• Erthrisan Chronicles:

    Adventures in Erthrisa

    Chapter 4:
    The Mysteries of Nature and Tiamat’s Dream


    It was many weeks since Fenrier had seen the death of the Old Tree, and he had been quite shaken by it. He had never even thought about the concept of a dream being real, and yet down in the forest stood the decaying remains of that giant spirit of the woods. Though it was dead, however, it was not removed and burned, as would have been a good way to help the tree make it into rebirth as another tree so that it would rejoin its kin of the forest. Instead it was left there, so that all could remember the glory of the Old Tree. Its seeds, though attached to a dead host, still had life, and had chance to take root. Fenrier’s parents had decided that if the seeds took root in the ground beneath, then they would allow the forest to regain some of the Old Tree’s knowledge and wisdom and ability to make the forest flourish ever more.
    Fenrier was still young, but the past events of recent weeks had changed his normally fun and carefree nature to that of a quiet and thoughtful dragon, always thinking on life, death and killing. He learned earlier than most dragons the truth behind right and wrong, and he would many times decline to play, for he was always off flying, thinking and thinking. Today was no exception.
    He glided over the forest roof, his claws skimming the surface leaves, and he passed over the clearing where he had fallen prey to the shadow creatures’ tricks and nearly lost his life. He had flown by this spot many times. Today, however, he felt the urge to land and look around. He folded his wings, which at this elevation was quite the risk for crashing, especially for a hatchling. He landed pretty smooth however, but stumbled as his feet touched the ground and tripped over his paws, sliding along the ground and staining his scales on his chin. He got back up and shook out his front paws and shook his head. It hadn’t hurt, but now he would need to go to the lake later and wash up.
    He looked around the clearing. There was no beam of light, as there had been before. The clearing was small in size, not the many leagues of forest he had seen all that time ago. And there was no sign of his earlier struggle in the grass. It was as though nothing had happened here. He idly sniffed about, letting the smell of the short grass permeate his scent glands. His body suddenly went rigid when he caught an unfamiliar scent in a section of grass. He raised his head and stared at the turf. It wasn’t a bad smell; it was simply strange, very out of place among the grass and the trees and crisp morning air.
    He lowered his head once more to the small section of grass, and sniffed once more, then quickly stopped and his eyes widened. The scent was gone! He sniffed around and found it again, but it seemed to be moving. As he realized this, he stopped and raised his head suspiciously.
    He was no fool; not anymore at least. He knew that the forest played tricks on those who entered its leafy vastness. He barely had time to ponder how the enchantment still went when the overhead sky disappeared before a flurry of leaves and branches. Fenrier didn’t flinch. He knew it was a trick, and that if he concentrated hard enough, the foliage would vanish. He stared at the roof with intensified energy, but the illusion would not dissipate. Frustrated, he gathered what energy he had and let fly a stream of flames, which surprised him. He had not done it out of will, and he had not even known of his ability. It must have been instinct that had brought it out. But he had no time to think on it, for he found that when the flames reached the roof, it didn’t go through like he expected, but blasted against thick bark and branch, which didn’t even char from the intense heat.
    Fenrier ran out of breath and sat panting worriedly. How was this happening? There was no power left in this old forest, now that the tree spirit was dead. As he pondered this, he heard a sound not unlike creaking roots of a large tree. He turned quickly enough to see the last root of a tree replant itself into the ground before becoming still and revealing the path that it had created by moving. Fenrier was still no fool; he had seen what happened to the last set of creatures that had gone beyond the clearing. But something told him to move forward.
    Slowly, warily, he proceeded beyond the tree. As his tail passed the tree, he heard the sound again, and turning back, he actually saw the tree was lifting itself from the ground to close the way. Fenrier almost jumped back through the gap, but again something held him back, and the hesitation cost him his escape route. Alert, he turned back to the path that stretched out before him. It was covered in brambles and thickets, but a discernable path was visible among the greenery, and summing himself up, Fenrier pushed forward into the darkness of the forest.
    The clearing was soon out of sight as he flattened out the surrounding bush and weed on the path. He was quickly aware of how large he had grown in the past few weeks, as the trees seemed to press in on him a lot more than they used to. Either that or it was another forest trick. Nevertheless he pressed on, deep into the branches and brambles. He did not know how long he wandered down the lonely path, for the sky was not in view and his night eye was fading, he quickly had to rely on scent to guide him.
