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THE DAY THE FIRE-DRAGONS emerged was the end of the world as Tara knew it.
The first sign of trouble was an early morning earthquake. It rumbled the ground beneath Tara’s feet as she ambled through the forest. She felt it all the way to the tips of her quivering wings. But the forest stayed calm, the trees were unmoved, and the usual scurrying and skirmishes of its inhabitants continued uninterrupted.
Tara contemplated going to the human council to report what she’d felt, but the last time she’d tried to tell them anything, their leader had smiled his smarmy smile, tried to shake her claw, thanked her for her input and assured her there was no problem. She’d had no idea why he was so blasé, but if he didn’t think the fish leaving the river because of the pollution from the mines was a problem, then a small rumble beneath her feet wouldn’t be any cause for concern to him. She stayed in the forest.
There was no further warning, and later in the day the real trouble began. She was splashing around under a waterfall, bellowing out her favourite song, when she was interrupted by a boom so loud, she felt it in her chest. Cursing her wet wings, Tara half-climbed, half-flapped to the top of the tallest tree she could find.
What she saw came as a complete shock.
The highest peak in the range of mountains the sun set behind was on fire. Not in the usual way, where the rays of the setting sun played tricks on the eye, but in the real way where flames shot skywards, and liquid fire spilled down the sides of the mountain like a slow-moving river.
She clung to the top-most branches of the tree, fanning her wings as a gust of hot air swept through the canopy. This time the trees did not remain unmoved. As one, they swayed away from the source of the heat and curled their exposed leaves.
Rocked and buffeted as she was, Tara almost didn’t see what happened next. In some ways, she wished she hadn’t.
A dark shape emerged from the fire, shook itself and stretched its wings—wider and wider and wider until they cast a shadow over the entire mountain. For a moment Tara felt that it stared into her very soul with its glittering red eyes. She knew who it was. This colossus was the fire-dragon, Tarakona, and it was never alone.
It lifted its head, roared flames and lightening into the sky and summoned its horde.
All along the range of mountains, fire erupted and more of the coal-black dragons emerged. None as large as Tarakona, but just as terrifying. Their roars joined as one in a dreadful chorus. Flames and lightening crackled the length of the ranges. When they leapt into the air, the sky darkened under their numbers.
The fire-dragons swooped down the mountainsides burning everything before them— trees, animals, huts, roads, vehicles, humans—anything and everything incinerated by their wall of fire.
The forest fell silent in the eerie gloom. The trees below Tara shook and trembled. She caressed the leaves of the branch that supported her and felt the tree calm. Compared to what was coming she was pitiful in both size and strength, but that wouldn’t stop her. She was the forest-dragon, Taraiti, and this forest was her home so she would protect it with her life.
Already, the devastation before her was inconceivable. The entire mountain range was aflame, and thick black smoke billowed high into the air. The fire was taking on a life of its own and spreading wider and further than the swathe being burnt by the fire-dragons. Her heart ached for the blameless animals and trees unable to escape the annihilation. She spared little pity for the humans, whose mines had dug deep into the mountain ranges, extracting Tarakona’s dark treasure, and poisoning the waters without thought of the consequences.
Tara stretched her wings, lifted her head and with the best roar she could muster sprang into the air, airborne for the first time in many years. She skimmed the treetops, feeling for the thermals that would lift her high enough to meet her adversaries, but the fire-whipped winds were violent and untrustworthy, just as likely to dash her to the forest floor as to raise her up. All she could do was beat her stubby wings, and hope she had the stamina to go the distance.
As the fire-dragons flew towards her, the air before them filled with dense black clouds of smoke. It became difficult to breathe and to see. Tara struggled onwards and upwards, doing her best to avoid embers flung ahead of the rapidly approaching line of fire. Her disused flying muscles screamed in agony and her wings strained under forces she’d never imagined she’d encounter.
Tarakona loomed closer with each slow but powerful thrust of its wings. If Tara couldn’t get higher both she and her forest would be incinerated. She was choking on smoke and could feel burns on her chest and wings where embers had made contact. Her wings faltered and almost crumpled under the onslaught of heat and pain. She squeezed her streaming eyes shut and pushed herself on with sheer willpower.
Buffeted sideways, she felt a push under her wings. Despite the agony she spread them wide and banked to catch the lift created by the funnel of fire that rose up from the destruction below. Tara spiralled higher and higher until she burst into the blue sky above the firestorm and found herself in the direct path of Tarakona.
Dwarfed before him, barely the size of his head, she didn’t falter. Her roar came out as a strangled croak. She coughed and spat to clear her throat and roared again.
“STOP!”
Fanning his wings to pull up less than a body length away, Tarakona ceased spewing fire and lightening. The horde echoed his every manoeuvre. His huge facetted eyes bore into hers.
