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- Herausgeber: Dragonfire Press
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Serie: Dragon Riders of Osnen Prequels
- Sprache: Englisch
One rider's courage will decide the fate of the kingdom.
Matthias Baines has always dreamed of proving his worth on the battlefield. When the False King, a ruthless usurper, seizes the Midian throne through treachery, Matthia's aspirations are put to the ultimate test.
He's given a task: cross the border and gather information on the enemy's plans.
The path is fraught with danger, and as he navigates cunning traps, mind-bending trials, and his own fears, he discovers that victory demands more than strength—it requires sacrifice.
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Seitenzahl: 94
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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Wings of the Fallen
Richard Fierce
Copyright © 2025 by Richard Fierce
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form without the express permission of the publisher.
Contents
The clang of steel rang out as Matthias Baines parried a mock blow. The training grounds of the Citadel were alive with the din of combat, each member honing their skills against constructed foes made of straw and wood. Matthias ducked and weaved between his adversaries, his sword a blur of motion. Sweat glistened on his brow, and the early morning sun cast slanted shadows across the courtyard where the riders trained.
“Keep your guard up, Alton!” Matthias called out.
He pivoted on his heel, dispatching another imaginary enemy with a decisive thrust. His fellow guards rallied to the call, their formation tight as they pushed forward, advancing against an unseen force.
“Form up,” he commanded sharply.
Together, they moved as one entity, their shields interlocking with one another. Matthias’s ice blue eyes scanned the field. A wooden adversary charged, its mechanism whirring. With a shout, he broke rank, engaging the construct with a series of swift strikes that left it dismantled on the ground.
“Enough!”
The booming voice cut through the fray, halting the clatter of weapons and the shouts of exertion. Curate Aric, a towering figure clad in burnished armor, strode onto the field. His gaze swept over the riders, all of them panting and looking at him expectantly.
“Matthias,” Aric said, his eyes locking onto the man. Matthias straightened, his chest heaving as he awaited the curate’s judgment. “Your performance today was exceptional. You’ve shown not just skill but the heart of a true dragon rider. Bravery and loyalty are the pillars upon which our brotherhood stands, and you, lad, have them in spades.”
Pride swelled within Matthias’s chest, and a warmth that combated the chill of the morning air swept over him. Curate Aric’s praise was not given lightly, and to receive such commendation from a man he admired stirred something within him he hadn’t felt since the birth of his son.
“Thank you, sir,” Matthias replied breathlessly, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. “I serve at the pleasure of the Order and the Citadel.”
“Indeed, you do.” Aric’s stern expression softened into a rare smile as he placed a heavy hand on Matthias’s shoulder. “Keep this up, and I foresee a bright future for you within our ranks.”
Around them, the other guards nodded in agreement, their faces etched with respect and a hint of envy. Matthias felt the weight of their expectations, but it was a burden he was ready to bear. He had vowed to protect the kingdom and his fellow riders, and it was not an oath he took lightly. But more than that, he wanted his wife and son to be proud of him and his accomplishments.
“Back to it, then,” Curate Aric commanded, releasing Matthias.
With a final nod, Matthias rejoined his companions. He resumed his exercise, his movements full of renewed vigor.
—
Matthias’s muscles ached with a satisfying burn as he strode toward the stable. He nodded to the men on watch at the entrance of the underground cave and continued inside, the stone beneath his boots rough and uneven. The clash of swords and the shouts of training exercises faded behind him, replaced by the calmer sounds of dragons stirring within their caves.
Hello Valkyra, Matthias greeted as he approached his dragon’s alcove. Her blue scales glittered under the torchlight, making it appear as though she were glowing. At the sound of his voice, the dragon lifted her head, her piercing eyes focusing on him.
Matthias extended a hand to gently stroke the smooth ridge of her snout. Valkyra responded with a low rumble that resonated through the air, vibrating against Matthias’s palm. They shared a moment of quiet understanding, a silent conversation between rider and dragon, each basking in the other’s presence.
Valkyra nuzzled his hand, her breath warm. She had been more than just a mount to Matthias; she was his companion, his confidant, the wings upon which his courage soared. Together they had forged an unbreakable bond through trials and triumphs alike. He loved Valkyra, dearly so. He loved his family, too, but the love he had for Valkyra was something else entirely.
Their tranquil moment was shattered by the urgent tolling of the Citadel’s belltower. A deep, sonorous sound that signaled imminent danger. Matthias stiffened, his heart racing as he recognized the call to arms—an alarm not heard in years.
One of the guards from outside rushed into view. “The border villages are under siege!”
“By who?” Matthias asked.
“Midia!”
Curate Aric entered the stable, his stern expression silently reprimanding the guard’s panicked news.
“Saddle up,” Aric ordered. “We leave immediately.”
The stable erupted into chaos. Matthias grabbed Valkyra’s harness from the hook on the wall and began strapping it onto her.
