Creation

There are many tales about how the world came to be, but no one knows the truth. We are sure that the only creatures here at that point were the dragons, but no one is quite sure how they came to be either. As the stories tell it, they emerged from nothing, fully formed, much like the world itself. There were four of them here at the beginning; Fyre, Watyre, Aiyre, and Erthe, and this is their part in the tale.

Each of the four dragons were amazing, with immense power and great abilities, but they were also violent, arrogant, and vain. Each believed that they were the most powerful of the four, and that they should be the one to rule over the rest. To that end, they fought an endless war, all four out for themselves, making alliances to outnumber and attack one of the others, breaking the truce as quickly as it formed, betraying, backstabbing, sneak attacking, and deceiving each other in any way possible, trying to take the advantage, but never making any real progress. If one got too powerful, the other three would band together and tear them down, only to turn on each other once more.

Their battles were fierce and destructive. Each controlled a primal element, using it's immense force to attack. The ground would rupture, thrusting a column of jagged rock skyward. An inferno of heat and flame tore into the rock, melting it to lava and dropping into a deadly floe. A wall of water, the largest tidal wave ever created, flooded over the lava, cooling it in place, and burying it under a hundred feet of water. A gale force, a hurricane of tornadoes, blasted from the sky, scattering the water. Then the four would move on, taking their battle to a new area, leaving only the tortured ground behind, wrecked and unusable.

Endlessly they fought, never slowing, never tiring. Until one day, after a millennium of conflict, they all forged an unspoken agreement, to retreat, to rest. A brief truce, a respite from the violence. The four scattered, each seeking its own solace. It was then, in that ever so brief quiet, that he appeared. Like the four, no one knows where he came from, or when. He may have been there all along, watching, waiting. All we know is that when the four finally tired of endless war, when the world itself cried out for mercy, he appeared. The fifth dragon.

Aiyre lazily beat her expansive wings, more gliding than true flying. Her flight was inexhaustible, she could remain aloft indefinitely, even sleeping in flight. Now though she was so tired, and was searching for her own quiet place, so that she may lay down, something she could not remember ever doing. Her tired thoughts were interrupted by the sound of wings behind her. Fyre! It must be the dreaded red, he was the only other of them to fly. Too tired to turn and battle, Aiyre beat her wings slightly faster, looking to lose him to her superior speed. She was shocked when the sound of beating wings not only remained, but came closer! She knew she was much faster than Fyre, he couldn't catch her. She poured all power into her wings, reaching her fastest pace, nearly breaking the sound barrier. But the wings persisted! Finally she could take the chase no more, and turned to face Fyre.

Only it wasn't Fyre. It was an unknown. He was slightly larger than she was, but still smaller than the rest of the others, and his wings, while still oversized, weren't nearly as large as hers. He also shared a similar color palette, pale yellows and creams. She was shocked. There was no one but the four of them! There never had been. Who was this newcomer???

"Who are you?" Fyre asked. He was shocked that this being showed up, crossing the lava floes dotting the plains around him with ease. The stranger had horns like him, and a fringe running down his back. Most impressive was how he handled the heat. All of the others would have to retreat from the terrific heat surrounding them, a trick Fyre had used to gain himself some space in the past, but the fifth seemed perfectly comfortable, sitting across from him, his ruddy red and coppery scales gleaming a reflection of the lava's glow.

"I am a friend.” The fifth said. "And I have come to you to offer you my aid."

"I have no friends, and need no aid!" Watyre said fiercely. This stranger made her uneasy. He floated on top of the waves, like her, unlike all the others. None of the rest could swim, only Watyre. But here was this unknown, bobbing on the waves next to her. His blue green color blended nicely with the water, and the webbing between his fingers spoke to his comfort on the waves. "What could you possibly offer me?"

"A final solution. An end to the war. I can arrange one final battle, a last conflict to finally determine a victor. To prove what is strongest."

"Erthe is strongest!" Erthe shouted. This puny Other dared travel his tunnels! The Other’s dark scales made it hard for Erthe to see him, hard for him to plunge his large claws into him and use his massive muscles to tear the Other apart. But the Other also impressed him. None of his three enemies would come into his tunnels, the closeness of the walls and ceiling made them uncomfortable. But this Other was down here, and at ease. "Erthe will win!"

"Then come back to the site of your last battle in two days. And we will end the war.”

And all four dragons, hearing this proposal, and holding visions of victory in their mind, all answered the same to this. "Deal."

The four gathered, glaring at each other, ready to fight or flee, waiting for the mysterious stranger to appear. And suddenly he did, seemingly out of nowhere. "Welcome." He said. "Welcome to the final battle. This is where the war ends. But not as any of you imagined. We shall end this war here peacefully, with all sides agreeing to end the conflict freely, and to move forward, as equals." He paused to let the sounds of outrage the four made die down.

"Why would we do that?!" Fyre growled.

"Because if you don't, all of us die." The fifth said simply. "Look around." He gestured to the broken, dead ground around them. "Your war has destroyed so much of this world. It has died. Nothing can grow here. No life can flourish. Even us dragons will soon weaken and die, the world no longer capable of sustaining even us."

"When I win the war, I will bring life back to the world." Aiyre said.

"No, you won’t. You can't. Not alone. Your wind can do nothing to soften the rock.”

“But my fire can.” Fyre replied.

“And how will your fire wet the ground to cause seeds to grow? And how will your water support the roots of the plant? And how will your soil bring air to the animals? We will need all of your abilities to rebuild. So, now I give you the end of the war. This is the final battle. My ideas of peace and rebuilding versus your continual violence. So choose. Will you listen, or will you fight?"

The four sat in silence for a long time, glaring at each other, at the fifth, at the ground they had so recently battled on. Finally, Watyre stepped forward. "We will listen, for now."

It took many decades, with much discussion, much arguing, and much moderation by the fifth, but finally it had all been arranged. Erthe dug a tunnel to the center of the world, and Frye descended into it, heating the core and warming the entire planet. When he breathed, it provided warmth and heat. Because of him ice thawed and ground softened. If he occasionally caused a volcano to erupt, he was just reminding the others that he could. And in his breath, life grew.

Erthe travelled under all the Earth, tilling the soil and seeding the ground. He raised mountains and leveled plains with his breath. Sometimes he forced the ground to rumble, buckle, and shake, but that was merely an example of his power. And in his breath, life grew.

Aiyre took to the skies once more, moving the clouds and blowing the wind. She used her breath to spread seeds and carry the rains. The random tornado sweeping across the plains may have been excessive, but she kept them to a minimum. And in her breath, life grew.

Watyre lay at the bottom of the ocean, crossing currents and watering plants. Her breath washed the creatures and slaked their thirst. The tidal waves and waterspouts were simply her way of responding to the posturing of the others. And in her breath, life grew.

And the fifth dragon, the peacemaker, the unknown, he created something unique. When the world was ready, and life was abundant, he breathed. He created creatures that tamed fire, worked the earth, rode the water, and harnessed the wind. The fifth dragon, Hywemen, breathed out the race of man, and his breath, was life.