“Gavri,” The old voice was gruff and stern and the young colt turned to watch as the old unicorn approached. His coat was coarse from age, and his mane hung long and stringy. His eyes, though old, held wisdom from all of his 200 years. They also happened to be sharp enough to catch a young colt's every attempt at Pre-mature flight.

“Gavri, you know the rules,” the old Unicorn said in his rough voice as he approached. “No flying until a colt has reached…”

“The age of at least 20,” Gavri finished for him. “ But Talin, I’m only 3 months away from that! Just a little bit of air, I won’t go very high. And I’m ready. You know that. I ‘v passed all my training and came out top of my age. And what's 3 months anyway?”

“3 months,” Talin responded, “ is how long your going to wait until you take off.” He smiled at the sad look in the colt’s eyes. “Chin up Gavri, as you said yourself, what’s 3 months? Especially if you’ve been waiting 19 years.”

Gavri nodded solemnly, looking at the ground, the mood-stone at the base of his horn turning a sullen gray. Suddenly, they heard the sound of running hoof beats behind them. Talin whirled around to see one of the younger messengers galloping towards them at full speed.

“Talin…” The young stallion gasped as he stumbled to a stop. “ You’re needed by the Xurdin… The Dragons are on the move… Hurry,” Talin nodded, as Gavri’s eyes grew wide with fear. The Dragons. The huge fire-breathing beasts that lived in the caves of the Baztine Mountains. Though a small few were peaceful, the majority were monsters. The last time they had moved was 130 years ago, when Talin had stood as the Xurdin ((The Xurdin is like an exalted ruler of sorts)), and they had roasted nearly a third of their population before they had managed to drive them back to the Baztines, where they had been locked by the strongest Amvri ((Mages)) through complicated spells. The protection had held then, until now it seems.

“Where were they spotted,” Talin asked, his voice commanding. He sounded like the leader he had been when he was younger, before he had surrendered the position of Xurdin to Kunte, who had been serving for 50 years now.

“20 Dinns ((1 Dinn=1/4 mile)) east of Somla about 3 hours ago.” The stallion replied, his stone flickering in distress. Talin nodded again, his stone a calm deep blue. Gavri watched him in awe. This was why he admired the old stallion so much. Though many said his greatness was passed along with his position as Xurdin because of his simple surrender after Kunte challenged him, but Gavri knew different, as did Kunte himself. Talin had his reasons for giving up his position, and it was likely that no one would ever know what they were except Talin himself.

The old stallion turned to Gavri, his eyes stern. “You get back to Basla with the others. Warn them of the Dragons and get everyone you can back to the caves. And run, not fly.” He could see the disappointment in the colt’s eyes. “I’m not going to risk your safety, even in a dire situation such as this. Now go. Hurry, The Dragons are probably almost above Somla now, and will be back here soon. Go!” Gavri Wheeled around on his haunches and shot off at his fastest Gallop, stretching his head down and racing against the wind to get back to Basla to warn the others.

It took him 45 minutes of hard galloping before he reached his home city of Basla. He ran in, trumpeting the warning they had all been taught to memorize when they were only 6 or 7. Equine bodies flew from their homes at the sound of the warning, and seeing Gavri’s sweat-soaked body, and the stone at the base of his horn, which was black with fear, they all started flooding toward the caves.

The Caves were deep tunnels blasted into the side of the Basla Cría, the mountain range that Basla rested at the foot of. They had been created by a group of Amvri after the first dragon attack, nearly 1,000 years ago as shelter for those who would not be fighting. They still used it, and it was the most effective form of protection they could find. Gavri had often wondered what would happen if the dragons ever found the caves. He decided not to think about that possibility now.

At the head of the Rush, Gavri Trumpeted again, to collect any stragglers and headed off, setting a grueling pace across the plains toward the towering mountain slopes. A few of the younger stallions took flight, thinking to get there faster, only to be reminded, not all to kindly, that flight only made one more vulnerable to the Dragons.

It took them only minutes to reach the mouth of the caves, where they all slowed to a trot and moved orderly inside, finding their family quarters just as they had in the drills that were preformed yearly, to make sure they would all be ready when the day came.

Gavri stepped off to the side as they moved past him, scanning the faces looking for familiars. There was his father, his usually strong face pulled into anxious lines. Behind him followed his mother, the worry on her face as plain as day as she pushed his young brother before her. The colt’s eyes were huge with fear, the stone at the base of his horn black as ebony.

He watched his family filing into the caves and continued scanning the crowds. Where was she?

The last of the herd moved into the caves and Gavri’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t there. He spun on his haunches and cantered into the caves where the last stragglers were entering their quarters. His hooves clatter against the stone as he races to where his family is housed and slides to a halt as his mother looks up, relief flooding her eyes.

“Varri never came in,” he watches as his mother’s face falls with these words. She rises to her feet and moves toward him.

“No, Gavri, please—,” “I have to go find her mother. I’m sorry,” Gavri turned to go but was stopped by his father’s voice.

“Gavri,” His voice was stern as Gavri turned around. The older stallion walked over and studied his son for a moment. He saw the defiance in his eyes. “Be careful son.”