    Soon, sight was impossible, and he resignedly lowered his muzzle to the ground and sniffed the dirt on the path to make sure he could follow it. As he kept his pace, he stopped abruptly as he encountered the strange scent again, and this time he could tell it was moving, for if he stopped moving, the scent would seem to proceed down the path. He kept steady pace with the scent, always glancing upwards to make sure he knew where he was going, but it was a pointless effort; he could no sooner distinguish a leaf on the ground from a root right next to it.
    The scent increased its movement, and he soon began to trot to keep up with it. He was not sure why he was so hard pressed to keep with the smell, but he ran himself ragged keeping it within reach. Then, all at once, it dissipated, and Fenrier was not quick enough to stop himself from imitating his sister’s move from earlier.
    His head collided with a tree, though it was still young enough and him big enough that it fell over with a ripping sound in the air as the roots disconnected from the sustenance of the forest floor. He put both his paws on his head and rubbed vigorously at the sore spot. He opened his eyes and found that he could see, and quite well. He found himself, not in another clearing, but a strange cave that was illuminated by two torches on stick perches.
    At first glance, he had thought it was a cave, for it was made of rock and had an open way into it. But as he took a closer look, he found that it had been furnished in little bits of this and that, as though it had been someone’s home at one time. He sniffed at the vines and found that the same smell saturated this place. Now that he was surrounded by the smell, he could tell that it was not organic. He peered into the dark beginning of the cave, wondering if he should look inside. A powerful gust of wind whipped through the area, despite the thick trees surrounding. It unfolded Fenrier’s wings and they flapped about, resisting all of his attempts to pull them back. Desperate to escape the wind’s fury, he rushed into the cave, after which, the wind instantly stopped. All was calm again, and Fenrier made to go back out, but the wind began to howl again, daring him to try to leave.
    Fenrier snarled, but turned his back on the mouth of the cave, and prepared to go down the dark cavern, only to find it brightly lit by many torches. Now that he could see the dimensions clearly, he found that the cave was very large indeed, much bigger than he, though small enough to not be seen from above. If he had to range it, he would have to say that it was about the size of his father, if not slightly larger, to accommodate room.
    He slowly proceeded into the brightly lit hall, for that is how it would be defined by a king. The sides were incredibly smooth, and they seemed to shine as though polished. Eventually he saw that the hall ended in a large chamber, with many differences to the outside of the cave. Inside was a circular pile of leaves and branches in a corner of the room, big enough for several Fenriers. It was thick, too, and he was sure that if he lay on it he would be quite comfortable. He looked about and saw large scales lying on the ground, pure white and brilliantly lit by the torches in the hall. They were all swept into a pile in another corner of the room.
    He looked to the left of the hall and saw a hole in the wall. He approached it and found that it led out of the cave, for the sky was bright orange outside, indicating late afternoon. He felt the urge to fly up the chute to the open air, but again, he was compelled to remain in this hidden sanctuary.
    Near that there was a hole in the wall that didn’t seem to have any particular reason for being there, nor any known function. He sniffed inside of it, and it smelled slightly of sulfur and smoke. Curious he stuck his head in and looked up. Nothing but solid stone. He looked to the sides but nothing existed there either. This spot had no visible reason at all, except to maybe make this place smelly.
    He sniffed around for a while, his attention waning. He wanted to leave to do something else, but it was as though some unseen force were holding him back. He waited for a long while, until the next time he looked up the chute; the sky was black, and tiny pinpoints of lights filled the sky. A draft came down the tunnel hall, and a chill swept him. The temperature down here was incredibly low, and he couldn’t imagine what creature could live down here comfortably. He shivered.
    There was a loud boom, and the hole in the wall exploded in a shower of sparks as a fire came into life in the hole. Right after this phenomenon, he could instantly feel tremendous heat emitting from the flames, heating the entire lair to a very cozy level. He looked amazedly at the flames that crackled without fuel. He got closer and could feel the extreme heat of it on the soft area of his muzzle, and his scales seemed to grow redder with the intensity.
