryn's hide, rolling rivers of woe rumbled rigorously, rounding ragged rifts and ripping past dirt roads that rented the bends. Jorryn was much more magical from heaven. Perhaps a bird's-eye view was necessary for me to encompass its magnificence.

Like all things, of course.

My healed wings pumped — up and down, up and down — gradually drawing each breeze toward my forebelly, and shoving off with a heavy flap. Once a ripple caught beneath my wing, I trimmed my wings just a bit, letting the sky carry me where it pleased. I began to smile; flying was a pleasure of all dragons -- a way of life, like eating, sleeping, and mating. When you soar, you tower above the world like a king in the clouds, watching your dynasty fold and shift beneath your claws without a single thought. You bask in the glory of the moon and sun, letting their brisk light twinkle against your every scale. And, up here, you can think, breathe, and relax your mind for the days yet to come.

Consider it an untouched paradise, dear reader.

It was amusing to watch the vampires flap about with me. Jerking against the wind, finch-like and uneven, they flew unnaturally; their peculiar weight and feasible size working against them. Two beats of my wings equaled ten for these bloodsuckers, and a typical dragon would fool their acts for dancing. I figured the struggle I saw was a mere evolutionary trait bestowed to their race, and so I said nothing of their flight. But still I watched, curious to find humor in it all.

    Just minutes before we started to descend, my mind began to wander. A cautious tilt of my head gave me time to spot the shadowed edges of Az'hark, still dull and lifeless as I had seen before. Every moment I spent studying its somber facade made my hearthstone ache of sadness, reminding me of a new fate I was forced to live with. A part of me tried to see good in this time, as if there was still life left over, that in which I had not found. But after all that time in Lykaios's clutches, roaring out to the night sky for someone to hear me, that hope was beginning to fade.

    There is nothing out there.

    Nayre is lost. Your hatchlings are lost.

    You are all alone.

    My eyes sealed shut, holding back a mournful whimper, and I exhaled in return through my nares.

    She's with me until the end, I thought, opening my eyes once more. She will always be here. She has to be.

    Please, Kantar... please tell me she is.

    The vampires before me suddenly halted, forcing me to swear out of their way and rotate both wings horizontal to my vertical body. Metal grinded onto metal as I froze above the earth, pumping my wings to uphold my weight and armor. They, too, flapped several times over as my head whirled about, examining where we stopped; it looked no different than the rest of the forest. Just a void of blackness hidden under a moonless night, with nothing but the trees and the distant mountains of Ohm to surround us. I started to growl.