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A land spanned across the heavens, below the galaxies, a sky tinted with red and orange. Plains formed from the constant change of the stars. The sun, a dark hue of violet and bright red gave light to the land bare of nature. In place of green grass and fields, water and moss existed.
Roars and stomping filled the heavenly space. Waves of air created from enormous wings created ripples on the water surfaces. There were clashes of horns in playful guile and the little cries of young beasts covered in scales. From the pinnacle, a building spanning over four-hundred thousand square-feet and one thousand feet in the air, known as the Grandhouse, Lymas’ beady eyes followed the daily activities of Lycadon; the Draco Haven.
Over two hundred feet of pure muscles and deathly scales, serpent like eyes covered in a veil of dark mucus, Lymas has served as the Grand Master for a millennium and now, the stars have aligned signifying the shift in power. He must step down for another to carry the cross of responsibility. Who would it be?
Lymas huffed; smoke pouring from his nostrils as he observed keenly the hatchlings to the grown beasts. He has lived nine thousand years and will continue living until his time comes to join his ancestors as a star. Another dragon appears, wings flapping, landing in a flourish on the steel like ground of the temple.
“Another day in Lycadon. You seem worried.”
Unlike Lymas, Piergon was a dragon with prickly yet highly defined scales that glowed under the sun. It was almost like looking at an amethyst stone. He was one hundred and sixty feet with a tail that coiled in the end with spikes over it. His neck was long, like that of a Brachiosaurus, with thin black stripes.
“The stars shall pick the next Grand Master in a week and I see no signs of the chosen. There should be something by now.”
“Your habit of worrying never ceases to amaze me. Let the stars do their thing. You do yours.”
Lymas huffed, his eyes slowly appraising his friend, “I guess I have run out of better things to do.”
“Seems like it but when you step down, you will have a lot of free time on your hands. Figure something out my friend. Don’t be idle.” Piergon said and walked his body through the entrance on the roof into the temple, leaving Lymas deep in thought.
Tiny growls sounded beside the river as hatchlings played and ducked into the water. All young dragons covered in smooth-like scales each bearing distinctive features from their eyes to their tails. One amidst them had a singular horn. His demeanor was demure as he watched his fellow ones play. Round eyes with human-like irises that earned him concerned looks from his fellow species.
Isolated, he sat by a cave away from the laughter and playfulness of the others. He watched with longing as they carried on for hours until their parents came for them. It had grown dark, the moon in full bloom in the star covered sky. He walked hesitantly to the river, stared at his reflection and looked away.
“Firis.”
The hatchling turned at the call of his name and his eyes brightened when he saw the Grand Master. The only Dragon who is not put away by his appearance.
“Lymas!” He jumped and raced excitedly to meet him, “You didn’t fly?”
“No. I thought I’d walk. You are a tiny little thing. Remember what happened last time?”
Firis laughed at the memory of being swept away by the tornado Lymas’ wings caused, “I’ll grow. You wait and see. Are we going home now?”
Lymas looked fondly at the little beast with the strangest appearance in all of Lycadon. No one knows how he came to be, but Lymas found him when he had freshly hatched a century ago. His eyes were the most fascinating he’d ever seen and when no one came to claim him as lost, he took him in and into the temple.
“Did you make any friends?”
Firis eyes dimmed at the question but maintained his smile, “Not yet. But tomorrow. I’m sure it will change tomorrow.”
Lymas saw through the façade but laughed with a nod, “Yes. Come tomorrow you will make one. You have more than just years. You have a lifetime.”
Firis nodded vigorously and went on to let himself be picked by Lymas, sitting latched and fastened to his paw by his ironclad claws. Lymas took to the air, Firis yelling excitedly into the night.
“Do not leave the temple for any reason. The ritual will probably take all night. All hatchlings below two hundred years are to be away from the circle field. Do you understand?”
Firis looked up at Lymas who wore a serious expression and nodded, “What is this ritual?”
“It is time to pick a new Grand Master. I must step down.”
“Then what will you do?”
Lymas paused. He had never thought about that. What he would do when he finally left his responsibilities behind.
“I don’t know yet. We will see. Stay here.”
The ritual began when the moon turned blood red. The stars had formed circles around it like infinity rings. Beasts of all shapes and sizes converged in a field with perimeters of flames.
“After a thousand years, the stars have decided to bring another into the place of power and responsibility,” Lymas started, “responsibility to the land of Lycadon. Responsibility to the mandates given by the heavens and responsibilities passed on by our ancestors. Under this red moon, the chosen one shall glow his way forward as written in the prophecy. He will shine amidst darkness and bring forth nature with him…”
The winds picked up at the echo of Lymas’ voice. Dragons looked to one another. Soon, streams of purple lights bursts forth from under the solid ground, and rays of light reached down from the alignment of stars.
“The ground shall open and the stars shall kiss the soil,” he continued, “The universe shall respond and the sun shall lift its head,” tints of orange and red covered the sky, “and then, he shall glow bright filling the temple with his light…”
Lymas stopped, and raised his head towards the Grandhouse, puzzles falling into place…
“Firis?” He whispered
The audience turned to what had caught his attention. The temple was lit up, flames of fire curling its way around the pillars, green trees bursting forth from the gates. Lymas took to the sky as the rest of the prophecy came to his mind,
“He will bring all strange creatures with him…and he will descend to the abyss called Earth, where he shall bring salvation to Lycadon by the power of his hand.”
Lymas hurried into the temple to find a perplexed Firis who had grown in size, his horn now a twin, wings glowing with different colors. Trees came alive all around him, the ground beneath shaking and ripping until light filled the temple.
Lymas watched amazed. Firis was sent from the heavens, which is why he had no family. As he thought about it, he realized that the sign he wanted was sent long ago. Firis hatched in the temple.
All of Lycadon was in a frenzy after that night. Firis was locked in the temple and taught the scriptures as Lymas prepared for his departure. He traveled the skies looking over his familiar land, reminiscing over his years of servitude. When he got back to the temple, Firis was in front of the stone tablets that held commandments and rules. He had shrunk back to his normal size but the trees and green plants remained. So did his horns.
“Come Firis. Let’s take a break.”
And like the little beast he is, Firis bounced excitedly towards the grandmaster. His black circle irises now glowing ocean blue.
© May 2024, 
|| All Rights Reserved.
|| All Rights Reserved.