My Halcyon tribe has been waging war against the elves for centuries. For too long, we were at a stalemate. For too long my prideful dragons have suffered defeat, pyrrhic though the elves' victories often were. Too long— because their technology slowly overcame our inborn strength and intellect. We may have these in spades, true. But considering our temperaments, and more importantly, our instincts? We dragons are uniquely unsuited for development and discovery.
We tend to be brilliant generals and tacticians. As am I. Yet, I too was forced to watch as our shiny claws dulled against harder armors and sharper swords. As our sturdy scales chipped against enchanted maces and trebuchets.
But the worst was the magic.
We dragons. We aren't at all suited for becoming mages. For all our immense power and intellect, some few can learn inscription. None. None at all can learn magic.
It is shameful, but true.
A dragon's Mana is too wild and fierce. There are those who manage to put aside their immense pride in their powerful bodies. A pride we regularly quench in defiance of those temptations proffered by the sin of pride.
This does make it easier. But even for those few? Magecraft is impossible.
Not so for elves; a species preternaturally gifted by the gods with bodies possessing smooth and metered Mana flows. True, we dragons can cast flame breath— so what? Five thousand elven mages casting a flame blast formation puts us all to shame.
Their magic has developed quickly. Their power grows faster now than it did the day before. At first, it was just formations, then it was tag teams, and now? Now... The individual mages themselves are growing stronger.
I know they are doing something in those cities. What it is, I know not. They have cut off our intel by repeatedly stealing our hoards and attacking our allies. One by one, the dominoes fall, and I— I've seen the end.
The last domino was their development of the Dragonblood Sigil. It was poorly made, so some of us were able to escape.
But ONE ELF stood on that field. He alone declared THOUSANDS of dragons impotent. We were slain like cattle.
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We are being driven to—
"My name is Chronovoid. I am the god of fate. Luckily for all of you, I'm also a dragon. We take care of our own. That's part of what it means to be a dragon. But, starting today, what it means to be a dragon— is changing."
"Hwuaah?"
"Pride and greed aren't enough. We need to fight righteously, which means a strong drive for justice. We need to know our worth, through the worth of others, which requires erudition in our every action. We need to know we're right by the weight of the responsibilities we bear, which means respect and diligence. But! In return for so many new burdens, we dragons also need more strength and intellect. Are we strong? We are. Are we intelligent? We are! But it's not enough. Don't you dragons agree? Our power is never enough. This is the truth which undergirds every dragon's deepest desire."
"Absolutely, Chronovoid. Whomever you are. This fits my tribe perfectly. Bravo!"
"Therefore, in return for equal parts righteous and glorious behavior, from this day onward— you will be rewarded by the fate dragon himself. You will find yourself learning unhindered, growing larger, and moving more swiftly. You will feel your scales harden. Your horns become sharper. You will grind your claws against rocks, only to see those rocks shedding like sticks. You will watch magic power dance amongst those same claws with unbelievable ease. You will become more of a dragon than you ever dreamed possible. Those few who embody this ideal shall recieve an offer to join my temple. To become a god amongst dragons. Perhaps? An actual god, like me."
"It sounds incredible! But, my tribe is already on the brink. It's too little, too late."
"There are downsides. If you do not follow my path of righteous glory, you will be punished. You will suffer. Weakness, stupidity, infertility, death. Do not betray your draconic blood, for it will deny you!"
"Chronovoid. Haa. We're all going to die anyway."
"The Dragonblood Sigil is a reminder to every one of us. Do not wage undue war. Do not fight over petty spoils. Do not covet the mates of others. Do not secretly steal."
"Chronovoid! We don't! Why would you—"
"However! It is only that: a reminder. From today, you are now bound by your lineage itself. You are bound to good behavior and proper rationale by your blood— your inheritance. Therefore, from today, across ALL OF EXISTENCE, the Dragonblood Sigil will no longer bind your draconic lineage. Ever. Again."
...
...
I stand from my wood chair.
I raise my head up high.
I breathe in much air.
And I exhale, loudly.
###ROOOOOOOOAAAAARRRRRRR###
My tribe's dragons follow along.
#ROOOOOAR#
##ROOOOOOOOOARRR##
#ROOOAR#
##RROOOOOOARRR##
"RAAAR!"
image [https://timjames.net/data/acd/images/159.png]
I look lovingly at my young hatchling who's trying to copy her brothers, sisters, and myself. I walk to her, pick her up, and embrace her scaly body.
*chr-r-r-rt*
"Rawara! Ra! Rah!"
Chronovoid.
"Rawaarar! Wraa!"
Thank you.