The Scale King

         Arith ran his thin hand along the scales of Nurur’s back. Deep red, the colour of thick blood, each scale the size of a man’s fist. As he walked the length of the beast he felt Nurur’s huge lungs fill as she inhaled. The height of one of the largest men, as long as horse and carriage and half again, and as wide as two of the finest bulls from the grasslands, Nurur was a fine specimen. Arith didn’t dare to guess at her wingspan yet. He’d seen some dragons with wingspans that rendered them flightless, their weak limbs incapable of holding their bulks in the air in even the most powerful of updrafts. Arith dismissed it from his mind, the beast would be a great asset to the King’s collection.
         Nurur stirred, pulling hard at the chains round her snout and tail, her deep purple eyes bulging as she strained. The chains held, nothing in the world was strong enough to pull moon-steel bonds apart from each other. The moon-steel looked to be made of stone, a smooth, grey, powdery rock. It was from this appearance that the steel took its name. Nurur was being held in a standard dragon lock. Chains held the snout, neck and tail of the beast to the deck of the lock, from below the deck, a wooden circle then wound through the deck, over the dragon’s back and back through the deck again. From this circle more moon-steel chains hung and would shortly be wrapped around the pinned beast. Fire breathing dragons were a myth, at least Arith had never come across one, so it didn’t matter that some of the lock was flamable. The lock was designed in such a way that once the final chains were locked in, should the dragon struggle, the wheel would turn, tightening the chains around the dragons body. Some dragonss had struggled so much that the chains soffucated them, others suffered broken wings this way; but those were the stupid ones.
         Nurur was not stupid, Arith knew this. He could feel it in his bones. This dragon had been assessing the situation since she was downed. As they fastened her into the lock she’d been watching, learning how the mechanisms worked, how the chains were linked and locked; she would not risk herself.
         Arith stood back from the body of the dragon. He’d found himself resting fully on the dragon’s belly, being lifted and lowered as she pulled in gallons of air with each breath. How long had he been chasing dragons? Two hundred years, three? As a skyman he was old. This was one of the last dragons he would bring back down from the high clouds and he couldn’t be happier with her. He knew she was a prize to behold. The King would pay well for her. A retirement may even be possible now, rather than falling from his saddle when age finally caught him.
         “Ottar, we are ready.” Arith commanded as the final chain was pulled tight around the dragon and then secured into the deck of the lock. “We shall make for the Cloud City, if we fly all night we shall be there for morning.”
         “All night?” questioned Ottar, a hulking man with a thick black beard and long black hair. Ottar wasn’t good looking. He was scarred and burnt from one too many close encounters with dragon-kind, but he was a hard worker and he liked nothing more than bringing down dragons. The man had made a living out of capturing them unharmed.
         “Yes, this one, she is worth it.” Arith smiled, looking back at the beast. Nurur’s eyes were fixed on him, watching him, weighing up his weaknesses. It didn’t matter, Arith would have been paid and be long gone before the lock was released.

         The night passed slowly, the miles and miles they flew were long and tiring. Arith would fly at the front of the airborne convoy, then slow his own dragon so that he could fly along side their captive. The night was clear and cold, in the moonlight Nurur’s scales glinted, deadly and sleak, she was a fine catch. Arith grinned in the darkness, she was worth a fortune, especially to a man obsessed with dragons.
         The sun was rising over the clouds as they reached the Cloud City. The spires of the Grand Palace reached up through the clouds and clawed at the orange of the morning sky. The spires were black and jagged, curling slightly at the tops. The palace itself was a gothic monument to the King’s power. The King had demolished his father’s castle and rebuilt the entire royal residence. The main addition he had made was the dragon pens. Below the palace itself was a huge stable, built for dragons. It had a seemingly undending capacity. Dragon upon dragon had been bought, captured and traded into the King’s posession. Hundreds now lived in the pens. They ranged from small, weak creatures to huge hulking behemoths, but none of them compared to Nurur.