    He had only a few moments to puzzle it, when he heard a loud thump behind him, in the direction of the chute. Before he could do anything else, a loud voice in his mind made him growl in alarm and his wings flared as he turned around hissing at the newcomer. When he saw who it was, he instantly folded his wings and crouched low to the ground, for standing above him was a gigantic (to him) dragon, bright white with silver eyes. His alarm had blocked out the voice the first time, so it asked again.
    “What are you doing here, little hatchling?” It had a melodic voice, and he could feel that it was female. Fenrier didn’t answer. The dragoness chuckled deep in her throat, and gazed at him with those great round eyes, that seemed to speak of over a thousand years of knowledge.
    “Fear not little one, I wont hurt you. What point would our existence be if we fought and killed each other for mere intrusions? You did not know where you came, and you were not here to take my home from me, so I have nothing against you in the least bit. However, I would like to know how you came upon my lair.” She gazed intently at him.
    Fenrier did not answer at once, for all his instincts told him that when a larger dragon stood before him, he was to remain still or fight. Eventually he overcame his instincts, and said, “Th-The forest lured me here.”
    She continued to look at him with a penetrating stare. After a moment, she nodded and replied, “You do not lie. The forest has lured more than hatchlings to my lair. Trust me when I say you are not the first to stumble upon this place.”
    Fenrier nodded slowly, instincts still telling him to at least keep his eyes on the dragoness, even though she showed no hostility. He nearly jumped out of his scales when he heard the tiny pop from the fire. He glared at it, and following his gaze, the dragoness smiled, teeth long and sharp like a sword.
    “That right there took a lot of concentration and magic to accomplish,” she said. She looked at it thoughtfully, “It can tell when the temperature down here is not suitable and bursts into life, making this place warm and comfy.”
    Curiosity now took hold of Fenrier as he looked at the fire. What in Yasta had that sort of property? He knew he could light a fire, but he had to be there, and there had to be fuel to light. Yet this flame roared with no fuel, nor any visible means of how it started in the first place. He looked back at the dragoness and asked, “How did you do that?”
    She turned her attention to him, and studied him for a moment, then slowly replied, “It is something we have dubbed magic. It is what allows us to live our long lives, and what allows our inner flames to come from our maws without harming us. However…” she looked at him intently, “It is not hereditary. We do not have it naturally, though if enough generations that do have it reproduce, the effects can sometimes be passed on, creating stronger effects. For those that don’t start with it, they obtain it through a process called Star Sacrifice. In this rite, we give our energy to the stars for one year. After a year, it is given back doubled, so that the dragon becomes stronger than before. Though if you do the Star Sacrifice, never ever attempt this on the first return of power. It will kill you. What you see here is from many centuries of sacrifices. I have become attuned enough to where I can actually focus that energy to use it outside the natural abilities it grants us.” She looked at him, then chuckled slightly as she saw his mouth agape eyes fixed intensely upon her. She asked, “Have you been introduced to the Star Sacrifice yet?”
    Fenrier shook himself out of his stupor and said quickly, “No. I never knew about it until now,” he looked down thoughtfully, then quickly looked back up, asking, “Then how was I able to use the fire in the forest earlier? It came out and it didn’t hurt. I didn’t realize how to do it, though, it just happened.”
    She stared into space, thinking. One of her eyes flicked to him and she asked, “Why did you need to use it?”
    “Well the trees had trapped me from getting back into the sky. Then something deep down said to just breathe deep and out came the flames. Nothing happened though, the branches didn’t burn.”
    “Well, the trees, as well as the entire forest, have existed for so long that they have grown to become resistant and powerful to its natural enemy. However that’s not what I am interested in. It is the fact that, out of instinct, instinct, you were able to use the flames deep inside of you. I’ve never lived to see something like that, except for a few times. You have a talent for flames, no doubt inherited surely, but you also have a knack for fire breathing, a boastful skill indeed.”
    Fenrier felt a great welling of pride at hearing this, but was almost instantly contradicted by the dragoness.
    “Don’t let it go to your head though! It is one ability, and as wonderful and advantageous for you that is, it is only one ability. Do not think that because of it, you are an ultimate flyer or powerful or proficient in magic. Remember that, for what a waste if you died because of arrogance. But we have talked too much of bad things, and I am sure that you are a wise little dragon. You aren’t foolish, at least, not too much.”
    Fenrier stood watching her, drinking in her words, with the proper feelings at the right moments. Then he asked, “So dragons get stronger when they do the Star Sacrifice?”