“Who are you little one? And why do you stop me?”
“I am Taraiti, dragon of this forest. I beg you to spare my home.”
“All must burn, Taraiti. That is the cost for disturbing my home and stealing from me.”
“It was the humans who did that to you, not me, and certainly not the trees or the other creatures who live within the forest.”
“You live alongside the humans, Taraiti, and yet you did not prevent them from damaging your world.”
“I tried, Tarakona. They ignored my warnings.”
Tarakona’s face was unreadable. Tara had no idea what it was thinking.
“It may be too late for your forest, little one. The fires have their own life now and are no longer under my control.”
Tara had been so intent on her mission she hadn’t looked back. What she saw when she turned made her feel sick. Fingers of flame penetrated the forest, consuming all in its path, its hunger for fuel relentless. She roared in anguish, tucked her wings tight into her sides and plunged downwards. Tara had no idea what she was going to do. All she could think was that she would fight the fire to the death to save what little remained of her home.
The wind screamed past her ears as she plummeted. The closer to the ground she got, the hotter the air became. Tara barely felt the embers that stuck to her skin. Just above the still green canopy she spread her wings to slow her descent, but it was too little too late. She crashed through the upper branches and one of her wings tore as she tumbled out of control. The trees reached for her, softening her fall and helped her to the forest floor without further injury.
On the ground it felt like Tara had entered a hell-scape; the light a dark red and embers swirling and igniting everything they touched. The air was thick with acrid smoke, and the forest floor swarmed with insects, frogs, lizards and flightless birds, all seeking refuge where none was to be found.
All Tara could do was to beat at the approaching flames with her burnt and battered wings. Her muscles already exhausted from flying, were now strained beyond capacity and her beating became weak, desperate flailing. Her roar was reduced to a keening howl and tears evaporated from her singed lashes before they could fall.
It was hopeless. Tara had failed to protect her forest. Her mind knew it, but somehow her body continued to struggle. The forest was in total darkness now, she could feel death close by. Mute and blinded, she collapsed, pathetically noble in defeat, and waited to be engulfed. Without her forest she would welcome the pain before eternal sleep.
She slipped from consciousness.
***
THE FEELING OF BEING incinerated was not what she expected. It felt more like floating in cool, delicious water. Tara tried to stretch her aching wings, but they wouldn’t move. In rising panic she began to struggle but found she was held in place by an immense force.
“It’s alright little sister, I have you,” Tarakona’s voice rumbled through her body.
“My forest,” Tara bugled, struggling to open her gummed up eyes.
“We saved what we could.” Tarakona loosened its grasp until Tara found herself floating without aid. “You fought the fire valiantly, Taraiti. You have earned my respect today.”
“You did not earn mine.” The retort came out without thought.
Tara did her best to wash the crust of dried tears and ashes from her eyes. She hoped the persistent darkness was caused by Tarakona’s presence, and not because she was blind. She groped her way out of the water. Every movement she made brought fresh pain. Even without looking she knew the burns to her wings were bad; they were probably ruined forever.
Squinting, she could just make out a blackened landscape, flattened up to the margin of what seemed to be pristine forest.
“How?”
“We crushed the fire and forced it around your forest. The humans have been razed, you, your forest and its remaining inhabitants are all that remain in this land.”
Tara was horrified. “Not all of the humans were your enemy.”
“They were complicit.” Tarakona bounded into the air. His wings created a windstorm that shook the forest and raised clouds of ash. “Farewell, little sister.”
With the departure of Tarakona and the horde the gloom lifted from the forest. The trees reached out for their dragon and welcomed her back into the cool, green comfort of home. It wasn’t long before birdsong filled the air. Insects buzzed and skinks scuttled around in the leaf litter hunting them.
***
AFTER THE FIRE, THE forest was smaller, but still rich in life. It was many days before Tara felt strong enough to venture out of the forest to inspect the damage to the rest of the world. What she found lifted her soul. From blackened stumps fresh shoots emerged, unfurling tiny green leaves that rose towards the sun. Ant trails criss-crossed the scorched soil, fresh spider webs hung between debris and the occasional bird could be seen foraging in the destruction.
Life endured and the forest would return.
Tara climbed to the top of the forest canopy — the trees bent and swayed to help her on her way. Clinging to the uppermost branches, Taraiti, the forest-dragon, bugled her news into the wind. In the distance, the mountain range rumbled then returned to its slumber.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: JACQUI Greaves is a New Zealand-based writer of Erotica, Fantasy, Science Fiction and Historical Fiction who loves nothing more than mixing the genres together in weird and wonderful ways.
Most days you can find her on Twitter & Facebook. She’d love you to visit her webpage to find more of her stories.
Webpage: www.jacquigreaves-author.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JacquiG_Author
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008782507874
