Death from the SkyMature

A silhouette blotted out the sun. It was a massive shape drawn in black ink on a blue ceiling, a monster, awoken from a fairy tale. It was a monstrosity the size of a house. It was a dragon.  The beast had four legs folded under his belly and a pair of wings stretching across the sky. His muscular neck supported a head that could swallow a man whole. The dragon, Kiir-Arilyxx, was hungry. He had been trapped in an underground cavern for all his life – nigh on three hundred years – until light had fallen through the roof, and he had been freed. Another dragon flew in beside him.

What should we do? asked the newcomer, who was a much smaller dragon, but still enormous. The question appeared in Kiir’s head without passing through his ears.

We should find something to do responded Kiir, in the same manner.

Look over there, brother, exclaimed the smaller dragon, gesturing with his head, a great number of… what are they called?

Humans. Yes, I see. Let us eat! With that, Kiir and his brother dove in on the group of people, who scattered in shock and confusion.

 "Dragon!" screamed a grey-uniformed soldier, running for a copse of pines alongside the road. He was engulfed in a blast of fire from Naai's maw. Kiir crashed onto one of the wagons the soldiers were guarding, and snatched a soldier in his jaws as he was trying to flee.

“Get the ballistae!” yelled a captain. “Fire at will!” Several ballistae had already been set up by a handful of soldiers, who were frantically trying to fire at one of the dragons. Their efforts were in vain. Charred corpses littered the road, and the wagons were smouldering wrecks. The captain had been torn in half by Kiir’s razor-sharp teeth. The dirt road was a mess of blood and grit. The dragons ate their fill from the charred bodies of man and horse alike before flying away in search of more prey.

The End

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