Nine days had passed since the villagers had spoken with Mystica, Merlin, Scream, and the little fairy girls. When the talking had ended, the villagers had stayed that night in the safety of the trees with Mystica and her family. Musica had played her flute as only she could. Songs of happy times. Songs of children playing. Songs of sunny days, and cloudless nights when there were more stars in the sky than you could ever count.
That night, the sky had been cloudless. It was a near perfect night. One meant for sleeping outside, on the ground, next to the lake, under an ocean of stars that twinkled just like diamonds in the sky.
The villagers had returned home. Scream himself had carried them. A trip that had taken some of them six days on foot had was over in an hour or two. As the villagers arrived at their villages, they’d had to explain to their families and friends why there were dragons flying in the sky. And why those dragons were not dangerous to anyone in the village. They explained that the dragons were there to protect the villages from any attack that might come from those that had threatened them. They explained that there were packs of wolves that were patrolling the forests outside of the villages that were also there to protect them. And that the dragons, and the wolves would not harm anyone.
It had taken a few days for the villagers to adjust to their new guardians. After all, they knew the stories of the wolves that had attacked villages in past. And they knew the stories of the dragons having totally destroyed villages, leaving nothing standing, and nothing alive.
It was on the ninth day, in the middle of the afternoon, that Mystica arrived in one of the villages. She met with the village elders, and leaders. And she told them that men from the foothills of the mountains, and from villages in the mountains, were heading toward their village. That it was the intent of those men to attack everyone that supported her. That cared for her. That considered her, the White Witch, to be their friend.
“The dragons, wolves, eagles and hawks will defend your village. They will take care of you. The dragon Scream, and the dragon Merlin have both said you will be safe.” She’d spent several hours with the villagers, reassuring them. And then, as quickly as she had appeared, Mystica was gone.
It was in the middle of the night. A moonless night. With clouds filling the entire sky. That’s when the men from the foothills made their move. They approached the village from the woods. Carefully encircling it. Waiting in the dark, unobserved. Or so they believed. For unknown to them the wolves watched. And waited. Silently stalking them. Until the time was right. And three dragons glided through the night. Silently. Just above the trees. Hidden from sight. They too were waiting. Until the time was right. And hiding in perches in the trees both in the village and surrounding it, were eagles and hawks. Watching everything unfold. Watching the men take their positions, as if they believed they were not being unobserved.
When everyone was in place, one of the men lit a torch. And waved it. That was the signal to the others that it was time. The men in the forest took their weapons. Swords. Axes. Clubs. And their bows and arrows. Some of them even had crossbows. Those with bows and crossbows stood up and prepared to fire.
And when they did, each of them was attacked from behind by a wolf. The wolves attacking their arms, and backs, and necks. Taking them down. The wolves did not kill. They simply stopped. Each archer was injured. Wounded and bleeding. But they would all live.
The other men, yielding their weapons, had run into the village. And when they had, the hawks and eagles had descended on them. Falling from the trees, talons extended. Using their talons and their beaks to strike at the men. The men tried to fight back. Swinging their weapons. They managed to strike a few of the hawks and eagles. Leaving them injured on the ground.
That is when the dragons landed in the village. They did not use their flames. They used their talons, their tails, and their teeth. Raking through the attacking men. Not one single man of the attacking group was left unscathed. No one was killed that night. But every man was injured. They had, in the end, dropped their weapons and fled. Blindly. Into the darkness once again. Leaving the village safe.
The dragons, the hawks, the eagles, and the wolves had collected up their injured, and their dead, and had left, as quietly as they had appeared. That’s when Scream had landed. In the village. And there he stayed. Waiting for the dawn. When the villagers would wake up. And he would tell them what had happened in the darkness, while they slept.