    She looked at him warily. “Yes, but don’t let that devour you. It can only be done once every one hundred years, and if you strive for power then you will be consumed and fall. And,” she added pointedly, “…it is not just dragons that can do this. Any creature that attempts this can gain the power of the stars, even humans and Katsine, though they fear that some outlandish ritual and the sacrifice of their first born are necessary.” She chuckled, then looked back at Fenrier with amusement, “That is the folly of most creatures that don’t try things first, or at least learn about it. We feared it at one time too, but eventually, one of our kin tried it and we still feared it, for after doing the necessary giving of energy, he fell weak for a whole year. We thought he was a fool and that he had killed himself, but after one year, he became powerful and stronger than any dragon, and when this was common knowledge, so was the Star Sacrifice. It gave us many benefits and from that day forward we have always committed ourselves to the stars, so that we may become ever stronger and find little need to fight amongst each other and defend each other as a whole. You always get a bad egg, though, even if you are a peaceful species. Of course there was the one who thought it would be wise if we split our community in search of a more prosperous place. It was a ludicrous idea at the time, but we came here to Yasta anyways. It is here that I came into existence not long after our arrival.” She turned to him and saw with pure amusement that the little hatchling was struggling against all odds to stay awake and listen to her tale. He was willing but his body and mind were tired. She chuckled and nuzzled him. “I have kept you long little one. I think it is about time that you went ho…hom…”
    Fenrier tilted his head and looked at her curiously. For some reason she was having trouble finishing her sentence. He let out a terrified roar as he scrambled to remove himself from the falling dragoness. She too roared in pain, a roar so loud and tortured that the very air stopped, and her eyes exploded with light as she hit the ground with an earth shuttering whumph. She flailed about, smashing things this way and that, cracking the rock wall and crushing her nest to scattered pieces around her lair. The flame in the hole grew to enormous proportions, causing the solid rock around it to melt. Fenrier scrambled about in fear and terror, trying to escape the death trap. Eventually he made his way into a secluded corner of the lair.
    It was an entire hour that he lay there, watching her roar, her eyes like suns, her tail smashing rocks to powder. After an hour had passed, the fire in the hole suddenly began to wane, and her eyes lost their glow.
    Fenrier stared at her crumpled mass on the floor, afraid to even blink. After a while he picked himself up and, ever so cautiously, approached the downed dragon. Once he had come within twenty feet of her, he found that her chest was still expanding and shrinking. She was alive, that much he could tell. He got closer and sniffed one of her paws. Small globules of blood came from her paws where she had finally managed to scrape away the protection that had kept safe the muscle and tissue underneath. He squeaked in sadness, almost not able to bear the sight of her in so much pain. He continued to her muzzle, and pawed it gently. Her eyes were slightly open, though out of focus, and her breathing was ragged. Fenrier knew she must have torn her voice to shreds with all the roaring she did. He squeaked softly and nuzzled her. She didn’t move. He tried again, and he saw her pupils begin to adjust to the lighting in the cave. Her eyes opened a little wider, and the eyes that had been filled with wisdom and kindness, were now filled with fear and confusion.
    She looked at him as though seeing him for the first time, which, with what had happened, wouldn’t have surprised him much. She raised her head slightly and hissed at the pain in her muscles. She looked around in dismay at her ruined home. A choking sound came from her throat, as though she were on the verge of tears. She looked back at him.
    “Wh-what happened, little one?”
    Fenrier was so intimidated that it may happen again that he couldn’t respond, though it was more from his own despair at her pain than anything that held his voice. She laid her head back down, and closed her eyes, regulating her breathing. Eventually, Fenrier managed to find his courage to speak again.
    “You…were about to send me home…and you fell and started roaring and growling and destroying things. I was scared, I hid in the corner. When it was all over I thought you were dead…”
    She stared at him sadly. “So it was that bad?” she sighed softly, “I am so sorry that you had to bear witness to that. It was not meant for you to see, but it came so suddenly that I couldn’t make my way outside.” She looked at her home again, and said, “I can always remake this place, but I can’t remove what you have seen, and I ask your forgiveness for my weakness.”
    Fenrier was so muddled and confused by the situation he could only say, “It’s not your fault.”