Gavri nodded solemnly, then turned to go. He trotted down the hallway and out the cave entrance. For a moment, fear clutched at his heart like a knurled fist, but he shook his head and galloped off across the plains back toward Basla.

He ran back into the now deserted town.

“Varri! Varri!” he screamed, his eyes searching, his ears hoping to catch the smallest sound. He galloped through the streets, hoping for any sign of her. He glanced at the sky and fear froze him in his tracks.

On the distant horizon three large flying shapes were quickly advancing, tongues of orange flame streaking from their heads to scorch the land below and, there was a small silvery-white form flying toward them.

Varri.

Suddenly, the realization struck him. Varri had been training as an Amvri for 5 years now. She was going to try to fight the dragons.

“VARRI!!” He screamed and galloped off at top speed.

As he watched her form pull further and further away, he realized that he would never catch her on land. Without thinking, he spread his great wings to their full span and leaped into the air.

Wings pumping, he raced after her. Though she had more experience flying than he, he had spent years toning his muscles and was much stronger than she. He quickly caught up with her.

She turned her head, surprised. “Gavri! What are you doing here?”

“ I could ask you the same thing,” Gavri replied sourly. “What in God’s name do you think your ding?”

Varri turned her head back toward the dragons.

“Go home, Gavri. You don’t belong here.”

“And neither do you!” Gavri exploded. “This is a job for our best Amvri, not a filly that’s only been training for 5 years!”

Varri rounded on him. “Only 5 years! You have no idea of the vigorous torture that they have been putting me through. I’m more powerful than my teachers, even untrained. I may not know all the correct spells, I’m going to do the best I can to protect our home.”

“Varri this is suicide! I’m not going to let you risk your life—,”

“Don’t you think I already know that? You don’t think I’ve already calculated the risk, and know what the chances are of my surviving this? My mind is made up, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Gavri hesitated, then, “And there’s nothing you can do to make me go back.”

Varri started to protest, but Gavri cut her off. “I’m not going to let you go off and risk your life alone. No, you can’t make me change my mind. Either we both go, or nobody goes.”

Grudgingly, Varri consented and they turned silently toward their adversary.

They flew in silence for nearly a half hour before they got close to the dragons. At this point, the two of them ducked behind a boulder to make their plans. Both of their stones were black with fear, though both tried their best to hide it. After a few minutes, they had their plans outlined and they took off again. Varri flew low so as not to attract attention while Gavri Flew in wide arcs in front of the beasts, trying to attract their attention and distract them from Varri, who was quickly advancing behind them.

As Gavri swooped upwards in a large loop, he felt the heat as a string of flame flashed by, narrowly missing his full tail. He turned to see three massive heads watching him, beady red eyes following his every move. He zipped out of the way just as another tongue of flame flashed underneath him.

As Gavri dodged the strings of fire, Varri stealthily moved up behind them. Her mouth moved slowly as she mumbled words in an ancient tongue and her horn began to glow faintly. Her voice raised slightly in volume until she gave a last shout that made the air around them crack. Two of the dragons plummeted to the ground, their wings turned to stone. Upon impact they smashed, killing them instantly.

The remaining dragon reared back its gigantic head and shrieked in rage. With a flap of it’s huge leathery wings it sped toward her, talons outstretched. For a moment, she froze in fear, and then she screamed a few words and a barrier of light came between her and the dragon. As the beast slammed into the wall he once again screamed his rage and began ramming it with his forefeet. Beads of sweat rolled down her horn from the effort put into keeping the barrier up.

She knew that she was weakening, so she gathered up the last reserves of her strength and thrust them into the barrier and pushed it forward, colliding with the oncoming dragon. The Barrier shattered and knocked the dragon back. He began to fall, but then regained his wings and once again sped towards the now defenseless Varri.

Suddenly, he felt something long and sharp thrust into his back. Gavri pulled his horn from the dragon’s back, black blood dripping from it and stinging his skin where it touched. He trumpeted a war cry and thrust himself back into the air again.

The Dragon turned quickly around and saw the little flying shape that was tormenting him. Thinking to make quick work of him, he opened his mouth and let out a billow of fire. Gavri dodged it quickly, keeping his wits about him. His stone had turned a deep burning red in his anger. He sped toward the dragon’s massive head, his rock-hard hooves stretched in front of him. The dragon paused in surprise of this measly little thing that flew at him with such confidence. In this Pause Gavri took his opportunity and slammed his hooves into the beast’s skull, right between it’s eyes.

It fell quickly to the ground, a look of such surprise on its face, where it landed with a thud. Gavri watched it fall, and then rushed over to Varri who was quickly losing altitude. He flew under her belly, taking her weight and lowers her safely to the ground where she collapsed. He stood besides her, watching the skies for more dragons. After a while, he saw a few silvery forms flying quickly in their direction.

Gavri started yelling and rearing to get their attention. The figures descended slowly towards him. He didn’t recognize them, but figured that they must be Amvri. As they alighted on the turf beside him, they surveyed the scene.

