Prologue – The Unsung Song
Written by Ben
You can find the rest of the story in the Fjordur Tamables filter. The story starts in Dimorphodon.
~~~
It always comes back full force during her dreams.
The screams, the snow, and the blood that painted the cavern red.
Even the freezing cold that blew through the rock like a storm had been overwhelmed by the sounds of the battle that took place in that tight, confined space. But there was simply nothing she could do then. And there was nothing she could do now. Not like this.
“DADDY!” she had shouted then, lunging forward to protect her father.
She knew the risk of being struck by the claws of a Ravager. They weren’t a carnivore native to the snow, but the tale of their horde had spread far and wide throughout Fjordur. Ravagers were anything but civil beings. They sought bloodshed as much as a two-leg. And worst, they cared not for food. They cared only for glory. For the taste of blood against their tongues. It really begged the question why Ravagers were roaming outside the caves of Fjordur.
But she didn’t care then. She just wanted the night to go back to the way it always was. Feasting on what scraps Father could find together, her mother’s tail wrapped around her skinny body, her father’s soothing voice putting her to sleep as he told the same-old tale of the Prophecy.
The Prophecy… a legend uttered from a seer promising peace for all.
Something smacked into the juvenile’s side, throwing her into the wall. THWACK! Her vision swarmed with spots as she saw Father limp toward her, a shake in the back of his legs. The ravager stood behind the large theropod with blood dripping from his claws. Mother let out a roar of fury, charging and slamming the brunt of her head into the ravager. The ravager was flung to the entrance of the cave, his claws screeching across the hard rock. She blinked once, and the ravager’s jaws were latched onto her Mother, ripping off flesh chunk by chunk. The sound of claws hitting the ground filled the air. She slowly rose from the ground, her arms weakly outstretched toward her flailing mother.
“M–mommy…”
Father shot to Mother’s side in an instant, crushing the ravager with his jaws. He ripped the limp beast off the scales of his mate and tossed him to the side. His corpse crumpled to the ground with a thud.
“Lumi, my dear, are you okay?”
Father buried his snout in Mother’s neck, huffing with a rumble in his throat.
“We’ve been through worse, Iceberg. Let us focus on protecting our darling.”
Father nodded, pulling away from Mother with big eyes. Mother let out a whimper of worry. She stared at the entrance to the cave, her arms pressed tight to her chest.
“Iceberg… behind you.”
Father’s head whipped around. When he exhaled, mist shot out from his nostrils. His eyes narrowed, talons curling up in anticipation. Growls came from the entrance.
Her head tilted. She could barely see through her waning vision, but it looked like more Ravagers were stepping and closer to the couple, their fangs bared and their bodies low to the ground. Behind them, a larger, bulkier Ravager stood taller than the rest. The young Yutyrannus felt her feathers ruffle at the sight of her dark, midnight hide. According to the stories, it wasn’t uncommon for a Ravager to have hide with dark colors. But for a Ravager to have hide the color of pitch black?
“Mommy… Daddy…” the young Yutyrannus whimpered.
The black-skin Ravager looked at the dead corpse on the ground, unintimidated and unfazed. She turned to the Ravager to her left with a snarl.
“You. Take the body out of here.”
“Yes, ma’am.” the Ravager galloped over to the dead body, gently grabbing it by the leg and dragging it out of the cave. Five Ravagers besides their pack leader stood in the way, blocking the Yutyrannus family from the exit.
The pack leader sniffed the air. She let out a soft growl at Father and Mother.
“Two-leg carnivores think they’re so mighty and strong, do they not?” the pack leader tapped her claws against the hard rock. The snowfall was beginning to slow from above.
“There’s been enough murder for today. Carnivores can coexist in harmony. I know it. I feel it. I believe in it. Can’t you see? We can share the lesser animals. We can share territory, hunting grounds. Senseless fighting will only drive the land to turmoil, and our kinds to the end of ends.”
The Ravager of black let out a chuckle. She took a step forward. The other Ravagers followed suit.
“Foolish, foolish Yutyrannus…” the pack leader let out a loud cackle. Mother shook, her jaw clenched tight. Blood still trickled down the sides of the two of them, pooling up with the fallen snow collecting on the floor.
“The last thing Ravagers would ever want is peace.”
Mother stomped her foot into the ground, letting out a bellow at the Ravagers. The Ravagers barked back, charging forward and leaping at the two Yutyrannus parents. The young Yutyrannus let out a cry, rushing forward in an attempt to help again.
“MOMMY! DADDY!”
“No!” Father roared, bashing his head into a Ravager. “Go, Blizzard, go my darling! Run! RUN!”
Father’s pleads were met with a claw to his eye. He let out a howl of pain as his knees buckled. Two Ravagers were ripping away at the back of his wounded leg. Mother was already laying on the ground in a pool of her own blood, the black-scaled Ravager standing victorious above her with guts trailing from her mouth to the ground. She lapped up the blood, barking at her fellow dogs.
“Get the runt.”
The Ravagers dispersed from Mother’s body, pouncing toward the exit of the cave. But the little Yutyrannus had already disappeared into the thick snow. The black-skin Ravager spat out a chunk of flesh from her mouth. Carnivores tasted horrible. Their meat was not as tender as that of a lesser animal.
A weak roar came from the male Yutyrannus. The black-skin Ravager’s eyes darted over. A smirk tugged at her lips when Father uttered something under his breath.
“Curse me if you wish,” the black-skin Ravager declared. “You will die all the same. You and the rest of the pitiful believers.”
“Lumi, my dear…”
Father rose to his feet with a stumble. The black-skin Ravager looked up, her heart skipping for just a beat. Father limped toward the corpse of his mate, before collapsing onto his stomach. Something dribbled down his bare face. Milky, thick tears.
