Prologue

Seraphi Home

The sun washes over my eyes as I wake today, a sure-fire sign that it is morning if I ever need one. I yawn, an action that would surely send even the bravest of predators running. I blink once more, then limp to the hallway and, taking a right there, reach the entrance of my home, an expansive, winding cave system that wasn't much to look at from the outside but held quite a few memories to it. I wince as the motion of moving my foreleg sends several lasting, painful jolts into my right shoulder.

I take in my surroundings, a vivid, clear green field leading into a forest, dotted here and there with shrubbery before I hear a sharp squeal of delight. A few of the younger hatchlings must be challenging each other again, gods only knew what to. I sigh in contentment; even as age has taken from me my youthful vigor, I can still reminisce on my past? thank the gods I still have the memory to… well, to remember things. My smile flickers, however, as invariably the good memories blend into those which made my sleep fitful at best.

I see a rustling in the bushes, moments before a small purple-and-green hatchling explodes out of them, followed closely by another, crimson and gold-splotched one I don't recognize, even as the colors dredge up memories? painful ones, pleasant ones, but most of all important ones? that I would much rather forget. The tiny dragons collide as I look on, the purple one having turned to face the impact. I chuckle; an impact like that would leave me aching for days, given my age. But the two bounce off each other, laughing, and I know no damage has been done.

The little purple dragon is my friend Tarinth's son, Sariant, and I am surprised to see him so far from his mother's cavern. Sariant is an energetic little thing, always bouncing off the walls if he can help it. It's a wonder he's ever found a way to sleep. But he has, and now he's sharing that same energy with his new friend. I briefly wonder how long it's been since I last saw him. Certainly far longer than I suspect he ever noticed; I don't go outside much.

“Well, nothing ventured…" I mutter to myself. I take three long, deliberate strides, then leap into the air with a practiced grace. I groan in pain, the action also stiffening the sore leg. I remember bitterly the young years that age seemed something so great yet so unattainable. I briefly try to gauge how old I am now. My once vivid teal is now slowly turning a stormy gray, and even my once ebony chest and foreleg scutes are now dulling through the passing of time. Granted, the gaping scar in my chest doesn't help my appearance, either.

So, I am old, but not as old as I will become before I finally die. The pain is just because I am injured, nothing more.

I sweep down towards the two other dragons. Immediately they notice me, and Sariant's friend flattens her ears and crests in deference. Both of them are nearing adolescence; I had not seen the young male in quite some time, and the sight surprises me. The little purple hatchling, however, shows no fear. Unbothered by the strong winds that buffet him as I alight on the ground near him, he walks straight up to me, still a hint of defiance sparking in his golden eyes. Flashes of green permeate his eyes here and there, a hypnotic effect. 

“Hey, Sera! Finally up and about again?" He says cheerily. I nod, not quite fully awake to talk with anyone yet. His tail flicks as he notices my reaction. “Just wake up?"

I nod again.

Sariant glances to his side, where the now small appearing burnished red-gold dragoness is. “This is Kyshara," he formally introduces us.

I smile as sincerely as I can to the frightened little dragoness. Then, somehow, I find my voice. “Seraphi'Temet?" I catch myself. I almost used my former title. Once a symbol of pride, now a badge of shame? and one I had nearly forgotten. I hadn't used it in centuries. Why had it resurfaced? “Seraphi." Then the conversation stalls for a moment, and I begin to wonder. How old were the two by now? It must have been a few seasons at least since I had spoken with Tarinth's son, and the second hatchling was new...

Sariant breaks into my short musing. “Hey! Can we hear a story about the rest of the world? There's not much to do around here, anyway..." Trust a hatchling's mind to slip around. It was near impossible to predict their questions, and this one threw me off guard.

“Okay," I venture warily. “What is it you wished to learn about?"

“Why are we here?" Kyshara asks me softly. I appraise her melodic tone for a moment, wary of the question, and she explains. “I mean, how did we get here?"

I turn my gaze on her, hesitating visibly for a moment. “In this valley?" I snort. “Don't be stupid. We flew here."

But Sariant shakes his head. “No, she means in this part of the world. My mother says it was humans, but she won't ever tell me what a human is." He humphs. “I only asked her a lotta times…"

“So, can we hear what happened?" He asks me.

I shudder, then sigh, memories ?both good and bad, often painful, but all bittersweet? passing through my mind. But my temptation to pass on my history, even to another's child, is too strong. I turn to the curious two. “Well, come on then."

Sariant looks up at me, confused. “Why?"

I look back at him, slightly irritated. “I am going to tell you a long, long story, and if you believe I am going to do so somewhere that is not comfortable you're sorely mistaken. The tale of our extinction begins with several battles leading to a search, and ends with our own pride failing us. Now, come." I begin to pad back up the hill, and nearly sweep Kyshara off her feet with my tail at the same moment. I glance back. “Mind the tail," I mutter, as though I had not forgotten about it. I had, but I was not about to admit that particular detail? my inactivity had apparently had more effects then I realized.

It only takes us a few minutes to scramble back up the rocks below my home, a sheer cliff. I knew it was not only paranoia, but old habits leading to the protection of my home. As if I would take any chances after all of my experiences with hostile humans.

I see a look of wonder pass across my two guests' faces as we enter through a slim opening into the cavern beyond, and though it was an unruly mess of many different trophies over the years it was still an expansive cavern. I could understand their reservation; they were perhaps some of the first to see most of my joyful memories… as well as the marks of shame I had brought along with me.

I settle on a large pile of furs, most of them treated and preserved quite well. As I lay down to get comfortable, the two look at me, confused. I snort.

“What, you expected me give you some of my bedding? Not likely." Then I turn my attention towards a fragment of small, pale, brown-speckled eggshell. I remember it, oddly enough, as a full shell, not as the fragments it had become only a short time later. I have to quell the impulse to laugh at that moment, strangely enough, though it would have been a laugh of embitterment rather than happiness.

I manage somehow to tear my eyes away, and back to my small audience, then clear my throat. It was going to be a long day if I were to tell my story; it was best to just get it over with.

“It was over four hundred fifty years ago, I suspect, that the war to survive truly began." I say. “Sure, dragons had been hunted, but this was the first time humans had approached the walls of our greatest and last city as an army, and triumphed…"