Enyo

Enyo
The Sky Warrior
"Rayquaza shall fall to my claws and mine alone."

Imperials are strange dragons. Some may live out their lives in only a few decades, but some live for centuries, remembering when Sornieth was not settled and the gods roamed freely over the earth. Such a one is Enyo. Most dragons nowadays know the Snowsquall Tundra as a land of snow and stone, sparsely decorated with evergreen trees. Enyo’s early memories of the Tundra are very different.

Even then, there was snow, but it stopped at the perimeter of her valley. With her powerful Ice magic, Enyo could keep the frost at bay. The valley didn’t remain perennially green, but it came back to life each spring with more vigor than any other region in the Southern Icefield, great carpets of grass and wildflowers blanketing the hills. It was a peaceful, prosperous place. Dragons sought shelter here from the bitter cold of the Icefield—not just dragons, but also Beastclans, those who were tired of fighting or had no quarrel with dragonkind.

The valley was not always a safe place. Winter reigned beyond the hills that encased it, and occasionally, marauding beasts or dragons attempted a raid. Again, Enyo came forward—not as a nurturer this time, but as a protector. As she rose from her den, wings flaring, the valley's inhabitants banded behind her: dragons, Beastclans, and other intelligent creatures standing shoulder to shoulder in defense of their home.

Enyo’s power was great. None in the Southern Icefield posed a challenge against her, save perhaps the Icewarden. But those who dwelled in the valley knew her only as their defender: “Savior of the Snowsquall Valley,” they hailed her. Enyo looked out over the green fields of the valley, her head held high with pride. This land was home to her and those who had searched for harmony and refuge. She had made it so. She would be pleased to guard it, she decided, until time took her breath away. “I may have to train a successor,” she mused, “for I will not be able to protect this land forever. But there will be time enough for that later. I am still young, still strong. Nobody will threaten this valley while I am here. No one...and nothing...”

~ ~ ~
The dragon came out of the darkness one day, just before the break of dawn. It appeared without warning—the birds fluffed their feathers, preparing to welcome daylight, but instead, they took off, shrieking in terror, as the sky tore apart.

Enyo roused herself from her slumber. She went to the front of her cave; it was always wreathed in ice, but now the icicles were melting, water dripping from them like tears. Another blast of oppressively hot air came, and they broke apart wholly, shattering against Enyo’s scales. Her fellows cringed in fear, but she remained unmoving. Her eyes were fixed on the anomaly that was now threatening her land.

The sky had turned black against the alien brightness. Above the valley, a red rip gaped in mid-air. Heat and light poured from it, flattening the grass and turning the snow into ugly muck. It was as if a volcano had broken open. Lava heaved beyond, glowing and restless...It was moving.

And, as it turned out, it wasn’t lava.

“Ah, it is...a new world....” At this voice, Enyo went cold—no mean feat for an Ice dragon. It was a voice like ancient, creaking metal. The shape in the rip acquired a greenish cast as it moved slowly, inexorably, into Sornieth’s light.

Its eyes were flat yellow, glaring from beneath a four-spiked crown. Serpent’s eyes. It unwound from the gateway with the ponderous, creaking groan of unyielding steel. It had two spindly forelimbs, and its wings looked too small to support that immense body. Enyo watched with bated breath—How giant could this monster possibly be?—but eventually, its spiked tail twitched loose; there was no sign of any hind legs. The monster floated like an alien balloon, its grand, armored scales rattling.

Its progress was slow. It seemed unused to the air of Sornieth; it moved as though it were struggling through mud. While it was winding forward, the valley's inhabitants rallied to Enyo’s side. They held their weapons with trembling hands, for they didn’t know what this creature was. It couldn’t be a dragon. It didn’t have enough legs.

“But what else could it be?” they whispered fearfully. Enyo’s ears twitched as she caught their words.

“An intruder,” she rumbled, then shouted: “MONSTER!”

The green beast noticed her and the others for the first time. It rotated slowly in the air, its armored plates grinding hideously.

