Chicken Scratch

Had to write this one for a class. Didn't come out the way I wanted it to but people still seem to like it so here its is... a story for creative writing.

A story for Creative Writing
Bob sat at the computer, staring at its blank screen beginning to panic. Vacation was over and he had still not written his story for creative writing. It was supposed to be about Smaquis the Frog running a marathon at school, but he didn’t feel inspired by this scenario. Sighing Bob looked around the room for some item that might be the spark he needed to get himself writing. Nothing his eyes settled upon helped. The new lava lamp sat on his desktop slowly bubbling away, his dog, laying on his brand new sports bag, was snoring, the radio blared a new song he hadn’t heard before but nothing gave him the mental motivation he needed. Nothing provoked even the smallest story line in his head. Bob drummed his fingers on the keyboard searching for something to write about. Impatient with himself, he slumped down into his chair and looked out the window.
Bob searched the sky for the stars and the moon but they weren’t visible, obscured by a presumably large, thick blanket of clouds. Getting up Bob lumbered over to the window and opened it. Sticking his head out he was greeted by a surge of cold air and a gust of wind that played through his hair, ruffling it. Bob made a closer inspection of the sky, there wasn’t a single speck of light to be found. Then without warning his ears were bombarded with the intense roaring of jet engines passing by. He listened to the noise fade into the distant night sky.
Bob sighed and closed the window tight. What a night for flying, he thought. The thought echoed in his mind, reverberating inside his skull. He paused, standing completely still. What a night for flying, he thought slowly, more deliberately. Then a single image hit him like the proverbial and clichéd ton of bricks. It wasn’t much but it was the tiny glimpse he needed to start writing. Rushing back to his computer he sat down and began typing furiously trying to hold that single image in his mind’s eye.
‘The frigid winter air berated his face as he sped through the night sky. In response he pulled the scarf tighter around his face. His journey was far too important to be put off by the elements. Below a thick, fluffy blanket of gray clouds shielded him from prying eyes of those who might wish to stop him. Above was the open night sky in all its beauty. The stars and moon shined down; their illumination changing the darkness into an eerie twilight. He bobbed through this seemingly separate world with each flap of his steed’s mighty wings.’ Bob stopped; forming the still frame image he started with into a small movie clip, and began playing it over and over in his mind’s eye. What is the man riding, he pondered, why is his journey so important? What is his journey?
Not really knowing where the story was headed Bob began to slowly peck away at the keyboard letting the words form of their own accord. ‘The rider patted the ebony scales of his steed, mentally urging it to fly faster. “Come on Drexxig, we must be nearly there,” the rider shouted above the wind. A low, rumbling growl was all the rider got for a reply. “I know you’re tired old friend, and I promise this will be the last mission we will run,” the rider muttered patting the glimmering black scales once again.
“I heard that Yerin,” Drexxig said in a deep scratchy voice.
“Or course you did old friend, I shouldn’t have thought I could have slipped anything past the ears of a dragon.” laughed Yerin.’ Bob smiled for the story was now practically writing itself. He smiled as his fingers began to once again fly over the keyboard writing what he saw in his mind.
‘ “Hold tight, I need to check our bearings,” Drexxig bellowed. Granting Yerin only a moment to cling tightly to his neck, Drexxig folded his wings flat against his bulky frame and pulled his legs up against his soft underside. Stretching his neck out straight while using his long tail as a rudder Drexxig plummeted down through the clouds. Yerin held tight as they fell not daring to open his eyes. Suddenly Drexxig opened his wings wide and they once again caught the wind. Yerin opened his eyes after they came completely out of the dive and looked over to get a good glimpse of the ground.
He groaned as his eyes fixated on a large city a mere stones throw off to their left. “Go back up! We’ve flown to far east and come out right over Arduscil! Go back up before we are spotted!” Yerin bellowed. With an audible grunt Drexxig flapped his wings and they rocketed back up into the cloud line. Yerin began to panic, an argument developing inside him.
Did they see us?
There’s no way they did, he answered himself. It’s dark out and I’m riding a black dragon. Most of the city was dark and only the palace lights were lit. Either way they’d expect messengers to travel by land not by sky.
