Silver-Winged Dreams

         It was a dark and stormy Knight that came galloping across the countryside that fair, summer's morning. Its armor was black-enameled steal, and the black horse it rode upon had black trappings and gear. The proud standard flying in the gentle breeze was of a silver hawk of Chaos upon a black field. The breastplate and shield of this stormy Knight had matching designs of the Chaos Hawk. This was the Chaos Hawk that was said to spin the nightmares of children into its feathers, and then bestow sweet dreams on the evil creatures of the Netherworld. This Knight held its horse at a ground-eating lope as it crossed the field. Black feathers floated from the crest of the black helm.

         It was an angry and hungry drake that lurked across the other side of the same field, that same fair summer's morn. It had scales of a deep, stony grey, and its slit-pupil eyes were of a yellow hue. Pinkish scars across its back gave testimony to the many times it had resisted being eaten by the larger breed, Dracus indifferus, the dragons. The salivating mouth of this hungry drake held two-foot long teeth. Its large and terrible paws held claws of greater size, and its tail was tipped with a blade like a glaive. This was the tail that was said to be able to disembowel a man with a single strike, before the beast devoured the steaming corpse. The drake continued to lurk across the edge of the field. Yellow eyes did not once divert from their quest for a dinner.

         Yellow eyes met those of blue. The Knight and drake looked at each other for a second. Seconds turn to minutes. The horse halted, nervous. Eye contact broke. The Knight laughed, for its eyes had only seen a scrawny, bony drake. Its laugh sent echoes throughout the countryside, reverberating through the field and scattering butterflies like forgotten dreams. The drake flicked out its forked tongue, for it had found dinner. Two miscalculations were made that summer's morn. Two miscalculations that history would scorn.

         The field was long as it was wide, and flowers bloomed with cheerful shades of red and gold. The whole world seemed alive with flowers and butterflies. Butterflies fluttered across the space between the two mythic fighters, the drake and its ancient enemy, the Knight. Like a page from a Brothers Grimm fairy tale, the two stood waiting. Each awaited the other's first move.

         They waited. The hot sun caused the Knight to break into an early sweat, black armor not being the coolest of attire. Sunlight energized the reptilian drake, warming its cold blood with gentle rays of light that the Knight scorned so blatantly. Still, the two waited.



         While the two stood, waiting for the obvious, a Prince searched his palace for his missing Princess. He called her name: Iralyn. Iralyn the Dream-Spinner. Iralyn of Eridor, land of the Fae. This Prince had hair of gold, and eyes to match. He wore a cloak of silver and plate armor of the same hue. His voice chimed as bells as it echoed off the walls of the palace made of living trees. The palace was dark as the Black Forest at night, yet the Prince's shining eyes pierced the darkness, bringing light to the living halls.

         "Iralyn" he called again. "Iralyn, my brightest Star! Iralyn! Iralyn, tell me where you are!" Yet these cries were only heeded by silver butterflies that rose as one and filled the air with their silent singing.



         In the field the Knight was stricken with a sudden thought. It whispered, as if to the horse, lines of poetry, dimly remembered.

A sweet word to hold my hand,

A soft voice to here stand by,

Learns not slow to steady stand,

Learns not slow to with me cry.

         These words reached the sensitive ears of the drake, and it wondered at the tone that the Knight had used. Again, as before, the drake licked its sharp fangs in anticipation of a meal to be remembered, but this time its sights were set on the horse. Still, patient, they waited.



         The Prince called to his steed, and the creature arrived. A silver Unicorn with a horn of gleaming gold answered the Prince's call. Mondschein, the Unicorn, allowed the prince to mount her gilt back, and cling to her mane of flowing gold. Her light steps brought little sound from her golden hooves, as they passed under the boughs of the palace's outer wall.

