The torches’ light glimmered round the chamber. Shadows, as if they were alive, were dancing on burgundy walls. In the middle of the floor, sculpted from the red stone and ornamented with metal, was a mosaic depicting a dragon, with wings half out-stretched and a serpentine body. The tail was winding around the creature, encircling it completely. The spines on its back were fringed from the top of the head to the end of the thin body, with a bone-type spade at the end of its tail. The rubious eye was shining mysteriously and at the same time emitting an ominous glow. From the reptile’s snout was blazing bright flames, and from the nostrils were rising black fumes, on the mosaic pictured as five single trails. Yellow scales, hard as steel, were protecting the soft underbelly of the monster.
The members of the Dragons’ Order stood in the semicircle, they did not cross the dragon’s tail, because the religion forbade it. The torches’ light was catching on their wrinkled visages and silver-streaked hair. One of the priests, an aged man, standing at nearly two metres, whose hooded visage was entirely covered and his brown raiment sweeping the stony floor, entered the huge room. In gloved hands he was holding a steely rod, from which was hanging a stone-sculpted vessel, held by metallic chains, which were swinging with every step. In it were smouldering variegated fires. The others closed their eyes and began singing a ritualistic chanson. The greybeard with the vessel started walking around the gathered. Their silver medallions with exactly the same symbol as was on the floor, but with variegated precious stones in place of the eyes, were flickering in the colourful glow and the reptiles’ eyes seemed to sparkle from within.
The chanson ceased and the priests opened their eyes. The greybeard stood in front of them. He lowered the steely rod. The vessel settled over the mosaic. The ruby eyes glinted. Unexpectedly, the fire that was in the seemingly usual vessel, roared and began taking shape, sanguine in colour. From the flames emerged wings, then the neck and head of the beast. On its back was sitting a young man in armour adapted to spending a disquieting amount of time amongst clouds. The dragon surged up in the air, carrying the rider with it. The pair were flying around the room. The torches’ light became saginuine every time the fiery profiles approached the priests. When they had circled the whole chamber, their light forms became thinner and thinner, until they disappeared. The ruby eye of the beast presented on the mosaic faded.
The priests exchanged serious glances. It was him. The greybeard holding the vessel, in which fire rebounded, left the room. Big, wooden and finely decorated doors closed themselves behind him, creaking quietly. After a moment, a young man arrived. The rider that was a warrior of the Dragons’ Order looked at them. His silver armour was reflecting the faint glow of the torches. Like the other warriors belonging to this secret association, his face was masked by a curious helmet.
It had a dark slit in the shape of letter T, which extended to his temples. Under the chin he had a metal spike. In the middle of the forehead, was a horn, heavily bent, almost touching the next adornment, emphasising superiority above the other warriors from this world. It’s end was diamond-shaped. The edges were covered in silver. In the middle of the framing was a blood coloured ruby, which was also diamond-shaped. From the top of the head to arms the man had a scarlet mane, running along his spine. It had grown recently, as a sign of the bond with the dragon, known as Golden Flame, or Golden Eye, with which he flew.
The priests declared that he and his companion were the chosen ones, and that they must travel travel across the land to fight against the evil powers. They said that it was at the same time an enormous privilege and a great responsibility, which will bear hard on them, until they realise their mission. The man left the room. He went across part of the old edifice. He passed multiple corridors, not one of them lit by torches. The man went over to the enormous, arched, paneless windows that extended as far as the ceiling. From this place was unfolding a beautiful landscape of the snow-covered mountain tops. The warrior felt the cold morning’s breeze. He beheld a vast circular courtyard with a large geometric symbol in the middle. He espied there waiting, a blood coloured dragon. He went down the stairs, which lead to the landing area for these wonderful creatures, to meet with his best friend, who had aided him many a time.
The Golden Flame, the creature with which he had created a strong bond, was waiting for him patiently. The reptile was looking at him, surveying the yellow eyes. The warrior silently communicated what had taken place in the chamber, but this was not necessary as their minds were as one, allowing them to instantly access each others’ thoughts and memories, even when separated by distance. The dragon bowed his head, on which were two large, goat-like, golden horns. It laid down its long neck, on which was a mane identical to that of the rider, the single thing which bound their look, except for yellow eyes with thin pupils.
The man climbed on its naked back. The dragons from the Order did not wear a saddle or a harness, because it was the height of disrespect and too resemblant to chains, therefore they flew without. The warrior held on to his companion’s scaly neck. The Golden Flame struck out its scarlet wings and raised up into the air. A cold mountain wind lashed the man’s visage. They finally felt the freedom, which could only be felt when flying, maybe for the last time. The dragon flew next to a mountain. It breathed fire and then flew to the clouds, heading there, where sunlight could not reach. They set out on a far journey to challenge the evil powers that were stirring.
