Disclaimer: The author does not own the Inheritance Cycle.

SILVER WINGS

By

CelfwrDderwydd

STRANGER UPON THE SHORE

The waves crashed on the rocky shores and the thunder roared high in the dark skies as the storm raged. Rain angrily lashed as the wind howled. Out in the surf, a dark ship was sinking into the crashing waves. The ripped sails fluttered in the fierce winds and flames danced along the wood. The once proud vessel, of a merchant-type, was almost completely submerged, save for the bow and the top of the main mast.

On the sharp, rocky shores, a form moved. It slowly crawled from the surf and out of the raging seas. With some effort, it straightened up and stood.

The form turned and looked back at the sinking ship. The form was that of a young man, not much older than sixteen. His auburn hair was wetted down, hanging past his shoulders. His chest was bare, as were his feet. The only clothes he wore were a pair of brown trousers, tied from his ankles to his knees with leather cord. He swayed as he stood and watched the ship sink. There was a grim satisfaction in his slate-gray eyes as he watched the ship sink.

Vengeance was his, at last. In his right hand, he held what remained of a spear. The haft was broken, now no longer than his forearm. The blackened spearhead was dented, nicked and notched, but still deadly. Around his right arm, a bronze armlet glittered, the ends curved into two great spirals that almost covered his upper arm. Around his neck he wore a large ring of twisted gold. Like the armlet, the ends were curled into spirals. In the middle of each spiral was a gem, black as night.

He watched as the last of the ship vanished under the lapping waves, the flames hissing as they were extinguished. With a weary, shuddering sigh, he turned and looked at his surroundings. High, jagged sea cliffs lined the shores for as far as he could see in the lashing rain. He gave a soft groan as he walked across the sharp, jagged rocks. Blood streamed down his right side from a thin, but deep wound just below his ribs. The salty seawater stung the wound, but he was too weak and weary to care. He stepped slowly and carefully as he tried not to stumble.

In the raging storm, that was easier said than done, as the wind buffeted him and almost knocked him into the angry ocean once again. As he staggered, he planted the spear into the ground for support and looked around. His vision was becoming hazy, and he wasn't too sure of direction. His head hung and his back hunched, he glanced at the cliffs. His eyes took in a small dark shape at the base of the cliffs. With a tired groan, he headed for it. As he came closer, he saw that it was a cave. As he stumbled into the cave, the wind gusted behind him, knocking his already tenuous balance off and sending him toppling to the stony ground.

The spear clattered on the stone as his pale skin thudded against the rock. He tried to pull himself up, and felt his insides twist in discomfort. He felt his gorge rise and violently exit his mouth. He gasped as he collapsed on the stone. Breathing hard, he grasped the spear and began to drag his dying body deeper into the cave. Further in, towards the very back, he could feel sand under him. He gave a soft sigh as he let his tired body rest on the sand.

This was far enough. His breathing was labored as he lay there, the sounds of the storm raging outside. So, this was it. This was where he was going to die. His hot blood continued to flow onto the sand that he rested on as he rolled onto his side. His glassy eyes gazed without truly seeing the cave. Whether it was getting dark, or his eyes were failing, he couldn't tell. It hardly mattered. Soon, he would be with his family again. The thought brought tears to his eyes, even now, so close to death.

"Mother . . . father . . . sisters . . ." he said softly into the dark as his life drained away. His eyes stung with the tears as he closed them. He thought he vaguely heard a noise. A squeak. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard something move somewhere. He sighed. Again, it didn't matter. He just hoped that, if there was something in the cave, it would wait until he was dead to eat. It wouldn't have long to wait; he could already feel his body begin to grow cold.

His vision grew dark, even though his eyes were open. With a sigh, he closed them. As his senses all began to dim, and he could feel the specter of Death over him, he felt something against his hand. Suddenly, he felt a feeling like ice surging through his veins. The cold feeling quickly spread through his whole body, and he felt as if he was laying in the coldest snow in the middle of a blizzard. He was vaguely aware of pain, but it was distant and diffuse.

He gave a soft gasp as his dying body trembled. He wondered if Gwynn, the Wild Hunter, had touched him. As he felt his mind begin to slip away, he felt a feeling he had never felt before.