We still could have been noticed. The thought of being spotted haunted him. Drexxig was contemplating the same notion for he did not fly back up above the clouds preferring to stay in them for cover. The next few hours of their flight passed in a tense silence; neither of them dared to say a single word.
Finally dawn broke and Drexxig landed for it wasn‘t safe to travel by day. Taking shelter in a forest that was located conveniently nearby Drexxig and Yerin settled in to catch some sleep before they took to the skies at sundown. Yerin slept for a good period of the morning but was plagued by night terrors. However, these night terrors were more detailed than the average nightmare and their meaning could not be mistaken. Getting up quietly he fetched a quill and a piece of parchment from his travel pack. He scrawled a brief message and rolled it up tight.
The sealing of the message was another matter entirely. No ordinary means could be trusted to ensure the secrecy of what was written on that small piece of parchment. Magick was the only other alternitve. Yerin wasn’t a strong spell weaver, but he would be able to seal it from anyone without a comprehensive knowledge of spell craft. He straightened his right arm and turned the palm of his hand skyward; here he placed the rolled up parchment.
Recalling the correct runes he muttered in the Elder tongue, “Sowilo Ehwaz Ansuz Laguz (Soh-veal-oh Ay-wahz Awn-sooze Lah-gooze.)” Immediately the parchment was enveloped with a white aura. Yerin smiled, he had sealed it correctly and it would not open by any normal means. He woke Drexxig and gave him the parchment.
“What is this Yerin?” the dragon asked clasping the tiny parcel in his claws.
“It is a message, should anything happen to me you are to deliver it to Firyn. He is a hermit living just outside of the capital city of Elerin. He will know what to do with it,” instructed Yerin.
“But why are you giving it to me? Why can’t you deliver it yourself?”
“I’ve had a premonition old friend. My death is imminent and approaching fast. If it happens before I can deliver the message myself it will be up to you to deliver it. It is very important that Firyn gets the message, it may hold the key to stopping the advance of the armies of dark.”
“Well then, I do suppose it is important. But I cannot believe your death is coming for you on swift wings. You are with me and I shall protect you from whatever threat there is.”
Yerin shook his head ruefully, “You cannot protect me from everything. Death will come for me and you must be prepared. Seek Firyn.”
Drexxig snorted a small plume of smoke. “Nonsen --”
At that precise moment an arrow head blossomed in Yerin’s chest. He fell forward onto his knees as his hands flew instinctively to his back where the rest of the arrow’s shaft protruded out for about half a foot. Another arrow whizzed into their small camp nearly missing Yerin’s head. With a blank face he looked up at Drexxig. “FLY YOU FOOL!” he shouted as another arrow flew at them, burrowing itself into Yerin’s forearm.
Drexxig turned on the spot and spread his enormous wings. With a mighty leap and a flap of his wings he took to the skies. He didn’t take the time to look back at those who attacked them. He turned west and flew towards Elerin the parchment clutched tightly in his claws.
He did not even see the approach of two other dragons and their riders. Between them a large net was drawn out. They swooped down on him from above and dropped it over him. The net fell over his wings stopping them from flapping. He flailed, trying to free himself of the net but it only led to further entanglement. He fell from the sky back into the forest landing on his right wing with a sickening crunch. Pain racked his mind and soon caused him to pass out. The last thing he saw was his assailants landing beside him.’
Bob stood up slightly proud with himself. He hit the save button and the print button in quick succession. His work was done and he could hand it in, in two days time. The story had so far written itself but he couldn’t help but wonder what Yerin wrote on that piece of parchment.
Bob scoffed at himself. It was to silly of a thought to entertain. He had written the story so he should have known what was on the parchment, still the answer eluded him. It was information vital to stopping the armies of dark he thought matter-o-factly. The answer didn’t seem right, it was to vague and kind of hollow. Frowning he pushed aside those thoughts. He had finished the assignment and he could always go back and write more to it next time he had to do a paper.
Yawning he looked at the clock and saw that it read 10:43 PM. Getting into pajamas he turned out the light and crawled into bed. He tossed and turned for a moment getting comfortable. Still what was on that parchment? was the last thing he remembered thinking before sleep overtook him.