A bridge over a beautiful waterfall

A bridge over a beautiful waterfall
Nature brings magic

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Sunday Sample - Birth of the Dragon Lord

This is just a little bit of a medium length story I started but haven't finished yet regarding the birth, life, and death of the last of the old Dragon Lords.

When he was born, he was given no name.  His mother was told to kill him.  Geir wanted no competition for the sons from his previous mate.  Kajsa could not bring herself to kill her own child.  She carried him to a place where she knew other Terathen were known to congregate, hoping another woman would take him in.  If not, it would be up to the gods to either preserve him or take him back until a woman could be found to bear him again.
Varrdra was agitated.  Her mate had abandoned her and their eggs and now she was forced to leave them unprotected to hunt.  She heard a strange noise, one unfamiliar in these hunting grounds.  She looked around and found herself nose to nose with an infant who still smelled of the birthing blood.  Varrdra hissed angrily.  What mother would abandon a normal child such as this one to the mercy of the gods?
Varrdra shifted to Terathen form.  She lifted the infant into her arms.  The young orange dragon spun magic to create a waterskin full of milk for him.  She would have to do something else soon because the magically created stuff was not as good for him as real milk would be.  But she needed something to calm the raging hunger and quiet him down.
She returned to her cave to find another dragon waiting for her.  Her hackles went up.  She set the child down.  “Peace, Varrdra.  I saw you leave and knew you wouldn’t want anything to happen to your eggs,” Erilis, Varrdra’s nesting sister, said.  “But why are you in that form?”
“Someone left a child to die in the elements, an infant not even cleaned of the birthing blood,” Varrdra said.  “I can see nothing wrong with the infant, so someone cast him away for a petty reason and I won’t see him die for want of a loving mother.”
“How will you tend to him and your eggs?  You don’t have a mate to hunt for you and you can’t remain in Terathen form if you wish to protect your eggs,” Erilis said.
“She doesn’t have to.”  Arden, one of the last of the storm dragons, glided in for a landing near the cave.  He lowered his head submissively to the two females as a way of showing he meant no harm.  “I too heard the infant cry and followed to see where you would take him.  I can hunt for you, if you will tend to the infant, and I will help provide food for the hatchlings when they break free of their shells.”
“Why would you do this?” Erilis asked as Varrdra hissed a little at the strange male.
“My kind are dying out,” Arden said.  “There are too few of us, and so many of our hatchlings die because of the other chromatic dragons that we cannot breed fast enough to keep ourselves alive.”
“So why are you offering to help me?” Varrdra said.  “I’m a chromatic dragon.”
“You are an outcast because of your mate,” Arden said.  “It is well known among us who choose to nest so far from the central range.”
Varrdra ducked her head as she placed the sleeping infant in a hollow quickly lined with some fabric from her hoard.  It was true she’d chosen to mate with a green dragon.  But he’d abandoned her when she wouldn’t let him devour the eggs.  He said he’d rather the eggs were destroyed than see half-breed dragons born. 
Varrdra was also not the only chromatic dragon to settle out of the central range.  There were others who’d chosen mates from the different colors or, in the case of three dragons she knew of, completely different species of dragons.  There were two who were mated to storm dragons, and one who had actually gone to the Dragon Isles and returned with a young gemstone dragon in tow as his mate.
Once the infant was settled into place, Varrdra resumed her natural form.  The light gleamed off of her orange scales as she turned to Arden.  “You will provide food for me and my hatchlings, and you will help me find food for the little one?” she asked.
“I will,” Arden said.  He gave her a typical draconic grin.  “I am something of an outcast myself, since I seem to be lacking in the natural defenses of my kind.”
“You don’t have the storm guard?” Erilis asked.
“No storm guard, and my lightning is weak,” Arden said.  “I am pure storm dragon which confuses many and makes them wonder if it is not the will of the gods that we are dying out.”
Varrdra snorted.  “More likely too much breeding with nest siblings and not enough breeding with others,” she said.  “New blood keeps the bloodlines strong.”

No comments:

Post a Comment