“I have failed to protect you.”
Father closed his eyes, coughing loudly. Blood trickled from his tongue. It was his own. “My love,”
“I will– see you– in Valhalla.”
Bump bump. Bump bump. The Ravager’s ears tingled as the heartbeat of the old dinosaur faded into the soft sound of the snow billowing outside. For a second, she stared at the couple, her joints stiff and her tail tucked between her legs.
Love. A strange thing, is it not?
The smile on the Ravager’s face only grew, reaching ear to ear.
“Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.”
Footsteps thundered across the cave again. The Ravager did not turn her head at the noise. She took a whiff of the air, but she did not smell fresh blood. Only the stale snow, and the smell of a battle that had already been won mere moments ago.
“I do not smell the runt. Did you catch it?”
“Wrath, we could not find the irksome juvenile. It blends in with the snow all too well!” one of the Ravagers barked. “Wrath, you cannot expect us to go out of our way to kill a carnivore that is not even grown–”
Wrath glared, cocking her head with squinted eyes. As quick as she turned, a slit appeared in the rebellious Ravager’s throat. The other Ravagers yipped and whimpered at the sight of the body crumbling to the ground. The poor beast convulsed, once, then twice, before its eyes rolled up to the back of the head.
“Do not forget. I am to be referred to as Regent Wrath. The Ravager King never excused weakness. And you know what happened to the old hag. We will rebuild our horde, we will rebuild our culture to what it was before. Not just for the Ravagers, but for the carnivores too.”
Wrath stepped back and forth, her paws so quiet it was like she was not moving at all. The other Ravagers whimpered, bowing their heads and bodies for the queen of black.
“If you cannot handle hunting something as weak as a hatchling, then you do not have the right of being called a Ravager. You do not have the right to breathe the same air as the worthy.” Wrath spat up a glob, dropping it onto the corpse of the dead Ravager beneath her. She kicked the body to the side, walking past her pack with quiet, yet fast steps.
“We have distracted ourselves long enough in this bitter cold. When all the carnivores of the snow see what we, the Ravagers, have done to these two-leg carnivores, they will know the Ravagers are not to be meddled with. We will return to our position as the worthy carnivores! We, the Ravager Horde, shall bring Fjordur back to the glory days!”
Wrath slapped her tail against the ground. The other Ravagers shot up, rushing to her side, all shouting “YES, REGENT WRATH! YES, MA’AM!” or something of the sort. Wrath let out a huff as they stepped out into the snow.
“There is still yet more glory to earn. The cowardly wyvern’s newest mission has presented an opportunity for us to reclaim our honor,” Wrath barked at the others as they marched through the cold. “A lone Velonsaur must be hunted. Their elusive kind, here in Vannaland… how very, very intriguing.”
~
It was still snowing hard.
Blizzard was curled up under a naked pine tree, swallowed up by the storm of snow. She shivered so hard she could barely breathe. Her feathers were not grown enough for her to handle this harsh cold.
The screams of her parents still echoed in her mind, over and over again. She shut her eyes tight, tears falling down her cheeks as their roars broke through her very mind. Her body rose up and down as she huffed in the cold air bit by bit.
Think happy thoughts, happy thoughts, Blizzard thought desperately.
She tried to think about the song Father would always sing to her. The song of how carnivores would one day learn to live in harmony with one another. That whatever would rock Fjordur with tragedy would be stopped, that the land would become a better place with the Five.
The Five…
Five carnivores, to stop this terror.
“In– a land– of claws and teeth,” Blizzard whimpered. “These wars wage for too long…”
Her memory was failing her. The song was being overwhelmed by the barks of the Ravagers. The song was being overwhelmed by her pain.
“Predators– sing a song.”
“Five carnivores unite…”
“To… end… this…”
But the rest of the melody soon trickled away from her thoughts.
What was the point?
What was the point remembering a song that didn’t hold true during this dark time?
Five carnivores, to stop an unseen threat. It only sounded like a fantasy. A fairy tale to ease the minds of the carnivores who fought for scraps every day, getting barely enough to feed their children. Carnivores like Blizzard, and her parents.
Maybe a Prophecy did exist. Maybe it did exist. Maybe Fjordur would be okay against this unseen catastrophe.
But even if it was, it didn’t matter. Because for Blizzard, she was not one of the five carnivores. She was just ordinary amongst extraordinary. She was not fated to survive, nor was she fated to ever be protected by the song.
Her parents most certainly weren’t.
And now, she was just an heir. An–
HEIR OF GRIEF.
~
Author's Note
Hi.
I'm writing Ark fanfic again. I think.
This story, HEIR OF GRIEF, is a non-canon spin-off story of The Obelisk by Moon. Writing this tale now, I have always wondered what happens to the ones left in the snow. Those who are not part of some great prophecy. Those who are not destined to save the world. Normal folks simply caught in the crossfire of something bigger than them. HEIR OF GRIEF simply aims to answer this question by exploring the perspective of these nobodies.
The story will have new, original characters. It will also have recurring characters. Though, I won't spoil the fun and say who.
If your taste is more catered to non-canon direct sequel that explores the perspectives of the aforementioned "destined heroes" again, then reading PrimalApex's JOURNEY may be more appealing to you.
Likewise.. it is recommended to at least read the entirety of The Obelisk before reading HEIR OF GRIEF. While it is a spin-off, some of the story will take place after the climax of its predecessor.
I will say it again, but this is unofficial. None of the hypotheticals in the story should be considered canon. (The Obelisk isn't canon anyway, as it will eventually be rewritten to a story called Rune).
Until then.
~~~
Rise from the snow, HEIR OF GRIEF.
Show the world your rage.
Make them fear the unstoppable storm.
Make them fear the blizzard.
