The Dark Age Chronicles: The Fall of Night.
The Beginning of Darkness.

A cold wind blew in from thesouth west. A loud wail rose with it. Like a woman in great pain. The wail grewloud with each passing moment as the wind rushed along the barren slopes of theSyphen Mountains. The claws of wind raked loose rocks off the mountain and sideand sent then clattering to the black base of the mountain. The night was stillyoung, yet the sky was wreathed in a blackness that was not natural. Anoppressive darkness that the very wind despised. The wind rushed over theslopes, dragging itself ragged across grassy meadows and on through the forestof Behrud and Giril. It rose laboriously over the central range of mountainscalled the Krogas. The shrill cry of the wind was now so loud that thecreatures of the night hid from it. Men locked their windows and tried to stoptheir ears. And still on the wind drove itself, till it finally crossed theKrogas and entered the Waste Plains of Writhia.

A dragon rose with gracefulease and blotted out the moon with its great body. The massive chest of thebeast rose and swelled. Suddenly a jet of flame, red and furious, streamed fromits open mouth down onto the plains. The cry of the wind was lost here. Criesthat were uttered here could be heard miles away. For it was here that thegreat Darkness emanated. It was here that it was being fought. The flames ofthe Dragon poured down onto the teeming throng of armour clad bodies below. Theheat of the flames melted the armour of those that were in the direct path ofthe deadly outburst before the fire ever reached them. Their cries echoedthousands of others as their bodies disintegrated in the fire. Their comradesallowed themselves a brief moment of horror then forced themselves to turn awayfrom the spectacle of death to face the new ones before them.

The sky above the clashingarmies was scattered with flying beasts and red with smoke. The moon seemed tohave been turned to blood. It cast a dull glow on the warring Griffins andDragons below. A dragon dived though a cloud of smoke and never came out of it.A griffin flew out of the cloud its talons dripping with blood. Another Griffinand its Rider flew spirals around a Dragon; the Griffin Rider slashing with lightningspeed and sharp accuracy at the Dragon Rider. His Griffin simultaneouslystriking at the vulnerable underbelly of the Dragon. Both Rider and Griffinscreamed in victory as the Dragon and Rider, feel dead, out of the sky. AnotherGriffin, with half of its rider on its back, was being torn to pieces by twoDragons. The beast put up a valiant fight until its wings were torn from itsbody, and it fell headlong into the sea of flashing steel below.

The noise of the battle wasdeafening as steel rang against steel. The blood splattered men shouted louderthan the ring of their blades and all were standing ankle deep in soil soakedin the blood of their fallen comrades. The blood flowing from their own woundsadded to it. They stepped on the bodies of those who had fallen, driving the corpsesdeep into the soils of the Waste Plains. Many men drove steel into the heartsof others. Many men fought in a blind rage, oblivious to the world around them.Many men saw their own limbs severed before them. Many men fell to the groundand never rose again.

King Lyficen sat astride hisDragon on the mountain range of the North called Valas; meaning Leader in atongue that was forgotten; as a lord that stands on the edge of his territory.His amber eyes took in the scenes of carnage that took place before him. On hisface was a smile. His black armor was tinted red every time his Dragons shotflame. His own Dragon shifted below him and he sensed its impatience. His smilewidened; he responded to it and calmed the Beast by a pat of his hand. Everyone of his Dragons’ scales were inscribed with silver runes, so that the blackdragon seemed to glow in the dark. Lyficen’s armor was the same. It kept himsafe from all spells. He sat confidently on his dragon awaiting the outcome ofthe war that he had begun.

Queen Syria of the Land ofCysia looked on at the war below with a sick heart. She stood beside herGirffin and the Beast stood quite still. But Syria could feel the tense musclesunder the fur and feather. From their stronghold in the Nycos Mountains, oppositeto the Valas, she could see Lyficen sitting there. He glowed like star in thenight, but he brought darkness to her land and she was determined to stop him.The smell from the plain rose like an invisible sheet and covered them all. Itmade her want to retch. It was not her first war but she had never gotten usedto the stench of Death. Her eyes kept flickering toward the Krogas. It was fromthere that she expected help if things began to go sour, but it did not seem asthough she would need it. The Dragons numbers were vastly diminishing, so wasLyficen’s Ground force. Syria smiled. Lyficen would not win this one.