Are you ready? he asked.
I am always ready.
Valkyra spread her wings wide, knocking over a stack of hay. She reared up slightly, her body tensing like a coiled spring.
Matthias secured the last buckle and hoisted himself onto her back. His gaze swept over the flurry of activity around them. The riders were mobilizing with impressive speed, each of them driven by the same sense of duty that coursed within him.
Valkyra stomped out of the stable and into the courtyard, issuing a thunderous roar. The clarion call was answered by several other dragons, and Matthias’s heart thundered in his chest, mirroring the heavy footsteps of dragons that soon filled the air. His fellow riders were a whirlwind of motion around him, each one armed with a lance or a sword. Matthias’s own blade was sheathed at his waist, the weight of it providing a small measure of comfort.
Valkyra snorted, a plume of smoke rising from her nostrils. Her scales gleamed like polished sapphires under the sunlight, and Matthias couldn’t help but admire his dragon’s beauty.
“Move out!” Aric shouted, redirecting his focus.
With a powerful leap, Valkyra surged into the sky, which became a maelstrom of color and sound as the other riders took flight. They realigned mid-air, getting into formation. Matthias gripped the saddle horn tightly and turned his gaze toward the border.
While he was glad for the excitement, he prayed they weren’t going to war.
The sky was a cacophony of flapping wings and roars. Smoke billowed up from the ground, the land scorched by dragon flame. The Midians had soldiers on the ground and in the air, and their griffons shrieked loudly as they battled with the Osnen riders.
Valkyra banked sharply to the left, passing near a group of griffons. Matthias’s sword sliced through the air, finding its mark in the gaps of an enemy’s armor. The soldier’s eyes widened in surprise before he slipped free of the saddle and fell to his death. Matthias’s short brown hair was matted with sweat and grime, sticking to his forehead beneath his helmet. He deftly parried a lance aimed for his chest, countering with a thrust that sent the man backward, crashing hard against the back of his griffon.
Around him, the battle raged on, the riders outnumbered but holding their own. With every beat of her powerful wings, Valkyra weaved through the aerial melee, her fiery breath carving paths of destruction through the enemy’s forces. The smell of burnt flesh stung Matthias’s nostrils, but he ignored the stench and continued striking at any enemy who came within range.
“Hold the line!” Curate Aric shouted, his voice cutting through the din.
Matthias was glad to be fighting by the man’s side. Even as the odds stacked ever higher against them, Aric’s resolve did not waver. His dragon moved with a grace that belied his bulk, each slash of his claws measured and precise, conserving energy for the long fight ahead. Aric’s movements were equally deadly, honed through years of rigorous training, now on full display as he defended not just his own life but the lives of his brothers-in-arms.
They need help, Valkyra said.
Matthias scanned the ground and spotted a few people fleeing, a contingent of Midian soldiers chasing after them. He eyed the formation of the riders and was confident they wouldn’t be overtaken if he broke away.
Take us down, he told Valkyra.
She tucked her wings in and sped toward the ground, pulling up at the last moment. Matthias leaped from the saddle and hit the ground running, intercepting the soldiers. He dodged a spray of earth as Valkyra landed heavily nearby, her claws gouging deep furrows in the soil. Matthias drove back an opponent who had sought to exploit the momentary distraction.
His bravery was not just for show, nor was it reckless. He sought to protect the innocent, and he feared if the Midians won here, they would rampage across Osnen unchecked before the Citadel rallied the rest of the riders. That thought drove him onward, and he dispatched three men before Valkyra flamed the rest.
The people who fled were safely away, and he climbed back into the saddle just as a cry sliced through the cacophony of battle. Matthias turned sharply, his gaze locking onto the source. Curate Aric and his dragon had landed on the ground and a group of Midian soldiers were converging on them. The seasoned rider fought valiantly, but the press of bodies threatened to overwhelm him, and his dragon was beset on all sides.
Without hesitation, Matthias mentally shouted to Valkyra, To Aric, now!
The dragon responded instantly, her powerful muscles propelling them forward with breathtaking speed. She bounded ahead, talons outstretched, and snatched a foe about to strike Aric. With a twist of her mighty neck, the threat was neutralized, the soldier tossed aside like a rag doll.
“Riders, to me!” Matthias bellowed, rallying the others even as he fought. They responded to the call, their dragons descending in a protective formation around the Curate.
“Good work,” Aric grunted, acknowledging the save with a terse nod before turning to engage an attacker.
“We’re not done yet,” Matthias called back. They worked together, a storm of wings and valor, a tempest that would not be easily quelled.
A collective roar thundered from the throats of both rider and dragon alike, a sound that melded with the clashing swords and the whooshing of great leathery wings. For a fleeting moment, the tide of battle seemed to turn in their favor as the enemy’s advance faltered.