“You have come into the territory of the Icewarden. You are threatening the Snowsquall Valley. Leave this place. The hills just behind you mark the boundary of our home. Once you are past them, we will not trouble you.”

“You are an insolent child,” sighed the beast. It drifted closer, its claws flexing idly. Behind it, the gateway it had used continued to pour light and heat.

It was unbearable to the folk of the Southern Icefield. So when the green beast shrieked, “You would challenge a legend such as myself?” many of them dropped their weapons and ran. Enyo barely heard them. She was now wholly focused on the intruder, the enemy, and spoke to it alone—

“You are no legend. None here have heard of you. But I am Enyo, protector of this valley; I have destroyed monsters like you, even torn apart an Emperor.” The Emperor had been a mistake; too many Imperials had arrived at once, wounded in some great battle. They had fallen upon the valley floor and had begun to change almost immediately, warping into a hideous gestalt. Enyo had rallied the valley folk just in time, and they had torn the monster apart before it could fully form.

It was their most significant victory to date. This arrogant “legend” from another world...They would defeat it, too! Enyo snorted in anger. Magic coursed through her veins, and frostflowers sprouted upon her scales.

“You will be a legend,” she promised the green dragon, “even in death.” She loosed another roar that caused significant ice shards to erupt from the ground. She rushed forward, a storm of frost and fury, quickly leaving her comrades behind.

The green monster faced her down. It flexed its claws; its jaws parted. Light, bright, and painful as the sun bloomed in the back of its throat.

It fired a beam of energy that scored a deep, searing band into the dirt. Grass and soil turned to ash; ice shards flew into the air. They dissolved into freezing rain that splashed against Enyo’s wings, and with a mighty flap, she launched herself upwards, claws reaching out towards the hell-beast of green.

Her talons met the beast’s armor with the shriek of steel on steel. The green monster must have been damaged; it loosed a sizzling hiss. It whirled to menace Enyo, its talons extended towards her wings, intending to rip and shred them, to hurl her out of the sky. As it slowly uncoiled, its shadow blotted out the valley below. The remaining defenders threw more magic and weapons at it, but all these bounced harmlessly off its scales.

Enyo’s expression remained frigid. But inside, her heart and mind were racing. Idea after idea was discarded: Projectiles couldn’t penetrate the monster’s scales, and its reason seemed armored against insidious enchantments. Physical blows could damage it, but barely: It was like trying to chop down a mighty redwood with a kitchen knife.

Yet rather than hold back, rather than toy with Enyo, the green monster gave as good as it got. It used its breath-weapon indiscriminately, not caring that when it missed, it burned deep fissures into the ground. After Enyo had dodged it several times, it found another mark: one of the settlements. The dragons and Beastclans had jointly built it, and a wail of horror rose from them as their homes were instantly reduced to ash.

For the first time since initiating the battle, Enyo turned to look at them. They had thrown all they could; their mages barely had enough energy to stand. They had lost all their weapons long ago and had been reduced to throwing chunks of debris at the monster.

“If they stay here, they will die,” Enyo realized, and she couldn’t bear that. For all her strength, she couldn’t accept that...

“Go!” she roared. As her comrades flinched back in disbelief, she commanded, “Take everything you can carry, and leave this place!”

The valley's inhabitants were unwilling to abandon her, their protector, and their home. Beyond the hills lay the barren waste of the Southern Icefield.... “It is still better than this place. Here, there is only fury now.”

And so the valley was abandoned. Enyo and the great green beast were left to battle each other. Fire against ice, each striving to quench the other. Dawn broke a few hours later, and still, the battle raged. The sun paused at its zenith, its light beating down on the combatants, and then it sank wearily below the horizon. Next is the moon's light failing to cool fighters’ tempers and induce torpor. It, too, fell without seeing a change. The combat continued unabated.

The sun and the moon spun overhead again and again. Enyo fought grimly now, not to protect, for there was nothing to save but to destroy. This terrible beast from another realm...Its intrusion on the once beautiful valley was a sin she could not forgive. For taking away the only refuge many had known, for laying waste to their home, it would have to die.

