Havok Publishing

A Descent of Dragons

By Morgan J. Manns          

My stomach lurched as I peered farther into the yawning mouth of the volcano. One wrong move and I’d fall to my death. Fortunately, this mountain had been dormant for years. I wouldn’t die from magma—but if the jagged rocks didn’t finish me off, the dragon probably would.

Come on, Kytt. Focus! You’re a thief—and a darn good one.

My leather gloves creaked as I grasped the corded rope tighter. It could easily be my lifeline or my noose.

Get in, steal the egg, and get out. Simple.

A strand of chestnut hair escaped my ponytail and flew incessantly around my glasses. I blew out a sharp breath. I was fifty feet into the descent. Halfway there.

The volcano was home to a creature of prophecy. If the old scrolls were correct, it would help us win against the Darkness—the black mist that smothered our land like a plague. Pulse pounding, I thought of the words our people clung to:

Born of sunset, gilded in flame,
A creature of gold shall rise to reclaim.
With iron scales and claws of might,
He’ll burn the shadows back into the night.

I rolled my eyes. Dragons were unpredictable and near impossible to tame. It was difficult to believe that one could make any difference. Still, I needed to do my part. People were counting on me.

I eased down the rope, my hands trembling. Careful, Kytt. The last thing you need is a sliver.

Small pebbles rained down into the volcano as my boots stepped in a steady rhythm against the rock wall.

Time to review the plan.

First, I would convince the mother we needed her offspring. I grinned. Or, better yet, take it when she wasn’t looking. Easy enough. Dragons ate their own young from time to time. She wouldn’t miss one egg. Then I would—

A low, rumbling growl echoed through the cavernous volcano. I froze. Had the mother heard me? It was mid-day. She was supposed to be asleep.

An obsidian-scaled dragon plunged past me, its vast wings stirring a wind that sent me swinging sideways. My feet slipped, and then I was falling. Air rushed from my lungs as the ground surged closer. I clenched my teeth, flailing wildly—and somehow found the rope. I gripped tight, and heat scorched through my gloves.

A thunderous roar erupted just as my feet struck the ground. Pain lanced through my legs. I released the rope.

No, no, no! Injuries were not part of the plan!

I gasped for breath. Instinct took over, and I scrambled behind a boulder, flexing my limbs with relief. Amazingly, nothing seemed broken.

Another roar sent a tremor through my stomach. I braced myself, certain that flames would devour me whole.

Only then did I notice the rocky outcropping, its shadow stretching into a cave. Yellow eyes glinted within, accompanied by a deep growl that answered the first. Another dragon was coming.

I needed to hide.

My sources said only one beast called this volcanic peak home—a fierce, sunset-orange female. However, the dragon that had swooped past me was unmistakably black. Her mate, perhaps?

I drew my knees to my chest and slid farther into the shadows.

The orange dragon emerged from the cave, her long, scaled neck snaking forward in a display of challenge. Her razor-sharp teeth gleamed in the sunlight as she snapped at the air. She fixed her gaze on me. I had trespassed far too close to her lair.

My breath grew short. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think of an escape.

A roar from behind. The orange dragon’s focus shifted as she whipped her head upward, beyond my hiding place.

Black wings blocked out the sun, and the rock I crouched against quivered. I glanced up. The obsidian dragon loomed above me, claws sinking into the boulder. Its jaws opened wide—

A sudden shriek split the air. The orange dragon lunged, wings spread, talons flashing.

I rolled to the side.

The two dragons clashed in a whirlwind of wings and scales. Rocks tumbled downward as they fought with fury. The orange dragon was smaller but unrelenting, each swipe of her claws infused with rage.

She was undeniably impressive.

Scrambling to my feet, I bolted for the open cave. I didn’t know if I was seeking an escape or the answer to prophecy. Inside, the roars faded, replaced by the echo of my footsteps. And there, glowing softly in the darkness, lay a magnificent golden egg.

My heart pounded. It was real. It was here.

I knelt before the nest, doing my best to ignore the bone-strewn floor beneath it. Three eggs lay in a protective circle, hues ranging from forest green to jet black. At the center sat the one I had come for, gleaming with an inner light.

A piercing scream echoed from outside. Gasping, I took the golden egg and carefully tucked it into my satchel. Then I turned and ran.

Sunlight assaulted my eyes as I emerged.

Both dragons lay sprawled on the ground, their iron-hard scales marred by deep gashes. I stared at the fallen obsidian dragon, its empty eyes gazing at nothing. Had the orange really killed—

A rasping sound made me flinch—the orange dragon still clung to life, pulling herself toward the cave.

I was unsure if she meant to end me or return to her nest. But I didn’t get a chance to find out. She slumped, her head finally resting on the scorched earth, her last breath escaping in a feeble cry.

I froze, disbelief pulsing through my veins. Both dragons were dead.

My shoulders slumped. I had the golden egg. Yet… as I glanced toward the cave, I thought of the others I’d left behind. The mother had fought so valiantly to defend them. Leaving them to perish seemed a waste.

I sighed and turned.

Maybe, just maybe, dragons could help in the fight against Darkness.

Because, if a thief could do her part, so could they.

[ratings]

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Morgan J. Manns is a speculative fiction writer who firmly believes that the world needs more stories filled with magic and wonder. Captivated by the realm of intricate world-building since composing her first fantasy tale at the age of ten, she now ventures beneath the endless Canadian prairie sky with her supportive husband and two hobbit children, all while eagerly contemplating her next literary creation. While her current occupation is that of an elementary school teacher, her dream job will always be dragon rider, soaring through the skies of her imaginings.


More Stories | Instagram

38 comments - Join the conversation

Your Dose of Weekday Fun

Welcome to Havok, where everyone gets free flash fiction every weekday and members of the Havok Horde can access the archives, rate the stories, and contend for reader prizes! Join the Horde, or enjoy today’s story… we hope you’ll do both!

Image of an e-reader with the latest Havok anthology "Multiversal"

In celebration of our MULTIVERSAL anthology launch, the Havok website is offering an extended Flash Peek at our archives! Okay, okay, so this wasn't actually the original plan, but some nasty hackers have prompted us to pivot quickly to keep our daily Mon-Fri story releases from getting disrupted. Better an imperfect website that showcases a contest entry story than a hacked website without one!

Archives by Genre / Day

Archives by Month