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Prologue

The Great Forest curled its fist in a death grip around the rugged, tarnished slopes of the Mountains. On one slope, within the grip of the forest, yet mostly open terrain, a Dragon King of bygone days had established his palace home, a fortified castle, a hatchery, and a dragon proving ground.

From this ancient stronghold the Great Dragon Nation was governed by the newest, and by far the youngest, reigning Dragon King. This king had the curious ability to alter his own appearance as he liked. Rumour had he could become invisible, too.

To many, the King appeared as a young man, fresh out of adolescence, though no one knew his exact age and no one liked to guess. Although he kept to himself, mostly, he wasseen to make good decisions, so the people didn’t complain.

Of Gifts and Grief

In a richly furnished room in the Dragon King’s Palace, a man in a red cloak was lounging on a sofa. Times were good, yet he was drumming his fingers in frustration. He was thinking on the Feud between the Dragon Nation and their long time enemies the Fairies. Regretfully, this Feud had always been expressed violently. Border disputes, riots and heated retaliation were common place. Being a warrior at heart he savoured open battle, but the bickering, and petty quarrels frayed his nerves. He wished for a permanent solution.

He finished his repose, and walked down towards the Forbidden Hall, his heels click-clicking on the grey granite floor. No one, except the guards, could enter this passage unless summoned by the King. Evidently nervous, he showed his parchment mandate to the pair of guards emblazoned with the crowned Court Dragon. They inspected the summons closely, and, after confirming it was from the King himself they, let the youth pass. Lucky me he thought, it worked.

With a swish of his cloak he rounded a bend. At the end of the passage a heavy, ironclad door was flanked on either side by a tall sentry. Both were dressed all in black, emblazed with the King’s personal sign. These guards were handpicked by the King himself. They were closest to him, knowing many of his secrets.

“My Liege.” They recognized him with an inclination of their heads.

He approached the door, behind which lay an unguarded, empty corridor, which ended in the King’s private study. Entry to this room was strictly forbidden. He joyously entered his study, ready to relax. He retired to his library, to once again study the history of the Feud. He pulled out a thick, ancient book, entitled The Histoire of the Great Dragon Nation. He leafed through to the chapter called Of Faeries and Feuds:

And the elven faeries killed many, dragons and riders alike. They could not be stopped. They would have no King, for the thought of animals, lo even dragons, being wiser than they, was detestable. Even thy mighty diamond dragons could not stop their wrath, though many gave their lives in the attempt…

He knew this battle was the reason that Diamond dragons were rare. He marvelled at the powerful beasts who gave their lives for others. They still do today… he thought. It made him realize again the magnitude of their gift to him.

It angered him to read of the vengeful fairies. How could anyone think of Dragons as common animals? he thought, disbelievingly. Even now the hate was still there. He had to fight it every day, in the courts, on the streets, let alone on the battlefields.

He stared glumly at the idle sword across his knee. It had a shapely handle, and an ancient battle-hardened blade. The crimson sheath bore a black dragon tooth. This had been a gift, too, but not from the dragons. He was itching wield it, to hack and hew.

He meditated on possibilities…