Lyficen’s aide fidgeted athis post. He watched his lord sit in confidence while their armies were beingdecimated. Their Dragon’s numbers were pitifully small. ‘The fool! The aide thought, ‘doeshe not see! Something has to be done to salvage this impending defeat!’

“My Lord” he said, with aboldness he did not feel, “Shall we retreat?” Lyficen turned around in his searand fixed his gaze upon the aide. The evil that emanated from the man drove acold spike of fear into the aide’s heart.

“Retreat?” he asked hisvoice chilling the blood of all those that stood there, “why?”

The aide was too passionateabout the situation to be daunted, “We are being destroyed!”

Lyficen smiled at him as onewould smile at a stupid child. He turned away and dismounted his Dragon. Thebeast shook itself.

“Come here,” he said in acondescending tone. The aide hesitated and then walked stiffly to Lyficen.Lyficen placed an arm around the man’s shoulders. “What do you see?” he askedpointing to the plains below. The aide was aware of the sharp fingers ofLyficen’s metal gloves.

“You see defeat?” he asked,“I see victory.’ With that Lyficen raised his hand to the south.

The aide turned his head tolook. There was a dark cloud moving swiftly from the south. At that distance hecould not make out what it was. Queen Syria also spotted the cloud. A fear grewin her mind. It could not be. He had orders! What was he doing? Lyficen smiledand chuckled to himself as the cloud grew into a shape. They were flyingbeasts. A Griffin was at the head of them. The Beast entered the Plains. TheGriffin sent a cry and the Army of Cysia lifted their heads in greeting andfroze in horror. Many that froze were immediately cut down. For behind theGriffin flew a horde of dragons.

Syria stood with her mouthopen. It could not be! One of her own! The Griffin Rider circled the skiessmiling. Lyficen laughed and turned to the aide, “There is my victory.”

“But how?” the aidestammered.

‘I blinded his eyes,”Lyficen said, “The fool. Let him see what he has done.” With a raise of hishand he said a few words and suddenly the Griffin Rider seemed to jerk out of atrance. He gazed about him in horror as the truth dawned on him. His eyesglanced around frantically then rested on Lyficen. It became contorted withrage. Lyficen nodded.

“Come my Rider,” hewhispered. The Girffin Rider swung out his weapon and stirred his beast. Theyflew toward Lyficen cutting down all in their path. As they gained ground theyflew faster. Lyficen pushed away the aide and raised his hand again. TheGriffin Rider raised his blade and with a rush came down upon Lyficen. Suddenlyhe stopped as though he struck a stone wall. His griffin pitched away into theWaste Plains, unconscious. And he fell at Lyficen’s feet.

He tried to rise but Lyficencrushed his head into the earth with his boot. Blood poured when he moved it.Lyficen grabbed a hand full of hair and spun the man around to face the Plains.He drove his gloved hand into the man’s back. The Rider cried out in agony.

“See what you have done!”Lyficen hissed, “You have given me my victory.’ The man remained silent butslipped a knife out of his belt. Lyficen spun the man around by his hair again.The man groaned.

“Now you will die,” Lyficensaid. The man smiled and in a rush pulled away and drove his knife intoLyficen’s face. The blade went in deep to the hilt but Lyficen stood there asthough nothing happened. He pulled theblade out and the wound resealed itself. The Rider stared in horror. Lyficensighed and drove his hand into the man’s stomach. The man lurched forward.Lyficen grabbed him and held him still as he twisted the metal hand. The manchoked in agony.

“You have brought a greatcurse on your land by trying to kill me,” Lyficen whispered to him, “I wouldhave settled for the death of all your griffins here but now you have sealedyour land with a greater doom. Know this Griffin Rider and die. For all theland will curse your name.”

The man sank forward andLyficen tossed the corpse aside. He raised both hands and began to chant, hisvoice rung loud and clear. And when he was done he turned his back to the WastePlains and called for a retreat. It was sent and his army withdrew. As they marchedaway they could hear the dying screams of Griffins as their Riders killed themand the sound of steel upon steel as the Army of Cysia slaughtered itself.

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