This WOULD HAVE been the beginning of the next series if I would have made another about them. But... don't get your hopes up. 

            Dreary light flowed languidly through the open windows, illuminating the room softly. Outside, white snow reflected the white clouds above. Black trees rose out of the ground, covered in a soft blanket of drooping snow, their grasping hands rattling in the wind. One such branch tapped at their window as the wind screamed around the small cottage. Jack Frost climbed up the panes, creating unique designs on the glass.

            But inside, the room was warm and sleepy. A fire crackled in the corner, the hot blaze sending flickering light across the starch white bed and brick walls. Portraits lined the walls, all smiling faces and most marked with dark hair and light eyes. In a couple dragons rose up, nudging a dark haired man, or smiling with a young woman, and even one flying, followed by a trail of smoke. Two pairs of boots stood next to the door, along with several pairs of woman’s slippers and fashionable boots. Books lined a bookshelf and were held up by a dragon figurine.

            It was cozy, but not warm enough to prompt the couple sitting in bed to start their day. On cold winter days such as these, there was not much to do except stay inside and read or cook anyway, and the sheets were amazingly warm. They enjoyed each other’s company though, and maybe even more so than ever.

The woman sighed immensely as she pulled the covers to her shoulders.

            “Are you feeling okay?” the man asked concernedly.

            “Yes. Just nauseated that’s all. You should be used to this. I’ve been having them for months now,” the woman replied softly, stroking her belly meditatively. “Oh!” she suddenly exclaimed, grabbing his hand and gently placing it on her stomach, “Feel it? Oh its kicking!”

            The man felt a leap of joy as he felt a tiny foot push against his wife’s stomach. He smiled up at his wife, “Feisty. Just like its mother.” But even with his jubilation, he couldn’t hide his nervousness. He had always wanted a family. Wanted children. But now that he was finally to be a father, he was overcome with anxiety. He was a Rider, the partner of a very big, very powerful dragon who was at the moment running his hand through the fire in the living room. Riders weren’t ordinary people. They couldn’t have children. In fact, this was the first child ever recorded in Rider history. The big question was, would his wife survive the pregnancy? Would the child? Would the child be different? And as her pregnancy progressed, so did his anxiety. All these questions floated around his head, drawing his eyebrows together in worry.

            His wife gently reached out and brushed his cheek, “Don’t worry Ralem. I will be fine. We’ll be okay,” she said, kissing him softly.

            He took her hands in his own, his eyes warm yet dark with worry, “I know. It’s just… I don’t want to lose you.”

            “The babies kicking like a kangaroo and I’m feeling fine. You shouldn’t worry so much,” she said, smiling encouragingly at him.

            A knock on the door.

            They froze for a second. “Oh, it’s probably the goat herder. He’s probably frozen  out there in the cold, the poor boy,” she started to get up.

            “No,” Ralem said quickly, setting her back in the bed, “Rest. Jaydon can do it.”

            “Why have you been treating me like glass? I can take care of myself,” the woman said, but she fell back appreciatively as her stomach took a turn for the worse.

            Ralem’s eyes turned distant as he contacted the dragon in his head, Can you get the door?

            No reply, but he knew that the dragon had listened by the shifting of shadows through the cracked-open door. The dragon was as swift as a cat, and even though he looked like a human at the moment, he made no sound at all.

            Now he opened the door and peered out into the snowy wilderness, searching for the familiar brown coat of the goat boy. But nothing met his vision but blinding waves of cold. He shook his head, thinking it had been a branch smacking against a window and turned around to go back into the warm cottage.

            Then a sudden shockwave of some sort of emotion or something exploded within him and rendered him frozen.

            On the bed, his Rider, Ralem froze also, his eyes like dinner plates.

            For a second the dragon stopped, unable to think. Then he looked down to find a bloody javelin tip protruding from his stomach. Panic, but more apparently, anger overwhelmed him.  He spun around, the javelin banging the door and shuddering through his body. Suddenly, from seemingly nowhere a group of men clad in white, wielding swords and javelins. They seemed to be expecting him to drop like a fly.

            But anger overwhelmed him like a mask of red hate, and out from his palms and elbows appeared vicious claws. He jumped into the group, slashing and punching, growling and stabbing wildly. The men fell like grass before him, but ten men replaced every one that fell. They poked and prodded with swords and javelins and his blood fell like rain. But he was not done yet. His eyes a furious green, he summoned a fierce blizzard, the wind beating down his attackers and freezing their eyes out of their sockets. But this was not entirely good for him. He was losing a lot of blood and energy and unconsciousness drew him slowly in. He narrowed his eyes. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

            Inside, Ralem was curled up in a ball, breathing heavily. The woman drew closer to him, her hair brushing his face, “What’s wrong?” she asked.

            He looked up, his eyes watery, “I failed you, Arianna. Go, go and hide. You know where to go. Men are here. They just,” he looked at his stomach as if expecting to see a sharp point sprouting from it, “They’re bringing down my dragon. He can’t hold on much longer. Go!”

            “No!” she yelled, “I’m not going to leave you! Come on!” she said, wrapping his arm around her.

            He yelled in pain, “I… I can’t. Listen Arianna, go! Please, go.”

            The shattering of a window. Glass sprayed all over the floor as Arianna screamed. Boots appeared, then legs, and finally a man clad from head to toe in white slid through the window. Ralem, gritting his teeth in pain, edged back so his body blocked hers from view. Taking in a sharp breath, he summoned his power and sucked the air out of the man’s body. He fell to the floor, dead. But more were coming and they were running out of time.

            Jaydon speared another man before sinking to his knees, trying desperately to pull the javelin out of his stomach. His own blood squirted like a fountain, blooming on the snow like rose petals. Black clouded his vision as he fought to stay awake.

            This time when the man had slid through the window, Ralem sunk into the bed and let him approach. He had just enough energy left to say, “If you… lay hands on my wife…. I will hunt each and every one of you down and kill you all. You understand?”

            Jaydon fell face-forward into the snow, and took one shuttering breath before his heart stopped beating.

            Ralem also sank back into his pillow, his eyes looking at nothing. Arianna touched him, realizing he was gone, and screamed like a banshee. She grabbed her lamp, a vase, anything, and started throwing it at the men but that did not stop their approach. She crawled to the corner of the room, sobbing wildly and screaming at the attackers. Then suddenly she stopped, her eyes big, “I’m in labor,” she said, as if it were a simple conversation she would be having with her husband. “I’m in labor!”