Legends of the Dragonrealm Volume 2

XXII

In the Great Tyber Mountains, the golden dragon roared. Frustrated and angry at himself, he again took out his anger upon the tattered remnants of a banner and other bits abandoned weeks ago by the few frightened little creatures who had escaped him and his kind. They had fled to the south, but he had chosen not to follow them once they departed the mountains. The Tybers, his struggling memory recalled, had been given to him. He was lord here.

So many things strained to burst forth from the fog in his mind. He knew of the sorcery that was his to control, but actually doing so was still beyond him. It was beyond all of his clan. Each day, however, the dragon king knew he grew a little closer to understanding the magic. It was the same with the wings. They had only started growing out of his back in the last few days. Pathetic little things, they would someday aid him in claiming the heavens.

Wings and magic were things he desired; many of the other bits straining to be recognized only confused him. A name, something he, as monarch of this drake clan, did not need. All knew who he was. He had killed two others to establish that claim.

Reegan. Why did it seem so familiar? What were Tezerenee? And who was the tiny two-leg that dared be where no other of his kind did? The little creature wrapped itself in a cocoon of sorts and stared at the dragon king as if they knew each other. For reasons his mind could not cope with, the dragon found himself unwilling to chase this little morsel. Since it kept a respectable distance, he let it be. It was a sign of his greatness that he allowed it to live, of course.

The dragon tore at the banner again. There was not much left of it, but he was always careful to leave something. He found he enjoyed mauling the tiny piece of cloth, though why was beyond him. Being what he was, it did not seem important.

Sharp, reptilian eyes noted the shadows that suddenly covered the ground before him. The dragon that had been Reegan looked up and, seeing the winged ones he knew to be mortal enemies, he roared his challenge. Within the vast confines of the mountains, other drakes responded to his summons. The winged ones had taken some of their brethren for slaves, and that was something he could not tolerate even though the bird folk’s days were numbered. They might hold a thin advantage now, but the more time that passed, the sooner it would be to the day when the drakes ruled all.

The avians were descending around him. They meant to take him this time, it seemed. He roared yet again, calling his people and challenging the birds at the same time. When they were close enough for his tastes, the huge dragon charged.

As with the future itself, he would not be denied his place in this land.