Like something brushed his mind. The touch was gentle and soft, like a finger gently caressing his thoughts.

The feeling quickly turned into cold terror and panic, but it wasn't his. There was a feeling of desperation, and something that was almost like something was reaching for him. He could hear a sound like distant screaming and could just barely feel something touch his face. The last thing that passed through his mind, he could only call weeping, as if someone, or something was crying.

XXX

The sound of waves was the first thing he heard. The gentle splashing of waves and the cries of gulls seemed to echo around him.

Was he in the Otherworld? He gave a soft groan and opened his eyes. His vision was fuzzy and blurred. As his eyes focused, he could make out the jagged roof of the cave. He sighed and closed his eyes. He was still alive. Most people would be at the very least relieved. He wasn't. After the nightmares he'd been through, after all the pain and the misery, he thought he would at last be reunited with his loved ones in the peace of death.

Once again, it seemed Fate wanted to kick him. Slowly, his senses began to return. He could smell the sea and feel the dim cold of the cave. As he drew in a breath, his side burned with pain. As he shifted, he felt something on top of him. He looked down, and felt his breath stall in his lungs at the gray creature that was coiled on his waist. It was about the size of a small cat, whatever it was. Its body was oddly shaped, and, although his vision was still hazy, he could clearly make out scales.

He glanced over and saw the spear had rolled away from his hand and rested out of his reach. His gaze returned to the creature resting on him. He had no idea what it was, but this close to the sea, a sea-serpent was a distinct possibility. He tried to keep himself calm as he thought on what to do. If he moved too much, it would surely wake it, if it wasn't awake already. If it attacked from where it was, resting on his belly, he would be dead in seconds.

Before he could think further, it stirred. He readied for a fight as it uncoiled. He froze as two silvery wings stretched and flexed, the bony tips ivory white. A triangular head attached to a long neck came up and he felt all the breath leave his body as he realized what was resting on top of him.

It was a baby dragon. The tiny dragon turned its head and looked at him. His eyes met the two, wide, silver eyes as they studied each other. The spines that ran down the dragon babe's back were polished white, as were the claws. As it looked at him, he felt the same feeling of something caressing his mind. He blinked as he felt a feeling of warmth sweep into his mind. He realized it was a feeling of relief. Relief? What for? The dragon suddenly squeaked at him.

He blinked, wondering at the tiny miracle that sat on him. To his astonishment, it rubbed against him as a cat would. It squeaked again. As his shock wore off, he realized it was happy. Happy he was alive. The sad and panicked feeling he had felt must have been from the little dragon.

The warm feeling once again stroked his mind. There was no other explanation: The dragon was speaking to his mind, although it seemed to not be able to actually use words. Instead, it seemed to communicate with emotions and feelings.

Despite its scales, the baby dragon was very warm and soft. He tentatively reached up and petted it. The dragon squeaked again, sounding happier than ever. Despite everything that had happened, he couldn't help a smile. Of all things, to find a dragon! At least this nightmarish journey had brought some good. Wherever he was, it was where dragons still dwelled. His people held dragons in the highest of regard, and held them as sacred beings and friends of mankind.

He gave a soft chuckle at the impossibility of it. The little dragon looked into his eyes again and squeaked again as it rubbed against his face. The spines just barely grazed his skin, but not enough to scratch. As he stroked one of its wings, he noticed a strange mark on his right palm. It was like a diffused white oval in the middle of his palm. He looked at the tiny dragon and knew that it was connected to it, although he didn't know how.

As he looked to his left, he saw a small stone that looked like a polished oval of silver, veined with white. It was broken open. He blinked and looked at the dragon and knew what had happened. The baby dragon had hatched while he was dying. He looked down at his side. The wound was still crusted with dried blood, as was most of his side. Somehow, the dragon had saved his life. The dragon's mind once again grazed his, this time with a feeling of hunger. He blinked as he looked at it, wondering if it intended to eat him. Apparently, the dragon felt his thought and seemed to recoil at the notion.

Unfortunately, he had nothing even remotely resembling food on him. The dragon was only a baby, and needed food. A desire to protect and feed the dragon flowed through him as he attempted to sit up. Pain lanced through his side as the wound tore and began to bleed anew. He fell back to the sand as the baby dragon screeched. He sighed as he let the pain subside. The dragon nervously clawed the sand as it nudged his side with its nose, squeaking and squealing. He looked at the tiny dragon and smiled softly.