Enyo was powerful, but her strength was not limitless. Eventually, in fatigue, she sank to the ground. The green beast didn’t seem tired, though its armor was pitted and scored. It hovered above her, its mouth still agape. “You are weary,” it hissed through those unmoving, red-lined jaws.

Enyo snarled defiantly back. “No! I—” She stepped forward and tried to take off again but only stumbled.

“This battle is over, and I have won. I shall depart.” The green beast turned away.

“No,” Enyo said again. “No, I can...” The beast rose away, and her line of sight was clear. She now took in the devastated landscape: trees shredded like mown hay, scorched pits where lairs and dens had once stood. The ground was a hideous, churned-up mess, alternately burned and soaked.

“I can still fight....” She trailed off, finally sinking in exhaustion. Her legs twitched feebly. Her vision began to dim as fatigue overtook her, and the last thing she saw was the green beast rising away, undulating calmly into the sky.

~ ~ ~
Enyo awoke with a gasp, her heart beating hard. She pushed herself to her feet and looked around.

The valley was no more. Perhaps a few days had passed since that terrible battle, but no other living thing remained here. Even scavengers had avoided this place, fearful that the green beast would return.

The beast...What had it been? Had it been a dragon?

“I shall not cry,” Enyo told herself firmly. She did not limp so much as drag herself forward, leaving a deep trench in the mud. “I shall not...!”

Like the ice that surrounded the valley, slowly, her heart hardened until it was impenetrable and cold. Her face froze into a grim mask—not one of grief but of deep hatred and rage. She gazed at the sky, but the green beast wasn’t there. Of course, it wasn’t. “But it cannot fly forever. I will find it. I will destroy it....”

When she had recovered from her wounds, she set out. She went to other clans and demanded to be accepted into the training halls of those who produced the best warriors. Some families welcomed her courteously, and others laughed at her arrogance. All of them, without exception, eventually surrendered to her with incredible strength and consented to teach her their ways of battle.

Even as Enyo trained, she put out words to ask for information on the great green dragon. Only scraps of information came back: a whisper of fear here, an uncertain sighting there...nothing definite enough to compel her to abandon her training. So she clenched her jaws, and she grimly pressed on. When she learned all she could from a clan and had no more information, she would leave, suddenly vanishing at night. Her clanmates would awaken at dawn and find her gone, with nary a word of goodbye.

Thus, it was for the Sectonians: One afternoon, a pale blue Imperial arrived on their territory as the sunset. “I am Enyo, a warrior from the Southern Icefield,” she bellowed. Her eyes flashed fury; she shot fierce, poisonous glares at the guards threatening her. “I have come to the Sectonians to train alongside their greatest warriors.”

The guards bridled at this, and as one dragon, they prepared to drive her from their lands. It was only the arrival of Empress Mirage that stayed them. The Mirror launched herself from her tower, her gown shimmering in the light of the sunset, and the guards lowered their spears and knelt in obeisance. Enyo remained stubbornly standing, glaring at the Mirror, who now hovered before her, one paw extended.

Just before the Empress touched her brow, she winced and looked away. Mirage laughed a low and hollow sound. As the guards looked up in surprise, she waved her paw, and they obligingly withdrew.

On Mirage’s orders, Enyo was accepted into the clan. She was all too eager to show off her combat skills, which were, in fact, impressive—so much so that it wasn’t long before she became part of the Empire’s elite warrior group, later known as The Five.

Despite their incredible powers, the Five were generally well-regarded by other dragons, for most were civil, helpful drakes. Not so for Enyo. Losing that battle, her home, her friends...She had fought so hard and had come away with nothing to show for it but resentment. Over the past years, it had remained within her, filled her up, and consumed her entirely.

The dragons and Beastclans she had protected so long ago would have trouble recognizing her now—and it was entirely possible she would be unable to acknowledge them, too. The only thoughts that dominated her mind now were ones of becoming stronger—nay, invincible— that she might one day find the green dragon, rechallenge it—and this time, defeat it.

~ written by Disillusionist (254672)