Dragons Awakening

Chapter CHAPTER THIRTEEN: The Dragon's Tale



Ezer drank the thinning air through his smoking nostrils. Icy wind buffeted the undersides of his wings. How he had missed soaring during too many centuries grounded. His equine prison offered a sense of wind when he galloped. That novelty wore off within a decade.

The slight weight of the human neither impeded nor irritated him. Again, it had been centuries since he’d carried a human on his back. Before his transformation to the lowly earth-bound form, he would have required days of groveling before allowing it. In fact, he could only recall ever permitting one other human to ride on his scaly back. The hairy back of the horse saw too much human abuse until other forms of transportation had been invented by the ingenious race. Some with aid from his own advanced knowledge.

Ezer glanced over his left shoulder. The little blue-eyed seer huddled in her blanket cocoon, only the tip of her nose visible. For someone with such on exceptional gift from Omne, this girl complained more than anyone he had ever met. She had perfected the art of pouting. In fact, she was grousing at this very moment, despising his rough scales and the boredom of flying alone.

“You are hardly alone, seer,” Ezer growled, keeping his mental exertion to a minimum. Her gift of prophecy made telepathic communication painful. He might be able to teach her how to access the link, if she wasn’t so stubborn.

“Right. Because I’m yearning for another migraine.”

Ezer rode another updraft, tilting gently toward the north. “Would conversation make the trip less tedious?”

More arguing within the young Visionary’s mind: wouldn’t she be encouraging his rude intrusions by conversing through a telepathic link? He stared toward the ground, thousands of feet below. The ability of his true eyes to see with precision even at such a height astounded him. How had he survived? Those equine eyes had rendered him practically blind.

“What would we talk about?” Her contempt came through her thoughts.

The array of emotions and reactions displayed by humans still fascinated Ezer. Even after two millennia.

“I could explain Qwystanak’s history. That might help you understand the challenge we face.”

“You mean a dragon who wants to burn up the world?”

“For starters.”

She shifted slightly, reclining on the central spine. More tumultuous thoughts of indecision slithered over their mental connection.

“Can do it so my brain doesn’t explode?”

“Relax, your mind. You’re trying to fight me.” Ezer used what he hoped was a soothing tone. Dragons didn’t have much use for such an ability.

“It’s unnatural. You inside my head.”

“I’ll be gentle.” What sort of promise was that?

In the beginning, there was only the Creator, Omne.

A race of insects infested a planet in a universe Omne hoped to populate with living creatures of his own design. They devoured every plant and animal on the surface, then turned against each other when other food sources ran out. Their reproductive rate insured they would cover the planet in less than two years.

He created us to destroy them. Originally, the deity formed only the three chieftains, Qwystanak, myself and Jokul - fire, smoke and ice.

Why did he need you? Isn’t he supposed to be a god? Maybe not an all-powerful one. Smug thoughts from the girl interrupted.

In a strange bubble, he transported us many light-years to the place in question. We descended on the planet, loosing fire, smoke and ice. By working together, we exterminated the vile creatures in a matter of days.

Any details on how you worked together?

My smoke can immobilize or kill, depending on its potency. I paralyzed the creatures, and Qwystanak crisped them with his flames. Jokul froze them and the two of us used our tails to smash the ice into tiny shards.

Centuries passed. We migrated to different areas on our planet once our preferred resources became depleted. I spotted a vast landslide of diamonds in a ravine. It was near the peak of the highest mountain on that island.

I landed and savored one such gem when Jokul came upon me. He roared. I expected to fight or flee. Puffs of icy mist emitted from his mouth and his glistening sides heaved. He was laughing at me.

“Why are you eating my waste, brother Ezerhaydn? You are a desperate one for sure.”

What an amazing discovery! The gem deposits might deplete, but as long as Jokul lived, I would have a source of food. Diamonds are especially rich in nutrients. The “waste pellet” I devoured that day could sustain me for many weeks.

To test my theory, I defecated, lower on the mountain away from Jokul’s lair. I asked him to inspect my waste, which took an inordinate amount of persuasion on my part. When he sniffed it, I asked if it was something he would eat.

“Too much metal,” he said. “It’s similar to veins of ore which run through the deeper caverns. I prefer simpler fare.”

So you all eat rocks or metal? All those stories of dragons consuming entire villages of people are make-believe.

This discovery piqued my curiosity, so I sought Qwystanak. He wasn’t nearly as cordial as Jokul about my inspection of his waste. I learned that he feasted on metal ores, though, and his waste was metamorphic rock. He spit fire as I flew away but didn’t follow.

Sounds like he has anger management issues from way back. The seer’s comment interrupted the story. So your three races are co-dependent. A smart way for your creator to encourage you to cooperate with each other.

I thought it was an incredible discovery. Of course, we could have survived for millennia without exhausting the natural deposits of our preferred food sources. If there remained only three dragons.

We fought more battles for Omne. Eventually, we faced a species of bug-like creatures that operated using a hive mind. Three dragons were insufficient to defeat this foe, so Omnisufficency created our clans. After we won that war, we returned to Dragonrealm, separating into our clans.

How did our creator expect us to live in harmony? He created our bodies with natural armor and weaponry. Such ferocity isn’t easily tamed.

Migration patterns sustained us for millennium after millennium as consumers followed the clan that produced their food source. Omne called on us to subdue other worlds and punish the rebellious. We perfected the art of soaring hidden in the clouds to dive on our opponents. Disable. Devour. Our natures became tainted with the continued violence, and Inferno displayed the most aggressive personality of all.

Dragons: the ultimate war machine. Your creator should have given you separate worlds once the in-fighting started.

Members of my clan could hibernate during a food shortage, and in stasis, our body became more metallic. One dragon failed to revive himself, and his metal carcass fed Inferno for months. Thus, when metal ores became scarce, they attacked the Crystallines.

Why not attack your clan?

If Inferno could destroy Crystalline, our food source would be diminished. We would hibernate, and they could harvest our bodies for food.

It was upon the scene of a horrific battle that Omne next came to us. The chaos made him wroth. His judgment: Inferno would cease to exist, and the clan leaders would be punished.

And he sent you to Earth. What did we do to deserve his scorn?


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