         They had emerged into a forest of pine, oak, and hickory. The forest seemed to create its own light in the green leaves of the tall trees. It was a mighty contrast from the dark branches of the trees of the palace. Here, Mondschein's bright hooves beat out a rhythm that resonated throughout the forest. The Prince was reminded of a song he had once heard as a child.

The dark world and brightest sun,

The light word and heavy thought,

Never told and never to run,

Never ever nearer brought.

         Melodies played in his head as the Prince sang out the name of his beloved Princess: Iralyn. Iralyn, whom he missed so much. Mondschein continued her wild gallop through the wood, adding her stanzas to the song and poem that rang through the two minds. Her golden tail floated on the breeze, and the Prince's wings trailed behind him, silver on gold.

Lone the sun that listens high,

Lone not long for darkest die,

Stars of silver nearer fly,

Stars that never hear our cry.

         The Fairy Prince and Moon-bright Unicorn careened through the forest, ever searching for their Fairy Princess.



         The drake, driven by hunger, and a growing sense of urgency, charged valiantly at the Knight in black. The Knight, driven by discomfort, and the growing heat, met this charge with one of its own. These two met with a clash of steel on scales and a barbaric snarl from the drake's gaping maw. Its claws rent red gashes in the side of the sable stallion, effectively unhorsing the Knight. The Knight retaliated with the sharp edge of its glowing steel sword, striking out at the drake's outstretched neck. The two struggled, regaining balance, and losing blood. Unheeding, the butterflies ignored the violence, and continued on in their daily business. The fight went on in the light of the summer's sun, silver rays casting their shadows onto the bloodstained soil of the field full of flowers.

         After a while, the heat had slowly sank its searing teeth into even the cold-blooded drake. Both Knight, and drake could hear a rhythm in their exchange of glancing blows. Armor and scales alike deflected all but the most carefully planned attacks. The pattern went unchanged, and began to form words in the minds of the two fighters.

Those stars care not for our life.

Those stars forgive not our sighs.

The sun is my steady knife,

The sun, my friend, softest cries.

         Knight and drake fought with ferocity that had never been witnessed in so fair a field. The worst of the Hawk's nightmare-feathers couldn't compare to the terrors in the field of dreamlike butterflies. Yet the Knight had begun to tire.



         Mondschein brought the Prince ever closer to the field, but neither knew what horror awaited them there. Unicorn and Prince broke out of the trees into the field and the butterflies, as if by some magic of their own vanished. Neither Knight, nor drake noticed this sudden absence of insect company.

         "Iralyn!" The Prince called out across the field, "Iralyn!" The absence of butterflies seemed to deaden the air, and silence his words ere they reached the Knight and drake. The fight went on, simply ignoring the pressence of the Unicorn and Prince.

         Tired as the Knight had become, it slipped in the blood on the grass, and faltered for a moment, giving the drake an opening. Unexpecting this sudden chance, the drake did only as instinct had designed. It lashed out with its terrible tail. The blade chiped as it pierced the Knight's black armor. Blood ran freely from the gaping wound, and the Knight would fight no more.

         Neither would the drake. Mondschein, being a Unicorn, and made good time across the field, and thrust her golden horn into the drake's scaly hide. What simple steel couldn't pierce, the golden horn of an ancient Unicorn could. The Prince slid from her side, and knelt at the side of the dieing Knight.

         Giving honor to the fallen, he removed the black helm from the Knight's head. Fair, silver hair, and glistening blue eyes were exposed to the Prince, who recognized the features immediately.

         "Iralyn, Dark Knight, and Dream-Spinner," his hoarse whisper broke the silence that had filled the field. "Iralyn, why?"

         Iralyn's blue eyes began to dim as she replied, "Gradyn, my love,

Uncaring, stars that quickly fly,

uncaring, void that holds back,

         Iralyn, the Princess of Eridor, died before she could finish, and Prince Gradyn finished the song for her.

My star, you needn't ever lie.

My star, my sun, don't turn black.

         He had changed the words, but the poem-song remained that way throughout time. Lost was the version that they alone had recalled.