    She chuckled weakly and said softly, “You are a sweet dragon. I thank you for your kindness,” She made to stand up, but Fenrier ran closer to her face, and said, “No! Don’t stand up! Your paws…”
    She raised her head and one of her paws, hissing again with the strain, and looked at the now bloody pad that had been her paw. She cringed at the sight of it.
    “It was worse than I thought. Once more I am sorry to have exposed you to that. I will be fine. However, you need to return home. I know from experience that a siress gets worried when her hatchlings are not back after a while, even when they are a little older. I can fix my paws up. Do not worry about me. Go home now, and sleep soundly, do not let this event corrupt your dreams.” He didn’t move, so she nudged him gently. “Go on now. I will be fine. I will invite you here tomorrow and we can talk again. I promise.”
    She nudged him towards the shaft with one of her paws, careful not to use the scraped areas. He walked slowly towards the chute, then turned his head to look at her one more time. She nodded and he unfolded his wings and, with a few good flaps, he flew from the hole and veered towards the mountains. She watched him for a while, before suddenly calling out, “My name is Rasinji.”
    He circled back and looked at her, then replied, “My name is Fenrier.”
    She stared at him. She looked down at the ground and said, “Fenrier…I will remember you. Good night.”
    She got up and walked out of sight, leaving bloody prints of white blood on the blackened surface, cringing with every step but going smoother each time. He took one last look, then circled back around and headed home.

    * * *

    Fenrier took her up on her offer the next day, and he was pleased to find her in perfect health again, and the cave, though the walls were still cracked and broken. They somehow seemed to be repairing themselves though, for the cracks were not as serious as they were before, and even some of the broken pieces had replaced themselves. She greeted him warmly and invited him in.
    They spoke for a long time, talking about this and that, though Fenrier mostly listened. So was the pattern for the next week. He would go there in the morning and greet her or wait for her to return from hunting. They would talk for long periods of time, about nothing important, just to talk. Then he would return home in the late afternoon. He had just been returning from one of his sessions with her, when his siress greeted him.
    “Hello Fenrier. I was just looking for you,” She looked at him intently, “I just wanted to ask you where you’ve been going for all this time. You disappear in the early morn, then return late in the afternoon. Where do you go that has you pulled everyday?”
    “I go and talk to my friend Rasinji,” he told her, “She and I are good friends, and she tells me things and I tell her things but mostly she tells me things.”
    She chuckled and asked, “Do you know who Rasinji is, little-“ She looked at him critically, taking in the fact that he was now nearly up to her back if he stood. She then said, “Actually I don’t think it proper to call you little anymore; you are far from it. I will just refer to you as Fenrier, but I’m straying.” She straightened up and asked again, “Do you know who Rasinji is, Fenrier?”
    He thought this was an odd question. “Ummm…she’s my friend?”
    She giggled at his confusion, which only added to it, and said, “She is an Elder, Fenrier.”
    His head tilted again. “What’s that?”
    “An Elder is one we dragons look to for knowledge and hope and happiness. She teaches us, and she tells us stories of hope, and she makes us laugh. And she is also the oldest of the Elders. You made a wise choice in friends, Fenrier. You couldn’t have asked for a better dragon to be a companion. She will teach you so much about our history and tell you everything you need to know about while in this life. She holds a gathering sometimes to spread her knowledge, for she always says, “Knowledge and history cannot exist without a host. Like a virus, it needs someone to impress itself upon to make itself known, and so it can spread. Even I go to her gatherings, for she has so much to teach us.”
    Fenrier looked thoughtful and amazed at the same time (quite a feat) and said, “I never knew…” though it was only obvious now. Everything she told him, about Yasta and dragons and Erthrisa in general, it all made sense now that only one that was extremely old and knowledgeable could know that.
    “That’s incredible…I’m friends with one of the oldest dragons in Erthrisa!”
    She lowered her head to his eye level and said, “Yes and it would be best that you held her close, for she is one to be revered, and her being your friend can only mean good things for you in the future.” She looked away for a moment as though deciding something, then she turned back to him and said, “A little off subject but, I have decided that you are old enough to hunt for yourself. Four months seems like a good time for you to get your own food.”
    It was Fenrier’s turn to chuckle now, and when she looked at him inquisitively, he said, “I have a confession. I have been hunting, along with Tiamat, ever since you told us we couldn’t. We know well how and we are still alive so there is no need to worry.”
