Dragons.
They are regarded as mere myths in the world, so how does
one begin to accept the fact that they are indeed alive and have existed by the
sides of humans for thousands upon thousands of years? Few people believe in
the ancient legends that tell of the remarkable beasts, but there are a few who
know that dragons are more real than anything else – and these humans co-exist
with the intelligent and powerful creatures in harmony. These chosen people
have come to be known as Riders, and each individual shares a Bond with their dragon.
This Bond is forged by a nameless energy that many could claim as magic, but
nonetheless, it is a powerful energy that has the potential for both prosperity
and destruction.
This energy – this power
– that many dragons harness has been sought after for as long as humans
have existed. In history, dragons were hunted and captured in masses by
mankind, in an attempt to gain the power. Thus one by one, the legacy of the
dragon slowly faded away.
Throughout the more recent ages, the majority of the large
creatures have avoided contact with humans in general, either hiding away in the
recluse wildernesses or skulking in the shadows the urban settlements. They were careful, they had to be careful, so that they would go unnoticed.
However, we have not
been careful enough.
Twilight encroached the last of the azure sky and left a trail
of warm colors in its wake, all while wisps of clouds danced around the gray silhouettes
of the surrounding mountains. Large amber eyes viewed the scene with detached interest
as their owner sifted through and collected his thoughts while soaking in the
last warmth of the day. His golden scales gleamed under the gentle caress of sunlight
while he lazily clung to the mountaintop.
“Elcidor, why are we here?” A faint feminine voice echoed
from above near his right horn, but the enormous dragon did not attempt to
answer. Instead he tilted his head downwards in response to the new presences
that brushed against his sensitive senses.
He waited as they
gathered slowly, one by one, until the blanket of night fell over the large
lake below. The world was painted with the silver brushstrokes of the moon and
stars, but only enough for a thin membrane of light to rest easily against the landscape. When a cool breeze
slithered across the golden dragon’s neck, and yet no more figures appeared
near the lake, he knew that it had been long enough.
Elcidor slowly released his grip from the mountaintop, wings
still folded, until he abruptly shot them out and began using the powerful
muscles of his wings to keep him airborne and fly gracefully down down down to the valley floor, and
near the shimmering lake that had manifested there over millions of years. With
practiced ease he swooped to a large clearing near the lake shore. He
observed his surroundings, and after a while he noticed many shadowy figures
approach his towering figure. At last,
when most had gathered – still keeping their distances from each other – he finally
began.
It is time.