         The convoy approached the pens and headed for one of the landing terraces. Arith could see the king already. Scouts were always sent ahead of convoys, the king would know of the prize beast they were returning. Landing before the King, Arith bowed as he approached, dropping to one knee before his ruler.
         “Rise” said the king, shifting his weight impatiently. The king was dressed in his armour of state, heavy plate mail covering all but his head. On his brow the silver crown of the Cloud City sat, the blue hexagonal diamond set in it seemed to glow in the morning sun.
         “Your majesty, I present Nurur, the finest beast I have ever seen.”
         The King approached the dragon, he walked along Nurur’s length, running his hand along her scales.
         “She is a fine beast Arith, I will have to offer you much for her I feel”.
         “For you my King, I always make a discount” Arith smiled.
         “Very well, what do you ask?” the King beckoned to a servant nearby who duly approached with a scroll and quill. “Take note of the transaction.”
         “Well I would open at seven thousand.”
         “Seven?” the King balked, “That is more than the Grand Palace is worth!”
         “Then perhaps..” Arith stopped, the chains of the locked rattled together, Nurur stirred. Arith turned and looked, Nurur was still again. Turning back to the King he continued “Then perhaps five thousand would be enough?”
         “Five is still too much, I have hundreds of beasts, why would I pay five thousand for one more?”
         The men continued to discuss price, until Nurur stirred again. This time the beast rattled the chains and the screeched terribly. The sound was like metal grating on metal, the men covered their ears until it ceased. Arith had never heard one of them make a sound like it. The dragons usual growled or roared, they didn’t cry out. Nurur made the call three more times as the men bartered.
         And then the rumbling began. From far below roars and growls filled the air. Servants rushed to the terrace, calling out to the King, the royal guard began to look concerned, drawing their steel and moving in to protect the King. Suddenly screams filled the air. Below the King and Airth dragons of all shapes and sizes were breaking their bonds and climbing the palace. From a distance it looked as though the stone itself had come alive and was scaling the structure. The first creature to make it to the terrace was a small dragon, male and looking to prove itself. It was too small and the guard quickly took it down with chains and swords, throwing the tied creature off the terrace. Nurur watched and watied. Saving her strength. Now the rest of the dragons were reaching the platform, Nurur screeched as they began to make for the royal guard, claws and teeth ripped at the men, knocking their weapons aside and tearing their armour like tissue. Blood soaked the terrace, screams filled the morning air. The smell of death and fear hung in the air.
         The dragons finished off the royal guard before rounding on the King and Arith. Though he was old, Arith drew his knife and placed himself infront of the King. A screech from Nurur halted the appraoching dragons. Arith couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Nurur was controlling them; they were listening to her, following her commands. What had he caught? Two more screeches and the several dragons left the pack and moved to the sides of the dragon lock, in moments they have broken the correct links and Nurur was hauling herself to her feet, lungs filling, nostrils flaring with rage. Nurur strode towards the King and Arith, her purple eyes were wide open, glaring at the pair that were now beginning to cower infront of the beast.
         Arith stepped forward, blade rasied toward the approaching creature. Ascreech from Nurur brought a hulking brown dragon infront of her, pouncing forward in leapt on top of Arith, pinned him to the terrace floor and then swallowed him whole. The blad fell from the beast’s mouth, clattering onto the floor.
         The King fell to his knees. Looking into Nurur’s eyes he grimaced, holding back his rage. Nurur studied him for a moment. Then turning to the side she looked off into the distance. Dragons descended on the city from all directions. Turning back to the King, Nurur took a deep breath, then exhaled. The air between the King and Nurur began to blur and crackle. Then it ignited. The King felt the heat for only a second, then his brain cooked inside his skull. His armour cracked and warped, his body cooking inside. The heavy crown melted around the diamond before the matter holding it up disitegrated.
         Nurur watched the beauty of the destruction of the Cloud City. Dragon fire consumed the buildings, the people fled or were killed, the dragons were free. With a harrowing screech Nurur took to the sky. Her dragons followed and headed toward the setting sun.