    She exposed a look of surprise, then grinned proudly. “I am not angry with you. I am proud of you. You and your sister are strong and independent. I am glad that you hunted anyways; it just means that you will be ready when you are all alone in the world. In one year, most hatchlings leave their parents and start their own life, but you seem like you could leave sooner, for you are very strong on your own. I would not fear for your safety.”
    He glowed with pride as she said this, and could not hide the glee that he felt. Out of pure playfulness, he asked, “May I go and hunt?”
    She smiled, and nodded. “Bring back something for your sister’s morning meal, she is sleeping now.”
    Fenrier nodded happily and said, “I won’t let her down!”
    He flew back out the entrance of the cave and dived in the most impressive way he could towards the forests. He knew where the best hunting grounds were, for he would practice his stalking everyday there from time to time. It was rich with venison and many other delectable creatures, and Fenrier could recall many a time as a nearly new hatchling, stalking little rabbits coming to and from their holes.
    He spotted the clearing from a long distance, for he knew that all the creatures there were always on the alert for predators, and he kept at a high altitude until he was nearly right above the bright green patch, which was now a brilliant golden yellow-green. As quickly as he always had, he folded his wings and let gravity pull him fast towards the ground.
    He calculated the closing distance and, at about 500 feet, flared his wings and circled the rest of the way so as to keep from crashing.
    400 feet.
    300 feet.
    150 feet.
    50 feet.
    He landed quietly on the grass nearest to a cove of tall grass and hid there quickly, searching for possible prey. His eyes darted to a speck of movement to his left, and he saw a small baby buck. It was wandering from its mother and nibbling at the grass. As he watched, another, leaner buck appeared. This could only be the baby’s father, for its horns were large and had many points. Fenrier was wary of him, for though he far outstripped him in size, the horns could cause some considerable damage to his eyes and nostrils. He was wondering if he should even try to take the baby at all, when the movement of a tree somewhere far off scared some birds. The flapped from the trees in a flurry of feathers, and the buck bounded away, while the baby stood stock still.
    Ten minutes passed, and the baby resumed its nibbling of the grass, ears flicking occasionally. The buck still had not come back for its offspring. Luck was on Fenrier’s side, and he dared not deny its gift. Slowly, he crouched low, and, at the slight flick of the tail from the baby, Fenrier pounced and jumped on top of the baby, biting its neck and severing the spine. It fell over, limp, and he murred with triumph. He picked it up in his maw and the head came off. Annoyed, he decided to just make a quick meal of it, when a snapping twig made him c**k his head to look behind him.
    Standing there behind him was another baby deer, a doe this time. He couldn’t believe his luck today, and he thought what an easy kill it would make, and then both he and Tiamat would have something to eat in the morning of their own. He turned his back on the fallen baby to give his attention to the one before him. He prepared to pounce, when another twig snap made him look behind his prey.
    There stood an enormous buck, with what had to have been fourteen point horns. Fenrier froze immediately and watched the buck, which seemed to glare back at him with a look as though to ask, “Do you dare?” They didn’t move. Then the buck snorted and Fenrier decided he didn’t want to dare. He slowly turned and grabbed the severed head in his mouth and grabbed the rest of the body in his claws. He unfolded his wings and, with a few more flaps than normal, lifted off with his load and flew back towards the mountains. The buck watched him silently, then turned to the little baby and nudged it back to the protection of the trees.

    * * *

    He landed at the mouth and found that his mother was not there, though his father slept next to Tiamat, who was lying on her back, wings spread lazily and tongue hanging past her sharp teeth, and her back paw twitching.
    He dragged his kill to a side of the cave and quickly ate the head in his mouth, the bones crunching noisily. Swallowing, he headed towards Tiamat to lie down for his own time of rest. He nuzzled her slightly then curled up next to her, bumping her slightly so that she fell on her side and lay peacefully unaware. He chuckled and circled a bit, and laid himself down, lowering his head and closing his eyes. He fell asleep quickly, and his dreams were untroubled throughout the night.

    Men and women scurry about, tending to their assigned tasks, and the day is halfway into the afternoon. Men and boys train with swords, though they never used them before in their lives. Women fire bows and tend to food and the make shift shelters. The only way to complete this odd scene was the fact that all of this human activity in the valley was being observed by some of the most unlikely creatures; Dragons.