"Don't worry, little one. I'm all right." he said softly, his voice hoarse and raspy.

The little silver dragon looked at him with its wide eyes and he felt what he could only describe as concern touch his mind. Before he could do anything, the dragon turned and scampered towards the mouth of the cave. He felt his blood run cold as he watched the tiny creature run for the entrance of the cave. "Wait, little one! Don't go outside! It's dangerous!" He tried to get up to run after, but pain burned in his side again as he doubled over. He gnashed his teeth as he pulled himself up onto his feet and tried to crawl to the entrance.

He was startled when the dragon bounded back in and squeaked and reared back and stomped its front legs on the stone, a tiny puff of smoke coming from its nostrils. He stared as it repeated the action, flapping its wings as it did. The feeling in his mind was hard to decipher, but it felt as if it was telling him to stay put. He just sat there, staring at the tiny creature as it stomped and squealed. When he didn't make another attempt to rise, the dragon scampered off again.

He sighed as he sat with his back against the wall of the cave as he thought about all manner of worries that could befall such a tiny creature, newly born, on a shore like that.

He couldn't tell how much time had passed, but he felt twisted and worried inside for the baby dragon. He sighed as he gingerly crawled over and grasped the spear. He was about to try to rise again when the dragon returned. He dropped the spear in surprise and relief. The dragon had a fish in its jaws, and, if it's belly was any indication, it had caught quite a few for itself. The dragon trotted up and dropped the fish at his feet and squeaked at him. He blinked as he looked at it in wonder. He reached down and picked up the fish. He smiled as he stroked the dragon.

"Thank you, little one." Then, with hunger gnawing at his stomach, he began to eat.

The rest of the day passed peacefully. With food in his stomach, he felt his strength begin to return. The baby dragon rarely strayed far from him, although it did explore the cave. He chuckled as it scampered about as babies are wont to do, exploring its surroundings. It was such a little wonder. It warmed his heart. He thought the dragon was perhaps the cutest thing he had ever seen. As if it was attracted by his thoughts, it scampered over to him and crawled into his lap.

He smiled as he stroked it. As he looked out, he saw that it was getting dark, and the fog outside was getting thicker. Using his left arm to hold the dragon, and his right to hold the spear to use as a walking stick, he moved to the very back of the cave, taking shelter behind a curve of the wall. As he slid down the wall, the dragon whined as his side bled once more. He sighed as he sat. He smiled and rubbed under the dragon's chin, much to the dragon's delight. It hummed in its chest as it curled up against his bare flesh. He guessed it was like a cat's purr as he stroked the dragon.

A warm fondness flowed within him at the tiny creature. The cold of the ocean air began to settle into his bare shoulders as the cave grew dark. He was unable to suppress a shiver.

The dragon squeaked with concern. He smiled in the dark and petted the dragon, reassuring it.

"I'm all right, little one. Don't fear." he comforted. In response, the dragon snuggled closer to him. For the first time in many months, he didn't feel alone.

The dragon hummed as it began to drift off to sleep. He smiled as he gazed down at it. A thought came to him as he first began to hum. He stroked the dragon as he drew in a breath and began to softly sing.

The song was soft and warm, like a comfortable blanket. Emotions began to flow, along with tears as he gently sang an old lullaby he knew very well.

The warm tears streamed down his cheeks as he sang the lullaby his mother had sung to him when he was small. A tear landed on the dragon, who stirred, but did not wake. He smiled, despite his tears and gazed up as a hint of soft light from the moon shone into the cave, the tears on his cheeks shining in the moonlight like streams of silver. He looked down at the tiny dragon as the tears flowed. Even through the tears, he smiled.

He had a purpose again. Aelwyn ap Rhydderch had found something to live for.

He softly reached down and wiped some blood from his side and held his bloody palm up to the light. "I swear upon my very blood to protect and watch over this little one until my dying breath." he said softly into the night. His vow was made. He smiled as he held the dragon closer. In response, it snuggled closer in its sleep, humming softly. He smiled as he sighed and curled around the tiny dragon held in his arms.