“What are you children doing out here during a dragon raid?” the eldest asked.

“Talin sent me back to Basla to warn the town of the dragons, but my best friend, Varri never came up to the caves, so I went to look for her. She’s been training as an Amvri for 5 years now, and was determined to help in the fight against the dragons. I couldn’t convince her to turn back, so I came with her. She drained herself and couldn’t maintain flight.”

The Amvri nodded solemnly and one of them flew over to inspect the bodies of the dragons. The other looked at them sternly.

“Though you proved that you can handle yourselves quite well, what you did today was spontaneous and irresponsible. You could have easily been killed. The time of the Dragons is no time to play hero. You will both be firmly reprimanded for this foolhardiness after things have settled down some.” The old stallion turned to go, then thought better of it.

“On a personal note, you did a good job. It usually takes 3 fully trained Amvri to take down even one dragon of this size, and you two took care of all three by yourselves. Basla will thank you for this, I can guarantee it.”

The other stallion came back to report that two of the dragons had died when they met the ground because of wings turned to stone, and they other had a smashed skull, a hole in his back near his spine which would have killed him if it had been a foot farther to the left, and smashed talons. The old stallion looked upon the two youths with a pleased look in his old eyes. He then snapped back to his businesslike manner and turned to his companion.

“Please escort these two back to the Basla caves as quickly as possible. Deliver them to their families and assure anyone who asks that we are holding up fine.”

The younger stallion nodded and looked to the youths in admiration, then told them to come on with him. Varri had to lean on Gavri’s shoulder to make it back, and they traveled the whole way on hoof, so it took about 3 hours before they made it back. When they finally did get back, his mother exclaimed and crooned over him enough to turn his stone pink with embarrassment. She inspected every inch of him, looking for the smallest scratch. She exclaimed over the burns from the dragon blood around the base of his horn. After a few uncomfortable minutes, the young stallion that had escorted them cleared his throat to get their attention.

“I’m sorry I have to break up this happy reunion ma’am, but if you could tell me where this young filly’s family is quartered—,”

“Oh nonsense!” His mother said, bustling over to Varri and transferring her weight to herself. “The poor thing can barely stand up. She’ll be fine here,” She turned to Gavri’s father. “Why don’t you go tell her family that she’s here and all right,” she turned back to the Amvri. “ Thank you very much for bringing them home safe and sound.” The stallion nodded and left. Gavri’s father walked out to go tell Varri’s family that she was all right.

It was nearly 4 months before the caves were opened up again, the announcement that the dragons had been driven back into their caves came to great joy as stiff bodies dragged themselves out of the tunnels. It had been only a few days since they had been out and the days were just starting to fall back into normal routine when a messenger arrived for Gavri and Varri.

“The Great Xurdin Kunte has requested the presence of Gavri and Varri immediately,” the messenger’s voice rang clearly around the town. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. By this time, the story of Gavri and Varri’s heroic fight had traveled around and in some cases been stretched way out of proportion. The two looked at each other, and then followed the messenger out of the village.

About 4 hours later the two waited nervously outside the Xurdin’s chamber. They had tried a bit of nervous conversation, but had finally given in to the silence. They heard a rustling of the scarlet curtains at the end of the hall and Kunte emerged. Then both fell to one knee and bowed their heads in respect.

They heard his sigh and then his hooves taping lightly on the carpet. Then his voice, a gentle baritone, “Oh, get up. I’ve always hated that bowing custom anyway. I would have done away with it when I was first initiated, but I do believe that half the council of elders would have keeled over in shock at the suggestion.”

The two slowly rose, slightly confused. Kunte studied them, and then turned his head back to look at someone behind him.

“So, these are the kids you’ve been telling me about? Seems that they live up to your praise, old one.” From behind the scarlet curtain came the smiling face of Talin. He walked up beside the Xurdin as if they were old friends.

“You know that I never exaggerate, though this is a little more than I expected from them this early.” He smiled at the shocked expressions on Gavri and Varri’s faces.

“All right, down to business,” The Xurdin said. “I called you here to personally thank you two for the service that you supplied. I do believe that if you hadn’t acted out as you did, Basla would probably be as charred as Northern Somla.”

He turned his head and called back behind the curtains. A young colt came through, balancing a pillow on his nose as he walked. He set it down at the Xurdin’s feet.

“Thank you, Rintz, that will be all.” The colt bobbed his head and scampered off through the curtains. “A decent kid,” the Xurdin said, almost to himself, “though much to shy.” She shook himself out of his reverie.

“In thanks from the Village of Basla and the nation of Dolmran, I present each of you with this medal of Valor. Wear them in pride.” Talin reached down and took each medal in his teeth and fitted it over each of their necks. He then took a step back, pride gleaming in his eyes. With a final nod, the Xurdin turned and headed back through the curtains, Talin following close behind. Before they went through, Kunte paused and turned to Talin.

“You know, old one, I think you may be right about that one. I better watch my job, or before I know it, He’ll be pushing me from my throne.”

Gavri gaped as Talin turned around and winked one gray eye at him before they both disappeared behind the curtain.