The dragon graveyard.

Huge corpses of dragons with eternal flesh that never rotted piled high. The wind and rain picked the older bodies clean while the corpses near the top sagged as the flesh loosened from the bones after death. Vultures circled, a constant reminder of the death that reeked in the area.

Dragons sometimes flew south and attacked the Arasa. Their eternal nemesis, they were locked in a war generations long, but the battles few and far in between. Despite their numerous defeats, the Arasa made the pilgrimage to the Graveyard every ten years, entire tribes on the move across hundreds of miles, killing and dragging any dragons they came across.

They ate the dragons they brought down, absorbing the divine fire the dragons carried, absorbing the dragon’s life force, and the dragon’s power. Only the truly monstrous behemoths that made up the Graveyard was untouched.

Narus’s journey this time was his second pilgrimage. The previous one ten years ago he had been too young to truly comprehend the magnificence of the Graveyard, but he was only six then. Now, he was sixteen and a full grown adult with a gryphon of his own.

As if hearing his thoughts, Verif padded over on his huge paws, feathers ruffling as he shook it out. Narus reached for the reins and Verif crouched down, allowing Narus to swing onto his back.

Narus laughed. He could never get used to riding such a magnificent beast. He’d never be able to go back to the horses he rode in his youth after this.

A twitch of the reins sent Verif into a light run, the huge muscles that powered the wings and powerful front legs moving the shoulder blades up and down. Another twitch and the gryphon unfurled his wings, sprinting now. With a mighty leap, Verif and Narus soared into the sky, joining his tribemates.

A piercing cry came from behind him and he turned, slowing. His old friend Mana and her gryphon Revel flew up to join them. Only seventeen, she was already a scout messenger, known for their aerial skill.

“What are you doing?” she asked, matching his speed.

“Only flying,” he answered. “You?”

Mana grinned. “You’d won’t believe this! A dragon was seen ahead!” She laughed and broke away from their side by side flight, no doubt going to spread the news.

Sure enough, a blasting sound from the hunt leader’s dragon bone horn rang out. The hunting horn. The campfires that his tribemates gathered around with their gryphons below flickered one by one until the ground was too dark to see in the fading sunlight. Within five minutes, his entire tribe was airborne on their gryphons, staves and spears in hand.

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He gripped his own spear, sweat making his hand slippery in excitement.

A feral smile broke on his face, and Verif tossed his hand, reading his emotions. With a burst of speed, they raced ahead until they were just behind the hunt leader. The grizzled old man looked at them and held up a fist in greeting, which they returned in kind.

Minutes passed in silence as his tribe navigated around a mountain until finally, a dark serpentine shape moved in the darkness. The dragon was only medium sized, perhaps twenty or thirty gryphon lengths long. Still, bringing the corpse of a dragon would greatly increase their tribe’s prestige.

Before long, the entire tribe had their sights on the dragon. Narus’s heart pounded so hard it almost hurt, but he stayed his hand, waiting for the signal. Then, it came.

The dragon bone horn rang out once, twice, thrice. The dragon’s head shot up as it looked at them, but it was too late. The riders attacked with Narus in the lead.

At his command, Verif folded his wings and dove for the dragon’s head. He held his spear straight in a firm grip reminiscent of an eastern knight’s lance, ready to plunge the exploding tip into the dragon’s glowing yellow eyes. So eager was he that he almost missed the telltale opening of the dragon’s mouth.

As fast as they could, he urged Verif into a turn and a column of divine draconic fire roared past them, lighting up the night. The dragon swept the air from side to side and Narus forced himself to retreat, spitting in frustration as the dragon roared in pain. Another platoon circled around the fire and attacked from the back. It was unfortunate that he didn’t manage first blood, but it couldn’t be helped.

Pouring magic into his spear again, he charged the dragon and plunged the tip into a chink in the dragon’s armor. He had to hold back a smile.

When he was younger, he had doubted that such a small weapon could harm a dragon.

It seemed so silly now.

The tip of the spear exploded and the smell of seared flesh and burnt scales hit his nose. Yanking the spear, the shaft of star steel came away without the spearhead. He leaned back and snatched another spearhead from his saddle pouch, attaching it firmly to the shaft as they retreated temporarily.

As soon as the head was secure, he guided Verif back toward the dragon, releasing a second explosion within the dragon. All around them, the gryphon riders detonated their weapons while magicians released bolts of magic at the dragon.

He was swooping for his fifth pass when smoke rose from the dragon’s maw and it swayed weakly. Slowly, it fell backward, a huge crash as the body hit the floor. A cheer went up from his tribe and he found his own voice among them, throat hoarse from the yelling.

They would eat well tonight.

Hundreds of gryphons filled the air, casting massive shadows on the ground. Thousands of lengths of ropes linked the gryphons to the dragon. Muscles straining, the gryphons lifted the massive body and slowly resumed their journey back north, to their ancestral hunting grounds.

One day, they will take it back.