    Some of the dragons watched the humans with amusement as they tried to swing swords and fell over. Some looked at them with distrust, for was it not humans that were causing conflict with them? And some of them looked to them with hope for the future, a future where all the creatures of Erthrisa could be at peace and live together in harmony. The dragons also had chores to do as well, and most of them had little time to watch the humans.
    They flew about tending to their duties, when a man is seen running through the camp towards a high ledge, where a purple dragon is perched. After a few moments, the man runs towards one of the dragons and relays some unknown message. A look of horror crosses the man’ face as another human runs to him out of breath telling him something important. Just as this is told, they both observe the purple dragon landing somewhere in the camp. The second man ushers the first on to go speak with the purple dragon.
    The man arrives out of breath, and relays his message, promptly passing out. The purple dragon roars and starts yelling commands in her mind to the other dragons. They fly off. Whatever the message was, it was causing a buzz in the camp, for all the humans and dragons were quickly preparing for what seemed to be a battle. After half an hour, the valley is like a fort, and they listen to the purple dragon’s speech. It turns and roars at the opposing army that has made its way into the valley. The dragons launch themselves from their perches and begin dive bombing the opposing army as the humans run into battle themselves. Blood spills all over these grounds, and the valley humans begin to lose ground. From out of nowhere, a strangely familiar red dragon flies into the fray with several others, helping the human line.
    The purple dragon swoops in on an enemy soldier, which turns out to be the general. He screams before he is picked up in her maw and she flies back to the air and begins to chew on his body. Her mouth glowed and flames poured over the body. She dropped it into the heat of the battle where all could see. The battle in the area stops for a moment, then the opposing army begins to flee as the purple dragon settles itself behind friendly humans and roars extravagantly. The humans begin to cheer at the victory. However, the red dragon continues to fight with a strange device made of wood and steel and rope.
    It had a strange looking tree branch perched on it, with a very pointy tip. The red dragon folded its wings and began to dive at the device. A shout rings out, and one of the humans next to the device brings down an axe on one of the ropes. The tree branch torpedoes through the air, and the red dragon, whom did not seem to have seen the strange branch, doubled up in pain as the branch went through his chest into his heart. His wings stopped working and gravity pulled him at an alarming speed towards the ground. A thought goes through the head of the dragon, and a voice projects to itself, “Just flare your wings and you can pull out of just about any dive…” The dragon’s wings remain folded, and, as if in slow motion, the dragon’s head collides with the ground, and the speed of gravity and the weight of his body shatter the bones in his neck as it folds underneath his body. A horrified voice rings out, crying a name that was indiscernible. Another voice, even louder than the first burst in afterwards..
    “Ow! Tiamat! Wake up!”
    Tiamat’s eyes jerked open at her brother’s voice, and she realized that she was clawing her brother’s belly and legs. She immediately stopped and got up and looked around. It was not yet morning, but their mother and father were gone hunting already. She looked to her brother, who was sitting against the cave wall, rubbing his belly with his front paws, and she could see the fine lines where her claws had scratched his scales. She gave him a confused look, which he returned in kind, asking, “What was that all about?”
    She gave a troubled look, then said, “I had a nightmare.”
    Fenrier stopped rubbing his belly and peered interestedly at her. “A nightmare? What was it about?” He gained a slightly bitter tone as he added, “What could possibly cause you to try to gut me?”
    “I didn’t mean to,” she retorted, but then lost her defensive stand as she recounted her dream to him. After she finished, she said, “The red dragon seemed familiar,” a look of pure concentration crossed her face, then she looked at her brother and her expression brightened.
    “He looked just like you!” she said, then her face fell. “Though that would mean…”
    Fenrier shook his head and nuzzled his sister. “Don’t worry. It’s just a dream. No matter how much he looked like me, he is not me. Always remember that; your brother won’t leave you that easily.” He winked at her, and she chuckled. “Thanks brother, ill be there for you, too”
    He nuzzled her again, and said, “I am glad I was hatched with a sister like you.”
    She nuzzled him back. “Me too, Fenrier…me too.”
    They walked to the mouth of the cave to face the new day together, an inseparable pair, who would belittle the challenges of the world and overcome all odds. But that tale, is for another time…