The whiplash of the raging winds spread rapidly across the realm of Teheran. People ran for cover as the potentially lethal storm swept over their small village of Arni. Amongst the panic stricken crowds a young cerulean haired boy looked frantically about himself calling out his mother’s name, but to no avail she did not come. Suddenly a man grabbed his arm and he was forced to follow his lead. He tried to break away but the mans grip was too strong for his small hands.
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“Come with me boy, or you will not live to see the sun rise.”
At these sudden and harsh words the boy let the man lead him, all around him the chaos grew as the storm became more powerful. People were thrown into the air, other thrown back against walls breaking bones from all parts of their bodies. The man led the boy down underground via a porthole. He sat down in the darkness with the man for a number of hours as the storm raised it’s peak sending earth shattering vibrations through the ground, at any moment he thought his ears would pop, the sound was deafening. Fissures began to show above them, the little boy trembled, what if it was to cave in?
The man looked up at him. “It’s natural to be afraid, child. Don’t worry.”
“It’s not m-me. It’s my m-mom I-I never found h-her.”
“I’m sure she’s waiting the storm out like us. This your first storm?”
“Thought so. Back in my day they came more frequently, said this realm was cursed but now it don’t bother me. Used to it I suppose.” These words from the older man made the boy feel much more at ease yet the words seemed to float around his head. Violent storms such as these came frequently? Dragila remained lost in thought for a number of minutes.
“We’ve been here so long and I still don’t know your name. Tell me boy.” The man said, breaking the long silence
“Dragila? Now that’s a weird name.”
“My mom once told me in meant dark dragon.”
The man remained silent for a few minutes, gazing up at the fissures and sniffing the putrid air. “You can call me Garland.” He grunted. Dragila looked up and gave him a slightly forced smile.
He mopped his brow and straightened his shining cerulean hair, as he tidied his hair, Garland noticed a small scar on each of Dragila’s wrists, who then stretched his dragons hide gloves over the scars. The storm still raged above, destroying all in its path. Their village would surely be non-existent now. Dragila stared down at the muddy ground praying for his mother’s safety. He could hear the whirling tornado, the crashing winds, and the heavy rain. The storm frightened him; he had never experienced anything like this before. He looked down at the almost identical scars on his wrists, he never knew where they came from he couldn’t remember much about his childhood. For a second he thought they flickered a shade of green. He moved his finger over the top of them, no pain at all. He sat up and paced up and down impatiently.
“Never know when they’ll end. Could be ages.” Garland muttered, lighting his pipe and beginning to smoke heavily.
Dragila walked away, not wanting any of the smoke in his face. The cracks seemed to be getting bigger…
Dragila felt an uneasy feeling fill his body; he sat down clutching his head.
“You alright boy?” Garland asked pulling out his pipe revealing his rotting teeth.
Dragila clutched his head harder as the sweat trickled down his face; the sharp pain from his head lowered itself down his body. The searing pain hit his scars and they turned a deep shade of green, he clenched his fists as his mouth opened and he screamed in pain. Garland moved over to him but Dragila threw him away as he keeled over onto the floor. He felt an enormous surge of power suddenly flow through his body perhaps this was the cause of the extreme pain he was feeling. He clutched his head again, tighter, as if it was splitting. The scars were burning up. He rolled around on the floor hoping for anything to help him. He screamed out in pain and tried to speak.
“MOTHER!!! MOTHER!!!” He called out. Garland got back up to his feet and tried to help Dragila but it was too late, the boy stopped moaning and lay there in the darkness.
The ground above then shook and the cracks became bigger. Garland’s pipe dropped from his mouth. He made a run for it but the entrance back above was too far away. The tremors become too big and the muddy earth gave way, covering the two of them. “Shi-!”Garland cried out as the earth tumbled on top of him.
As the storm raged on, the two lay buried in the soggy earth, Garland struggled desperately trying to escape but to no avail the thick mud was too thick and soon he was sucked under. Dragila was still unconscious. The dark clouds above clashed with lighting and the tornado moved away from the village of Arni…
Villagers came out of their hiding places and flocked to see the remnants of their own homes while others helped the wounded.
The village chief stood staring at the sky, he ran his fingers through his long silvery beard, clutching his staff tightly
An emerald radiance shot through the earth. A dark beast cracked through floating up into the sky. It’s roar echoed through the sky. It’s black scaly skin lit up as the rain hit it hard, and the lightning flashed as it’s roar seemed to shatter the clouds opening up the heavens, it’s sharp tail raised high. The mystical creature eternity forgot had awoken. The Dark Dragon. The beast vanished and in a flash of light Dragila appeared with fists raised, panting heavily. His once calm cerulean hair was flashing emerald, his clothes ripped and the emerald glow protruding from his scars surrounded his body. “MOTHER!!!” He called out once again as he plummeted head first to the ground, the full force of the wind hit him and he dropped onto the muddy earth, his body shaking violently.
I wrote it a while a go. Give me your comments, I don’t know whether to continue it.