The Legend of Silent Ch. 1

Ch.1 The Golden War
Long ago, in a distant land far from Ravalar, the first kingdom of dragons, there existed a land known as Kharis, the second kingdom of dragons. It was in this land that the infamous Golden war erupted. “Solan, watch out!” cried out Rexas who served with Silver, Solan’s second in command, just in time to rescue him from harm’s way. Solan’s physical form resembled that of a strong dark grey dragon with light grey spots scattered across his back. He also had six silver-white horns running down the back of his head, and his underbelly was a deep shade of grey. He possessed dark grey wings with black membranes, and his tail was lengthy, culminating with a scythe-like blade. Solan’s claws and eyes shared the same striking silver-white hue, while his face bore the facial features of a seasoned and battle-worn warrior. All in all, he possessed a robust and powerful physique that instilled fear in anyone who laid eyes upon his imposing form. As a Renivor, Solan belonged to the esteemed royal family, renowned for their incredible swiftness both on land, in air, and underwater. This rapid mobility bestowed upon them unparalleled prowess in close-quarter combat, rendering them a fearsome force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Despite his diminutive stature compared to the royal family Surge, Solan commanded great respect from his allies and inspired terror in his foes. Solan Renivor, the king of Kharis, and the master of speed was famously known as the “Swift-Winged Beast of the Sky”. He had distinguished himself at the Academy, and his reputation preceded him on the battlefield. Now, amidst the wreckage and devastation of the Battle of Silent Fields, Solan lay upon his body now covered in dirt and grime. With heavy heart, Solan shook his head to clear the dizziness and rose to his feet. The sight of Rexas lying lifeless in a nearby crater shook him to his core, and the debris and dirt that surrounded the edge only added to the sense of devastation. Despite his sorrow, Solan approached Rexas with a calm and composed demeanor, gently placing one claw upon the dragon’s chest. “May the ancestors watch over you, my most trusted comrade,” he whispered solemnly, before taking a deep breath and adding, “may they guide and protect us all.” “Sol we have a problem!” Called out Solan’s brother Varuth. “What is it, Var? Have we lost the battle?” asked Solan, his voice heavy with concern. “No, Sol,” replied Varuth, his breaths coming out in short gasps. “In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Rexas’s regiment, alongside Razrut, Silver and I, have broken through Kolver’s catapults and decimated his army.” Solan let out a sigh of relief. The battle had been won. “Kolver has signaled for surrender, and Silver awaits the commander’s orders now,” continued Varuth. Solan gazed out over the battlefield, seeing the scorched marks and craters littering the ground. In the distance, he spotted Silver’s flag, bearing her signature silver claw insignia. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow as he thought of Rexas who had just given his life to save his own. Solan motioned his head in the direction of their fallen comrade, and Varuth lowered his head in a sign of respect. For a moment, the brothers stood in silence, the only sounds in the air being that of the wind and the distant flames. As Varuth raised his head Solan began to speak, “Alright then, I shall deliver them myself.” Solan started to run past Varuth and opened his wings to take flight. However, before Solan could take off, Varuth quickly called out to him. “Wait Sol! There is one more thing.” Solan stopped in his tracks and turned to his brother. “What is it Var? My soldiers await my orders.” Varuth took a deep breath and said, “It’s Sylvie. She has just given birth at the city of Arctic Flame, within the birthing center at the healers temple.” Solan’s heart skipped a beat as he heard the news of his mates delivery. He felt a mix of joy and worry at the same time. Joy for the new life that had come into the world but worry for the wellbeing of Sylvie and his youngling. “My flame…” he whispered, his voice barely audible. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. The battle had left its mark on him.